Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 6): In the Arms of Family by Chris Philbrook Page B

largely gotten over his issues of being nervous and skittish with guns, so he was pretty much all set within a dozen pulls of the trigger. For the moment I’m having him carry something that’s fairly simply to operate. One of Gilbert’s AKs. For anyone who has fired one, they are really pretty much point and shoot. Sort of idiot proof. Plus with all the 7.62 Gilbert had in those boxes, we should spread the wealth and use it up so we can preserve our 5.56. Speaking of which… we need to get back on reloading. Mike brought us a crate again on their last visit, but he said they’re down to less than a pallet of it in their basement armory, so…. Yeah.
    Zach was able to carry and fire his weapon like a big boy as well yesterday, and as a result he fired it accurately, safely, and earned the right to carry a .38 just like his hetero (still up for debate) life mate Ryan. Zach was half beaming, and half shitting his britches out of sheer terror of carrying a loaded weapon.
    As you might have suspected, Danny turned out to be a dyed in the wool sniper with that Marlin. Seriously. He managed a two inch grouping while standing at a hundred feet with no effort. That’s some pretty serious shooting, especially for a kid his age. Angela was a pretty easy sell on the idea of him accompanying us when we explained the idea that he’d be on the roof of the truck the whole time.
    Sigh. Just got angry over shit again. I don’t know why, not like today was bad. Not really bad at least. Shitty for sure, but not the end of the world by any means.
    Where was I Mr. Journal? Ah. We rolled out in the three trucks like a convoy of fucking bosses, and we headed right straight back to the same convenience store we hit a ways back. The same place downtown we hit way back when. Remember how I found all the soda behind the coolers? We’re still drinking that shit. So much carbonated awesomeness.
    So the trip downtown was fairly open and clear. Especially now that I can hit zombies with the HRT at full clip with zero fear we’ll run over one and blow out a tire. The newly affixed plow blade just sends those assholes flying to the side. I want to say I hit about ten undead in the road, and just like it was designed to, the undead just went soaring away.
    The parking lot of the gas station was a huge problem. There were maybe fifteen undead in the area, and they were bunched up conspicuously right near the lids for the in ground tanks. Almost as if on purpose. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised seeing as how EVIL is fucking with me. You know, evil. Pure evil. Worst thing ever?
    Heard of it before?
    So I drove the HRT right through the center of the crowd, taking out about six of them. I took the truck to the edge of the parking lot and had the other two vehicles get out of the area for a minute. After stopping, we had Danny climb onto the roof of the HRT, and let him get some practice in killing some dead folks in a pretty safe way. Abby went out on the roof with him for safety’s sake, and from the prone position and kneeling position, he dropped the entire parking lot, one steady shot at a time.
    Pretty special little shit. Once we had that accomplished, we radioed for the other trucks to come back, and we got to getting the gas up and out of the ground. Martin and Blake had discussed a way of testing the fuel, and it involved using a long, clear plastic tube that they managed to find somewhere on campus. Martin lowered it straight down into the tank, put his thumb on the end creating a vacuum, and then lifted it out. At the end of the tube, in the bottom three or four inches, you could clearly see water. I guess water sinks below the gas.
    Once we knew how much water was at the bottom of the tank, we knew exactly how far we could drain the tank to and get mostly clean gas. It’ll still need to be treated with the shit Blake has, but it’ll be a lot better than if we’d just drained the bitch dry.  
    Once we were ready to go, we backed the