Chapter Twelve: Charlie

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It wasn't long before carrying a huge pack of looted goods made my back ache. That, and the odd position I was riding the bike in to ensure Mojo was securely on.

Fortunately, I knew a spot that I could temporarily stash the stuff and feel, with any luck, at least a little safe. It was farther from the city, out in a wooded area. It was acres of private property where the family of a friend of a friend of a friend allowed me to hunt some years ago. As I recalled, the area was fairly remote, had a stream running prominently through it, and wasn't close to any large towns, although there were a few nearby houses. The middle of nowhere.

Long term, I sure didn't want to spend the rest of my life hanging out at a primitive campsite with Mojo. I was formulating a not-very-concrete plan that involved Mojo and me driving to another remote location. That one was in Virginia, near the North Carolina border. In fact, it might be that it was in North Carolina, near the Virginia border. I had a good buddy from school who moved there. I'd visited him every couple of years or so. The house was in an unincorporated town. I figured that meant that there wouldn't be a whole lot of undead wandering around and that I could handle the few undead that were wandering around.

Right now, I was just focused on getting completely away from the city and off the interstate. The interstate was still fairly free of heavy traffic and realizing this meant most people hadn't made it out of town tugged at my heart.

I left the interstate and exited onto a secondary highway where there were no cars at all. I drove on that for a while until we came up on the area where I'd been hunting before. I slowed the bike down and then took it off the highway so it wouldn't be seen. Mojo hopped off before I did, since the ride had gotten too bumpy for him and I was going so slow. I stashed the bike in a clump of bushes and snapped my fingers softly to Mojo who bounded behind me as we set off into the woods. Getting the heavy pack off my middle aged back was priority number one.

We trudged deep into the woods until we reached an area near a stream with some flat ground. I took the duffel bag off my back and slung it down with relief. I sat down with my back against a tree and noticed one of my hands was shaking. Typical. I get a case of nerves after I've escaped from the zombie apocalypse. Mojo lay against my leg and immediately fell into a heavy sleep. I envied him his ability to just conk out like that. Sleep was probably going to be elusive for me that night.

I fished my cell phone from my pocket, relieved to see the thing still had some charge left. I wasn't sure how great my reception was going to be, and was surprised to find it wasn't too bad. There must have been a cell tower somewhere nearby. I scrolled through my contact list to find the name of my Army buddy. More than anything, I was desperate to find out more about what was going on. I was a nightly news junkie and I always read the paper. I listened to network news. I had CNN on my phone. CNN's website was already down, which was kind of disturbing. Maybe it was just overloaded with traffic?

If there wasn't any official news available, I was willing to get my news straight from a reliable source. I dialed Steve and prayed he'd answer. I thought I might go crazy not knowing the big picture of the epidemic.

I felt a wave of relief when Steve picked right up. "Charlie?" he asked with some surprise. "You okay out there? You ...made it out of town?"

My stomach flipped. "Yeah, I made it to a safe place in the woods. Safe right now, anyway. Why? Is Raleigh especially bad?" I knew Raleigh was bad. I knew it when I saw how light the traffic on the interstate was.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. Good to hear your voice, man. I thought you were a goner, for sure." There was shouting in the background.

I said, "Hey, I know this isn't a good time to talk."

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