|
|
|
|  |
Chapter 25
Tate woke up the next morning cold and shivering. The damp cave offered little comfort and only did its job of hiding him. Now, he needs to find a new place. "Those hounds will be here any minute I know it. I'm surprised they haven't been already. If I get hauled back to prison, I'll spend the rest of my life there, no question." He said. The sun warmed him as he ran. He suddenly remembered where he was at. "These are my old stomping grounds." he laughed. "They''ll never find me now, suckers." Just off to the right, was the watering hole he played in as a kid. To the left, an old dirt trail he use to ride his bike. "That means that straight ahead, is my old house." he snickered as he rubbed his hands together. He ran as fast as his tired feet could carry him. All of a sudden, things became unfamiliar. The tall oak tree he used as a landmark to get home when he was a kid was gone. The old fence that lined the road was wiped out and only grass stood in its place. He ran to the left and noticed the tall blue silos were heavily weathered and deteriorating. It was almost like the zombie apocalypse has been through here. He kept going. On the right up the street should be his house. A miserable place, full of horrible memories but now ironically, a place of safety. He reached the...
|
