Question
The swarm of crazed people was rushing toward them. Mac turned the keys in the truck's ignition. The
engine sputtered but refused to turn on. "Try again," said Dennis. Mac turned the keys again. Again the
engine coughed, and the emergency lights flickered before it cut out. Mac tried to stay calm, but he felt a
wave of cold panic.
"Keep trying the engine," said Dennis. "I'll hop out and try to push the truck to start."
Dennis jumped out of the truck and ran to the back. He shoved the truck's bumper, pushing all of his
weight against the vehicle. Inside the truck, Mac kept turning the key in the ignition. Dennis could hear the
angry roar of the mob as they grew closer. Dennis gave one final push and felt the truck move. He
scrambled into the truck's bed. "Go, go, go!" he screamed at Mac.
Mac turned the truck into a U-turn. The wheels screeched as the back of the truck swung around. In the
truck's bed, Dennis directly faced the people running at them. He no longer needed binoculars to see their
wild eyes. The crowd was only twenty feet away.
"Go!" Dennis screamed again, and Mac slammed on the gas. The truck sped forward, and Dennis clung to
the sides of it to keep from falling off the back. He was drenched in sweat, and his hands were still
shaking.
Mac and Dennis drove back the way they had come, away from the city and the hordes. Once they had
driven far enough that they thought it was safe to stop, Mac pulled over to the side of the road. He paused
the truck just long enough for Dennis to jump back into the passenger seat.
"Were those zombies?" asked Mac.
"I don't know," said Dennis. "Whatever they were, they didn't seem completely human. That must be what
the plague does to people."
The young men talked over their next move as they drove. Big cities seemed dangerous, but the small
towns were abandoned. Should they head back to the ranch? Go deeper into the wilderness? Or try to
find other survivors who were also on the run? There was no easy answer. No matter what decision they
made, it would be risky.
ReadWorks.org · © 2015 ReadWorks®, Inc. All rights reserved.
Refueling [The Run Series, #2]
"Let's stop at the next gas station and fill up some extra containers," said Mac. "We need to get more gas.
I don't want to be low on fuel the next time we come across a group like that." Dennis stared out the
window silently. He was hoping they would never come across a group like that again.
They passed a gas station a few miles down the road. They approached the gas station slowly, checking
for signs of life, but there were none. Dennis hopped out and opened the gas cap. The gas pump seemed
to be working, so he filled up the truck's tank. Once the tank was full, Dennis began filling up extra
containers and putting them in the truck's bed.
Mac decided that he would go inside the gas station to look for additional food and supplies. They still had
some cornbread and apples from the ranch, but he didn't know when they would be able to stop again.
Mac was beginning to realize that life as he knew it was over. They needed to be ready to survive.
"I'm going to head inside to find extra food," Mac said to Dennis. "Here are the keys to the truck. Be ready
to get in and drive away quickly if we have to make a fast escape."
Dennis nodded and took the keys. "Be careful, Mac," he said. "Who knows what you'll find in there."
Mac opened the door to the gas station slowly. The inside was dark and silent. "Hello?" he called,
"Anybody there?" Mac flipped a switch on the wall, and fluorescent lights flickered on. He looked around at
the empty store. There were signs of a struggle. Bags of chips and candy were trampled on the floor. One
of the glass refrigerator doors had been torn off its hinges. Mac stood, holding his breath, listening. All he
heard was the hum of the refrigerators and the sound of Dennis filling up outside.
Mac grabbed a few plastic bags from the counter. He filled them with enough supplies for a few more
weeks: trail mix, bottled water, medicine, granola bars, and jars of peanut butter. Mac wondered if he
should pay for these things. He wasn't sure if the owner of the gas station was even alive, and Mac and
Dennis might need the money later. Then, Mac remembered Ann Greerson's goodbye back at the ranch.
She had told them to remember their manners. Mac didn't want to let her down. He reached into his wallet
and found a twenty-dollar bill. He had just placed it on the counter, when he heard a sound behind him.
Mac froze. He wasn't alone in the store.
Outside, Dennis had filled up six containers with gasoline. He climbed into the front seat and put the keys
in the ignition. He turned on the radio, but all he could find was static. Dennis kept moving the dial and
searching for a station. Suddenly, the static cleared, and he heard a voice.
"Is anyone out there?" the voice said. It was a girl's voice. "My name is Anna Johnson. This is my father's
radio kit. He's gone now. The plague arrived in Sunnydale one week ago." The girl's voice shook with
sobs. "I just want to know if there's anyone else out there. Anyone who's still human." Dennis felt horrible
for her. He and Mac had each other, but Anna was all alone. Dennis looked at the clock. It had been fifteen
minutes. He felt uneasy; it shouldn't have taken Mac this long to grab a few supplies.
Suddenly, he heard his name. "Dennis! Dennis!" Mac was crying out for him from inside the store. Dennis
jumped out of the truck and ran toward the entrance.
where to find them
engine sputtered but refused to turn on. "Try again," said Dennis. Mac turned the keys again. Again the
engine coughed, and the emergency lights flickered before it cut out. Mac tried to stay calm, but he felt a
wave of cold panic.
"Keep trying the engine," said Dennis. "I'll hop out and try to push the truck to start."
Dennis jumped out of the truck and ran to the back. He shoved the truck's bumper, pushing all of his
weight against the vehicle. Inside the truck, Mac kept turning the key in the ignition. Dennis could hear the
angry roar of the mob as they grew closer. Dennis gave one final push and felt the truck move. He
scrambled into the truck's bed. "Go, go, go!" he screamed at Mac.
Mac turned the truck into a U-turn. The wheels screeched as the back of the truck swung around. In the
truck's bed, Dennis directly faced the people running at them. He no longer needed binoculars to see their
wild eyes. The crowd was only twenty feet away.
"Go!" Dennis screamed again, and Mac slammed on the gas. The truck sped forward, and Dennis clung to
the sides of it to keep from falling off the back. He was drenched in sweat, and his hands were still
shaking.
Mac and Dennis drove back the way they had come, away from the city and the hordes. Once they had
driven far enough that they thought it was safe to stop, Mac pulled over to the side of the road. He paused
the truck just long enough for Dennis to jump back into the passenger seat.
"Were those zombies?" asked Mac.
"I don't know," said Dennis. "Whatever they were, they didn't seem completely human. That must be what
the plague does to people."
The young men talked over their next move as they drove. Big cities seemed dangerous, but the small
towns were abandoned. Should they head back to the ranch? Go deeper into the wilderness? Or try to
find other survivors who were also on the run? There was no easy answer. No matter what decision they
made, it would be risky.
ReadWorks.org · © 2015 ReadWorks®, Inc. All rights reserved.
Refueling [The Run Series, #2]
"Let's stop at the next gas station and fill up some extra containers," said Mac. "We need to get more gas.
I don't want to be low on fuel the next time we come across a group like that." Dennis stared out the
window silently. He was hoping they would never come across a group like that again.
They passed a gas station a few miles down the road. They approached the gas station slowly, checking
for signs of life, but there were none. Dennis hopped out and opened the gas cap. The gas pump seemed
to be working, so he filled up the truck's tank. Once the tank was full, Dennis began filling up extra
containers and putting them in the truck's bed.
Mac decided that he would go inside the gas station to look for additional food and supplies. They still had
some cornbread and apples from the ranch, but he didn't know when they would be able to stop again.
Mac was beginning to realize that life as he knew it was over. They needed to be ready to survive.
"I'm going to head inside to find extra food," Mac said to Dennis. "Here are the keys to the truck. Be ready
to get in and drive away quickly if we have to make a fast escape."
Dennis nodded and took the keys. "Be careful, Mac," he said. "Who knows what you'll find in there."
Mac opened the door to the gas station slowly. The inside was dark and silent. "Hello?" he called,
"Anybody there?" Mac flipped a switch on the wall, and fluorescent lights flickered on. He looked around at
the empty store. There were signs of a struggle. Bags of chips and candy were trampled on the floor. One
of the glass refrigerator doors had been torn off its hinges. Mac stood, holding his breath, listening. All he
heard was the hum of the refrigerators and the sound of Dennis filling up outside.
Mac grabbed a few plastic bags from the counter. He filled them with enough supplies for a few more
weeks: trail mix, bottled water, medicine, granola bars, and jars of peanut butter. Mac wondered if he
should pay for these things. He wasn't sure if the owner of the gas station was even alive, and Mac and
Dennis might need the money later. Then, Mac remembered Ann Greerson's goodbye back at the ranch.
She had told them to remember their manners. Mac didn't want to let her down. He reached into his wallet
and found a twenty-dollar bill. He had just placed it on the counter, when he heard a sound behind him.
Mac froze. He wasn't alone in the store.
Outside, Dennis had filled up six containers with gasoline. He climbed into the front seat and put the keys
in the ignition. He turned on the radio, but all he could find was static. Dennis kept moving the dial and
searching for a station. Suddenly, the static cleared, and he heard a voice.
"Is anyone out there?" the voice said. It was a girl's voice. "My name is Anna Johnson. This is my father's
radio kit. He's gone now. The plague arrived in Sunnydale one week ago." The girl's voice shook with
sobs. "I just want to know if there's anyone else out there. Anyone who's still human." Dennis felt horrible
for her. He and Mac had each other, but Anna was all alone. Dennis looked at the clock. It had been fifteen
minutes. He felt uneasy; it shouldn't have taken Mac this long to grab a few supplies.
Suddenly, he heard his name. "Dennis! Dennis!" Mac was crying out for him from inside the store. Dennis
jumped out of the truck and ran toward the entrance.
where to find them
Answers
GPT-4o mini
As Dennis burst through the gas station's door, he looked around and quickly spotted Mac, who was standing rigid at the back of the store, eyes wide with fear.
“Mac! What happened?” Dennis shouted, feeling the tension crackle in the air.
“There’s someone in here!” Mac replied, his voice barely a whisper. “I think they're... changed. Just like those people we saw earlier.”
Dennis’s heart raced. He scanned the room, noticing scattered debris and the stark signs of chaos. “Where are they?”
“Over there,” Mac nodded slowly toward the shadows near the back of the store. A figure was lurking behind a shelf, half-hidden from view—clothes torn and dirty, with a wild look in their eyes.
“Stay back, Mac!” Dennis warned, stepping in front of him instinctively. “We need to get out of here.”
“Right, but what if they’re not dangerous?” Mac asked, his voice trembling. “What if they just need help?”
“No way to take that risk, man,” Dennis replied firmly, glancing at the figure again. “We’ll grab what we have and leave.”
But just as they turned to head toward the exit, the figure stepped fully into the light—a gaunt young man—eyes sunken, skin pale, and movements jittery. He seemed almost lost, a shell of a person rather than a menacing threat.
“Please… help me,” the young man rasped, his voice strained. “I’m not like them. I’m still… human.”
Dennis and Mac exchanged quick, worried glances. This was just what they feared; there was no guarantee of safety.
“Get back!” Dennis shouted, raising his arms as a barrier. The young man recoiled, and Dennis felt a pang of sympathy, but survival instinct kicked in.
“Let’s go!” Mac urged, already moving toward the exit.
As they started to back away, the young man lurched forward suddenly. “I need food! Anything, please!”
“Hold it right there!” Dennis growled, trying to maintain control.
“Dennis!” Mac shouted again, “We have to leave. Now!”
With adrenaline pumping, they backed out of the store. The tension crackled in the air as they hastily made their way back to the truck, hearts racing. Just as Mac reached for the door handle, the shadowed figure stumbled after them, desperation driving him forward.
“They’re coming! They’re all coming!” the young man cried, panic rising in his voice.
Mac and Dennis hopped into the truck just as the young man reached out, his hand grazing against the door. Dennis slammed it shut, heart hammering as he fumbled for the keys.
“Go! Go!” Mac shouted, already turning the ignition as the engine roared to life.
Dennis glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to see the figure falter, surrounded by the haunting sounds of chaos outside—the calls of the changed, the cries of the lost.
“Drive!” he urged, the urgency of the moment overtaking them.
Mac hit the gas. The truck lurched forward, tires screeching against the pavement as they pulled away from the gas station and headed down the desolate road, the haunting images of what they’d left behind burned into their minds.
“Mac! What happened?” Dennis shouted, feeling the tension crackle in the air.
“There’s someone in here!” Mac replied, his voice barely a whisper. “I think they're... changed. Just like those people we saw earlier.”
Dennis’s heart raced. He scanned the room, noticing scattered debris and the stark signs of chaos. “Where are they?”
“Over there,” Mac nodded slowly toward the shadows near the back of the store. A figure was lurking behind a shelf, half-hidden from view—clothes torn and dirty, with a wild look in their eyes.
“Stay back, Mac!” Dennis warned, stepping in front of him instinctively. “We need to get out of here.”
“Right, but what if they’re not dangerous?” Mac asked, his voice trembling. “What if they just need help?”
“No way to take that risk, man,” Dennis replied firmly, glancing at the figure again. “We’ll grab what we have and leave.”
But just as they turned to head toward the exit, the figure stepped fully into the light—a gaunt young man—eyes sunken, skin pale, and movements jittery. He seemed almost lost, a shell of a person rather than a menacing threat.
“Please… help me,” the young man rasped, his voice strained. “I’m not like them. I’m still… human.”
Dennis and Mac exchanged quick, worried glances. This was just what they feared; there was no guarantee of safety.
“Get back!” Dennis shouted, raising his arms as a barrier. The young man recoiled, and Dennis felt a pang of sympathy, but survival instinct kicked in.
“Let’s go!” Mac urged, already moving toward the exit.
As they started to back away, the young man lurched forward suddenly. “I need food! Anything, please!”
“Hold it right there!” Dennis growled, trying to maintain control.
“Dennis!” Mac shouted again, “We have to leave. Now!”
With adrenaline pumping, they backed out of the store. The tension crackled in the air as they hastily made their way back to the truck, hearts racing. Just as Mac reached for the door handle, the shadowed figure stumbled after them, desperation driving him forward.
“They’re coming! They’re all coming!” the young man cried, panic rising in his voice.
Mac and Dennis hopped into the truck just as the young man reached out, his hand grazing against the door. Dennis slammed it shut, heart hammering as he fumbled for the keys.
“Go! Go!” Mac shouted, already turning the ignition as the engine roared to life.
Dennis glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to see the figure falter, surrounded by the haunting sounds of chaos outside—the calls of the changed, the cries of the lost.
“Drive!” he urged, the urgency of the moment overtaking them.
Mac hit the gas. The truck lurched forward, tires screeching against the pavement as they pulled away from the gas station and headed down the desolate road, the haunting images of what they’d left behind burned into their minds.