<div style="text-align: center"><div style="visibility: visible; border-top: 5px solid #7E52A0; border-bottom: 5px solid #D295BF; border-left: 5px #252525; border-right: 5px #252525; border-radius: 100%; height: 120px; max-width: 120px; margin: auto;"><div style=" /*IMAGE*/ border-radius: 100%; height: 110px; max-width: 110px; margin: auto; background-size: cover; background-position: center; background-image: url(https://64.media.tumblr.com/514e196a6172643271597556d289ef53/7977a7e648dafed4-e2/s400x600/101aa0296ac9596b9917a4612c80c0a1d7d01a1b.gif); font-size: 0px;">image</div></div><div style=" font-size: 20px; font-weight: lighter; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 5px;"><span style="font-family:Quicksand">Harper</span></div><br/>
<span style="font-family:Calibri"> A hiking trip would be good for you. Get out of town for a little while, clear your head. Home will be here waiting for you when you get back.</span>​</div><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family:Calibri"><i>Hey, Chickpea. Uh… I'm at the hospital with your mom. Something happened, call me back when you can. Love you.<br/>
Harper. I don't know what's going on but your mom is… sick. Something is happening. I just hope you're safe.</i></span>​</div><span style="font-family:Calibri"> <br/>
At the most pivotal time in her life, Harper had found herself up in the Appalachian trails in Georgia. Over two-hundred miles away from home. There was no service up in the mountain and when she had found herself down in a town everything was frantic. The voicemails were the last time she would hear her father's voice even if she didn't know it.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">It had taken her a long time to get out of Georgia. Between the dead and the living, threats had come from everywhere. She had joined a couple of groups but ultimately they couldn't find anywhere safe and they were left running for their lives time and time again. The last time they got separated there was no chance of finding them again, she knew it in her chest. She would just have to keep moving and make the final push on her odyssey back home.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">Fresh air poured through the open windows of the car, the little Mitsubishi Mirage had seen better days but it was reliable and good on gas. The less she had to stop to try to siphon fuel out of other vehicles the better. With her old IPod plugged into the AUX port, she filled the car with music to try to keep her mind off of what she was about to face. She had pulled into Prattville about twenty minutes ago and was maneuvering the car through the twists and turns of all the obstacles that had been left in the roads.</span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family:Calibri"><b><u>345 Bent Tree Drive<br/>
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Her childhood home, the place she had made so many happy memories. The place that was there for her to move into when her fiancé decided that he didn't love her anymore. The place where she was always welcome, always safe. The little brick house was exactly as she remembered it when she had driven away from it over three years ago now. Her dad's project car was still sitting in the back of the driveway near the wooden fence. Her mom's car parked in front of it but her dad's truck was gone. They hadn't been home when it had happened, she had figured that much already from the voicemails that had been left.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">She could only imagine they had still been at the hospital when the shit hit the proverbial fan. The worst place to be she would imagine.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">She pulled her car into the driveway, putting it into park and turning it off. Sitting there starring at the house for a long minute as she wondered what she was going to find inside if she would find anything at all. "You've got this. I've got this." She readied herself as she got out of the car, walking up the front door and trying the handle to find that it was still locked. Cupping her hands around her eyes she pressed her forehead and nose to the door to try to see through the glass. No movement.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">Taking a step back she opened the zipper of the fanny pack hanging around her waist, digging through it briefly until she felt the single key she had kept throughout the years. The key to her home. She shoved it into the lock and opened the door, being greeted by an empty house. The backdoor was wide open and there was a splattering of glass on the floor, telling her someone had been inside at some point or another but it was silent.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">A quick check of the kitchen cabinets told her that all of the food was gone. She had enough in the car to last her a week at most if she really managed it well. She hadn't come here for the food anyway. There was a quick trip through her old room, throwing some clothes in a bag as well as a few of her pictures. She was sentimental, she couldn't help it. She had started to walk by her parent's room before she took a few steps backwards, peeking into it. A decision made as she turned on her heel and went inside, checking the closet for the toolboxes that her dad kept there since they didn't have a garage.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">With the bag hanging from her shoulder and a toolbox in each hand, she lugged everything outside to the car to throw it into the backseat before heading back inside. She had never been much of a gun person, the moderate sized hunting knife hanging from her hip her preferred form of protection that she had had since before the dead had started to walk. But she knew that her dad kept a pistol in the house, if it was still there she would take it just in case.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">She turned their bedroom over, not finding it but finding a splattering of bullets for it. Taking her time she checked other places throughout the house where she thought it could possibly be hidden before she finally made her way outside to check his truck just to be thorough. Sure enough it was tucked underneath the driver's seat of his pick-up and the weight of it felt weird in her hand. The Glock 19 Gen 4 9mm pistol had been her dad's favorite hand gun, touting on its reliability because of its police use.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">It felt weird to hold it and as soon as she had it she made her way back to her car, reaching through the passenger's side window to place it gently on the seat. She leaned into the window, her head hanging low as she sighed. It was getting to be late in the afternoon and she knew that she needed to find a place to stay for the night and what place was better than her home? She still hesitated. Unsure if she was really emotionally prepared to spend the night alone in her home knowing that her parents…</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">It had been hard to fall asleep in her own bed so she had moved to her parent's bed. It was such a childish notion but she wanted to at least just smell them one more time. She didn't know if she ever really slept, she didn't feel like she did. Constantly listening for any new sound in the dark that would mean that she needed to defend herself. The gun was next to her on the bed. She had decided it worthwhile to bring inside with her just in case, as well as her radio. She had been listening to the emergency channel off and on for days throughout her travels. But that morning, at sunrise, was the first time she had heard the message.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">It jolted her awake, missing part of it before she realized what was happening.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri"><i>The farm is off of 1-20, about thirty miles outside of Birmingham. You'll find exit 78 for West Jefferson and once you get off that exit, there will be signs pointing you towards the farm, if you're smart enough to know what to look for.</i></span><br/><br/><span style="font-family:Calibri">A farm? People? It sounded safe and she didn't realize how lonely she was until she felt the ache in her chest at hearing another human voice. She needed to get to this farm. </span>