The Road from Glen Cove

Posted on Sun May 18th, 2025 @ 6:20pm by Survivor Cody Mercer
Edited on on Sun May 18th, 2025 @ 6:26pm

390 words; about a 2 minute read

Mission: Please Sir...
Location: Route 1, Nearing Rockland
Timeline: November 14, 2010

The only thing Cody Mercer knew for sure was that he couldn’t stay in Glen Cove.

Not anymore.

The small coastal town in Maine had lasted longer than most. It had water, clean air, and people who tried—really tried—to keep something resembling civilization alive. Cody had offered what he could: medicine, calm leadership, a pair of hands steady enough to sew wounds while others panicked. For a while, it was enough.

Until the winter brought sickness. Until the food ran out. Until fear outweighed decency.

He lost a patient—then another—and when someone finally blamed him for not doing more, he didn’t argue. He just packed his bag and walked out before dawn. No confrontation. No goodbye. Just the bitter salt of sea air at his back and the weight of his mother’s silver ring swinging against his chest.

Now, there was nothing left for him in the north.

He didn’t have a destination. Not really. But something in him—instinct, maybe, or that stubborn flicker of his mother’s optimism—told him to head south.

South meant warmer weather. It meant fewer blizzards, fewer frozen bodies huddled in burned-out homes. Maybe it meant more survivors. Maybe someone out there was still trying.

He didn’t know who. Or what. But if there was anything left of the world that deserved saving, it wouldn't be hiding in the bones of New England. It would be somewhere out there—far from the rot, from the silence. Somewhere people hadn’t given up yet.

He strapped on his old pack—worn canvas, faded straps—and made a final check:
• A battered medkit with a dwindling supply of antibiotics
• A folding travel guitar tucked in with his clothes
• A weathered notebook filled with patient notes, sketches, and half-written songs
• And a picture—creased and water-stained—of him and his mother at a piano, smiling like they hadn’t a care in the world

As the sun rose over the abandoned streets of Glen Cove, Cody set his boots to the road.

He didn't have a name to follow.
He didn't have a map with a marked destination.
He didn’t know if there was anything to find.

But he knew one thing:

He was going to keep moving south—until he found something worth stopping for.

 

RSS Feed