The Power of the Young: Dawn of an Era

by Opal Jones

  Part 2

  May 1st, 2034

  Sara followed the coyote out of the Luxor down to the still flooded streets. With nowhere to stay, she wondered where to stay, and if the Smoke would find her a new home. Then, she thought of something. It was a long-shot, but it was still barely possible.

  She keeled next to the old creature and asked him, “Do you know my old address? Surely you've seen lots of houses in your time.”

  With that, the coyote turned away and started to walk. Sara had to only assume that she had to follow him. The two went across many different streets, until they found her old home.

  Sara approached the door, unsure what to think. To get it over with, she pushed open the door.

  The home was a total wreck, to say. After years of no one living in it (aside from the cockroaches), the home looked totally disgusting. What paint was left on the walls was faded, chipped, or both. The carpeted floor was molded with God knows what and stuck together in large clumps. The cabinets were half open, with bugs crawling out of the corners, and spider webs dangling from all kinds of odd places. Chairs and couches were broken, and yet sat perfectly upright, as if waiting for owners that would never return.

  If there was any word to describe the condition of her home, the only one that would even come close is “horrifying”.

  Sara heard herself call out, “Is anybody here?” she scoffed slightly, walking in. “Yeah, stupid question.”

  As she stepped over clumps of carpet and glass, she wondered if there was any trace of her family left.

  (Now, 13 or so years isn't quite enough to fully rot a body beyond recognition. The body would only be about a quarter to half-way rotted, not making an open coffin ceremony very pleasant.)

  Soon, Sara found herself wandering down the main hallway. As she watched the ceiling, she stepped on something squishy. She dared to look down at what she had landed upon.

  Below her foot, the half-rotted corpse of her older brother still lay outstretched in the middle of the doorway. She felt herself fall back against the wall and hardly kept from screaming, but felt her hand go to mouth all the same.

  His face was ripped up with bone and red, decaying flesh visible. Gavin's outstretched hand was covered in filth and grime. Flies hovered around him, and Sara wondered how she could've not seen him when she was coming down the hall. His clothes were stained, and blood trickled down his chin from a wound above his- well maybe it was before- eyebrow.

  Sara was crying without realizing it. The horror of seeing her dead brother in that state was too much to look at. She moved against the wall, careful not to disturb the body, and went into the room across it and closed the door.

  Before she had a chance to cry in solitude, her eyes had already wondered to the bed. In it, two more corpses lay under the covers, like they had gone to sleep one night and never woke up. They looked just as bad as the other body.

  Next to the bed was a small, faded white crib. The only thing inside was a crumpled purple blanket. Sara crumbled to her knees, then felt her face become moist again, and heard herself begin to sob uncontrollably.

  After Sara left the house, she sat on top of an old highway, overlooking another road. The air was tense, and all too silent for any comfort. The coyote sat near the start of the bridge, not moving a muscle.

  Sara was too shaken to think clearly. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her every muscle ached. She crossed her arms and placed them on the edge. It had long since been dark, and had begun to rain, harder than ever.

  Never before had Sara felt so alone. She had always gone to the Smoke for comfort, or had simply talked to herself. But nothing cured the pit in her stomach that grew deeper with every passing minute. The darkness hid her distressed face, and the rain mixed with her tears.

  She thought herself to be awaiting the young boy, and he would whisk her away where they could live out the rest of their lives in safety with the other ones.

  But a thunder crash brought her mind back. Had she actually thought that something so perfect, could come to her in this wasteland? But Sara still couldn't accept that no one was out there looking for her. Up until that point, her life had been simple. But only yesterday had everything gone wrong.

  It was a ridiculously cold night, but Sara never felt a single goose bump on her skin. There was nothing but the rain, yet she listened, but no sound. No footsteps on the ground, and what did she expect? Some boy that she never met to lead her to someplace new?

  With that thought, Sara backed away from the ledge and began to run. She didn't know where, but anywhere away from this sick, sick town. Where would she go, though? Sara thought hard.

  To wherever the survivors were, that was for sure. But where were they? The better odds were to the east, since there was more ground to cover. Hopefully, Sara would live through the first 6 weeks.

  So, she found herself at an abandoned store. There were still old supplies lying around, so Sara took the advantage. She gathered canned food, a pair of hiking boots, and a 32 inch softball bat. And, just for effect, a bit of eye black.

  As the sun began to peak over the mountains, Sara walked out of the store and adjusted the backpack on her shoulders. With one last look at the sunrise, Sara began walking north-east. The coyote began to follow her, and she took him as a welcome companion.

  After only a half an hour of traveling, the two reached the outskirts of town. The coyote looked back for a brief moment, and saw the red Smoke rise from the tip of the Luxor, passing unnoticed to Sara. He knew what was asked of him, and if he died doing it, then that was the price to be paid. The animal turned back around, and followed Sara down the winding road.

  As they walked, Sara could be heard singing softly to herself, “Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me...”