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Chapter 4

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The sun shone above us as Chloe barked incessantly at the zombie inside the gas station. Spurred to greater efforts by the noise, the zombie pounded on the window in its desire to get to her.

"Enough, Chloe. Quiet," I told her firmly as I tried to pry the hinges off.

She quit barking, but her eyes never left the zombie that was watching her. Finally, I managed to get a window open and climbed in, leaving Chloe outside.

These remote, rural stores and gas stations were smaller than many houses and only carried the bare essentials. This one only contained five small aisles of shelving, but the shelves at least had supplies on them. The owner had likely kept looters at bay, and right on cue, the zombie finally noticed my presence and turned around with a growl. I snarled at the shopkeeper's welcome.

With another low growl, he turned back to the window and tried to claw his way through the pane of glass separating him from the dog. With an attitude like that, it's no wonder he has no customers today. Then again, I'm a terrible customer. I never pay for anything I take. He wouldn't complain though; he was long past caring about something as trivial as the fancy printed paper that still resided in the cashier's till.

I restocked my backpack, taking out some of the less desirable foods to make room for better stuff. This gas station even had a few dog treats and cans of fruit. I managed to wedge several small bottles of juice into the last bit of available space.

I exited through the window and closed it behind me.

"Alright, Chloe. Let's go."

Chloe promptly trotted over with a slightly wagging tail. She kept just out of my reach but seemed quite happy to be leaving the area. As I started a slow lope toward the trees, she ran ahead of me, eager to get away from the zombie in the gas station.

The wind stirred the branches of the trees ahead of me and had me sliding to a stop as I turned to face upwind. I sniffed the air again as the virus stirred at the faint scent of human blood.

I hesitated; my original human inclination was to help out, but the darker side of me was far too tempted by that scent. Human blood was much more potent than the regular smell of humans. Not only would I have to fight against the bloodlust, but if the person was armed, he or she may very well strike first and ask questions later.

I took another deep breath. The scent was very faint, far too weak for the other zombies to notice, let alone track. The injured person was a couple of miles away, and even if I ran, it would take me some time to get there.

The breeze blew a few loose strands of my hair away from my face, bringing with it a stronger scent. There must be a lot of blood; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to pick up this much detail at this sort of distance. The scent was that of a child. That decided it for me.

With a whistle to Chloe, I began running in the ditch beside the road since it was faster than trying to move through the trees. Thankfully, no zombies were in sight.

Chloe bounded out of the bushes and quickly followed. Runners may come close to matching a human's speed, but Nightstalkers were faster. I pushed for speed until Chloe was almost running full tilt. I was glad I had hunted last night – my control should be good enough to handle being around spilt human blood. Or so I hope.

After roughly ten minutes, Chloe was breathing hard. Then again, so was I. It was a long time to run at such a speed, even for me. The smell of blood was much stronger now, so I didn't slow down. We were almost there.

We were close enough that I could pick up the scents of several other people as well. Farther up the road, a car with its hood propped open had five zombies cramming themselves into the broken windows.

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