Prologue

Somewhere in the near Future...

The orange and yellow leaves on the trees were reminding him that it was autumn, and confirming that it has been a whole year since his journey began. He marked off the date on the small calendar. It was October 1st, the one year anniversary of his travels following the railroad.

As usual he didn't know where he was, and didn't really care too much, but sometimes the feelings of curiosity would kick in.

It was a warm autumn wherever he was. Wasn't too cold, not too warm, a perfect balance. This was good, he didn't have to put on his cool weather gear at the moment. He put away the calendar into his tactical backpack. It was time to keep going. Based on the position of the sun it was probably nine in the morning.

He put on his backpack, picked up his ak-47 rifle, double checked his surroundings to make sure he wasn't missing anything. On the ground beneath was nothing that he needed, just the two opened cans of food that were consumed by him. He was wearing tactical clothing, black boots, black pants, and a black jacket. He was ready to leave, but someone else was missing. His friend.

"Wilson!" he shouted as he was looking at one of the bushes. Wilson came out running towards him. In a very monotone voice he said "Good boy Wilson, good boy." He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a snack for Wilson to eat. He then petted the blue nosed American Pitbull Terrier on the head.

"It's Time go boy." The journey continued.

The Railroad Man headed east.