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his
head toward the bodies outside.
    The cowboy smiled in reply. 
“I hate to trouble you two, but I could sure use a ride.”
    Boggs relaxed a bit more and put
his hand over mine as I squeezed his arm.  I was trying to let him know I
didn’t trust the man.
    “Our rig isn’t big and it’s packed
full.  We can rearrange a few things and put one of the back passenger
seats up.”  I squeezed Boggs’ arm a little harder when he said this. 
“Zoe, grab your chips?  Let’s make this quick.”
    Gus held his hand back out to
Boggs, some sort of masculine form of agreement mixed with thanks.  “Mind
if I grab a few things before we load up?”  Without waiting for an answer,
the man jumped the counter and grabbed as many cartons of cigarettes and cans
of chew as he could fit into a plastic sack.
    Boggs looked at me and
whispered.  “ It’s okay, Zo.  Strength in numbers.    Just like
in the movies.”    He winked at me.
     I nodded at him, let go of
his arm, and picked up my chips and bean dip.
    The man came back around from
behind the counter.  “Ready.”
    Boggs spoke to both me and the
cowboy.  “We need to rearrange the stuff in the rig.  Zoe, Gus and I
are going to go out and move some stuff around.  I want you to stay
inside.  You have a couple minutes to grab anything else you need. 
Keep it small.  It’s going to be cramped.”
    “’Kay.   But I don’t like it,” I answered. 
    I watched them walk outside. 
Feeling suddenly very alone, my body shuddered.  I grabbed my own empty
plastic sacks from the counter and loaded one with Cherry Coke one-liters and
bottles of apple juice.  I put my Doritos and bean dip in the other. 
I walked with the sacks toward the back of the store where they sold a stock of
souvenirs and picked out a white t-shirt that said “Seattle” on the front with
a cheesy drawing of the Space Needle.  The only size they had was an
extra-large, but I took it anyway.
    “Zoe.  Come on. It’s time,”
said Boggs, indicating that he and Gus were ready. 
    I walked toward the door, stopping
at the body that lay in my path.  Boggs encouraged me with a soft
voice.  “C’mon, just step over.”  He held his hand out in an offer to
take my bags, then held the other out for me to grab for support.  I clung
to the t-shirt in one hand, and with the other held his hand tightly while I
stepped over the once-junkie-now-dead young man.  Boggs put his free hand
on my back and led me to the passenger side of the Explorer.  “Zoe, I want
you to sit in back.  Gus has his own gun, so I want you to hold mine.” 
Gus was several feet away smoking a cigarette and watching for more of the
undead.  Boggs lowered his voice.  “Remember what I told you about
it.  I’m sure this guy will be fine, but I’ll feel better if you’re behind
him with the gun.”
    I nodded and slid into the cramped
back seat.  The smallish SUV was packed with what we thought might be
useful:  sleeping bags, pillows, a two-man tent, bottled water, food,
candles, a lighter, and the toilet paper that surrounded the photo I had
hidden.  Back in his garage Boggs had laid the back seats flat for more
stowage, so with my seat now upright the sacks from the store threatened to
fall on me.  The Kahr sat on my lap.
    My shirt smelled like vomit from
my episode on the stairs before we left home, so I pulled it over my head exposing
my pale blue bra for only a moment.  Just as fast, I pulled the new
t-shirt over my head.  Gus was beside the car now, smiling at me.  He
winked.  My face reddened.  The cowboy got into the front passenger
seat at the same time Boggs slid into the driver’s position.  He took off
his felt cowboy hat and set it between the two front seats.
    “We just filled the tank,” said
Boggs.  “We’re headed east toward the mountains, hoping to cross the
valley via Highway 2.”
    Gus nodded.  “To head that
way we’d have to go south first.”  He tucked a pinch of