“They tried to fend off the virus,” Jason said with enthusiasm. “They had guards.”
Nora only nodded. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to tell him that meant nothing. She didn’t want to squash his hopes.
The gate was a bust. They had to find another way in. Jason knew a back way. A wall did not encircle the entire property. On the outskirts of the community, all around it, was a forest planted by the developers to add a lush look and a natural privacy. It was better than a cold hard wall. On foot they made their way to the east side of the community. Jason told Nora they’d make their way up the Bowens Family backyard and to Main Street.
As if she knew who the Bowens were.
Nora couldn’t believe the homes.
They’re all the same, but different shades of white and brown. All of them modern all with long winding driveways. They must of each cost upwards of six figures, more than likely seven.
“There.” Jason pointed up the road. “That’s my home.” He stopped walking, put his hands on his knees, and bent over slightly, with his head cocked gazing outward.
“You okay?” Nora asked
“Just taking a moment.” Jason said. “I’m frightened.”
“You need to make yourself a promise right now.”
Jason stood upright. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… I mean you need to face the fact that everything just may not be alright.” Nora cringed when she said that, waiting for backlash.
“I am.”
“Are you?” Nora asked. “I don’t mean to sound cold, or callous, but I am getting prepared myself. You should, too.”
“Why would you think I’m not?”
“Not saying you aren’t prepared. I’m not saying that you aren’t ready. I’m just making sure, does it make sense?”
“No. It sounds pessimistic.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” Nora lifted her hands in a surrender move. She said no more. She didn’t say what she wanted to say. If she did, it would be to tell him, ‘Take a look around. Do you see anyone? Is anyone living here? Look at the grass.’
Didn’t Jason notice the grass?
It was high. Too high, four to five feet some areas and Nora was pretty certain those bushes weren’t planted by the owners of the home. They were new. They had grown in the world void of people.
Jason began his journey towards his house. At first he moved slowly, then as he rounded the bend of a cul-de-sac, he began a quicker jot. He sprinted straight up the jungle of a yard, to the front door. Nora caught up to him. She looked around. She assumed it was his home. The grass was very high. The windows were dark with dirt, the drapes were drawn. The front door was cracked from the weather and vines and weeds grew all around the archway.
Jason reached for the handle and turned it, it was locked. All it took was one good shove with his shoulder, and the door blasted open, cracking in several pieces. He turned around and looked at her over his shoulder with a smile. “I feel like the Hulk.” And then he went inside.
Nora was hesitant but she followed him in. The door led into a foyer and she stood there looking around. A wide staircase was in the center and extended upward to an open upper interior landing of the huge home.
“Melissa!” Jason yelled as he charged up the steps. “Melissa!”
If he were to find them, he had to do it on his own. Nora checked out the foyer. Boxes lined the hallway. Some marked as water, some marked as food. From where she stood she could hear Jason moving around upstairs and she could see the kitchen ahead of her. She walked in the direction of the kitchen, everything was so dusty. Just as she made it to the kitchen archway, she paused. There was a small table in the hall and on it was a picture of a beautiful woman with long hair, holding a little girl that looked to be about three. The little girl had to be Daisy. That’s what Jason said her name was.
As soon as Nora stepped into the kitchen she saw the medication on the counter, the empty pill bottles, the dishes.
The well preserved home was remarkably tidy, sans the dust and dirt that gathered through the years. But the kitchen was a mess. Totally disabled. Cabinets open. There was food in the cabinets, indicating it wasn’t looters. It reminded Nora of the time that her and Rick in the girls were sick with the stomach flu. How they just wandered around the house not caring if it messed up. Pepto-Bismol on the counter in the kitchen and it reminded Nora of that time.
Someone in the home was sick. She turned back around to head towards the living room. Jason came down the stairs.
“There are no bodies upstairs,” Jason said with a gasp of relief. “Thank God.”
Nora remained silent.
Jason walked into the living room and Nora followed. The furniture in there was covered with plastic, on the mantle were photographs and Jason want to the mantle. He stood before them with a puzzled look on his face.
“What is it?” Nora asked. She stepped closer to him
Jason ran his fingers over the photographs, clearing the dust from the frames to expose the faces. “Who is this man?”
As if Nora would possibly know, she took the photograph and looked at the man and a little girl. “Do you know the little girl?”
“No. I mean it could be Daisy, a little older.” Jason said. “But who is the man? Maybe she sold the house.”
Nora grabbed another dust cover photograph and cleared the film. It was a photograph of Jason. She handed it to him. “You’re in the right house.”
Jason took a third photo from the mantle, and cleared the dust. Nora didn’t need to hear the gasp when she saw the expression on his face. She peered over his shoulder to see the photograph. Jason wasn’t in it. It was a woman, Melissa, a toddler girl and the same man. They posed like a happy family with Easter baskets.
“This is good. This is very good.” He smiled at Nora. “She remarried.”
“Okay.” Nora was confused.
“No think about it. She remarried. This is Daisy. She’s about one year old. The virus was released three months after we were put in stasis. Which means she outlived the virus. They had an Easter. Which was the same time we were supposed to get out of stasis. Things were bright here in this neighborhood. Or at least in this area.”
Nora moistened her lips. Her mouth was dry. Jason had a point. The little girl had grown. If it indeed was Daisy, and Jason should know his own daughter, then they did beat the first wave of the virus. But where were they?
Yet, another question popped into Nora’s mind, if things were all that fine in Kentucky at least, why did they hit the reset button? Someone hadn’t told them the whole truth.
“They covered the furniture. They beat the virus. They went somewhere.” Jason said. “We just need to…”
His words trailed as his eyes widened. Nora drew a curious look. “Jason?”
“Oh my God.” He said airily and brushed by her, seemingly in shock. “Oh my God.”
Nora didn’t get to ask. She spun around to see him race from the living room through the dining room, and to the double French doors. He shoved on them until they opened and he raced outside to the yard.
From what she could see the yard was not that big, there was a pool. But the patio and what little yard there was, was completely overgrown except for… three small white crosses. Or they used to be white. The weather had worn them, causing most of the color to be gone, and the wood eroded. All of her breath escaped her. For a moment, a split moment, Nora had been drawn into optimism, and that was crushed when she went outside. As she arrived Jason had dropped to his knees and began to frantically pull the grass and the weeds that had grown around the white crosses.
“No.” Jason said sadly. “No.”
Quietly and softly Nora walked to him. She folded her arms to her body. Her voice was whispering, “Jason.”
He pounded his fist hard to the ground, shoulders bounced and then he looked over his shoulder at her with a devastating expression on his face. “They’re gone.” Jason indicated t
o the crosses. Each had a name deeply engraved on it. Three female names. Candy, Melissa and Daisy. “Whoever that man was, he is not in one of these graves,” Jason said with sadness. “He was the one that probably buried my family.”
<><><><>
They were useless. That was what Meredith told John and Grant as the reason that she left the documentation behind. Pages upon pages of names and numbers. None of them were from the area so the chances of their family being on that list were slim to none. Other than the color-coded flags and a few dates, the information was a waste of time.
John was glad to hear some information. That perhaps some people had survived. But it couldn’t be proven by him. The one thing he was certain of was, there was no way, no how, that they were making it to Washington DC by the end of the day.
Just as the sun began to set, and the vehicle cranked out the last of its power, John pulled over to the side of the road a mere twenty miles from Washington DC.
“This is bullshit,” Grant blasted. “I don’t understand why we’re going to Washington DC anyhow.”
John explained, “Because if we’re going to find any answers, if by chance your family is not around, then DC offers us an opportunity to learn something.”
“It was the nation’s capital.” Meredith said. “I know that sounds cheesy, but if anything happened as far as war, it happened there. If anything happened in the plan for trying to save the world, it happened there.”
John added, “Plus their records, and the Smithsonian Institute is there.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Grant asked.
“I don’t know about you, but I would like a little bit of history from when I was on this earth. When I lived my full life. If we are in the future, then we should secure some of the past. “John said.
“I agree,” said Meredith.
“There’s something wrong with both of you,” Grant complained, “I just want to get home. And it’s not a good idea to set up camp here.”
John tossed out his hands. “What do you expect us to do? Where do you expect this to go? The buggy is done for today.”
“Then, as long as it’s still light out, we should walk to a safer location spend the night.” Suggested Grant. “Maybe even hide the buggy if we can.”
“Are you nuts?” John left already Joe. “Hide the buggy? Walk to a safer location?”
Grant nodded. “Yeah, look around, something is not right.”
Again, John laughed. Almost scoffing.
“John,” Meredith called his name softly. “He’s right.”
“You too?”
“Seriously, John,” Meredith said. “Take a look around.”
Up went John’s hands and they fell against his thighs with a slap. “I’m looking.”
“What do you see?” Meredith asked.
“Nothing,” answered John. “What am I missing?”
Grant spoke up, “what don’t you see? It’s something we saw everywhere.”
Meredith answered. “John, life. There’s no life.”
John chuckled. “No shit. The virus wiped out the world. We’re pretty much extinct.”
“No.” Meredith said softly. “Human beings aren’t the only life. Again, look around, where is the life?”
John was at his wits end. He thought they had gone mad. Was he missing something? Apparently he was and when he looked around ready to ridicule them once more. He saw they were right. There was no life. Life, meaning trees, grass, even weeds. It was something so visually commonplace that John grew used to it. But right there outside of Washington DC, there was nothing. For the first time in the journey. Anything green with life that surrounded them up to that point, was no longer there. The grass the trees, everything… Was dead
<><><><>
It was by far the weirdest dream that Malcolm could ever recall having. It was a conglomeration of old and new. In it he had taken his sons, Sam, Daniel, and Trey skiing for the weekend. None of them were very good and most of their weekend was spent playing in the snow and hanging out by the fire. The dream started out as more of a memory. It was of the latest trip they had taken the mountains to ski. Jennifer his wife was having “female” problems. And Malcolm, being very courteous and the sensitive husband that he was, decided it was best for him to leave the house. He took the boys and gave her the weekend off. They had a blast that weekend. Trey barely fought with him at all. The only time that Trey did fight with him was to give more money to play video games in the lobby, because Malcolm refused to bring the video game console. That was the dream. Eating barbecue wings and ribs by the fire, still damp from playing in the snow.
Then the dream turned from reality and memory to nightmare. The window in the cabin crashed open, bringing in blowing snow at the same time the rerun of Full House turned into the emergency broadcasting system.
This is an emergency, the announcer stated, the dead are rising.
How ridiculous, Malcolm thought in the dream. The dead don’t rise.
He remembered in the dream, looking over to his youngest son, Sam. He was really little. He sat on the floor legs crossed Indian style, with the saddest eyes looking up the Malcolm,
“Don’t let the monsters get me, Daddy.” Sam cried. “Please, Daddy.”
“No, Sam,” Malcolm told his son. “There are no such thing as monsters.”
“Dad,” Trey said sternly. “There are monsters. They’re out there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Malcolm argued. “You’re scaring your brother.”
“Why don’t you ever believe me?”
“Why must everything be a fight with you?” Malcolm yelled.
Then, Daniel screamed. With that, the walls collapsed in a barrage of walking, rotting, dead cascaded into the room, arms extended hungrily.
Trey yelled out, “See? I was right.”
They were being invaded by carnivorous creatures and all Trey could do was make his point. Focused on Trey, he noticed that Daniel stopped screaming. Malcolm turned only to see the corpses tear his son apart. The young child was lifeless, his limbs and insides dangled from his body.
Sam kept crying out, “Daddy! Daddy!” But Malcolm couldn’t see him or find him.
“Where are you?” Malcolm asked. “Sam, answer me.”
Malcolm tried to move in dream, but it was difficult, the zombies grabbed for him, reaching for his arms and head.
“Dad! This way!” Trey called out.
“Your brother. Your brother. I have to help your brother.” Malcolm said, his heart raced and it felt so real.
“Dad.” Trey’s voice faded, it was further away.
What to do? Where to go? Malcolm desperately searched for Sam, but couldn’t find him. He cried in that dream, his heart aching and screaming out for Daniel who was torn apart.
After feeling a rush of cool breeze, Malcolm saw the door to the cabin was open. Trey must have run out there, he thought. And then Malcolm, too, with no choice raced out that door.
He could see his son in the distance. The snow came up to Trey’s midsection. Yet the teenager kept trying to run. He kept waving his arm to Malcolm to hurry up. The snow was hindering Malcolm. He tried lifting his legs high, trying to move in that snow. He got cold, very cold. The snow pelted him in the face and his body froze, and shivered. He couldn’t believe how cold it was, and as he tried to take another step, he felt the pain in his arm and he looked to see one of the walking dead gnawing on his flesh.
“No!” Malcolm screamed out. “No!” He pulled his arm away and when he did, Malcolm sat up, waking from the dream.
How much of that dream was part subconscious, and reality? He was cold. Freezing cold. In fact, his body trembled out-of-control with the shivers. What was wrong with him? His head pounded and ached. The bite he received in the dream still hurt him. Why? Then Malcolm remembered the injury. The one he received while removing the barricade. He looked at his arm. It felt as if it were swollen twice its size, and the flesh was hot to touch. The s
lice that would have needed stitches in the old world, was seeping. The bandage was damp. It was too dark to see. Malcolm knew by the feel of his arm, how cold he felt, he was feverish. He had an infection. He should’ve taken the time to fix that arm and clean it, but he didn’t. He had other things on his mind. Malcolm hardly thought about anything of the world. It really wasn’t that bad. Infection never crossed his mind. As he wrestled with the sleeping roll to try to warm up, Malcolm also thought of one other thing that it could possibly be.
The virus. What if it were still in the air? What if it was still viable out there? So much went through his mind, he couldn’t process it, but one thing was for sure infection or virus, Malcolm was without a doubt, very sick.
Nora’s ENTRY
DAY THREE AR
Time.
In my life I always thought how valuable time was. I always needed time for this, for that, never did I realize that at one point in my life, time would not be an issue. That I would be afforded so much of it that I couldn’t process it. That was how I felt. When Jason asked for more time to stay home before we moved on, I couldn’t argue. I was always asking for more time. He was devastated. All we could tell was that his family died. There was an extra grave, a female. In my mind, Melissa had another baby. We searched the entire house. At least I did. I was looking for clues and answers to who this man was. It was obviously Melissa’s new husband.
They were newly married when the virus broke out. In fact, from what I saw. Melissa wasted no time getting married after Jason’s supposed death.
Maybe they rushed to the altar because in the thick of things, this virus was ravaging the world. Maybe they thought, hey, let’s make the best of what we have left in this life.
Her getting remarried did not seem to bother Jason much at all. I found that very chivalrous. Because I myself would be not only devastated, I’d be pissed if Rick remarried that fast after my passing. Jason was more forgiving. He held high hopes, but I actually began to think that he started to relinquish those hopes to reality the closer we drew to his home. Grasping at life’s last little straws when he saw his neighborhood.
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