glossy, and shaking. I could see things moving inside it, like it was full of little babies or something. I had left my gun in the truck, so couldn’t shoot it, and didn’t want to go back in.
What do you think it is?
Dan clicked the reply button, typing: How big was it?
He would have to check back later.
“Big cocoon, eh?” Drew said. “I wonder what kind of animal or whatever would make one that big.”
Dan shook his head. “We don’t know how big it was,” he said. “Could have been man-sized. If you were scared enough, even something that size would seem huge.”
Drew nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Let me know if anyone replies. I need some food.”
“I’m hooking the generator up to the well pump,” Dan said. “I think we should wash anything off that we collected from that floater.”
“Alright,” Drew said, pulling a can from the cupboard, “but we’re taking turns.”
Chapter Eight
After a couple quick showers, some canned soup, and some nice, cold beer to start the day, Dan and Drew set out to procure some gasoline. Their supply was running low, and without it, the generator would be useless; along with the pickup, of course. Thankfully, the Humvee had a flex-fuel engine, and could run on just about anything.
They had removed the gas tank from Steve’s piece of shit car, along with the tanks of two other abandoned vehicles on the street, and loaded them side by side in the bed of the truck. The tanks totaled fifty gallons altogether. That should get them through the rest of the month, at least.
Dan had fashioned a battery-powered siphon from a car charger and a small fountain pump from his garage. It wasn’t very powerful, and would likely go pretty slow, but that beat a mouthful of gasoline.
“I can’t believe nobody on this street has their own stash,” Drew said. “All these hermits…”
Dan grinned. “They’re not all hermits,” he said. “And not all of them were preppers, either. Some people just like peace and quiet.”
He pulled out of the driveway, heading off to the right to cross the creek. They bounced over it; every rock jolting the truck as they drove through the foot-deep water. They passed Gary and Linda’s, slowing to look at their house, and remembered the shocking events that happened there. Dan still couldn’t forget the sight of Linda’s brains rolling down the wall.
They went past Shirley’s house quickly, both of them staring as they went by. They were both fairly certain she was there in one of the windows watching them. Drew smiled and waved just in case.
After a few miles of winding, gravel road, they came upon another neighborhood. This one was more closely packed; with houses that were no more than twenty yards apart. It was very residential, as compared to the rest of the street. Most of the houses were torn apart; windows busted out, doors knocked in, and the walls crumbled and charred. Even the cars were filled with what looked like bullet holes.
“Looks like the mercs have been here,” Drew said.
Dan nodded. “No doubt they killed everybody. I don’t see any bodies, though.”
He slowed, scanning the area. Some of the cars would probably still have gas in them. None of them looked like they had even been used since the shit hit the fan. This was probably a good place to start.
Dan pulled into a driveway next to a nearly brand new, red pickup. It would, no doubt, have a large gas tank. Drew got out first, opening the fuel cover and sniffing.
“Smells like it has a little,” he said.
Dan plugged the car charger into the cigarette lighter, handing the siphon out the window. He got out as Drew stuck the intake hose into the truck’s gas tank, and Dan put the outlet in the largest of the tanks they had. In a few minutes, they had a steady stream going.
“Remember that scene from that Cheech and Chong movie?” Drew said. “Where they were stealing gas and carrying it around in a garbage can?”
Dan smiled, picturing
What do you think it is?
Dan clicked the reply button, typing: How big was it?
He would have to check back later.
“Big cocoon, eh?” Drew said. “I wonder what kind of animal or whatever would make one that big.”
Dan shook his head. “We don’t know how big it was,” he said. “Could have been man-sized. If you were scared enough, even something that size would seem huge.”
Drew nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Let me know if anyone replies. I need some food.”
“I’m hooking the generator up to the well pump,” Dan said. “I think we should wash anything off that we collected from that floater.”
“Alright,” Drew said, pulling a can from the cupboard, “but we’re taking turns.”
Chapter Eight
After a couple quick showers, some canned soup, and some nice, cold beer to start the day, Dan and Drew set out to procure some gasoline. Their supply was running low, and without it, the generator would be useless; along with the pickup, of course. Thankfully, the Humvee had a flex-fuel engine, and could run on just about anything.
They had removed the gas tank from Steve’s piece of shit car, along with the tanks of two other abandoned vehicles on the street, and loaded them side by side in the bed of the truck. The tanks totaled fifty gallons altogether. That should get them through the rest of the month, at least.
Dan had fashioned a battery-powered siphon from a car charger and a small fountain pump from his garage. It wasn’t very powerful, and would likely go pretty slow, but that beat a mouthful of gasoline.
“I can’t believe nobody on this street has their own stash,” Drew said. “All these hermits…”
Dan grinned. “They’re not all hermits,” he said. “And not all of them were preppers, either. Some people just like peace and quiet.”
He pulled out of the driveway, heading off to the right to cross the creek. They bounced over it; every rock jolting the truck as they drove through the foot-deep water. They passed Gary and Linda’s, slowing to look at their house, and remembered the shocking events that happened there. Dan still couldn’t forget the sight of Linda’s brains rolling down the wall.
They went past Shirley’s house quickly, both of them staring as they went by. They were both fairly certain she was there in one of the windows watching them. Drew smiled and waved just in case.
After a few miles of winding, gravel road, they came upon another neighborhood. This one was more closely packed; with houses that were no more than twenty yards apart. It was very residential, as compared to the rest of the street. Most of the houses were torn apart; windows busted out, doors knocked in, and the walls crumbled and charred. Even the cars were filled with what looked like bullet holes.
“Looks like the mercs have been here,” Drew said.
Dan nodded. “No doubt they killed everybody. I don’t see any bodies, though.”
He slowed, scanning the area. Some of the cars would probably still have gas in them. None of them looked like they had even been used since the shit hit the fan. This was probably a good place to start.
Dan pulled into a driveway next to a nearly brand new, red pickup. It would, no doubt, have a large gas tank. Drew got out first, opening the fuel cover and sniffing.
“Smells like it has a little,” he said.
Dan plugged the car charger into the cigarette lighter, handing the siphon out the window. He got out as Drew stuck the intake hose into the truck’s gas tank, and Dan put the outlet in the largest of the tanks they had. In a few minutes, they had a steady stream going.
“Remember that scene from that Cheech and Chong movie?” Drew said. “Where they were stealing gas and carrying it around in a garbage can?”
Dan smiled, picturing
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