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eyes could see, then used his rifle’s scope to follow them farther and saw that they led to the Galleria’s parking lot. From there, as he’d expected, the tracks headed up the hill to the Home Depot.
    Heading downstairs—armed with his .45, a Heckler and Koch machine gun strapped to his back, and a hunting knife—he exited the building in a rush to get to his snowmobile and came face to face with a pack of undead.
    More annoyed than surprised, he growled expletives and withdrew his handgun. The rotting things must’ve been right up against the building and under the lip of the roof, making it impossible for him to see them from his perch. 
    Raising the .45, a Kimber Tactical, he shot the closest zombie in the forehead and splattered its brains across the others behind it. Without hesitation, not a shred of fear for their undead lives, they stepped toward him, arms out, reaching. Cable paused for a moment, thinking two of the zombies were alive, their faces unmarked and colorful. Then he saw the vacant looks in their eyes and the worn and filthy condition of their clothing.
    Adjusting his aim, he quickly downed the remaining four. With no other undead in the immediate area, he didn’t care about making noise, and in fact, enjoyed getting to shoot something.
    He stood over the corpses, wondering what the hell was going on. The others were pale, gaunt and rotting, with gashes along their arms and face, one with a missing ear. 
    Doesn’t matter, he thought. Good shape or not, they were all mindless flesh eaters that needed to be put down or used to his advantage.
    Moving on, he headed to the tree line where he had stashed the snowmobile. After dusting the snow off the cover, he rolled it up and stuffed it under the seat. The machine started with a push of the button, and Cable was cruising across the overpass within moments.
    Undead from all around took notice and worked their way toward him. Cable raced along, following his prey’s snowmobile’s tracks. He reached the home improvement store in no time. With the deep snow impeding the already slow undead, it would be a while before they reached him—if the stiff-legged things could even climb the hill.
    He took notice of the walled entrance, wondering if it was something recently built or had been up for a while. He drove the snowmobile within a few feet of it, keeping a watchful eye on the blockade. The building had no windows, so he wasn’t worried about someone seeing him, and the wooden wall had no apparent slots or cut outs where a gun could be shot from.  
    Leaving the engine running, Cable hopped off the sled and walked up to the barrier. The air was ripe with the odor of freshly-used lumber, and then he understood the blockade had recently been erected. He pushed on the plywood in a couple of places and found the wall solid. He nodded to himself, knowing what he had to do.
    Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the pack of undead was approaching the incline. A few stragglers were working their way over from the highway too.
    Removing his jacket, Cable tore the right sleeve off his long john undershirt before zipping the garment back up. He unscrewed the gas cap on the snowmobile and shoved the sleeve inside. After allowing it to soak in the flammable liquid for a minute, he pulled the sleeve out and approached the wall. The smell of gasoline wafted around him like an unseen demon waiting to wreak havoc.
    With the dripping piece of fabric, Cable whipped it at the blockade and sent splashes of gasoline across the wood. When he was satisfied with the task, he laid the sleeve out along the bottom of the wall, lit a match from the book of matches he carried, and watched the wood ignite. He stepped back as flames burst to life. The wall quickly became an inferno as well as the target he needed the undead to head toward.
    Climbing back on the snowmobile, he turned the throttle, sped off and parked behind a large box truck. From there, he had a good view of the