Reminiscence.

I'm writing this to You, in the the event that you manage to find this note intact, and found everything to be extremely helpful. As a pharmacist, I find it my moral duty to share these things with You....even when it seems that the entire world has gone mad. I don't know more about this than You do, but maybe we'll see each other when all of this is over.

Pharmacist or not, I thought, you gotta be batshit insane to take the time to put together aide kits while you oughta be runnin' for dear life.

It was probably....fuck, I dunno. I've been on the road for so long now that I don't even know when the madness began. I can't even remember what I was doin' when it all started. Or, when it finally got to my end of the map. All of this coulda started days before it finally spread to the east. Hell, it mighta started here and now it's spreadin' to the west..

Anyways, I don't have time to be thinkin' about those things.

I spent the last few nights in a tree that was good for climbin', and as it turned out, sleepin' too. I'd parked my motorcycle right next to it. I was pretty sure no one was around here, and even if they were, they prob'ly weren't alive. When I came down one mornin', I found this little box on the seat. Had some bandage wraps, a little bottle of peroxide, a few pills, and that note in it. The handwritin' was a little sloppy...not sure if they were in a rush, or if that's their normal style. Guess they figured that since things are a little crazy, they can just take all they need, 'specially since they worked in a pharmacy. That's the kinda place I'd go pick through first. Well maybe I'd go and get me a handgun first...if I didn't already have one.

Anyways, that person can't be too far.

As for personal belongings, I got the motorcycle, that box and note, a couple o' pocket knives, some bread and chips, the gun, and a bit o' ammo. The clothes on my back. Some money too, but that's only good if you find someone who's still tryin' to make 'em some in all this mess. And that's not likely.

Right now, I prob'ly had to shoot three or four o' those things, not sure how many I just passed on by while ridin' this bike. Not sure if I actually killed 'em or just slowed em' down a bit. Not sure if I really wanna know that answer.

A little while later the tree decided I'd worn out my welcome, and I felt the same way. I pat the bark and wished the tree well before I set off. Not sure how long I was on the road, but it wasn't before long I found myself runnin' into trouble. I passed a couple o' houses, noticed some o' them little boxes set on the porches. Either those folks are long gone or too scared to even open the damn door. o' course, I felt obligated to make sure nothing goes to waste, and took the boxes. Each one had a note, a little different than the last, but pretty much said the same thing. It gave me a strange feelin' to know they'd made it all the way out here...the strange kinda feelin' when you are glad and worried at the same time. Glad 'cos there might be someone else to talk to besides that tree, but worried that I'd stop seein' them boxes and I'd never get to thank 'em for puttin' 'em there. That strange feelin' was quickly replaced with a tense one 'cos just a little ways up I noticed someone or somethin' slowly walkin' towards one o' them houses. I slowed down real quick so I wouldn't scare whatever it was, but I didn't get off in case I needed to get away real fast. As I got closer, I could tell for sure that it was human. They had their back towards me, but I noticed a long, dark ponytail, and a strap goin' across the shoulders. I could tell then that it was a girl. She started to dig through her bag, then pulled out one o' them boxes like mine, and set it on the porch. She started to walk away when somethin' from behind the house move and I caught sight o' it. She didn't hear til it was almost too late, but I'd already pulled out my gun and shot the damn thing before it got her. It fell to the ground and twitched but I didn't wanna wait for it to decided to get back up again. I sped up to the girl, and told her to get on. She did as she was told and we sped off. We didn't say much o' anything to each other durin' the ride. Eventually I stopped and found another o' them good climbin' trees and that's where we decided to stay for the night.




"That story does sound a lot better when you pretend it's not you," a young woman's voice said. She was leaning against the bark of a tree that was good for climbing, on a branch next to the branch of a young man that drove a motorcycle.

"Yep."