This Would Be Paradise (Book 1)-A Zombie Novel

Chapter 16

Ethan moved the truck closer to the manhole so that we could fill up the tank. John had found a couple of empty jerry cans when they were inside and we had brought a few as well. I didn't want to be the one who had to suction the gas out but Taylor said he'd do it; you wouldn't find me objecting. He sucked profusely and sputtered when the gas started to flow and quickly shoved it into the empty jerry can. He spat a few times on the ground and swished his water around in his mouth.

"Wow you're an expert at that," I taunted and the look he gave me made me grin even wider.

Ethan burst out laughing and even John coughed to cover up his snort of laughter. I felt like I had gotten my revenge, albeit petty revenge, but whatever.

After a few seconds, the gas stopped flowing and we all peered down at it, as if by miracle our staring would make it run again.

"I didn't think this would work." John took off his hat and ran his hand over his head. For someone his age, he had a pretty good set of hair.

"The tank needs to be higher for this to work properly," Taylor pointed out.

"I'll do another look around for somethin' with a hand pump." At that, John jogged back to the garage for something more useful.

The three of us just stood around, not saying a word. Taylor and I traded some more squinty eyed looks, while Ethan tried not to notice the tense atmosphere. I was about to say something about his rusty sucking skills when John emerged from the garage, this time with a device that looked like the bicycle tire pump we had back home; just with two hoses instead of one.

"This should work much better," John announced as he placed one of the hose ends in the jerry can and the other hose running from the pump, into the underground tank.

The handle of the red pump was on the top and reminded me of the detonators in the Looney Tunes cartoons. After using the pump for just over thirty seconds, the gas started to flow again much to our relief.

In the end we had half a dozen canisters full of gas which would hopefully last us a while. Taylor reclosed the tank just in case we needed to come back for more gas in the future. There was still a good amount left; we could come back here when we got low again. We made sure the pump was placed securely inside the truck so we didn't lose it.

After placing the cans into the back, we reconvened in the truck. Taylor and I refused to acknowledge one another as we shared the back seat. We weren't too far from the Wal-Mart and the main street only had a few infected roaming. The rest seemed to have disappeared for the moment which was a relief and worrying at the same time.

The massive parking lot was abandoned except for a few cars neatly parked in a spot and a few tipped over carts. I'd say the place looked to be in pretty good shape but I suppose looks can be deceiving. Ethan pulled up to the front door and killed the engine. We scoped out the place before we got out of the truck. There were three infected that were using the parking lot like their own personal walking track but as soon as we had pulled up they started towards the noise.

I unloaded my clip to see how many bullets I had left; I counted seven. We clambered out of the truck to confront the three but John shot them in a quick succession before we had the chance to lift our weapons up. Luckily he was still using his silencer; he wouldn't risk shooting out here without one.

"How long were you in the military?" Ethan asked, as he put his pistol away.

"Fifteen years," John answered, "Been stationed all over the world with my platoon."

"Got any 'Nam stories?" Ethan asked.

John chuckled, "I ain't that old son. That war ended the same year I turned old enough to enlist. But I got many other stories."