he said, pointing to the barrels.
The two of them each grabbed a barrel, uncapping it and knocking it over. The sticky amber liquid glopped onto the floor, pooling around the lift and running toward the barricaded door. Drew grabbed a can of paint thinner from a nearby shelf, flinging its contents on the oil while they backed away. Dan grabbed another, doing the same.
Then, the desk was knocked away as the writhing stumblers burst through the door. They immediately slid and tumbled to the floor as their feet hit the slippery oil. They writhed and flailed as they struggled to get to their feet. Dan created a line of paint thinner as he shuffled backward, pulling out his lighter and throwing the empty can at their helpless pursuers.
“Say goodnight, motherfuckers,” he said as he lit the liquid fuse.
The giant pool of oil ignited like napalm, engulfing the stumblers in a hellish fireball. Drew howled, clapping Dan on the back as they lifted the garage door and ducked under.
“Good idea, man,” Drew yelled. “That was awesome!”
“MacGuyver was my hero,” Dan joked.
They turned back to look at their handiwork. Smoke was billowing from the back of the station, filling the air with the stink of petroleum and burning flesh. Through the broken windows, the two of them could hear the dying screams of the stumblers echoing from the garage.
“Meet ya at home,” Drew said.
Dan howled in triumph as they rounded the gas station back to the parking lot. Drew passed the pickup to return to the propane truck. As he reached the street, a stumbler emerged from behind another car. Drew lifted the shotgun, still running, and blasted the creature away without a second of hesitation. He yelled like a cowboy and leaped up into the driver’s seat.
Dan opened the pickup’s door and slid in. Before he could close it, a high pitched whine caught his attention. The pug was there, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Dan’s heart sank; both in pity and a goddamnit sensation.
“Goddamnit,” he said, sighing. “Come on, buddy.”
The dog hopped up on his lap, jumping off onto the passenger seat. Dan shook his head, starting the truck and pulling out as Drew took off.
“Well,” he said. “Looks like you’re coming home with us. Better not turn into anything weird.”
The dog wagged its tail, rising up to look out the windshield, its tiny little tongue hanging out with glee.
“Little fucker.”
Chapter Three
“I can’t believe you brought the dog,” Drew said, shaking his head with a skeptical grin. “We’re gonna have another cocoon in the vanity.”
“I think he’s okay,” Dan said, scratching the little guy’s head. “He’s not looking to go hide anywhere.”
Drew rested his hands on his hips as he studied the propane tank; looking back and forth between it, and the truck that he had parked next to it. Neither of them knew how to hook it up, or whether it was even the right kind of connector. It would probably be a good idea to try and look it up first.
“Why don’t you park it on the other side of the house until we figure it out,” Dan said. “Our tank is still pretty full. There’s no rush.”
Drew stared for a few more seconds, bobbing his head as he accepted Dan’s idea. “So, what are we calling the dog?” he asked.
“I thought Pauli would be a good name,” Dan replied, “after Paul Revere.”
Drew grinned. “I get it. The zombies are coming, the zombies are coming! ”
He hopped back into the truck, and Dan went around the garage to check on the horses. He had put them in the small fenced in area that was his dad’s dog kennel at one time. He figured they would be alright there; at least until winter came on full force. So far, he had been right.
The two beasts stood motionless, chewing on grass and little else; like horses usually do. Dan opened the gate, and Pauli ran right in, sniffing at the horses’ feet. They didn’t seem to mind.
“Here’s your new bodyguard,
The two of them each grabbed a barrel, uncapping it and knocking it over. The sticky amber liquid glopped onto the floor, pooling around the lift and running toward the barricaded door. Drew grabbed a can of paint thinner from a nearby shelf, flinging its contents on the oil while they backed away. Dan grabbed another, doing the same.
Then, the desk was knocked away as the writhing stumblers burst through the door. They immediately slid and tumbled to the floor as their feet hit the slippery oil. They writhed and flailed as they struggled to get to their feet. Dan created a line of paint thinner as he shuffled backward, pulling out his lighter and throwing the empty can at their helpless pursuers.
“Say goodnight, motherfuckers,” he said as he lit the liquid fuse.
The giant pool of oil ignited like napalm, engulfing the stumblers in a hellish fireball. Drew howled, clapping Dan on the back as they lifted the garage door and ducked under.
“Good idea, man,” Drew yelled. “That was awesome!”
“MacGuyver was my hero,” Dan joked.
They turned back to look at their handiwork. Smoke was billowing from the back of the station, filling the air with the stink of petroleum and burning flesh. Through the broken windows, the two of them could hear the dying screams of the stumblers echoing from the garage.
“Meet ya at home,” Drew said.
Dan howled in triumph as they rounded the gas station back to the parking lot. Drew passed the pickup to return to the propane truck. As he reached the street, a stumbler emerged from behind another car. Drew lifted the shotgun, still running, and blasted the creature away without a second of hesitation. He yelled like a cowboy and leaped up into the driver’s seat.
Dan opened the pickup’s door and slid in. Before he could close it, a high pitched whine caught his attention. The pug was there, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Dan’s heart sank; both in pity and a goddamnit sensation.
“Goddamnit,” he said, sighing. “Come on, buddy.”
The dog hopped up on his lap, jumping off onto the passenger seat. Dan shook his head, starting the truck and pulling out as Drew took off.
“Well,” he said. “Looks like you’re coming home with us. Better not turn into anything weird.”
The dog wagged its tail, rising up to look out the windshield, its tiny little tongue hanging out with glee.
“Little fucker.”
Chapter Three
“I can’t believe you brought the dog,” Drew said, shaking his head with a skeptical grin. “We’re gonna have another cocoon in the vanity.”
“I think he’s okay,” Dan said, scratching the little guy’s head. “He’s not looking to go hide anywhere.”
Drew rested his hands on his hips as he studied the propane tank; looking back and forth between it, and the truck that he had parked next to it. Neither of them knew how to hook it up, or whether it was even the right kind of connector. It would probably be a good idea to try and look it up first.
“Why don’t you park it on the other side of the house until we figure it out,” Dan said. “Our tank is still pretty full. There’s no rush.”
Drew stared for a few more seconds, bobbing his head as he accepted Dan’s idea. “So, what are we calling the dog?” he asked.
“I thought Pauli would be a good name,” Dan replied, “after Paul Revere.”
Drew grinned. “I get it. The zombies are coming, the zombies are coming! ”
He hopped back into the truck, and Dan went around the garage to check on the horses. He had put them in the small fenced in area that was his dad’s dog kennel at one time. He figured they would be alright there; at least until winter came on full force. So far, he had been right.
The two beasts stood motionless, chewing on grass and little else; like horses usually do. Dan opened the gate, and Pauli ran right in, sniffing at the horses’ feet. They didn’t seem to mind.
“Here’s your new bodyguard,
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