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There was one thing that Kyle hadn’t thought of. There was no place for the smoke to escape. Could being that cold really obstruct his judgment? The smoke would continue to build in the room until they were engulfed in it. Kyle walked toward the door, passing Chet and propping the door open. The air began to suck the smoke outside. It was a temporary fix, but a necessary one.

Kyle turned toward Chet and Victor. “What were you doing outside?”

“Well I was making my way to Las Vegas because that’s where everyone is saying the safe zone is. I started having engine trouble as soon as the rain got bad. I had to find someplace to hold up till the rain stopped, and then I’d see what was wrong with my car. I saw you when you first pulled up. I was hiding outside under a small opening where the roof extends out. When you came back out I wanted to get your attention.” Chet spoke with that same British accent as before, but Kyle could have sworn that his voice changed a bit. It was lower than before. Could the cold have changed his tone?

“Yeah, you scared the shit out of me. I almost shot you,” Kyle added.

“Yes, I apologize for that. It was a bit rude of me to startle you. I wanted you to get a good look at my face. I didn’t want you to think I was one of those creatures outside. Mind if I get closer to the fire? I’m drenched and very cold.”

Kyle nodded. “You can put the gun down now Victor.” The boy did what he was told and backed toward the fire.

“Much obliged,” Chet said as he walked closer to the warmth of the flames. “I don’t mean to meddle, but em, why are you in your knickers?” he asked rubbing his hands together in the universal gesture to get warm.

“We just took a rain shower. My clothes are drying and I gave Victor my only spares. I’m stuck like this until something dries.”

“I see,” Chet said taking off the trench coat and setting it on the ground.

“Where are you guys headed?” Chet asked.

“We’ll have more time to chat later. We need to go get more stuff to burn. This paper will only last a few more minutes,” Kyle said.

He grabbed the Winchester that sat upright on a wall and walked to the store’s door. It was locked. Kyle repeatedly used the butt of the gun as a ram. The lock slowly broke free. He stepped inside with the shotgun ready to fire at anything that moved. The counter was to his left, and in the middle of the room stood an island of shipping boxes the post office tries to sell.

“Victor, grab those and take them to the fire,” Kyle said.

The boy rushed into the room and grabbed as much as he could carry, and then walked them back to the fire. On the far right corner there was a dried-up potted tree. It was only a bit shorter than the ceiling. It was perfect to burn. Kyle was thankful that no one had maintained the plant and that it was dry and dead.

“Chet, can you get that plant over there and take it to the fire?” Kyle asked.

“Yes, of course. Anything to keep that fire going,” Chet responded, taking the orders well. He leaned the plant down to fit it through the door and dragged it back to the fire.

Kyle walked further into the room and jumped over the counter. Once on the other side, he saw mountains of priority shipping boxes, all different shapes and sizes. There were also a few wooden chairs that would be easy to break and burn. He began stacking boxes on the counter as Victor came back and began taking them to the fire. He tossed the wooden chairs over the counter and let them fall to the ground. They were flimsy, and they dismantled on contact. Chet came back into the room and began picking up the pieces.

Kyle wanted to explore the building for more useful items but thought against it. The building was pitch-black farther in. The fire did a good job illuminating the room, but that was it. They had enough cardboard to burn for a few hours.  Kyle jumped back over the counter and began walking back to the fire.

A loud moan erupted from behind the counter. He quickly turned with the Winchester drawn. An Existing Dead stood right where Kyle had been standing only moments before. The female monster was wearing a postal service carrier uniform. Her long dark hair was tied back into a pony tail, exposing her neck, which had a large hole on the left side. Loose skin flapped to the side of the wound. She had probably been bitten on her mail route and had come back to headquarters to find some help. The creature looked at Kyle with wild and hungry eyes. It tried to walk toward him, but the counter was in the way. She just continued to struggle, trying to climb the counter and head toward Kyle. She continuously made loud gasping noises as if she were trying to remember how to breathe.

Victor ran into the room and saw the zombie behind the counter. “Holy shit, shoot it!” he yelled.

“Don’t worry, it can’t get to us. It needs to climb over that counter, and it doesn’t look like it has the brain power to do that,” Kyle answered.

“But still, you should get rid of it. It might call some of its friends.” As Victor said that the zombie let out another terrifying moan. “You see? The moan is like a calling thing. I heard them do it a lot when I was at the gas station.”

Kyle had never thought about that.

“Is everything all right?” Chet asked from the other room. He had been breaking apart the palm tree to use as firewood, as well as throwing pieces of broken chair into the flames.

“Everything is fine. There’s just one of them that’s stuck behind the counter,” Kyle answered. Chet didn’t respond; he just continued breaking up the tree.

Kyle pumped the shotgun and pulled the trigger. The blast hit the creature dead center in the face, completely obliterating the head, spreading the nearby area with gore. The body fell back as everything went silent.

“Ahhh,” Victor yelled as he held his hands over his ears. Shooting a high-powered shotgun in an enclosed area could shatter the ear drums of anyone. Kyle could hear nothing but a faint hum. He shook his head a few times until his hearing returned. Victor no longer had his hands over his ears. His arms hung by his sides.

“Remember,” Kyle said to Victor, “never fire a gun in an enclosed area unless you have to.”

Victor nodded, shaking his head. They walked back into the other room, where Chet was finally putting the tree into the fire. Kyle swung the door behind them closed and walked toward the fire, bare-chested and shoeless.

Chapter Twelve

They huddled around the fire. The storm continued outside, blowing the trees to the point of breaking. Kyle’s clothes were finally dry enough to put on. Holding them closer to the fire had really helped. With his clothes on, he felt much more secure.

A few large stacks of boxes, wood and other burnable items were placed behind them. There was enough fuel to last a few hours if they managed it properly. Throwing in a few more sticks, wood and cardboard as needed would do the trick. They also used the chain that had been holding the trash can to wrap around the door to keep the wind from closing it. Leaving the door open was not safe, but it was more dangerous to keep the smoke building inside the room. They would suffocate faster than an Existing Dead could eat a body.

“So, you’re headed to Vegas, huh?” Kyle asked Chet.

“Yes. What about you two?” he answered, shoving a couple of mixed nuts into his mouth. He chewed vigorously, like he hadn’t eaten in a long time.

“We don’t have plans to go. I’m headed to California to find an ex-girlfriend and my buddy, Victor, here, well, he wants to go home so I’m taking him,” Kyle said, looking at Victor, who was drifting into a nap. It looked like the effects of the power tablet were finally wearing off.

“What did you do before all this, Kyle?”

“I was a welder, more or less a construction worker. I had a wife and kid. I lost them yesterday.”