Hard Rain: Milltown

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"Signal me when you've got the gas!" Virgil told us, through his boat radio.

"What are we supposed to signal him with?" Nick asks, thinking about how we were going to get back on the boat. Which was necessary to get to New Orleans. Without Virgil, we'd be walking the next few hundred miles on foot.

"The flares are in the gun bag." Ellis said, confidently reloading his gun. There were a few weapons left at the shore, in which we loaded up and put away for safe keeping.

"What gun bag?" Coach asks, realizing the truth. Fuck.

"Fuck! Tell me we didn't forget the guns!" Coach yells, mad at all of us for forgetting such important things. I mentally kicked myself for not double checking our shit.

There was a gas station right off shore, and we made our way to it. We didn't realized it until we were seconds away, but it revealed a flashing sign saying 'no gas' with an arrow pointing to the east saying '2 miles.'

This was going to be a much longer trip than we expected. Not only that, but the fact that it started raining.

The next gas station was 2 miles down the road. But we took many detours through two neighborhoods and a playground, and a yard sale. It was a good thing there were so many landmarks, or else we couldn't find our way back to Virgil.

The walk was long, and the roads were eerily quiet. There was a ambulance left astray in the middle of the abandoned street. We gathered the left over pills, shots, and health kits. Not like anybody else was going to need them.

A couple of minutes later, we could see the signature red door of a safe room as we got closer.

"Safe house ahead!" Coach shouted, and jogged his way up the stairs. He seemed to be pretty happy, considering the situation. We were gasless, but were hoping to find some soon.

We wasted no time and began to head out the back door of the safe room.

Here goes nothing.

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