The Storm

state maps. I bought some beef jerky and a bag of pretzels and continued on my quest.

Getting a cell signal, I called the office. “Zach, you okay?” The old familiar voice of Mr. Fessmyer filled the speaker phone. “Yes Sir. I just wanted to check in and tell you that I met my contact and headed inland to the main inland flood area. I'll call when I can. I have already met some interesting people, and I’ll be catching the story of some of the local people. It’s worse than it appears on the news and... hello... hel lo boss... you there?” No signal. I had been talking to myself. "At least he knows I’m here," I thought. The highway sign read “Indian Mound 10 miles.” My plan was to do exactly as I had been instructed. Indian Mound, then to Pride, and from Pride drop south to be just north of the flood area. I passed on through Indian Mound without stopping and headed up the 409. Traveling had been good, except for occasional low spots in the road where it had puddled, but there was no flowing water across the road. Yet, there was a continuing drizzle of rain. I came upon an old bullet-ridden sign on the right side of the road. I had slowed down to a snail's pace to read what it said: “RUBY 15 mi.” The sign was barely hanging on the post, and I decided to continue up the 409. The road to Ruby did not look too inviting, It was a dirt and gravel mix that showed very little sign of travel, and a scary movie that I had seen came to mind. The road appeared to disappear into huge cypress trees in the distance and I recalled the movie The Gator People when I was a kid in Arizona, and how frightened it made me. I don’t know why I

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