[Race for Safe Haven - Time to Go]
A third week had passed, and one morning when Rhett woke up, he
noticed there was no power in the house. He immediately dialed Jake while
walking through the house, trying every switch before heading into the garage
where the fuse box was. "Hel...hello?" Jake answered, trying to shrug
off sleep. "Dude, I have no power," Rhett said as he opened the fuse
box and started flipping every switch.
"Fascinating," Jake said, completely uninterested "Can I go back to sleep now?" Jake had no longer been as interested in conversing over the last few days. Rhett figured it was fatigue of the situation finally setting in, but he also realized that Jake had no longer been mentioning Austin, and was quick to change subjects whenever Rhett inquired about the man's brother.
"Do you have power?" Rhett asked as he gave up on the box and made his way back into the house. "Is this really important?" Jake asked.
"Yes," Rhett replied "Because if it's just me, then whatever. But if you don't have power either, then the entire east coast grid is down, meaning this situation is officially FUBAR."
"FUBAR as in, what, help is officially never coming?"
"Yeah. We officially need to consider one of those shelters or even that place in California."
"Shit," Jake said as Rhett heard the sounds of him getting out of bed. After a moment Jake spoke again. "I got nothing over here."
"How are you on supplies?"
"Weight watchers snack chip...things, and my sword. It's all I need. You?"
"I've been stretching a box of cereal the last few days. I think it's time to consider seeking help."
"Yeah, so I'll see you here?"
"Maybe. What if the Rochester shelter isn't around anymore?"
"What if the Syracuse one isn't either?"
Rhett thought about it a moment. He could tell Jake already knew what he was about to suggest, because he could tell Jake had been chomping at the bit to get out and run crazy in the apocalypse. "Reconnaissance?" Rhett suggested.
"Fuck! Yes!" Jake shouted.
"We check out each other's shelter situation and report to each other. We'll figure our next move after."
"Bout damn time!" Jake said as Rhett heard him rushing about on the other line.
"Hey, don't do anything stupid," Rhett warned.
"Don't worry, man," Jake assured "I'll save the real fun for when we meet up. Do more damage that way."
"Know where you're headed?"
"TV said something about the college nearby. You?"
"Carrier Dome."
"Aw, you're finally going to an SU game?"
"Yeah, I'm not too happy about it."
"Well try not to die. I'll be so pissed my apocalypse buddy dies on me."
"Cute. Just keep all future communications to texts. I dunno the next time I'll be able to charge my phone."
"Can we get this started already?" Jake sounded almost giddy.
"Alright. Let's check back in at sundown."
"This is gonna be awesome!"
"Try not to die."
"Stay frosty!"
Rhett rolled his eyes as he hung up. Jake was immature, but he wasn't retarded. He'd be fine. He just hoped one or bother of the shelters were still around. If not, they'd have to hook up and find a way to California on their own. Either way, Rhett felt that this whole apocalypse thing would be easier to endure once he finds Jake.
"Let's do this," Rhett said as he collected all his supplies in the basement and threw them into his backpack. He stashed most of his cash from the bar at the bottom of the bag. He figured it be useless in the apocalypse, but you never knew. He checked outside to find it just as quiet as before.
"Maybe it isn't as bad anymore," Rhett lied to himself as he opened the front door and snuck out. He opened his car door and tossed the bag into the back. Before rushing back into the house, he checked down the street to see a lone corpse in the middle of the road. Almost immediately, it looked over and saw Rhett. It moaned aloud and started making its way over.
Rhett ran back inside and grabbed the duffle bag. He ran back out and tossed it with his backpack. He checked back on the corpse to see it had made headway over, but still not enough ground to catch Rhett. Back in the house, he ran for his weapons, foolishly saved for last.
He grabbed the handgun and stuffed it behind his belt. He wanted a knife, but he felt slicing a zombie's throat would be a suicidal waste of time. Instead he grabbed a large flathead screwdriver with a yellow and black handle. It was his fathers, and like his father he had always insisted on using it for whatever project around that needed work despite the head being too large for most screws. The end of the world would prove to be a serious project.
Finally, he picked up the shotgun. Most of the ammo was in his backpack, while a handful of shells were in his pocket. He was wearing thick jeans, boots, and most of the tactical gear including gloves. He didn't want the helmet, opting more for his own Yankees hat. He had the gas mask ready, but didn't want to drive with it on, so he kept it in the case that he attached to his belt. Over everything, he wore his lucky Yankees shirt. If today was the last time he'd ever see home, he was dressed appropriately.
He ran outside with everything and looked for the zombie. It was still far off, but another one had been drawn over from the commotion. Rhett hadn't seen it before and now it was by his car. "Well fuck," Rhett said as he readied his shotgun but thought twice about it. He wasn't sure how many shells he'd need, so conserving ammo should be a priority, especially with only ten bullets in his handgun.
"Let's dance, asshole," he said as the zombie groped towards him. He ran up and shoulder checked it away. These things were slow, and Rhett figured they were no problem one on one. the zombie had tumbled onto its back, but it was immediately getting back up as Rhett hopped into his car and fired up the engine.
He backed out and drove down the street, more zombies seeming to crawling out of the woodwork at the noise. At the end of the street, he looked back to see a small crowd in pursuit. "Okay," he said as he drove away "Maybe it is as bad out here still."
"Fascinating," Jake said, completely uninterested "Can I go back to sleep now?" Jake had no longer been as interested in conversing over the last few days. Rhett figured it was fatigue of the situation finally setting in, but he also realized that Jake had no longer been mentioning Austin, and was quick to change subjects whenever Rhett inquired about the man's brother.
"Do you have power?" Rhett asked as he gave up on the box and made his way back into the house. "Is this really important?" Jake asked.
"Yes," Rhett replied "Because if it's just me, then whatever. But if you don't have power either, then the entire east coast grid is down, meaning this situation is officially FUBAR."
"FUBAR as in, what, help is officially never coming?"
"Yeah. We officially need to consider one of those shelters or even that place in California."
"Shit," Jake said as Rhett heard the sounds of him getting out of bed. After a moment Jake spoke again. "I got nothing over here."
"How are you on supplies?"
"Weight watchers snack chip...things, and my sword. It's all I need. You?"
"I've been stretching a box of cereal the last few days. I think it's time to consider seeking help."
"Yeah, so I'll see you here?"
"Maybe. What if the Rochester shelter isn't around anymore?"
"What if the Syracuse one isn't either?"
Rhett thought about it a moment. He could tell Jake already knew what he was about to suggest, because he could tell Jake had been chomping at the bit to get out and run crazy in the apocalypse. "Reconnaissance?" Rhett suggested.
"Fuck! Yes!" Jake shouted.
"We check out each other's shelter situation and report to each other. We'll figure our next move after."
"Bout damn time!" Jake said as Rhett heard him rushing about on the other line.
"Hey, don't do anything stupid," Rhett warned.
"Don't worry, man," Jake assured "I'll save the real fun for when we meet up. Do more damage that way."
"Know where you're headed?"
"TV said something about the college nearby. You?"
"Carrier Dome."
"Aw, you're finally going to an SU game?"
"Yeah, I'm not too happy about it."
"Well try not to die. I'll be so pissed my apocalypse buddy dies on me."
"Cute. Just keep all future communications to texts. I dunno the next time I'll be able to charge my phone."
"Can we get this started already?" Jake sounded almost giddy.
"Alright. Let's check back in at sundown."
"This is gonna be awesome!"
"Try not to die."
"Stay frosty!"
Rhett rolled his eyes as he hung up. Jake was immature, but he wasn't retarded. He'd be fine. He just hoped one or bother of the shelters were still around. If not, they'd have to hook up and find a way to California on their own. Either way, Rhett felt that this whole apocalypse thing would be easier to endure once he finds Jake.
"Let's do this," Rhett said as he collected all his supplies in the basement and threw them into his backpack. He stashed most of his cash from the bar at the bottom of the bag. He figured it be useless in the apocalypse, but you never knew. He checked outside to find it just as quiet as before.
"Maybe it isn't as bad anymore," Rhett lied to himself as he opened the front door and snuck out. He opened his car door and tossed the bag into the back. Before rushing back into the house, he checked down the street to see a lone corpse in the middle of the road. Almost immediately, it looked over and saw Rhett. It moaned aloud and started making its way over.
Rhett ran back inside and grabbed the duffle bag. He ran back out and tossed it with his backpack. He checked back on the corpse to see it had made headway over, but still not enough ground to catch Rhett. Back in the house, he ran for his weapons, foolishly saved for last.
He grabbed the handgun and stuffed it behind his belt. He wanted a knife, but he felt slicing a zombie's throat would be a suicidal waste of time. Instead he grabbed a large flathead screwdriver with a yellow and black handle. It was his fathers, and like his father he had always insisted on using it for whatever project around that needed work despite the head being too large for most screws. The end of the world would prove to be a serious project.
Finally, he picked up the shotgun. Most of the ammo was in his backpack, while a handful of shells were in his pocket. He was wearing thick jeans, boots, and most of the tactical gear including gloves. He didn't want the helmet, opting more for his own Yankees hat. He had the gas mask ready, but didn't want to drive with it on, so he kept it in the case that he attached to his belt. Over everything, he wore his lucky Yankees shirt. If today was the last time he'd ever see home, he was dressed appropriately.
He ran outside with everything and looked for the zombie. It was still far off, but another one had been drawn over from the commotion. Rhett hadn't seen it before and now it was by his car. "Well fuck," Rhett said as he readied his shotgun but thought twice about it. He wasn't sure how many shells he'd need, so conserving ammo should be a priority, especially with only ten bullets in his handgun.
"Let's dance, asshole," he said as the zombie groped towards him. He ran up and shoulder checked it away. These things were slow, and Rhett figured they were no problem one on one. the zombie had tumbled onto its back, but it was immediately getting back up as Rhett hopped into his car and fired up the engine.
He backed out and drove down the street, more zombies seeming to crawling out of the woodwork at the noise. At the end of the street, he looked back to see a small crowd in pursuit. "Okay," he said as he drove away "Maybe it is as bad out here still."
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