Keera [1]

2. Long ride

During these apocalyptic times, the mornings are usually quite chilly and gloomy, with dark clouds hovering above. The sun seems to be a distant memory, especially during the days leading up to winter.

It's been years in the making, but next year in Spring, six people from the EMK agency are finally embarking on a long-awaited trip to Africa. They've been looking forward to this adventure for a while now, but they're also aware that this is as far as they can travel given the current situation.

Despite their excitement, the agency is facing a few challenges. One of the biggest concerns is that they haven't found a suitable place to hire a boat for their upcoming journey. This is causing a bit of stress, as they need to secure transportation soon to ensure a safe and successful trip. Also, hulks will be a big part of the problem. Luckily, these zombies can't swim.

Tanner had a lot on his mind that night, and he couldn't manage to fall asleep. He had a meeting with Chuck scheduled for the morning, and the anticipation was keeping him up. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling of his room, he realized how dark it was without the moon's light. He felt a pang of loneliness in his chest. Though the motel wasn't that big, everyone had their room, and Tanner couldn't help but feel isolated in his own space.

~

A great iron and wooden fence stood tall, encircling the area that lay beyond it - the city of Macon. It was the main exit from the EMK base and the only way out for anyone who entered through it. The rain had created deep puddles all around, and the big, thick boots strode confidently through the mud. The boots moved with ease as if they were made for this kind of weather. Everyone was jealous of Tanner's big boots.

Leader Chuck, who was leaning against an old scratched car, holding on to the fence that was slowly bending. There was no wind, but Tanner's thick hair moved to the right every moment.

Tanner, with an air of resignation, fished out the last pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. As he made his way through the rain-soaked concrete, the droplets splattered all around him, creating small puddles. He didn't say a word to his boss, but rather, held out the crumpled box with a scratched hand, offering it to him with a silent gesture.

Chuck, his leader, looked at him with a hint of happiness and then patted him on the shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort. "Good job," He started "Probably last pack I'll ever smoke."

With a sad smile on his face, Chuck took out two cigarettes, giving Tanner one and keeping the other for himself. He put the pack in his pocket and said. "Let's save this for when we get to Africa when our lives are in the doldrums. We'll sit somewhere in peace and smoke together, laughing at the moments from the motel."

Tanner was feeling quite downhearted because everyone who was part of the group had a strong affection for the motel, regardless of their differences and the things they experienced in there. He didn't have much to say when he was speaking to his leader, and simply replied with a respectful "Yes sir."

As they were conversing, Chuck took out a lighter which seemed to be quite old and worn out from years of use. He then proceeded to suggest that Tanner address him by his first name instead of using "Sir".

"Don't call me "Sir", just Chuck." Chuck's request was made in a friendly manner, but it still took Tanner by surprise.

"Yes, Chuck." They both chuckled as they inhaled tobacco.

Old Chuck and his companion were smoking tobacco, but the smoke was so acrid that it made Chuck cough deeply.

Despite the harsh smoke, both men seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, relishing every moment of their indulgence. As the minutes ticked by, they continued to smoke, until the end of the third minute when they both finished at the same time. Suddenly, cigarettes were thrown onto the wet floor where the butts quietly went out, leaving behind a faint.