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On a Long Forgotten Road: anno nil - year zero
On a Long Forgotten Road: anno nil - year zero
On a Long Forgotten Road: anno nil - year zero
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On a Long Forgotten Road: anno nil - year zero

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Shortly after the outbreak of the virus, the creature outbreak, the apocalypse, whatever the hell you want to call it. The old man struggles to survive, and maintain his minimal sanity in a world turned upside down.

His extreme self-isolation is challenged, when he begins searching for his ex-wife and long estranged daughter.

But when his world is destroyed, he seeks vengeance on the people responsible. And the old man is further transformed from a mentally ill loner, into the monster he fears.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherS.R. McKenzie
Release dateOct 12, 2017
ISBN9780995172067
On a Long Forgotten Road: anno nil - year zero
Author

S.R. McKenzie

I am from Regina (Sask. Canada), but now live between Kelowna and Vancouver. I have more than a few children, and I am 36 years old.  I hate talking about myself, it's my least favorite subject. All I will say about myself is that in the poem by Frost "The Road Not Taken", I took neither path. I went right through the forest and created my own path, and have the scars to prove it.

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    On a Long Forgotten Road - S.R. McKenzie

    Table of Contents

    On a Long Forgotten Road: anno nil - year zero

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    BAM

    On a Long Forgotten Road: anno nil - year zero

    Shortly after the outbreak of the virus, the creature outbreak, the apocalypse, whatever the hell you want to call it. The old man struggles to survive, and maintain his minimal sanity in a world turned upside down.

    His extreme self-isolation is challenged, when he begins searching for his ex-wife and long estranged daughter.

    But when his world is destroyed, he seeks vengeance on the people responsible. And the old man is further transformed from a mentally ill loner, into the monster he fears.

    Now - 1

    On a long forgotten road, in the middle of butt-fuck-no-where, burned out and abandoned cars are scattered all over the road, leading to a narrow bridge. Half way down the bridge is a raised platform of broken road, bout 4 feet apart. It’s like the bridge broke in the middle, and half raised up and half fell down, ready to fall apart.

    The old man weaves between the cars, towards the middle of the bridge. Broken, beaten, battered, starving and dehydrated. He stops and sits on one of the cars, just to take a minute to reflect on what he just did... all the killing, too much for one lifetime... all in the past week. Destroyed a town, homes, killed men, so many men, young, old... they all died, and it wasn’t enough, it was never enough... the monster always wants more.

    Lighting a smoke, old smokie, just a small piece of paradise.

    Just then the old man sees 3 people at the edge of the broken bridge. A big fellow with a bald head and huge beard. A slim guy, with a slight limp, and a redhead woman with a shotgun.

    Hey You! the big fellow yells.

    Nice day for a walk. The old man returns, without missing a beat.

    The fuck you want here old man. The big fellow yells.

    WHAT DO I WANT? THAT question stops the old man in my tracks... what do I actually want?

    Purpose has never been asked of the old man, only duty has been asked of him.  I guess I want my life back, I want to feel like a human being again, instead of a fucking animal, eating the garbage and scraps left by others. The old man says to himself, reflecting on his last remaining shred of humanity.

    After sitting with his superficial words, and taking them not for how they were meant, but for what they meant for him.

    to be human again. The old man whispers back. TO BE HUMAN! He yells back at the top of his lungs!

    Maybe I should start over this story over, or at least from the beginning.

    BACK WHEN IT STARTED - 1

    As the old man looks at the body of the young man being torn apart by those... creatures, something inside him breaks... the violence the old man left behind in the Middle East, instantly rises to the surface, and the world burns red hot with his anger.

    Armed with just a simple staff, he slowly approaches 15-20 of these fucking things. Knowing his stealth will be his

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