NOTE: Most of this is unedited, so I apologize for any mistakes. And, there's still a lot more, and I'll keep writing it if you guys keep liking it =]
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It was very strange to get exhausted so quickly. Biking, at least, let me use my legs, instead of my atrophied arms. After a couple of hours, my legs felt like they were being torn in every direction, and each breath seemed to set internal fire to my lungs. Pushing myself any farther would only result in an even worse physical condition, so, I stopped along the line of cars – which had not ceased one bit.
I gingerly set the bike down on the ground aside the highway, staggering with exhaustion towards the closest vehicle – a neutral-looking pseudo-gold colored minivan. I groped for the side door’s handle, opening it up without hesitation when my hand finally grabbed it. The battery still worked, apparently, as the lights turned on inside. I fell across the seat, more or less involuntarily. Still panting wildly, I forced myself upward to close the door of the vehicle.
In time, the fire in my lungs resided, and my legs stopped feeling like putty. I remounted the bicycle, retied my sweatshirt, and continued further along the road. I was staying at a slow pace to accommodate my weak physical condition. Trudging along, I noticed the license plates of the cars told me I was in Pennsylvania – I assumed this meant that guns would be easier to access than if I were further north, which I contemplated as being positive.
As I continued on, I forced myself to become mindless. I did nothing but bike – I barely even thought. Heck, thinking might’ve discouraged me more, as I hadn’t encountered any real buildings or businesses yet. One or two that were half-destroyed, and would not make a suitable temporary home. No, I wanted something intact – preferably with a lock or barricade.
Finding a structure with these desirable characteristics proved less than easy; I had biked an additional four hours without seeing anything I thought safe enough to stay in. The billboards were nearly unreadable as I went along; I could make out some bright colors and symbols in a few, but the only one I’d understood so far was for a McDonald’s restaurant. Much to my luck, however, I saw a legible sign noting an EconoLodge off the next exit.
My plan, now, was to find a livable room in it and fortify the entrance. I still had at least a few hours of daylight, I estimated, and there was an abundance of trees near this area – which I could try to cut and use to secure the hotel room, if I had to. Having a solid goal was good – something to work towards, rather than just biking along the endless highway.
Turning off and towards the extremely tiny cluster of buildings, I noted the dull ‘EconoLodge’ sign standing tall above the rest. Beside it, I could see a convenient store, and an auto service shop. This mini-city appeared to contain everything the passing driver would need to sustain themselves – or the afterworld drifter.
Strolling along to the front of the hotel, it appeared only to be run-down, but not destroyed. It was weathered and faded, but everything was there. To my luck, I could see at least a couple of rooms that were open, one on ground-level and one on the second story. I decided adding some height between me and whatever potential ghoulies frequented the night was the best option, so I set my bike at the foot of the concrete stairwell and silently climbed upward.
I crouched, walking with all the grace of a cat towards the open door. I didn’t know what to expect – it might be infected with zombies or something, right? Pushing the thoughts of these evil creatures from my mind, I waited aside the doorway. I silently held my breath, and turned in the doorway, rushing in and looking around. My attempts to prepare for an enemy inside were unnecessary – it was deserted. In fact, the beds were still made. Now, the only way this scenario could get better was if the TV worked. I approached it, and pressed the ‘POWER’-marked button, crossing my fingers in hopes of success – alas, no such luck. However, luxuries such as electricity were not my biggest concern. I could fortify this place and make it a home, the first step being to secure the door. Luckily, the windows were protected by heavy iron bars, and the door had the two standard locks.
I decided I was going to go search the surrounding buildings for supplies. Luckily, they were all very close to each other, so I wasn’t going to get lost or anything. Before setting off via bicycle, I unloaded the food and medical supplies I had acquired. I made way towards the convenient store, first. I didn’t even bother looking at the gas pumps – I knew they’d be empty. I did, however, note that gas was $8.56 a gallon, which seemed outrageous. I didn’t recall what price was ‘normal’, but that seemed odd in any case.
The entire front of the shop was clear glass, and it looked unoccupied. Still not trusting of the security of it, I quietly walked in, perusing the aisles, searching for a non-existent foe. However, there was nothing, so I proceeded to look over their inventory. All the non-perishable food would be great while it lasted, but the main thing I was drawn to was the small selection of ammunition at the end of an aisle. They only had major chamberings -- .30-30, .30-06, .308, .223, 9x19, .38 Special, .45 ACP, and a few kinds of 12 and 20 gauge ammo. And, of each kind, there were only about four or five boxes.
I didn’t care; if I did find a gun later, it’d be useless without ammo, so I promptly plucked a couple of plastic bags and gathered the boxes into them. I thanked that I was in a state where hunting was prominent for this situation – because they also had another aisle with other common sporting items. Of these, I took some rope meant for dragging deer, a folded tarp, and all the knives they had. Probably crappy Chinese junk, but hey, a weapon and tool all in one.
After that, I had to get another bag, which I stuffed with the less-unhealthy foods; beef jerky, pretzels, and energy bars. Unfortunately, the only fruit in the business was rotting on the counter in front, flies buzzing to and fro around it. Moving on, I filled a fourth bag with two gallon-jugs of water, and decided that was enough for one run. Besides, the four filled bags were a lot for my weak arms to carry at this point.
I exited, and set the small tarp down behind my bike. I tied the four bags I’d filled shut, and placed them on the blue, crinkly surface. I looped the rope through the holes in the four corners, and tied them around the bar that held the bike’s seat up. This folded the tarp over to keep the bags in place while I dragged them on the bike – which worked surprisingly successfully.
Moving onto the auto parts store, I noted with surprise and delight that they also carried tools and associated products. Flicking the kickstand on the bike out, I entered. When I returned from the bleak, unlit building, I had an armload of power tool batteries, an electric drill, and a large sliding metal bar that I intended to install on the door of the hotel room as a security measure. With this satisfactory load of supplies, I headed back to the EconoLodge as the sun started descending in the sky – by my estimate, it must’ve been at least 4 o’clock.
I entered triumphantly with these newly-prized possessions, and strained to carry all of them up to the room. I removed one of the fixed-blade knives from its package, and stuck it and its sheath in my pocket, which gave me a little more secure feeling. Everything else I simply set on the floor, except for the crossbar – That, I immediately drilled into the wall next to the door. It would slide forward to keep it shut tonight, which I found sufficient; after all, it was a wide, thick piece of steel. I wasn’t worried about it breaking or bending.
Next, I gathered the bike, with rope and tarp intact, bringing it into the room. With everything inside my new safe haven, I had a new sense of being – I had a place that was mine, now. I peeled off the two outer shirts, and then my jeans; I was going to enjoy the sleep ahead of me. I approached the door to the room, locking the knob, the chain lock, and the bar that I’d installed myself. Just to be sure, I tried to open the door – my security measures seemed sturdy. With that in mind, I flopped over onto the bed, and feel asleep before I had a chance to ponder the situation at hand; in the future, I’d find exhaustion a great aid in avoiding the absurdity of my environment, and the uncertainty of my future.
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I awoke to a loud pounding on the door – and I mean LOUD. The locks and crossbar I’d installed shook violently under the weight of whoever was beating against the door. I stood up, heart racing with fear and anticipation.
“Who are you!?” I called out, with no answer returned; only more pounding. I took a step back, because I doubted I could do anything but wait for them to leave. Much to my horror, however, all the restraints gave way, and door tumbled over. Backlit by the twilight, an indistinguishable dark figure angrily came my way. The only feature I made out were his terrifyingly long, sharpened claw-like projections off of his hands. I cowered back without looking, hitting the wall behind me. The thing lunged at me, a smear of shadows rocketing at me, trying to kill me. I put my arms in front of my face and screamed.
However, I realized I was sitting in my bed, shouting. It was a dream. A terrible, horrifying dream. Breathing heavily, and now stained with sweat, I could hear birds chirping outside the window; it gave a heavy feeling of surrealism, much too peaceful in accordance with the terrifying nightmare. I lingered for a few minutes in the bed, now, reflecting on my situation.
For the first time, I deeply thought about all the possible scenarios to explain what was happening to me. A nuke? Natural disaster? Heck, maybe even a comet. It could’ve been a plague of some sort, but that seemed unlikely – I’d probably already be infected. Whatever it was, I couldn’t come up with an explanation for not seeing another person. There weren’t even bodies, or blood, or anything. Aliens, flying over in space ships, abducting people with tractor beams? None of the choices computed.
I now had a strong desire to find out what was going on. The hotel had to have records – that would be my first stop, I decided, simultaneously dressing in the same clothing as before.
I stuffed the sheathed Buck knife in my pants pocket as I set off to investigate the hotel’s office. The walk was no more than fifty yards, which my tired legs begrudgingly limped across at a slow pace. I took out the blade, its steel construction glimmering in the morning light as I stepped inside. The interior wasn’t as bad as the lobby at the hospital had been; it was obviously unkempt, but it attained no structural damage throughout whatever event caused this desolation.
It was plain, drab, and industrial-looking, but it was fortunately not damaged – it could serve as another functional room for me at that point. This must’ve been a pretty harsh little tourist trap, because the office area was enclosed with either plexi- or bulletproof-glass, neither of which I could break easily. To enter, I had to go past the glassed-in desk and to the left, approaching a heavy door, which fortunately was left open. I stepped inside, and started sorting through the surprisingly well-kept records. I immediately snatched up the latest one, and opened the tan folder. The last resident was scribbled in as ‘James Fulton’, who apparently stayed in room 101 on the date of December 21st, 2012.
Much to my surprise, that was the very date I’d been marked as going into a coma on. I noted this as a strange coincidence, which worried me significantly. However, there was little left of interest in the office – only a moldy cup of what once was coffee, and a phone that had long been dead. I paused, and picked up a notebook which was on the desk, with a pencil stuck into the metal wire that bound it. Perusing through it, I found nothing more than doodles and some phone numbers. I decided to take it for future use.
I sat down in the spinning officer chair, and contemplated how to spend my time today. Surely I should investigate the other rooms of the hotel, and gather any other supplies I needed, but other things seemed just as necessary. In example, I needed a sustainable food source. There was plenty of packaged junk at the convenient store, but even that substantial supply would dwindle quickly. I needed to go back and see if they had any seeds; in fact, there was a fixture in the parking lot which had overgrown grass in it, which I could use as a garden.
Further thinking outward about an extended food source, I decided I should try to find any animal that could be bred or eaten. Hunting quickly came to mind, and then trapping – surely there were small animals about the hotel and nearby wooded area that were edible. I immediately decided today’s focus would be on starting the garden, because I didn’t have any weapons suitable for hunting game.
I made my way via bike back to the gas station, and poked around, until I found a small selection of pre-packaged seeds. Unfortunately, most of them were flowers, but they did have turnip, radish, and tomato seeds. Not ideal, but they’d certainly sustain me, and maybe even be producing fruit before I ran out of Twinkies and Mountain Dew. I pocketed the supply of seeds, and filled the pockets of my shirt and pants with more jerky and bottled water, before heading back.
Planting them took most of the rest of the day. My arms ached from the labor, but as the sky turned orange and Sun started to descend, I had the makings of a garden started, in the parking lot right by the hotel room I’d decided to make my living space.
