He walked around and picked up bits and pieces that littered the floor. He got down on his knees when he saw a candy bar under the shelf. He reached under and pulled it out. Peeling the paper, he bit into it. He sighed, eating it slowly. He sat on the floor of the station and looked around him. How was he going to survive? His lips trembled and he tried not to cry. His life had turned into some crazy-ass nightmare. He wiped angrily at the tears that began to seep out. He saw a road atlas on the floor and reached over to pick it up. He flipped open the book and looked at it. He’d never been good at reading maps. He had a GPS for that. He wasn’t sure his GPS still worked. He flipped the pages and thought. Where could he go?
Maybe Lancaster, where the Amish lived. Would the Amish take him in? He’d be willing to work for his food. At least there wouldn’t be an asshole like Casper there, at least he hoped there wouldn’t be. Finishing the candy bar, Flynn stood. He would go back to his apartment and pack up his things. He’d have to go through the other occupied apartments and get food. Christ, he’d have to see those dead bodies. He’d have to breathe that horrible air. He hoped he could find enough to last him a while, in case the Amish weren’t as hospitable as he hoped. It was only about an hour and a half drive to Lancaster. He sighed once more, his arm hurting badly and his stomach hurt too. That bastard had almost killed him. First the Vermilion virus, now this. In a world that had gone to hell, where was the compassion?
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Emma finished cramming everything she could into the back of the truck cab. Buddy was waiting for her, his tongue hanging out to the side. He was in the passenger’s seat. It had taken her three hours to locate the keys to the blue truck. She’d gone from apartment to apartment looking for truck keys. As it turned out, the keys were located a block away, in the second-floor apartment of a colonial. The apartment stunk badly and she knew the occupants were dead in their beds. She’d gathered up supplies from the cupboards and had left the place behind. Luckily, the gas tank was full. It was a six-hour drive to Lancaster.
If she needed gas, she had two small gas cans. She also had a hose, and hoped she’d not have to use it. In the back of the truck bed, she had supplies as well, shoved into big black plastic bags and taped up boxes. They were tied together to keep them from flying out of the back of the truck. She didn’t need a map. She’d driven home many times over the past three years. She stood on the running board on the driver’s side and looked around the place. She could see columns of smoke in different directions. Perhaps someone was burning the bodies. Good, that would help keep down disease.
There had been increased gunfire over the last couple days. Moving closer to her area. She ducked down into the truck and started it. Looking over at Buddy, she smiled. She pulled out onto the street and began to navigate her way out of Jamaica Plain. She’d always taken a rental car home; she didn’t need a car in Boston, nor had she wanted one. Boston had great public transportation, besides, driving here was a nightmare. Now, she was heading home in a big, badass pickup. At least she didn’t have to worry about traffic. She’d not seen any vehicles driving on her street for days.
Within twenty minutes, she was on the Massachusetts turnpike and headed westward. Her eyes scanned ahead. There were a few abandoned vehicles, but not many. It was eerie seeing no movement on the road. She saw more columns of smoke in the distance and she looked down into abandoned neighborhoods as she passed above them in several areas. Once she got onto I90, the housing developments began to thin out. She could feel the tension between her shoulders begin to relax. She’d lived in a constant state of fear and anxiety since the first cases rolled into Mass Gen.
She rolled her head and bent and flexed her neck. Looking over to Buddy, she smiled. The dog was looking out the window. She was going too fast to roll down the window. Maybe when they came to a place that where she was a lot farther away, she’d do it. For now, she just wanted out of this area. When she got to New Haven, she planned on cutting west. There was no way she was going anywhere near New York or Philadelphia. Escaping one large city for another wasn’t her idea of smart. There was no telling what kinds of hells were in those cities.
Once she got near Allentown, she’d drop down toward the southwest. She slowed her vehicle down, wanting to take a short break and do a little target practice. She wanted Buddy to also sniff around and go potty. She’d also give him water. She pulled over to the shoulder. A car was
