Post by Roman Hughes on Aug 20, 2016 13:01:50 GMT -5
"On the road again~
Goin' places that I've never been~
Seen' things that I may never see again~
And I can't wait to get on the road again."
His own voice was the only companion that accompanied Roman now as he drove a lonely worn road. He was surprised it took this long to start singing country music but he was running out of travel songs and he didn't have his crew anymore. They all got seperated one night when the undead patrol showed up and made them scatter away from Bessie. By the time sunrise hit Roman lost them and made it back to the truck..but he was the only one to make it back. He wasn't sure if they were dead, dying, or were still lost. He was going to wait but, soon another swarm came and he didn't have much options but to take the truck and hightail it, and he's been regretting it ever since. Now he was alone, sure he had music but to him it was only worth listening too when he had people, and they were so close. He still remembered the promise he gave to Tory, to stay by her side and protect like a big bro should...see how well that turned out?
But he couldn't mope about it, he had to live for them. And if they were still alive he was gonna be damned sure to find his way to them, or even show them a safe place. That's what his plan has been now just to find a haven where he could recoup and work on a plan. He grabbed the map in the passenger seat and took out the mini pencil he had stuck in his nappy fro. He's tracking his progress from some of the towns he's been and he was seeing what's a good place to go with the amount of gas he still had, it was halfway empty. If he kept on this road he could make a turn for the Wyoming National Park. Parks usually meant less walkers, maybe there was some abandonEd ranger camp with some food and even a Jeep? Though he loved Bessie, this thing was a gas guzzler and you couldn't hide with something the color of Clifford the Big Red dog. If people were there he hoped they were friendly to cripples..well former crippled. He still had the long leg cast boot on though his leg healed a long while and the crutch, he hated tricking people but survival is survival and pity wasn't a bad tool to use. If they wanted to fight however, he had his uncle's shotgun with a few extra shells of things got antsy.
As he got close he saw the sign to welcome guests to the Wyoming Park and barely made it less than mile before he started hearing gunshots in the distance. He instinctively ducked and reached for his own gun to make sure it was loaded. He didn't want to go into a shootout, but always be prepared.
"Man I'm hoping that's for Yogi and Boo for some picnic baskets.."