I'm so hot I'm actually sweating aha I need a shower… :/
AND ITS QUESTION TIME! :D Okay, so this question was asked my WeAreTheWorld, so go follow them! And they asked: About what chapter will Zach and Cammie meet, and approximately how many chapters will this story be?
Answer: They will be meeting soon! In the next few chapters And this is gonna be a LOOOOOOONG book, probably about 100 chapters! Maybe more! Thanks for your question babe ;)
Zach's flight landed in New Bern hours after the sun had begun its decent toward the western horizon. In his rental car, he crossed the Neuse River into Bridgeton and tuned onto Highway 55. On either side of the highway, farmhouses were set back from the road and interspersed with the occasional tobacco barn that had fallen into ruin. The flat landscape shimmered in the afternoon sunlight, and it seemed to him that nothing had changed since he'd left so many years ago, maybe not even in a hundred years. He passed through Grantsboro and Alliance, Bayboro and Stonewall, towns even smaller than Oriental, and it struck him that Pamlico County was like a place lost in time, nothing but a forgotten page in an abandoned book.
It was also home, and though many of the memories were painful, it was here where Joe had befriended him and it was here where he'd met Cammie. One by one, he began to recognize landmarks from his childhood, and in the silence of the car he wondered who he might have become had Joe and Cammie never entered his life. But more than that, he wondered how differently his life might have turned out had Dr. Edward Townsend not stepped out for a jog on the night of September 18th, 1985.
Dr. Townsend had moved to Oriental in December of the previous year with his wife and two children. For years, the town had been without a physician of any kind. The previous physician had retired to Florida in 1980, and Oriental's Board of Commissioners had been trying to replace him ever since. There was a desperate need, but despite the numerous incentives that the town offered, few decent candidates' were interested in moving to what was essentially a backwater. As luck would have it, Dr. Townsend's wife, Patricia, had grown up in the area and, like Cammie, was considered to be almost royalty. Patricia's parents, the Moscowitzs, grew apples, peaches, grapes, and blueberries in a massive orchard on the outskirts of town, and after he finished his residency, Edward Townsend moved to his wife's hometown and opened his own practice.
He was busy from the beginning. Tired of traveling the forty minutes to New Bern, patients flocked to his office, but the doctor was under no illusion that he'd ever become rich. It simply wasn't possible in a small town in a poor country, no matter how busy the practice was and despite the family connections. Though no one else in town knew it, the orchard had been heavily mortgaged, and on the day Edward had moved to town, his father-in-law had hit him up for a loan. But even after he'd helped his in-laws with money, the cost of living was low enough to allow him to buy a four-bedroom colonial overlooking Smith Creek, and his wife was thrilled to be back home. In her mind, Oriental was an ideal place to raise children, and for the most part she was right.
Dr. Townsend loved the outdoors. He surfed and swam; he bicycled and ran. It was common for people to see him jogging briskly up Broad Street after work, eventually heading past the outskirts of town. People would honk or wave, and Dr. Townsend would nod without breaking stride. Sometimes, after a particularly long day, he wouldn't start until just before dark, and on September 18, 1985, that was exactly what happened. He left the house just as dusk was settling over the town. Though Dr. Townsend didn't know it, the roads were slick. It had rained earlier that afternoon, steadily enough to raise the oil from the macadam but not hard enough to wash it away.
He started out on his usual route, which took about thirty minutes, but that night he never made it home. By the time the moon had risen, Patricia started to get anxious, and after asking a neighbor to watch the kids, she hopped in the car to search for him. Just beyond the curve at the edge of town, near a corpse of trees, she found an ambulance, along with the sheriff and a slowly growing crowd of people. It was there, she learned, that her husband had been killed when the driver of a truck lost control and skidded into him.
The truck, Patricia was told, was owned by Joe Solomon. The driver, who would soon be charged with felony death by motor vehicle and involuntary manslaughter, was eighteen years old and already in handcuffs.
His name was Zach Goode.
Uhhhh ohhhhhh… Zach you killed someone ya dummy nice work. REVIEW AND LEAVE ME A QUESTION! :D
-Katie