Reset

It was the first time she heard any signs of life at all. The birds chirped, not many, and not like the summer or spring mornings she recalled sitting on her deck reading, being captured into a good book, drawn in by the words, then hearing the insane amount of chirping. That would always cause her to lift her head from her electronic reading device and see the sky had started to become light.

That was what she heard before she fell asleep. It wasn’t the birds that kept her up. Not the noise but the essence of life. She hadn’t seen an animal or bird at all. It was a sign that things may actually be brighter than she had imagined. Because in Nora’s mind, things were dim. She prepared herself for darkness. And the lights would be a welcome surprise.

How long had she been sleeping? She didn’t know, and she looked at her watch that had been placed in the stasis units with them. If she only knew what time she fell asleep she’d be able to gauge how long she slumbered.

She felt rested, and the time was after nine AM. That alone told her the battery was charged enough for them to get moving. Jason moved around at a high energy level. He fixed coffee, and made breakfast out of that yellow powder which turned out to be eggs.

“We have to watch our water,” said Jason

“I know. We don’t know what it’s like out there, or if there is fresh water anywhere to be found. Hey, at least we have the purifiers.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “At least we have that.” He then snapped his finger as if he just remembered something. “You said you were in the service, right?”

“Right.”

“So I’m guessing you have mad survival skills.”

Nora laughed. “Hardly.”

“But don’t they teach you that stuff in the service?”

“Yes, they do. I have some. But not like you would think.”

“I thought you saw combat.” Jason said

“I did. I was a radio operator.” I said. “So I have some technical skills. I also am pretty smart to know that we shouldn’t drink the water unless we find it in a fresh well. Even then, we should run it through our purifier bottles.”

Following what normally was inane conversation, they ate their breakfast and packed up what little things they had set up as a camp. Things would look bright. The sun was shining pretty well, the weather was perfect and the slight breeze would keep it cool.

Within hours they would have the first of their answers. Because within hours… they would be at Jason’s home.

<><><><>

Malcolm lost a good hour and a half of travel. He figured that out because when they began their journey they were heading west. Amy’s family was the first stop. Now, since her passing, all that had changed.

He switched gears, and direction. He now headed north. And then he would head more westward when he neared where he had to be. He figured by the end of his day’s journey, he would be west of St. Louis and a little bit closer to home.

It was more gut instinct that told Malcolm it was a good thing they didn’t head north to begin with. That Nashville was a bust. It wasn’t just the closed highways that would head that way, but something more telling. The most ominous thing he saw was the green ‘miles to go’ sign. A simple guide for travelers became a source of sadness for Malcolm. On the green sign, in red paint, not only was ‘Nashville’ crossed out, but in droopy red spray paint across the top, were the words, “all dead there.”

Of all the signs on the road, all the city names he had seen, not once did another sign have a town crossed out.

He took the back roads, which added to his time. That was fine with him. After the run in with the crazy Cindy lady, Malcolm didn’t want to meet another person. In fact, he pulled out his revolver that had been packed for him, from the “just in case” supplies. He placed it next to him on the passenger seat. He wouldn’t hesitate to use it. It was loaded and ready to go. After that incident, he wasn’t giving anyone a chance to countdown his death.

His travels were filled with semi-clear roads, dusty roads, and nearly impossible to drive across roads. It was discouraging when he ran into those patches and had to hold his breath that the buggy would make it through. Just about two hours in his trip on the road, Malcolm felt a twinge of hunger in his stomach. He knew he should’ve eaten before he left. But he just wanted to move ahead. The faster he got ready and drove, the faster he would get home. He was making remarkable time and hated to stop. But his lower back was killing him and his knees ached from being cramped. He waited until he found a clear spot and then he pulled over into the brush.

Again he didn’t want to take a chance of being spotted or running into another crazy person. Obviously, if there was one, like Cindy, there were others.

He paused only briefly to eat quickly, walk off his aches, and then he got back into the buggy.

Another mile down the road he ran into a stoppage.

“Not again,” he said out loud