Shepherd sat in the driving seat for a long time. The empty bottle, now between his feet, looked up at him from the pale light of the overhead lamps. Its label was red and written in Russian letters but the words were in English.
PUSHKIN VODKA
EST. 1977
MADE IN THE NEW SOVIET UNION
He stared at them for a long time before he looked up again. Then, wiping away some of the condensation from the windscreen, he stared out into the darkness that had now smothered his rig.
"We're here," said Nat but not from inside the truck. She was outside now, just beyond the shadows that lurked up ahead. "Supper will be ready soon."
"Just a minute," he mumbled. His stomach churned and the world spun around him a couple of times.
"I've missed you."
YOU ARE READING
Shepherd
Science FictionAmerica has fallen. Amidst the chaos of a nation that is tearing itself apart only one hope remains. A convoy of weapons must make its way north into Canada and Shepherd, a man on the edge already seems like the last person to volunteer. Except he...
