She would practice shooting once away from the city. Her ex, Dick, had harassed her into going to the gun range. Being a nurse, she’d seen her share of gunshot wounds and wanted no part of the weapons her ex-husband so loved. Now she was glad for the knowledge. She didn’t know a lot about the different weapons, but she did know how to fire them and she did know how to figure them out safely. She looked over to the dog. At least she now had a companion. She’d have to give the dog a name. There was no collar nor tags. She sighed and sat back. She dreaded leaving this place for the great unknown, but she had to leave.
She picked up the road atlas and flipped it open. Before her were thousands of choices. She but her mind kept going back to a place she was familiar with. A place that she’d felt loved and safe. Raymond B. Winter State Park in Pennsylvania. It was nearly seven hundred acres of wilderness, but had trails, fishing and hunting. It also had cottages, and she was sure there were lots of camping sites. She and her parents went there every year since she could walk. It was a place she loved. Laughing, at the thought, she noticed that the dog looked up at her questioningly.
“I guess I knew all along where I was going. And now with you, I think it’s safe to say that I’m ready to leave. Tomorrow, I’m going to find us a truck. There are a few around the neighborhood, it’s just a matter of finding the keys that go to it. That shouldn’t be a problem, I’ll just have to search every apartment for truck keys.” She laughed again, shaking her head at the monumental task of locating keys to a vehicle. She’d had her eye on a beauty, a blue Silverado. It was a quad cab. She could pack a lot of food and supplies in that, not to mention the truck bed. She’d need a lot and once she got to the park, she’d have to see what she needed to set up her future there.
She’d also have to swing by her parent’s home. She knew they were dead, though. She’d lost contact with them the first week. Her mother had called to say that her father was sick. Her mother hadn’t sounded that good either. Two days later, neither parent answered the phone. She’d grieved for them. But she wanted to swing by her old home and pick up a few personal and sentimental things. There was no more procrastinating. She had to leave this place. She had to begin anew.
Getting up, she grabbed the .38 and tucked it into her waist band. She went to the door; she’d make another run to the store and get dog food. Maybe look around for seed packets. She’d have to start a garden fast. Maybe some canning jars.
“Come on dog, let’s go find you some chow.”
Ӝ
Flynn Kellerman clicked the remote, nothing happened. His face was pale with fear and horror. All the channels had been reporting the same thing; the Vermilion Strain was spreading with ferocious speed across the world. Then there had been the steady warning banner, now nothing. The power was out. Shit, when had that happened? It had only been two weeks, or was it three, when the first cases had been reported? He was losing track of time. The virus had started in several large cities all over the world, including Philadelphia. South Korea claimed the first victim, but it had been a vague report and then all the other countries jumped in. It was a virus, Atlanta CDC identified as EV-01-H, a mutated hemorrhagic virus, origins unknown.
China had been screaming that the U.S. had let loose this plague. The United States said that China, in fact, was the culprit, that had let the deadly virus run amuck. Nations had been pointing fingers and nuclear launches were threatened, and Flynn had been terrified that a bomb would drop on Philly any moment. Now, the power was out. He felt so isolated and alone now. The accusations had gone back and forth, yet millions were dying, no matter the architect of the virus and no cure in sight.
“End of days.” Flynn breathed, his mouth dry with terror. Flynn wasn’t a high-strung doomsday fanatic, but Christ in heaven, so many were dying so fast. He looked around his apartment, and wondered if this would be his tomb. At twenty-three, he’d only just begun to live his life. He’d just gotten this apartment six months ago, and now, his life would be cut short. He’d just met a great girl, Xandra, and he was pretty sure she was already dead. His whole world was crashing around him, all because of this Vermilion virus. He was alone in this world; his father having died last year, heart attack after smoking for a lifetime. His mother long dead. He had no one.
The Vermilion Strain was aptly named, the virus strain caused its victims to bleed out of every orifice, their skin turning deep shade of scarlet or vermilion from the burst capillaries
