Mike drove till he saw a sign that said, “Central Highway” And showed a curved left arrow and Mike turned on the turnoff and up a gill till he saw what he is looking for on the directional sign pointing to the left and said, “5 miles Central Highway” And Mike looked left and saw a burned down gas station and just a two lane road with occasional debris in the Savannah landscape and Mike turned left and drove down the road, passing and taking a look at the burned gas station to see nothing alive or worth stopping for and continued.
He drove down the road, slowly, to the right when he saw burnt rubber on the road, heading straight to a road barrier and off the side. He stopped the DeLorean in the middle of a short bridge when he saw an overturned pickup filled with various goods with a dead old man laying facedown with his arm hanging out. He saw to the far right, on the other side of a creek, a silver motorcycle and a man in his mid-20s, wearing a worn vest and jeans, is scrummaging through the overturned truck and found some family photos of the old man, hugging and old woman and two young girls before them, kneeling, and the man said, “Delicious.” And he shoved them in his pocket when suddenly he was yanked back, by his feet, and banged his head on the door as he yelped in pain. He cradled the back of his head, as he cringed, and yelped, “Dude, what the fuck!” He looked up to see Mike aiming his shotgun right at his face and the young man noticed the AFP badge on his left breast and the young man’s eyes are wide open (as he looked shocked), waved his hands up and then smiled and said, “Hey man, just scrummaging stuff that is unclaimed!” Mike continued looking down at the young man with a blank expression, then eyed at the dead old man and the young man looked and had a nervous expression on his face and the young man (pointing at the dead old man behind himself) pleaded, “Hey! He was already dead man! I think it was a heart attack!” He chuckled as the young man continued, “I guess no one is going to miss his wrinkly ass!” Mike then nodded at his pocket with the photos and the young man looked down, surprised and pulled them out. The young man yelped, “Oh! I just found these in the truck man. I figured to take these and give them back to his family if I found them.” A growling noise issued forth from Mike’s throat and the young man looked scared as he stammered, “He-no! I’m not that crazy! I’m just trying to return what’s rightfully theirs!” Mike asked, “That’s why you said, delicious?” And the young man looked disappointed.
The young man yelped, “Hey, what are you doing?” The young man was handcuffed, facing a tree with his arms around it and the young man yelped, “You can’t do this man! This is cruel and unusual punishment!” Mike spoke blankly, “Taking someone’s personal belongings and making an obscene remark about his family is considered a crime.” Mike tied a bag of water on the tree with a straw in front of the young man and bent down a tree branch and put the key to the handcuffs on it, tied and dangled from a twig before letting the branch go and the key hung over the young man and Mike continued, “As you may not know this particular type of tree, it losses its branches by the end of the season and grows new ones later. So it now rests with this branch of when you will be able to uncuf yourself. Unless this tree is different, you will have about three months till you can reach the key.” The young man looked at him and up the branch in shock when the young man yelped, “You can’t leave me like this! I was just saying shit man! I didn’t hurt anybody!” Mike asked, “Would you rather I cut your right hand off?” It was silent for a few moments till the young man yelped, “Hey! How am I supposed to defend myself?” Mike replied, “Use your feet and loud mouth.” He then turned away and the young man yelped again, “But how am I supposed to get the key man?” Mike stopped, rolled his eyes and answered, “Stretch your neck and grab it with your teeth.” He began walking away when (again) the young man yelped, “You son of a bitch! You can’t leave me here like this! Hey!” Mike then tore out the gas tank with his hands and spread half the tank (what’s left inside) over the truck before tossing it away, lite a match and dropped it, lighting the truck on fire. The young man back against the tree as he yelped, looked on in shock and called out, “Jesus! What are you? Why are you burning all the goods?” Mike replied, “They are not yours to claim.” He then picked up the body of the old man and dropped it in the fire. Mike stood there and watched for a few moments when the young man broke the silence, “What’s with the Viking funeral man?” Mike turned and walked away, climbing up the slope as the young man kept calling his name and begging him to let him go, but Mike ignored him and drove away towards the highway as the young man’s cries died behind him.
The black DeLorean drove down a ramp and Mike stopped the car, put it in park and looked out, leaning over the wheel and saw the highway, in front of him, was nearly cleared with vehicles that are either abandoned, burned or wrecked leaving the highway littered with furniture and other goods that dropped from the vehicles as they were moved off. He opened up the door and stepped out to look ahead and behind and didn’t see anyone or bodies within sight and Mike smirked and spoke to himself, “Can’t beat that.” He got back in his car, closed the door, turned on the car’s music player before the DeLorean’s tires squealed and raced off the ramp and down the highway (heading north) as “Highway To Hell” by AC/DC blared from the car’s speakers.
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