Hope On The Rocks/Issue 12

This is Issue 12 of Hope On The Rocks, entitled "Rogersville, Pennsylvania".

204; Rogersville, Pennsylvania
Woman were never the problem for me. Not at all, actually. I counted nine girlfriends one year. I were with my last girlfriend for two years, though. Man, I loved her.

After her death, I broke down. I began drinking. Then I slept for, apparently two or three days, and woke up in the middle of an apocalypse. It sounds like a movie, but here I am, in the middle of a freaking zombie apocalypse.

Along with Miles, Chad, Odin and the two new people, Ridley and Esther, I am walking at the higway, looking for a refugee camp.

You see, Texas and I talked with this dude, Gavin, who claimed to be in a refugee camp outside Waynesburg. We got no coordinates or anything, so now it’s just about looking.

“So you’re muslim, brother?” I hear a scottish man saying from behind me. Ridley is scottish, which is pretty cool. I’ve never had a british friend. I once knew a german guy, but never british.

“Uh...” I look back, slowing down, so I now walk next to him. “I kinda used to, but y’know, it just doesn’t seems like there’s anyone for me up there.”

Ridley smiles and manages a silent laugh. “I follow ya.”

“How ‘bout you?” I ask. I know that Chad doesn’t trust Ridley and Esther, but they seem friendly enough to me. “You were christian or something?”

Ridley itches his beard, which makes me realize that I’ve gotten beard during the last two-three weeks. Now anything like Ridley, but still enough for me to realize.

“I’m christian. I still am, and I will always be.” Ridley says with a big smile.

“Really?” I say, looking at Ridley. “So all this... the zombies and all... you’re fine with that?”

Ridley, somehow, keeps his smile. He has been smiling the whole time, I have no idea how he does it.

“Not fine with it, but I do think God has a plan for us. I think he’s cleaning up the mess he made.” Ridley says, and looks around. I do so too.

At the highway, there’s abandoned cars in the side going out of Waynesburg. The side going into, is totally empty. A few wrecks and such, but no actual working cars. Weirdly enough, there’s no zombies either.

“Like a Noah’s Arc Two?” I say, jokingly.

Ridley laughs shortly, and says: “You got it, brother.”

“Hide!” Chad suddenly cries out.

I look behind us, seeing a car coming towards us. I run towards the abandoned cars, and hide behind one of them. I only have my 9mm pistol. I gave Ridley the shotgun, because I’m no good with it.

The car stops, a few meters from where I’m hiding. Next to me is Miles kneeling, shotgun ready.

Out of the car, a friendly-looking man with blonde-brown hair and glasses walks out. He looks around for a few seconds, before taking out an old bolt-action rifle.

“Hello?” The man says loud enough for us to hear it. “I know you’re there. I don’t want any trouble.”

It takes about ten seconds, before Chad gets up. The rest of us follow. We are all aiming our weapon at the man, who probably is around 30 or something.

“Lay down your weapon!” Chad orders.

The man raises his hands, and calmy places the rifle on the front of his grey minivan.

“I’m not looking for trouble. Just heading home.” The man says, smiling. It is obvius he’s nervous.

“Where’s home?” Chad asks.

“Rogersville. We’re quite a group.” The man says and lowers his arms. “I’m William Seck. Who are you guys?”

Chad looks around, lowering his gun. He probably realized that this man isn’t dangerous, but quite friendly.

“I’m Chad.” Chad says. “The others here are Miles, Odin, Al, Ridley and Esther.”

“Nice to meet you all.” The man, William, says with a big smile. “You want a ride?”

Chad looks wondering at William. “Sorry?”

“Want a ride? Your chances for surviving are bigger in a big group, than in a small one.” William keeps his smile.

Chad is the leader of this group, so he makes the decision. Personally, I’d go.

Chad doesn’t think much about it. He nods after a few seconds. “Let’s go look at it.”

The entrance to the small town is a sign saying ‘Welcome to Rogersville’. As we get into the town, we see people waving, happy to see new survivors. I smile. This is amazing.

We stop, and I follow the others out of the van. We meet up in front of the van, William looking over the town; a dozen houses can be seen from this parking lot we’re at. I see some people drinking a cup of coffee at the coffee-shop at the other side of the street. I see people laughing, having a good time.

“Welcome,” William says. “to Rogersville. Population, 102.”