Free Final Dawn: Season 1 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) by Mike Kraus Page A

pickup truck was obvious, showing the upkeep and care that had gone into maintaining it. Nancy went to the front of the barn and undid the latch there, as well, then slid it open so that she could see the vehicle more clearly.
     
    The sides of the truck said “F-250” with a large “DIESEL” label underneath. It was an old truck for sure, but it looked like it was in mint condition. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on it, the body was in perfect condition and each of the four tires was fully aired and had chrome that was polished to within an inch of its life.
     
    Nancy didn’t particularly enjoy trucks, but seeing any kind of vehicle, especially one that looked to be in perfect working order, was a dream come true. Nancy went to the driver’s side door and tugged on the handle, bracing herself for the disappointment of it being locked. It wasn’t locked, though, and she nearly squealed in delight. She climbed up into the seat and pushed on the steering wheel, honking the horn loudly several times, trying to attract the attention of anyone in the area.
     
    Nancy wasn’t the type to just walk into a house, eat someone’s food and then take their car, but she felt like she had done all she could to find the people who lived here. That, combined with the events that led to the crash (she still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened), and the strange encounter that morning in the barn had left her feeling disoriented and uneasy. She wanted nothing more than to get out of there and make her way to the closest town.
     
    She lay on the horn one last time for a full thirty seconds and waited another ten minutes, but still, no one showed up. Nancy reached for the front dash, instinctively searching for the start button that she was used to in modern cars. A few seconds of pushing on the dashboard later, she laughed to herself and reached for the ignition instead, grasping at air as she realized the keys weren’t there.
     
    If I had a mint condition pickup in my barn, where would I hide the keys? She jumped back out of the truck and went back inside the house, searching slower and more carefully this time. After a few moments, she spotted it: a key rack hanging on the inside of a coat closet near the front door. In the middle of the key rack hung a pair of ancient-looking keys that could only be for the truck. Nancy snatched the keys, ran back to the barn and got back into the truck. With a deep breath, she inserted one of the keys into the switch and turned it.

8:12 PM, March 29, 2038
    Marcus Warden
     
    By the time the sun was low on the horizon, Marcus was exhausted. It had taken him all day, but he was finally near the foot of the Appalachian mountain range, well inside the Virginia state border. The day had passed uneventfully after the sighting earlier in the day, though he had made sure to stay well away from the area where he had spotted the man-creature running. He no longer bothered to check houses or shops for people when he passed them, opting for a quick knock on the front door of houses along his way before continuing on. The lack of people was growing more troubling, especially when combined with the sighting. He was in an extremely rural area now, far away from major cities where he expected to at least find a farmer, retiree or recluse of some kind. He had encountered plenty of farm animals, cats, dogs and other fauna, but there was still no sight of any people in the area.
     
    Choosing an area near the edge of the forest that marked the true start of the mountain climb ahead of him, Marcus dropped his backpack on the ground, rolling his shoulders. He decided to make camp at the base of the mountains for the night and then begin his hike along an old service road that was marked on his map in the morning. This service road, assuming it was still passable, would take him straight across the mountains, dumping him out close to a road that led into the next largest city over, Charlottesville.
     
    Marcus