Week 2, Day 4.1 - Mr. Johnson Goes On a Journey

Mr. Johnson and I headed back to the shelter. At the bottom of the long tunnel that leads to the main foyer of the shelter, the girls greeted us. I hugged and kissed Jill. He unloaded his footballs completely forgetting about it and went to his wife.

“Jimmy and Grace are safe. We got a note from them. They are at Saint Paul’s Cathedral.”

“Oh my goddess Todd, that’s wonderful.” Mrs. Johnson said.

“I got to go find them Cadence, tell them to come here where it’s much safer and has all this food.”

Jimmy or James Davis was Mr. Johnson’s longtime best friends. They grew up playing football together, and James was his special team's coach who he brought along with him to Hope University football program.

Again my suggestions to him on the way back didn’t work. The man loved Jimmy. They were practically brothers.

“I can’t go with you, Mr. Johnson. I simply won’t risk it. And your family shouldn’t risk it either," I said.

“I’m willing to do it alone. You guys will slow me down anyhow.” Mr. Johnson looked resolute.

I frowned. There was no way I could stop him. His mind was set. “Again, I would ask you not do this. They are safe. We are safe. Please reconsider.”

Todd fought with it in his head. He couldn’t let it go. The serum wouldn’t win.

“No, I have to go. Please, Adam, you could help me by giving me some supplies.”

I considered it. There was a very dark part of me that thought about going with him and shooting him in the back of the head and returning and making up a story. I wasn’t that far gone was I? I mean I guess I did some pretty evil things, but outright cold blood ****? I couldn’t even consider it. But I know this was going to end up biting me in the ass.

I helped Mr. Johnson packed his things. He took a backpack full of MREs, bottles of waters, and some other supplies and I walked him to the shelter, his family standing behind him.

“Stay safe Honey and come back alive,” His wife said to him.

“Bye dad, see you soon.” Jill and Tracy both said.

The steel door slid open, and Mr. Johnson walked out waving goodbye, a pistol in his hand. I grimaced. The next time I see him probably won’t be pretty.