Milepost 291 Quotes

“Can’t wait to sit down for a while. This pretending to be brave and strong is getting old.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“That would be just dandy. All we’d have to do is sit back and wait for them to wipe each other out. But that doesn’t explain the message written in blood. That’s the mark of a seriously deranged mind. An intelligent mind, but one without a conscience.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“What do we do when it gets dark?”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“But we’re not a family.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“the pistol DeVontay had given her, but she’d found another in the house they’d slept in two nights before. It was heavy and shiny and had probably never been fired. The bullets in the revolver’s chamber were fatter than what she was used to, so she assumed it would pack a hefty kick. But she hadn’t had a chance for target practice. Until now. She fished it from her pack and leaned more heavily against the tree, taking some of the weight off her injured leg. If she fired the gun, Zapheads would come from miles around. The”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“I’m the government now,” Sarge said. “Sure, there might be other bunkers like this one. Maybe even our beloved president is playing a hand of poker and drinking beer in one as we speak. I’ve heard rumors there are serious bunkers out in Colorado where they have entire armored divisions and even planes in shielded bunkers, where the electromagnetic pulse wouldn’t have affected them. Maybe even the Russians and Chinese are already rolling this way.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“The end of the world had taught Rachel Wheeler many lessons, but the most recent one was this: Running for your life was a bitch when you only had one leg. She tightened the moist, stained bandana that kept the worst of the leaking to a minimum, then hobbled forward another ten feet. The wild dog that had bitten her could have inflicted any number of infections, but it wasn’t like she could hobble into the ER and”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“chances”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“dotted line on the map that promised few houses and even fewer murderous mutants. The bite wound on Rachel’s left calf had gotten steadily worse, passing from mere red irritation to a festering purple mess. The stuff coming out of it now was more pus than blood, and although she’d packed it with antibiotic ointment she’d found in an abandoned farmhouse, the infection had now caused a mild fever. And a fiery volcano of agony with each step. She’d lost the pistol DeVontay had given her, but she’d found another in the house they’d slept in two nights before. It was heavy and”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“have inflicted any number of infections, but it wasn’t like she could hobble into the ER and have modern medicine deal with it. In After, there were no insurance plans. She leaned against a tree, its rough bark rubbing her spine as she sneaked a look down the forested slope. The Blue Ridge Mountains were”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“this was looking like her final hour. They’d not seen a Zaphead for two days, ever since leaving the highway and taking the Old Turnpike Road, a winding dotted line on the map that promised few houses and even fewer murderous mutants. The bite wound on Rachel’s left calf had gotten steadily worse, passing from”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“bearded one cackled and the man in the orange cap said, “Everybody knows what Zapheads are, or else they’re dead.” “I don’t have a gun.” The bearded man aimed his weapon at DeVontay. “Then you better get your ass over here, hadn’t”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“before getting shot, he would never nail both of the armed men from thirty yards away. He could also duck into the water and swim downstream, but he didn’t think he could hold his breath long enough to get out of range. That was assuming the rapids ahead were even deep enough to conceal him. “What do you want?” DeVontay said, stalling for time.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“hobble into the ER and have modern medicine deal with it. In After, there were no insurance plans. She leaned against a tree, its rough bark rubbing her spine as she sneaked a look down the forested slope. The Blue Ridge Mountains were sheathed in October’s mellow gold, but the leaves were steadily raining down in the breeze as the forest braced for winter’s sleep. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear them. Their footfalls were heavy in the crisp leaves, as if the Zapheads had no awareness of the noise they were making. Stephen was higher up the ridge, making better time than she was, but the boy had stopped to wait for her. Little dude better start listening if he wants to make it out of this alive. But she could understand his hesitation.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“they’d slept in two nights before. It was heavy and shiny and had probably never been fired. The bullets in the revolver’s chamber were fatter than what she was used to, so she assumed it would pack a hefty kick. But she hadn’t had a chance for target practice. Until now. She fished it from her pack and leaned more heavily against the tree, taking some of the weight off her injured leg. If she fired the gun, Zapheads would come from miles around. The weapon was a last resort. Five down, and the last bullet”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“feet. The wild dog that had bitten her could have inflicted any number of infections, but it wasn’t like she could hobble into the ER and have modern medicine deal with it. In After, there were no insurance plans. She leaned against a tree, its rough bark rubbing her spine as she sneaked a look down the forested slope. The Blue Ridge Mountains were sheathed in October’s mellow gold,”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“inflicted any number of infections, but it wasn’t like she could hobble into the ER and have modern medicine deal with it. In After, there were no insurance plans. She leaned against a tree, its rough bark rubbing her spine as she sneaked a look down the forested slope. The Blue Ridge Mountains were sheathed in October’s mellow gold, but the leaves were steadily raining down in the breeze as the forest braced for winter’s sleep. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear them. Their footfalls were heavy in the crisp leaves, as if the Zapheads had no awareness of the noise they were making. Stephen was higher up the ridge, making better time than she was, but the boy had stopped to wait for her. Little dude”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“spine as she sneaked a look down the forested slope. The Blue Ridge Mountains were sheathed in October’s mellow gold, but the leaves were steadily raining down in the breeze as the forest braced for winter’s sleep.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“What if they’re on the parkway?”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“He glared at Jorge. “I doubt you’re American, but we’ll throw you in as a bonus.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“the worst of the leaking to a minimum, then hobbled forward another ten feet. The wild dog that had bitten her could have inflicted any number of infections, but it wasn’t like she could hobble into the ER and have modern medicine deal with it. In After, there were no insurance plans. She leaned against a tree, its rough bark rubbing her spine as she sneaked a look down”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“Can Rachel and her fellow survivors make the dangerous journey to Milepost 291 and evade the Zapheads long enough to form a new society and preserve the human race?”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“It’ll be cold.”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291

“learn of Campbell’s drawings, addiction”
― Scott Nicholson, Milepost 291