DEAD RAIN: A Tale of the Zombie Apocalypse by Joe Augustyn Page B

doors, barricading themselves in.
    “Jesus Christ,” Ryan whispered hopelessly. I’ll never get in there now.
    He considered trying to slip behind the building to pound on the store’s back door. But he knew his odds of being admitted were even less than the odds of him actually making it that far. Someone would have to be in the back room to hear him, and they were obviously all busy barricading the front of the store. The racket he’d make banging on the metal security door would attract the hungry ghouls long before it caught the attention of anyone in the building. And even if they did hear it, they’d probably just think it wa s more ghouls trying to break in.
    He scanned the parking lot. A dozen or so zombies were feasting on unlucky people they’d taken by surprise. Drivers who’d gotten out of their cars to pay for gas, blissfully unaware that they were stepping into hell on earth, obscured by the lingering fog. Folks who ran out for a quick pack of smokes, and go t death served up cold instead.
    He turned his attention to the cars parked in front of the store. They were too damned close to the hungry dead assailing the storefront and even if he found one that was unlocked it would no doubt be missing its keys.
    He turned to the cars at the brightly lit gas pumps. A compact Chevy stood abandoned at the nearest pump, its driver’s door hanging open. He could see and the pump hose nozzle still stuck in its fill hole and the driver’s legs on the ground behind the car, twitching as a zombie apparently feasted.
    Ryan considered his chances. I can make it, I’m sure. But what if the driver took the keys?
    He looked around for a better option. The hospital was overwhelmed. He had to assume the local supermarkets were death traps as well. The streets were a death zone, and growing more deadly by the minute. Zombies were everywhere. With just a few bullets left in the revolver, he wouldn’t get far if he tried to make a run for it. And it was only a matter of seconds before the dead saw him standing there. He’d be dead already if it hadn’t been for the fog.
    He looked at the little Chevy again, and was thankful that he’d signed up for drivers ed classes just a few weeks before. I’ll have to risk it. It’s the only way I’ll ever make it out of here… alive.
    Ducking low he snuck as nimbly as he could to the gas pumps and hid behind th em. He stole a peek between the pumps into the Chevy’s open door. Through the drifting fog he caught sight of the keys in the ignition.
    He squeezed between the pumps and crept to the pump nozzle stuck in the Chevy’s fill cap. Quietly he extracted it, aware of the zombie feeding on the hapless driver just a few yards away. But as he lifted the heavy nozzle out it slipped from his sweaty fingers and bumped the spring-loaded filler hatch, causing it to snap shut.
    A huge cadaver stepped around the pump and stood facing him. Its eyes were so cold and dead that for a moment Ryan just stood there staring, wonderin g if it could actually see him.
    The monstrous corpse took a step forward, hungrily raising its arms.
    Ryan squeezed the grip and the pump spurted gasoline. He doused the zombie liberally, soaking its head, its open eyes and mouth—but it wasn’t phased, not even delayed for a moment. Throwing the heavy metal nozzle at its face, Ryan jumped into the car and slammed the door.
    As he started the engine the burly cadaver banged its fists on the window.
    Ryan floored it. The little Chevy screeched across the parking lot. Moving way too fast it hit the exit ramp. He cut the wheel hard without slowing down. The car careened wildly, sliding across the dewy street on two squealing tires.
    Ryan released the gas pedal and stomped the brake. The Chevy bounced to a stop just inches from a parked car, on the wrong side of the road.
    Bright headlights blinded him. An air horn blasted an urgent warning. A monstrous semi was barreling right at him.
    Ryan punched the gas and