Apartment 905 by Sahin, Ned (readnow .TXT) 📕

The sun starts to settle down. We should keep going as further as we can before it gets dark. The last thing I want is to get stranded on this chaotic highway near a big city that was destroyed in civil unrest. There is a problem, though. We only have a quarter tank of gas left.

“We should look for gas,” I say. Kathleen is driving now. We pulled over before entering the city zone to switch drivers and fill the tank with the gas can we filled at the refinery.

“Not sure, Matt. It’s too dangerous,” Kathleen says. Her lips are pressing each other while her eyebrows are closing into her hairline. I know she is nervous and concerned, but we need to think ahead.

“If we continue, we’ll run out of gas on the mountain probably without any cars around to siphon gas from,” I say.

“Right…” She purses her lips again.

I turn my head back to Toshi sitting in the backseat.

“We should be quick,” he says.

Kathleen rolls her eyes at him in the rear-view mirror. Then she turns to me. “Is the siphon pump in the trunk?” she asks. Rowan gave us a siphon pump so we can retrieve gas from other cars.

“Yeah...” I say.

She stops the car. We look around to make sure there is nobody around us before opening the doors. There are only cars, overgrown bushes, and lifeless bodies.

I see several emergency responders and military vehicles around. There is a fire truck with one of the back flashers still blinking.

Toshi and I get out of the car. I grab the siphon pump from the trunk. Toshi covers me with his bow, ready to shoot.

Instead of checking the passenger cars that were probably already emptied out, I decide to go for the fire truck. Other people who were desperately looking for gas most likely ignored this truck, thinking it won’t be too easy to siphon gas from it. They might be right, but I will give it a try. I hope the videos I watched as part of my apocalypse prepping during the first months of the pandemic will help me figure it out.

The truck has numerous valves. I look closely at the hood near the driver and passenger doors. Nothing that looks like a gas cap. I go around the truck one more time. Both sides have only water pipes.

“Any luck, Matt?” Kathleen yells from the car. The sun is moving down on the horizon. We should get going before the sky turns dark.

Toshi climbs on the roof of our car to have a better view in both directions.

I go to the rear of the truck and see an iron cap attached to a chain. This must be it. I try rotating the cap, but it doesn’t move. I try to loosen it up by shaking, hitting, and pulling it, but it doesn’t flex even an inch.

“Two people are walking this way!” Toshi says pointing to the direction we came from.

“Are they Ricas?” I ask.

“Um… Don’t think so. They are slow.” He shrinks his eyes to focus better.

I take a deep breath and push the cap counterclockwise with both of my hands one more time. It finally starts loosening up. I rotate it until the cap is completely off the hook.

I move the longer side of the siphon hose down to the tank. I pinch off the other side. I squeeze the ball pump and let it out. Nothing comes through the hose. I try it again and the oil finally comes up. I slide the other end of the hose into the can. Gravity takes care of the rest. Gas is slowly flowing.

“Don’t get closer!” Toshi yells to the people walking toward us. He is ready to release his bow.

They look like a couple in their 30s. They both have masks and backpacks. They raise their hands in the air.

“Can you give us a ride, please? We’ve been walking for days...” the man says.

Toshi shares a look with me. “No… We can’t,” he says. They turn to me with begging eyes.

I shake my head. I don’t trust them even a bit.

“Please… We have food. We’re healthy. We won’t slow you down,” the woman says. They don’t seem sick and their bags look packed, but it is still a significant risk to let them ride with us. We don’t even know if they have guns.

I glance at Kathleen. She looks hesitant. Toshi turns back to me to determine my opinion.

“We just need to get out of the city. You can leave us after a few miles. Please…” the man says.

As much as I want to believe them, asking for a ride for a few miles doesn’t sound realistic. It’s more like something a person says to get a seat in the car only to steal it from us later.

Half of the ten gallons was filled before the gas stopped flowing. This must be all the truck has. I seal the cap and carry it to the trunk.

“Stay there!” Toshi yells at them as they take a few steps forward. The man’s one hand is near his chest showing his palm to us, but the other hand is close to his jacket’s pocket. Toshi stretches the bow even more to show them how serious he is.

I push the trunk down and walk to the passenger door. Toshi jumps off the car’s roof and gets in the backseat.

“Please! I’m begging you!” the woman says one more time as her voice cracks. Tears flow down on her cheeks. It might be a sign of her good intentions or good acting skills. Either way, it’s still a bad decision to let them in.

I give them a final look before opening the door and getting in the car. They start running toward us.

“Go!” I yell to Kathleen. The car starts moving as the man grabs the handle of the back door while moving on the bumpy side curb. It looks like Toshi forgot to lock his door. He