Free The Swamp by R Yates

hear anyone else awake. He considered getting up for another glass of vodka, but decided he didn’t want it to become a habit. He was able to fall asleep again.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
     
     
     
                  He rose and dressed early, long before daylight. He wanted to get out without anyone waking up. He wanted to avoid any tearful goodbyes. His mother was sitting on the couch waiting for him.
                  “Be safe, and come back to me” was all she said and hugged him. She walked down the hallway and turned into her room, closing the door behind her. Next to his gun and duffle by the door was a thermos, that when opened, proved to be full of coffee. She always thought of the little things. He looked up at her closed door, smiled and walked outside.
                  His second surprise of the day was standing outside by the van waiting for him. Paul was decked out in full camouflage and holding the assault rifle.
                  “It’s about time you woke up, we’ve got forty miles to travel today, and you young people just want to sleep all day!” Paul said sarcastically
                  “You can’t go, this isn’t your fight, I don’t know what we are going to encounter out there.”
                  “It is my fight. You already saved me and my brother, now it’s time for me to help save yours.”
                  I could see by his demeanor that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so Sam just shook his hand and we loaded up. Together they headed off into the night.
                  They had decided on a route that would take them almost all the way there by roads through unpopulated areas. They managed to make it almost twenty miles before they saw any of the dead.
                  “There seem to be less and less of them.” Sam commented as he watched the woman who had been about thirty and dressed in a sweat suit recede in the side mirror.
                  “We noticed that on the way,” Paul said, “they seem to have all gravitated to the population centers, well the ones that didn’t start out there. Following cars was Ken’s guess. He had a theory that when a car passed, they would follow it until something else caught there attention. He figured that since all roads lead to towns, they would walk until all the buildings and possibly survivors who may be held up there made them forget about what they were doing, so they just kind of stay there.”
                  “Mom said she had heard that they would follow vehicles out of town. She said she saw it happen back when she was held captive.” Sam added.
                  “If that is true, we figured out that if you drove through a city or town, the Sam was not to stop until you got out of the area. We would do this thing were we would slow up and let them stay right behind us, then swing around a few blocks at the edge of town and exit a different direction. They appeared to keep going in whatever direction they last saw you going.”
                  “Makes the swamp all the better, it’s so far away from people, it shouldn’t attract them, and its maze of roads would help them get lost and give you more time to run away or get ready.” Sam said thoughtfully.
                  “Basically, if we stay out of populated areas and don’t draw attention to ourselves, we should do just fine. Ken and I actually felt so secure we slept under the stars a few nights. Cities are hell, country is quiet.” Paul explained.
                  “I just wonder how long they will last, I mean, will they starve, or rot away?” Sam asked the question he had been wondering since it had all started.
                  “Back in Inverness, where I was hold up at the beginning, they had a few