If I Were the Last Man Alive - Cover

If I Were the Last Man Alive

Copyright© 2014 by Number 7

Chapter 9

Tuesday morning I was up with the roosters except there were no roosters and I was all alone. I rested very well through the night and looked forward to moving more propane. That meant another trip to Daytona and a bunch of trips back and forth.

Since the trip took me close to the beach, I thought I would drive out to the island to see the water, walk on the beach and look for whatever might be there.

There was no major rush in what I was doing. Since Florida has no cold weather, I wasn't racing against time to supply a winter fortress. Instead, I was steadily building a lifetime supply of necessities.

The solar collection system was working and hot water was readily available, so my next project was to build a serious solar system that would provide household power to the house — or both houses if the first one worked out right.

On my drive to Daytona, I couldn't get my mind off Arthea and how our relationship started. We were a pair. If you saw one of us, the other was nearby.

The years together were spectacular and precious. I never imagined life without her. The hurt was immediate and sharp. It was almost enough to make me dizzy, so I quickly turned my thoughts to other things.

I found the second propane dealership was not as well organized, not as well stocked and not as well prepared for my needs. The overall volume was higher than the day before, but the hours involved were much longer. There was no way to finish in one day, so I worked through the afternoon, filling all the tanks before running out of propane. I decided to spend the night in town and finish in the morning.

Daytona is a pretty big, little town. It stretches from I-4 to the ocean — about 20 miles across. The main road into town passes Daytona International Speedway and shopping areas, as well as a couple of colleges.

Finding a place to stay would be no problem, though my first objective was finding food. I found a nice new pick up and headed into town. The stores along the strip provided me all the eating choices I could expect.

Driving over the bridge, I got my first good view of the Atlantic. The waves were quiet and I figured it must be low tide. The weather wasn't warm enough for a dip in the ocean, but a long walk on the beach seemed like a great idea.

I walked north for about two miles, enjoying the salt air, wave action and warm, soft, sand. I left my shoes in the car and wore crocs for the beach walk, so as not to make a mess of my shoes. I needed to stop at a mall in the morning and pick up a few dozen pairs of shoes, sneakers, boots, slippers and moccasins.

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