900 Miles (Book 2): 900 Minutes by S. Johnathan Davis Page A
Authors: S. Johnathan Davis
Tags: Zombies
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t be long before that phlegm-filled cough crept into Tyle r’ s young lungs, and I would n’ t be there to make it better.
Pushing the pedal to the floor mat, listening to the Humme r’ s engine roar to life, I could n’ t help but think ahead to our destination. Rodgers had better be right about it. H e’ d better be sure that what we needed was there.
My so n’ s life depended on it.
Chapter 7
Seems like there really are n’ t an y“ goo d” sides anymore.
Prior to the Apocalypse, White Sulfur Springs was a fairly small town with a population of just over two thousand residents. Not rich, but far from poor, this quaint little area nestled near the border of West Virginia, and Virginia was what we now directionally called home. With Avalon resting on the edge of town, w e’ d spent a fair amount of time in those first months scavenging through its limited stores and going door-to-door to raid the houses and trailers that filled the landscape. I got to know the area pretty well, and aside from the Zs, I found myself thinking it would have been a nice enough place to raise Tyler.
However, we soon found that w e’ d need to expand beyond our immediate area if we were going to truly bulk up on supplies, food, and medicine. The nearby town of Lewisburg wound up being far more fruitful. Not as small and quaint, but still manageable, it was home to the Greenbriar Valley Medical Center, which sadly, had long since been looted by the time our team got there all those months ago. This, too, was a nice enough town, and luckily we did find plenty of supplies in and around its boundaries.
The good news was that during all those initial runs, w e’ d found a decent supply of medicine. The bad news, it all went up in smoke during the fire.
In more recent months, w e’ d extended our scavenging runs to the closest major city, Roanoke, Virginia, at just eighty-one miles away. Roanoke was a sizable metropolitan area with a large population that nearly topped one hundred thousand people before the end of the world.
It was Roanoke that first taught us that any sort of major city not completely destroyed in those initial weeks had turned out to be a hotbed for the dead. For some reason, the creatures simply stayed put, lumbering around the streets, buildings, and stores. Maybe trying to go on like they did, with some sort of primal need to consume, or maybe they just lacked in the mental ability to find their way out. Either way, we learned to avoid those high-rise tombs.
That left us with very few options in terms of scavenging in those days. Our best bets were on hitting other small towns, or at least the outlying homes of small towns. The problem was that w e’ d found ourselves having to go further and further away from White Sulfur Springs, making each run that much more dangerous. With seven months since things stopped being made, manufactured, and processe d… well, le t’ s just say it was slim pickings out there.
Perhaps tha t’ s why we were so open to the idea, the thought of medical supplies still being available in that so-called Safe Zone. These designated safety areas that the government set up for people to seek refuge in during the initial weeks of the outbreak had proven to be filled with supplies in past runs. Seemed that those places were overly outfitted to help fight whatever emergency they could think o f… aside from the dead suddenly rising, of course. The ones w e’ d found in the past would often be untouched by the outside world. Mostly because they would still be filled to the brim with Zs, those undead watchdogs, keeping any precious supplies safe within the walls.
Sure, w e’ d still have to cut through the Zs that would be roaming around inside, but these days that seemed to come with the territory. With our preparations, we had the right men and enough ammunition to bust throug h… at least we thought.
I’ m not saying we believed it would be easy, but
Pushing the pedal to the floor mat, listening to the Humme r’ s engine roar to life, I could n’ t help but think ahead to our destination. Rodgers had better be right about it. H e’ d better be sure that what we needed was there.
My so n’ s life depended on it.
Chapter 7
Seems like there really are n’ t an y“ goo d” sides anymore.
Prior to the Apocalypse, White Sulfur Springs was a fairly small town with a population of just over two thousand residents. Not rich, but far from poor, this quaint little area nestled near the border of West Virginia, and Virginia was what we now directionally called home. With Avalon resting on the edge of town, w e’ d spent a fair amount of time in those first months scavenging through its limited stores and going door-to-door to raid the houses and trailers that filled the landscape. I got to know the area pretty well, and aside from the Zs, I found myself thinking it would have been a nice enough place to raise Tyler.
However, we soon found that w e’ d need to expand beyond our immediate area if we were going to truly bulk up on supplies, food, and medicine. The nearby town of Lewisburg wound up being far more fruitful. Not as small and quaint, but still manageable, it was home to the Greenbriar Valley Medical Center, which sadly, had long since been looted by the time our team got there all those months ago. This, too, was a nice enough town, and luckily we did find plenty of supplies in and around its boundaries.
The good news was that during all those initial runs, w e’ d found a decent supply of medicine. The bad news, it all went up in smoke during the fire.
In more recent months, w e’ d extended our scavenging runs to the closest major city, Roanoke, Virginia, at just eighty-one miles away. Roanoke was a sizable metropolitan area with a large population that nearly topped one hundred thousand people before the end of the world.
It was Roanoke that first taught us that any sort of major city not completely destroyed in those initial weeks had turned out to be a hotbed for the dead. For some reason, the creatures simply stayed put, lumbering around the streets, buildings, and stores. Maybe trying to go on like they did, with some sort of primal need to consume, or maybe they just lacked in the mental ability to find their way out. Either way, we learned to avoid those high-rise tombs.
That left us with very few options in terms of scavenging in those days. Our best bets were on hitting other small towns, or at least the outlying homes of small towns. The problem was that w e’ d found ourselves having to go further and further away from White Sulfur Springs, making each run that much more dangerous. With seven months since things stopped being made, manufactured, and processe d… well, le t’ s just say it was slim pickings out there.
Perhaps tha t’ s why we were so open to the idea, the thought of medical supplies still being available in that so-called Safe Zone. These designated safety areas that the government set up for people to seek refuge in during the initial weeks of the outbreak had proven to be filled with supplies in past runs. Seemed that those places were overly outfitted to help fight whatever emergency they could think o f… aside from the dead suddenly rising, of course. The ones w e’ d found in the past would often be untouched by the outside world. Mostly because they would still be filled to the brim with Zs, those undead watchdogs, keeping any precious supplies safe within the walls.
Sure, w e’ d still have to cut through the Zs that would be roaming around inside, but these days that seemed to come with the territory. With our preparations, we had the right men and enough ammunition to bust throug h… at least we thought.
I’ m not saying we believed it would be easy, but
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