I thought I was ready to move out the other day, when I realized I had some...unfinished business back at home. I booted up the computers back at home and left them the same message, even sticking a written copy in my mom's laptop, just in case they come back from...whatever happened. I mean, it hadn't happened yet, but who knows, right? Here, I even saved a copy of it, I'll just put it over here...
To my family,
I'm sorry, but I couldn't stay and wait for you to return. I saved what I could and left, going north to Denver. Hopefully by the time you get this, I'll still be there. If not, I'll leave another message there for you to find at the Museum of Science.
There are...so many things I want to tell you. If our neighbors come back at the same time you do, yeah, it was me. I broke into their homes for supplies. I also stole a truck, not yours dad, a bigger one, and took their dog with me. Couldn't just leave him to starve, even if I did have to steal kibble for him. Heck, I stole a lot of things to be ready for this. I might even steal some more if time permits, or I manage to find other people. I've got my eye on solar panels, for instance.
Just...know that whatever I end up doing, and whatever I end up looking like, I'll always care about you guys. But I can't stay here. There's no more Internet, soon there won't be any more power or water. I need to find a reservoir if I'm going to set up a more permanent camp. I'm going to need generators until I get the solar panels set up. And...I hope if you guys do end up finding me, I'll have built something that clearly says 'Henry was/is here.'
Take care.
Henry
...Yeah, with that bit of business done, and a few manly tears shed, I transferred my meat and dairy to the back of my trailer truck, started up the generator to keep them at the least chilled, and took Skippy to our new mobile home.
Heh, maybe I should see about getting something smaller. Maybe when I get to Denver. As it stands, with my freakish body and not a lot of ways to drive the truck that weren't 'hunched over the wheel', I took it nice and slow, even though all the traffic was gone. I'd never driven something so large before, and I wanted to make sure I didn't jostle anything in the back too much. They were my supplies too, after all.
I monitored the frequency on the radio at noon, and I think I heard something, but I'm not sure. Once I did, I gently pulled to a stop and tried listening to the radio, but got nothing. I sent out another broadcast, though. Just to be safe.
"To anyone that can hear this, I think I heard one of you not too long ago. I didn't hear much, but it wasn't static, that much I know. I'm currently past...the exits to Monument, on I-25. Just past the 161 exit. If you can hear me, please, respond. I don't think you want to be alone in this world...and I share that feeling."
There was silence for a minute longer, and my only response was static for ten minutes. I sighed before starting the truck up again, cruising down the highway at a slow clip on my way to the northern city I'd visited only a few times.
It's still surprisingly easy to drive my truck, despite my hunched-over stance I have to use. I had to work to reach the pedals sometimes, and I couldn't give it all the gas I wanted to, but still. Cruising down the road at a steady clip was more than I thought I might have been able to do. Dusk fell a lot sooner than I thought it would, and I found that while I could see a little better in the dark thanks to my new eyes, I didn't really want to drive at night. Never was one for driving in poor conditions, even with all the traffic gone.
Once I found the sign for my next exit, Larkspur, I pulled off the road and opened up the back, fetching Skippy's dishes from where they'd slid and filling them up with some kibble and water. After I made sure the mutt was properly fed and watered, I took one of the Sterno cans and lit it with one of the lighters I'd snagged from the camping section of my Wal-mart. With that flame going, I now had something to cook my meat with, and checked to see how the generator in back was faring.
It hadn't used up too much gas keeping my coolers cold, and it was easy enough to refill it. I'd pulled up close to a gas station anyways, so I could spare the time to make sure it was still going strong. A quick refill from one of the cans, and a quick refill of the can, and now I could use my fire-in-a-can to cook with, now that there were no other pressing concerns. Good thing I snagged a mini grill while I was at it, really more of a wire mesh to put over the Sterno. I gently used my claw to move the can when I thought a particular bit had been cooked enough, and after a few passes over the fire, I had a steak. That I tore into with my beak.
Yeah, it was weird the first time. But it just felt...right. Somehow. I mean, hell, with these claws, I've basically got the best knives around, as long as I remember to clean them between meals. And it wasn't that much different than tearing into a chicken drumstick. Only now, I was doing it with all my meals. The dang thing even feels stronger than my teeth used to be, so I'm just gonna roll with it.
Still hope that this whole...thing, is reversible. Whatever it is.
After that and some bread to tide me over, I made sure Skippy did his business outside the truck before closing the back up and pulling us both back into the cab of the thing. Cab, that's what it's called. That was bothering me. I've taken my pill already as well, and I feel tired now. So I'm just gonna nod off, see if anyone's in Denver tomorrow.