Far From Home || Holly & Benjamin
Holly's stomach had been about ready to burst with excitement when she had heard the rumble of several engines rush past her. She had run out of the supermarket she was staying at, eager to get a glimpse of the people she was supposed to meet. Her brother had told her where she was supposed to stay and when the convoy was going to drive past her location on her way to the high school. He had not, however, told her about that blanket-like fog that was covering the ground as far as she could see. Which in any case, wasn't much. The dense white mass surrounded her from every direction, preventing her from seeing much more than a few feet in front of her at any time.
It had been three or four days since she had heard the first car speed past her on their way to the high school. She was taking her sweet time getting everything ready. The small garden she had grown out back had been cut down and flattened just in case. She had a small bag of green beans, a couple of beets, more carrots than she could count, one cucumber she was saving for its seeds, a few heads of lettuce and some radishes. All in all, a decent amount of food for only having stayed a couple of weeks in fairly dangerous territory.
Holly packed it all into the bed of her truck before covering it with a tarp along with her sleeping bag and the small backpack filled with clothes she had hauling along since she had left home. She was set. Her head turned in the direction of the highway. She had looked at the map so may times she knew exactly where she needed to turn, and how the road leading up to the school twisted and turned. There was nothing keeping her here anymore. It was now or never. The fireworks she had seen gone off the night before were sure to attract the dead. The group had to be moving soon if they were smart.
She climbed into her rust old family truck, petting the dashboard affectionately, praying that it would at least roar to life this one last time. The 1974 Ford F-100 sputtered on, groaning for a few moments before settling into a bumpy but constant grumble. Holly had eliminated her habit of looking into the rear view mirror since she had left home, so as soon as the red-brown truck was alive, she stepped on the accelerator and pulled onto the turnpike.
Holly was completely numb as she drove down the road, humming a familiar tune as she tried to keep her mind off of what was next. She was excited to be reunited with humanity, sure, but on the other hand, she knew next to nothing about these people. With their numbers, they could kill her before she could even say 'Hello'. Nevertheless, she had made it this far. She couldn't go home. She would go crazy if she continued on her own. Before she knew it, she was slowing down to a park. The load rumble of her truck's old engine must have alerted the people inside to her presence, so she steps out of the rusty vehicle and waits, occasionally eying the hunting rifle in the passenger seat in case something went wrong.