“I’m not a big fan of humidity either,” I said. I eyed the door. The gate was down and secured. I could drive a stick, but was thankful it was an automatic. ”Okay, where am I headed?”

Charlene held up a folded map. “I’m your co-pilot,” she said. “I helped Andy, too. We are looking for I-65 South. To get there, we need to get back on I-264 West. Make a right out of here, go a few more miles, and we should hit sixty-five.”

“Gotcha,” I said. “Not a bad co-pil--”

A gunshot.

The steel-covered windows might prevent someone or something from getting at us, but they also kept us from seeing everything around us. I shouldn’t have been inside the bus, anyway. Not with Andy and Dave inside the store. I should have grabbed a gun and stood guard. “Where did the shot come from?” I said.

Gene was out of bed and ran to the front of the bus. “The store, I think.”

I craned my neck and twisted my head. I couldn’t see either Dave or Andy. “Stay here,” I said, Charlene nodded. “Kia, take the wheel!”

I scrambled down the three steps, off the bus, and freed my sword from its scabbard. Holding the hilt in both hands I spun around, but saw nothing. “You see anything?” I said.

Gene held a Glock in each hand. He shook his head. His eyes were open wide, searching the pumps, the parking lot, and like mine -- staring desperately into the darkness that enveloped the store. “Let’s get inside and make sure the guys are okay.”

We ran from the pumps to the front door. The store was encased in glass. It was easy to see inside, except for the rows of empty shelves making up the mart’s four aisles. “Both bathroom doors are closed.”

Another gunshot. Glass around the door into the mini-mart exploded. It did not come from inside the store. “Get back to the bus,” I told Gene. “Lock it down. We’ve got visitors coming.”

I heard car engines. More than one.

“Chase?” It was Dave.

I ran in through the missing glass, and sprinted for the bathroom doors. I slid on the linoleum to a stop. The guys were on the floor, backs to the empty shelves.

“What the fuck is going on out there?” Dave said.

“Company,” I said. I heard the bus horn honk. And honk. “I think we’re in trouble.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I watched two sets of headlights come at the mini-mart, one pair from the west and the other from the east. I could see them clearly from where we were inside the rear of the store, the last aisle by the bathroom doors.

“We’re trapped in here,” Andy said. “Aren’t we? We’re trapped.”

The bus rolled out of its spot by the pumps. It would never be able to turn on a dime and get close enough to the building for us to make a break for it safely. It would need to maneuver around some, and…

“Where are they going?” Dave said. It pulled up toward the main road. We all watched it from where we knelt behind the shelving. “Where the fuck is our bus going?”

“It’ll be back,” I said. “That’s what they should do. Take off.”

“The fuck they should,” Andy said. He stood up. “Thing’s like a tank!”

I grabbed his shirt and yanked him back down. “You want to get your head shot off?”

I heard tires screech. The cars must have stopped right up front, both with high-beams on and aimed directly into the store. The back wall was lit like it was ablaze with halogen fire. I heard car doors open, and saw giant shadows play across the wall.

“Ah shit. What was it, two cars?” Dave said.

“That’s what I saw.” I knew he itched to destroy whomever was inside those vehicles. We never saw who shot and killed Dave’s brother, Josh. It had to have been groups of ruthless people just like this: Thugs who terrorized people instead of coming together to fight against a common enemy. In this case, the zombies of a fucked up apocalypse. “Look, we have no idea how many people are inside those cars. Figure eight total, worst case. Behind the checkout counter, do you see that door? Has to lead to the back storeroom. There must be an exit back there. Stay low, stay close, and follow me.”

“We’re running?” Dave said.

I knelt, like a sprinter ready to run. “Ah, yeah, Dave. I have a fucking sword. A sword. Perfect for fighting slow zombies, but these guys have guns.”

Andy pumped his twelve gauge. “I have this and a pocket full of shells. We can pepper the shit out of them.”

I wasn’t looking for an inventory. I’d been trying to make a point.

Dave smiled. “I have my guns, too.”

“Full clips?” I gave in.

“One,” he said. He flipped the other gun over in his hand. “And half.”

I closed my eyes for just a second, lowered my head. Where the fuck was the bus?

I removed my machete. “When you’re out of ammo, we’re chopping the bastards up. Got it?”

“Hey! Hello?”

Dave, Andy and I stared at each other. I put a finger to my lips, and silently (and needlessly), shushed them.

More glass fell. It sounded like it had been kicked in; clearing shards that dangled in the door’s frame. Boots crunched on pieces of glass. My nose wrinkled. A foul stench filled the store. Sweat, urine and feces.

Watching shadows on the wall was all we had. I counted three. I didn’t dare sneak a peek. I knew if I looked, my head would get blown away. Wasn’t the way I was going to die. I hadn’t made it this far to be shot.

I pointed to the opposite end of the aisle. Dave and Andy nodded. I crawled toward my end, the one closest to the front entrance, where the men with guns were.

There was no plan. There had been no time to make one.

“We hear you. We saw you in here. Just give it a rest, okay? Give it a rest and stand up. No reason to draw this out.”

“We don’t have anything you’d want,” I said. “We just stopped to use the bathrooms.”

“You have that bus. We’d want that.”

“You see a bus out there?” Dave gave away his position. Why the fuck did he talk? Didn’t he trust me to handle this? After all of this time together, he should know better than to open his mouth. What was the purpose of us splitting up, if he was just going to blow it right away? We get out of this, I’m going to ask him, because I sincerely wanted an answer.

“No way have they just left you. They’ll be back.”

The guy might as well have said, “Abracadabra.”

I heard the bus return. It must have turned around on the main road, picked up some speed and was now gunning it through the parking lot.

I risked it. I stood. I had been right to. No one was looking at us. The three guys in the store were turned around and watching the bus cow-scooper-obscured headlights barreling down on the store.

“Dave!” I said.

I didn’t know where was going to be safe.

Dave stood. He must have seen the bus, but it didn’t detract him. He fired off three rounds. His bullets struck two of the men. I couldn’t tell if they’d been killed, but they sure as shit went down.

The third guy spun around just as the plow on the bus smashed into the side of one of the two cars. Metal crushed and creaked as the windshield popped, and shattered and rained pellets all over the parking lot. The plow drove the first car into the second.

I heard screams. People had been inside those cars.

If they weren’t dead, they had to be trapped with injuries. I couldn’t imagine anyone climbing out of either car without at least a concussion.

Dave fired off shots at the third guy, the one who ran from the store.

I didn’t know the status of the other two. Dave knew enough not to assume shit. He was on his side of the aisle, I was on mine. We both took cautious steps toward the front of the store where the two men went down.

“Guys,” Andy said from behind us, still standing by the bathroom door.

I held up a hand. “Stay.”