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Riff 022916

image: Country Path © Dainis Derics | Dreamstime Stock Photos
image: Country Path © Dainis Derics | Dreamstime Stock Photos

The road stretched on in front of them, disappearing in to the distance. It was the same road they had been looking at for the last several days. The end never seemed to get any closer and there had been no side roads. Just the same dirt track going and going and going.

It seemed like they had been traveling forever, though it had been a week at most. It started in chaos. The raid on their camp, the screams of those with whom they had been camping coming out of the darkness, the inhuman growls of whatever it was that had torn through their camp, it was all like a distant memory. The feeling they were being tracked kept it all too current for John.

“We’ve got a few more hours of daylight. Best to keep an eye out for a somewhat secure location to camp.”

None of them felt secure camping in the open, not after their group dropped from almost two dozen to the four of them. As far as any of them knew, they were the only ones able to get out in one piece. Or any number of pieces for that matter.

Since their panicked flight, the routine had been the same. March through the day, find someplace they could lock or barricade for the night, sleep as best they could, and move out at first light. The routine was taking its toll on all of them, physically and mentally. But they all felt the need to put as much space between themselves and that night as possible.

After another hour, Claire spotted a building in the distance and the group picked up their pace. If they could get there with at least an hour or two before sundown, they might be able to try to scrounge up something to eat. Their supplies had been low when they fled the massacre and were now all but gone.

The building came into view and their hopes diminished. It looked like it had been a gas station before the Fall. If it had not already been picked clean they might be able to find something to eat, but it did not bode well for a secure shelter. Still they pressed on. Options were not plentiful and they would have to take what they could get.

After giving the structure a few minutes of observation, they moved up to it. The front windows were long gone, the occasional glint of broken glass on the ground in front of the frame baring the only testament to the window’s previous existence. The interior was a wreck. It looked like it had been picked over multiple times. Still, somehow, Phil managed to pull a couple of tins of something from the debris, the labels missing, though that was not a surprise. In the five years since the Fall, so many things had fallen to time and the elements it would have been surprising to find a can with its label still legible, let alone present.

The one pleasant surprise was the walk in freezer in the back. They opened the door and backed off to let it air out as long as they could before securing it from the inside for the night. The smell of old rot still lingered, but was at least bearable, at least for a night. They all settled in and set up their usual watch rotation.

It was several hours later when the door thumped. Claire turned on the flashlight and illuminated the door. The rope and chains they had secured to the inner handle looked secure enough, but Claire lowered the shotgun all the same. She kicked John, who groaned and sat up.

“There’s something out there.”, she whispered, “It just tried the door.”

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