The poster was a full scale drawing of the town. It had each and every exit of the town, as well as a guide for a car to go in and out. On the back were little notes, like the length of time the town wall gate was open, and the regular routes for truck drivers on the seventh day. Betty intended to put the poster back in the exact same spot she found it and then sneak out of the room. But Max was already in front of the door. Betty stood frozen, her mouth wide open, shaking in her nightgown. Max crept over to her with an evil look in his eyes.
“Put it down Betty,” he said in a low gruff voice. She opened her hands and instantly dropped the poster. He walked right next to her and whispered, “Say one word Betty, just one word about what you saw, and I’ll cut your head off.” “Max!” she yelled putting her hands over her mouth. “I’m your sister Max, why are you doing this?” He stared back at her and with no emotion repeated, “Say one word Betty, just one word. You’ll regret it.” Then he pushed her out of the room and shut the door in her face.
Betty did not sleep well from that moment on. Every night she dreamt her brother was walking into her room with a knife, she would hear a shrill scream and would wake up sweating. After her discovery, Betty and Max never spent any time alone again.
Time passed and before Betty knew it her brother turned seventeen. On his birthday he walked into Betty’s room where she was lying down. But when she saw him open the door she jumped out of bed immediately.
“Betty I’m not here to hurt you, but to say goodbye.” Max turned around and was about to walk out of the room, but Betty screamed his name. “I’ve been scared every night Max. I keep dreaming you’ll come into my room to kill me.” A piece of Max died a little bit inside. He wanted so much to apologize for frightening her and tell her why he had to do what he was about to do. But he knew he couldn’t yet.
“Goodbye Betty,” Max said again and walked out of her room. He walked slowly down the stairs knowing this might be the last time he could come back to his home. Max opened the door, continued walking, and went over to the Milkman van his father used to go to work every day. He had imagined his plan over a hundred times, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy. He thought he was prepared with two seven-day meal plans, a kitchen knife he had grabbed, and enough fuel for a very long trip. He started the van, pulled out of his driveway and drove out to the front gate. Then he parked the van. He was waiting for a food truck, which was supposed to arrive in exactly three minutes. Max would follow right behind that truck and make a dash for the forest when he crossed through the gate. It felt like a year for Max just sitting and waiting for that truck. Finally the food truck arrived. As planned he pulled out behind the truck, but there was just one problem. There was a police car on the other side of the gate. Max hadn’t planned for this. The truck zoomed forward and Max trailed right behind it. The second he cleared the town gate Max heard loud sirens. The officer was apparently out of gas so he jumped out of the police car and opened fire on his Milkman van. Max drove toward the officer hoping he would move out of the way, but for some reason he just stood there. Max ran over the officer, leaving his body motionless on the ground. He felt crazy, and was freaked out of his mind. But he knew he couldn’t go back. He took one last look at the town, and drove off into the wilderness.
After an hour or so of driving Max noticed there were no more trees. He saw huge areas of land filled with strange creatures. There were signs over these large areas of land with different letters. He decided to pull into one of these areas where the sign read ‘farm b.’ Curiosity often got the best of Max. He got out of the car and walked toward the gated creatures. Max had never seen anything like them. They had four legs, hooves, utters, and were white with black spots. He spotted jars next to these animals and inside was a white liquid. He smelled this substance and realized it was milk! He took a swig of the drink and thought it was the best milk he had ever tasted.
“Why can’t we get milk like this back home?” Max said out loud, wiping off his milk mustache. As he put the jar down he saw a man standing in front of him about ten yards away with a shotgun pointed straight at his face.
“Boy, what the hell you doing on my property? You infected?” “No sir! I’m from the town with Mayor George. Why do you talk with that weird voice?”
“That’s not a weird voice boy, that’s an accent.” He lowered his gun slowly and took a long at Max. “Get the hell out of here before I call the cops on you.” Before he walked away he turned back and asked, “Why would you leave anyway?”
Max told him all about how he had everything chosen for him, and how he despised it. The man said he was a farmer, and provided milk to many towns. But Max wasn’t very interested in all that. “You asked before if I was infected. Infected with what? No one in my town has ever been sick.” The farmer said it was getting late and eventually he would tell Max.
“You need a place to sleep boy? Cars aren’t too comfortable.” “I’d love that” Max replied.
The farmer showed Max to the barn and put a couple of pillows and blankets on the ground. “Isn’t much, but it’ll keep you warm.”
Max lay down on his makeshift bed in the farm that night very excited, he had tons of things to ask the farmer. Max wanted to know if there were other towns, and farms and homes. He knew he had to sleep though, so he forced himself to shut his eyes and finally fell asleep.