They watched Justin and Ethan run.
That was the first thing—how fast it happened. One second Justin was there, propane tank in his hands, sunlight cutting sharp off his shoulders. The next, he and Ethan dropped everything and bolted for the side of the store, bodies low, movements tight and desperate.
And then they were gone.
Out of sight.
Mari's breath caught so hard it hurt.
Inside the Jeep, no one spoke. No one moved. The air felt compressed, like the vehicle itself was holding them in place.
Then the scream came again.
All of them turned at once.
The woman—the Black woman—stumbled into the open, crying, voice raw and breaking. She was bleeding badly from the leg, dark blood slicking her calf, soaking her shoe. She ran anyway, dragging herself forward on pain and terror alone. The man with her—Black too, about the same age—had hold of her arm, trying to pull her faster.
Behind them, the dead surged.
Not walking. Running.
Kenzie's hands flew to her mouth.
"Oh God," Lila whispered.
The woman fell.
She didn't just trip—her leg gave out completely, buckling under her, and she hit the pavement hard. The man skidded to a stop, turned back for her, shouting her name over and over, his voice cracking.
And then—something inside her shifted.
They all saw it.
The woman shoved him.
Hard.
Not weak. Not accidental.
She shoved him away from her and screamed, "GO!"
He shook his head violently, sobbing, trying to grab her again.
The first zombie reached her.
It went for her shoulder, jaws snapping, teeth sinking in deep enough that the woman screamed again—high and terrible—but she didn't stop fighting. She swung her arms wildly, hitting anything she could reach, clawing, pushing, kicking with the leg that still worked.
She wasn't trying to save herself.
She was trying to buy time.
The man stared at her for one last second—eyes wide, face breaking—and then he ran.
Straight toward the store.
Straight toward where Justin and Ethan had disappeared.
More zombies poured in, drawn by the screaming, the blood, the movement. They surrounded her fast—too fast—hands grabbing, bodies piling in. She fought until she couldn't. Until her arms stopped swinging. Until the dead swallowed her whole.
And then she was gone.
Not dragged away.
Not pulled under.
Just… gone.
Buried beneath biting bodies like she'd never been there at all.
Inside the Jeep, someone made a broken sound.
Mari didn't know who.
Maybe it was her.
They froze.
Every single one of them.
The zombies didn't even look at the Jeep at first. They were too busy feeding, too busy tearing into what was left of the woman. The sounds were unbearable—wet ripping, low animal growls, bones cracking like sticks under boots.
Kenzie's hands shook as she reached for Barbie.
"Shh," she whispered frantically, already unzipping the pack. "Shh, baby. It's okay."
Barbie squirmed, ears flat, starting to whine—the sound small but dangerous.
Kenzie didn't hesitate. She zipped the pack closed gently but firmly, turning Barbie inward so she couldn't see, couldn't smell as much, couldn't bark.
Lila wrapped her arms around Kenzie from behind, clutching her like a lifeline.
They both crouched low in the trunk space, pressed together, shaking.
Up front, Mari didn't move.
Her hands were locked around the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white. Her eyes stayed glued to the side of the store where Justin had vanished, like if she looked away for even a second he'd disappear forever.
Tally lay unconscious on the floor between the back seat and front, sprawled awkwardly, hair in her face, mouth slightly open. Renee had dragged her down there after slapping her, more out of instinct than kindness. Now she lay still, breathing shallowly.
Marcus leaned forward, voice barely above breath.
"Why didn't you fucking leave?"
Every head turned toward him.
But no one argued.
Because they had all thought it.
Mari swallowed hard. Her throat burned.
"The gas pump was still locked in," she said quietly. Her voice was steady, but it took everything she had to keep it that way. "If I'd pulled out, the hose would've ripped. Sparks. Metal. Fuel everywhere."
She lifted one hand from the wheel just long enough to point down the street.
"There's a fire," she said. "Further down. I saw it when we pulled in. If we'd moved, we could've blown ourselves up."
They hadn't seen it.
But Mari had.
And even if that hadn't been true—she knew something else was.
She had never planned to leave Justin.
Not really.
Gasoline began pouring down the side of the Jeep.
They heard it before they saw it—a steady, relentless hiss as fuel splashed against metal, ran down the door, dripped onto the pavement beneath them.
The smell hit next.
Sharp. Suffocating.
Lila gagged silently, pressing her face into Kenzie's shoulder.
"Oh my God," Renee whispered. "Why hasn't it shut off?"
Dot shifted painfully in her seat, cane braced between her feet. "Old service pump," she murmured. "These aren't like the newer ones. No auto-stop if the line breaks or the handle's locked."
She shook her head slowly. "That's why they upgraded most stations. Too much loss. Too much risk."
The irony landed heavy.
The zombies were drawn to the sound.
More of them drifted toward the pump, toward the Jeep, heads tilting, mouths opening and closing like they were listening to music only they could hear. One slapped a hand against the door near Marcus's head, leaving a smeared red print.
Marcus froze completely.
No one breathed.
They stayed still.
Still as corpses.
The gas kept pouring.
Down the side of the Jeep.
Onto the ground.
Every second felt like a countdown.
Mari whispered under her breath, not even realizing she was doing it. "Please. Please. Please."
Kenzie squeezed her eyes shut.
Renee wiped silent tears from her cheeks.
Dot's lips moved in prayer.
And then—
The sound stopped.
Not all at once.
It sputtered.
Coughed.
Then cut off completely.
For a split second, no one believed it.
Then Mari realized she was holding her breath and let it out in a shaking exhale.
"They made it inside," she whispered.
She prayed she was right.
Outside, the zombies shifted, confused by the sudden silence. A few lingered near the pump, sniffing, smearing hands through the spilled gas. Others wandered back toward the body.
What was left of the woman.
Some of them cried then.
Quietly.
Uncontrollably.
Lila pressed her face into Kenzie's shoulder and sobbed without sound. Renee turned away, shoulders shaking. Marcus stared straight ahead, eyes empty, jaw clenched so tight it trembled.
Mari closed her eyes for half a second.
When she opened them, she looked straight ahead again.
"What are we going to do now?" someone whispered.
No one answered.
Because outside, the dead still wandered.
Inside, Justin was still gone.
And the Jeep—full of people who loved him—sat trapped in a sea of bodies, soaked in gasoline, waiting for a miracle none of them believed in anymore.