On the Road to Salvation????

Posted on Sun Jul 14th, 2024 @ 4:02am by Timothy Cotton

532 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Winter is Coming
Location: Various spots on I-95
Timeline: Current

The mind understands precious little in the first moments of coming awake. Unless you were TJ Cotton. He was a rare breed, military born and raised, so when his eyes opened, he was already wide awake. He rolled off the mattress he had been sleeping on in the empty house he had found here in Medfield, Mass. He had been in Fayetteville, NC for some updated survival training when the world went to hell and people he knew and cared about had turned in mindless, homicidal creatures. He had managed to get out with the shirt on his back and some equipment.

He had desperately wanted to get back to his parent's home and Kelly, but the zombies were everywhere, so that plan was put on hold until he was better prepared than arriving on just a motorcycle and one rifle. He would need at least a squad to accompany him. However, he had run into a few other survivors who had talked of a base, a safe haven where other survivors were gathering. It was in Maine, at the Maine Medical Center near Augusta Maine. It had been a long trek, days turning into weeks, and one week turning into two, three. His motorcycle had run out of gas back in Delaware and with the undead literally crawling in the streets he was forced to abandon it and forced to proceed on foot. Though he was constantly look for another motorcycle or a bike.
So, here he was in small town just outside of Boston. It seemed deserted as he stealthily moved about not wishing to arouse any unwanted attention from the living or dead. He had found a Dollar General store that had a few food items (mostly snacks and some peanuts) along with a few bottles of water which he stuffed into rucksack. Beggars can't be choosers He reminded himself as he opened a can of Underwood Devil Chicken and spooned it out with his fingers. When he had finished, he wiped his fingers on his pant leg, threw the rucksack over his shoulder, gripped his trusty rifle and stepped out in the early morning. It was a typical New England late summer, early fall day. With a slight coolness in the day. But as the sun rose in the sky the coolness would disappear faster than an ice cream cone melting on a summer day.

"Alright TJ. Got a long way to go and the trip isn't getting any shorter standing here." He muttered to himself and with that, he said out for the rumored safe haven. He looked at a road sign that read Boston-28 miles. "Alright Boston is my next stop. Hopefully I can find some more rations cause Maine is still a long way from Boston." He told himself undeterred by the distance. He figured he could make Boston in about eight hours barring any run ins with the undead or just unexpected detours.

So, with a final look to make sure he had everything worth taking, Tj headed for Boston and whatever the future had in store for him. As he walked, he softly sang, "On the road again, back on the road again...."

 

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