Background

"Never up to nothin'." was Clint's entire life story. Born and raised in Carmel, Indiana Clint had the average American childhood. A mom, a dad and one younger brother who he never really saw eye-to-eye. Kenny Mercer who was four years younger, and a helluva’ lot smarter. He went to a small unknown high school where he played O-Line for the Carmel County Camels. He wasn’t particularly good at it, but he was much better at it than anything else. Unlike his brother, Clint didn't earn a scholarship or get accepted to any college worth naming. He found himself at 19 getting his CDL (Truck Driving License) and leaving home to live the rest of his life. Kenny on the otherhand went to University of Kentucky where he studied mathematics. Kenny’s high school graduation party was the last time Clint saw his family. After a clash of ego’s, Clint lost contact with his family especially his brother after getting into a physical altercation. 13 years later he regrets it to this day. Kenny had a wife and two kids while Clint was a trucker who spent his time on the road, in bars, or sleeping at a motel. On a long load across the country, Clint decided it was enough. Clint called his brother in March of 1993 that he wanted to see his brother and hash things over. His route drove through Kentucky and it wouldn’t be hard to visit his brother’s town. Knox County, KY. They agreed on dinner, a dinner where Clint could meet his two nieces, Caroline who was eleven and Aubry who was nine. The date was set for March 8th. On arriving on the day of the dinner, for the first time in 13 years Clint felt regret once more. “I shouldn’t be here.” “This isn’t my place to intrude.” These thoughts ran through Clint’s mind. He parked his truck at a rest stop and slept through it. Or at least he tried. “Sorry I caught a cold.” or “Truck’s running through some issues.” Any number of excuses he could use to again let down his baby brother. He drifted off staring at the stars with a pit in his stomach. “Clint?” A familiar voice woke him up. He shook awake. He was in his truck, yet it sounded like it was coming from inside? His vision groggy and his mind all over the place the view of the sunlit town went over him. Unexplainable rips in space appeared in front of him, behind him, all around the rest stop. The voice of his brother talked once more, “He won’t show, he's never up to nothin’.” Suddenly, commtion began to arise around him. People started coming out of them. Other truckers in their vehicle would get out and try to help, but what Clint saw was unlike anything he’s seen before. Blood. Not blood like what he saw when he played football and got scruffed up, but Blood of the amount that should never leave a body. Clint sat in disbelief, watching truckers, and other pedestrians get their body torn limb by limb. Gunshots started firing, screams echod through the area, yet Clint sat there in shock; until he heard the voice once more. “Clint!” a scream of help he hasn’t heard since childhood. Clint turned on the ignition and instantly drove out. *thud. A person? One of those things? He didn’t have time to find out. The only thing on his mind was Kenny. He raced through Knox County. Cars all doing the same. People around him cry for mercy. He ran into a pile up, Clint was only two blocks from Kenny’s house. He jumped out grabbing nothing but the clothes on his back. Clint ran faster than his 215lb body could take him. He arrived home and barged in. Not a person in sight. “They must have got out, they must have.” Clint said, gasping for air as he closed the door behind him. “Kenny, I’ll find you. I can’t do nothin’.” Since the apocalypse started, Clint has gone town to town in search of Kenny and his family. A few paper trails show up, but nothing solid. The same thing goes for relationships with others. People are friendly, people are hostile, and Clint is alone with nothin'.