Caravan: The Long Highway

Chapter 1: Camp Petersburg

I awoke to the sound of what any normal person could only identify as a man in pure agony screaming for his life. But to everyone in Camp Petersburg, this was just our wake-up call everyday. The same guy in his very late ages would always be yelling at us to get our breakfast and get ready for some grueling labor. You know, digging trenches and assembling guns. Everyone here's day to day job, of course.

I couldn't say whether it's a fair deal to offer food, barely any money, and a bed for this backbreaking work, but I know that about everyone in my tent wants to get out of here. The problem is, you have to use your own money to buy the basic stuff to get out, like a stockpile of food, a sleeping bag, all that stuff. Considering I did odd jobs on the internet all my life and took payment through credit, I really have no choice but to work for 2 dollars a day until I have enough cash to get on the road.

I've made a few friends in Camp Petersburg, one being Karice. She was also in a similar predicament as I, completely out of money upon arrival. But it seems we've saving our money the same way, so if we can get just 2 more days worth of payment we'll have enough supplies to make it down to South Carolina, where the word is that there's a lot left to scavenge. Of course, we're trying to keep the news from spreading too far or else by the time we're there everything will be gone. Karice and I, we've mutually agreed to stick together. These days, strength is in numbers.

It's been 6 or so weeks since the West Coast was invaded by North Korea. There was a solar flare the day it happened, when they nuked California. Then, they moved in through Washington. Reportedly the President is still alive but I only get my news from the radio at camp or word of mouth. On that subject, there are apparently a few other camps in Virginia, but they haven't really set up anything outside of it, and I have an idea why. They call themselves the Silver League of Patriots. They're a couple military guys with enough guns to make sure people do as they command. With a name like Silver League of Patriots, it's no questioning why they picked Virginia, one of the most important places in the States.

I mean, the safety to just get all your supplies without being killed is better than just sitting out in a practical apocalypse. Everyone thinks it's over, and there are already some psychos thinking they have to murder and loot to survive. Fortunately, we haven't seen any of our little invaders this far east yet, but from what I've overheard, the Silver League wants to spread out more before we do see them. I guess that's why we have all this hard work, so they can go supply other camps. I still don't think I trust these guys though. I've heard that they've been giving all the Asian-Americans a hard time around here. You don't go a day in Camp Petersburg without hearing some off-hand comment about "chinks." And I'm not a praying man, but the fact that we're all expected to pledge allegiance to God everyday also seems to infringe on our rights a little. At least I won't be here for much longer.

The workday was usual, loading a few magazines and placing some sandbags around the trenches. Some poor bastard Larry got chewed out by a Sergeant for making a single sandbag fall. We all just looked the other way, because this guy hates being stared at even more than someone making a mistake. I heard that he lost 25 cents off his pay for that. We had a pretty nice dinner though, one of the workers was out scavenging, and he managed to shoot 2 deer, so that's what we had tonight. Now that that day is over, tomorrow I should get enough cash to finally get the hell out of here with Karice. 

That is, if we don't have any freak disaster.