Mostly Dead (Barely Alive #3) by Bonnie R. Paulson

Mom lowered her voice, regret lining her words. “And Paul? I’m sorry there’s no cure.” She left off the yet. Yet. No cure yet . Because at that rate, nobody would survive long enough to see a cure made.
    I straightened and lifted my chin. Hopefully nobody would care that I pocketed one of the rifle lighters. “It’s okay. We got the vaccine. Now you won’t get it. I’ll be fine.” I rushed on, emotion threatening to take over. “I better go, Mom. Remember, don’t let them through. You can’t stop them unless it’s with fire. I love you.”
    “I love you, Paul. Tell your brother. ‘Bye.” She hung up. My mom and I were never ones to mince words.
    Replacing the phone in its cradle, I studied the foods I’d never get to taste again. Dust. There was a religious line I’d heard once in school. Something like, dust to dust and how we were once dust and after death we would be dust once more. Well, hell, people didn’t taste like dust. Only the crappy food tasted like dust. The driest dust ever. I smacked my tongue and swallowed, trying to eradicate the taste from my memory.
    The sun continued ris ing in the sky, careless that something unholy and disgusting filled the world. A smoky haze tickled the tops of the green trees. I’d never seen such an effect on the sky.
    Another crash and bang. James looked from the store to a spot beyo nd it. Movement past the glass wall gave me a jolt. How the hell had they made it that far? The flames were behind us. Where we’d left the zombies.
    So why the hell was one trying to get inside the gas station?
    I had to get Heather and get out of there somehow. James sat on his bike and moved it around beside mine, on the opposite side of the pumps. But the zombie making his way toward the door didn’t pay James any attention. He must smell the human odors saturating the building. It was all I could do not to lick the walls.
    Up to that point, I hadn’t actually had to do any hand-to-hand combat. I’d run from them, sure, but I hadn’t had to try anything else. And now… Where the hell was Heather?
    James needed to warn somebody, anybody. Find cars… where there were cars there were people. But… Not one car was in the parking lot. Across the street, closer to town, a library and school had zero cars as well. And the roads were empty.
    We weren’t protected and didn’t have any way to fight. Brian had been carrying the spray cans. I guess ed James had the lighters but what were we going to do? Light the gas station on fire? I’d hoped this would be the one town zombies wouldn’t enter.
    Yeah, who was I kidding? Not me.
    The rogue zombie jostled the outside trash can before pushing on the doors. I turned to retrieve Heather and almost ran over her.
    She pressed her hand to her chest. Interesting. “I’m sorry. Are you ready?” She looked around the store for someone, but didn’t call out.
    I placed my hand over her mouth – her talking was like ringing a dinner bell – hell! Pushing her down into a crouch position, I shoved her back into the aisles, away from the view of the doors. Finger to my lips, I pointed over my shoulder. She scuttled backward until we stopped in front of the end cap.
    She slipped her hand in mine. “I don’t know what to do…” She mouthed on a sigh.
    The bell above the door jingled. He’d figured out how to open it. We held our breath.
    Finding us wouldn’t take long. I reached into my back pocket and withdrew my weapon. I held it up for her to see. She scrunched her face, like what the hell? I flicked the trigger and a flame flickered from the miniature barrel. Her lines cleared.
    The zombie dragged his feet. Lo ud sounds jarred the silence of the room like he rummaged through items on the counter and shelves. He could’ve smelled the scent of human all over the place. The gas station reeked of human.
    A box of Twinkies above Heather’s head looked enticing. She hadn’t eaten in a while. I pulled it down and handed it to her