“If one of us has it, the other two already do,” said Judy, finishing his sentence for him.
“Right,” said Matt. “And we're just going to be wasting time sitting around here... waiting to see if we've been infected...”
“You're saying just get a move on it already?” said Judy.
“Yeah,” said Matt, nodding. “Just ignore the risk of contamination for now. Sitting around and waiting to see if we're infected is going to be too much stress anyway. Might as well stay active. So we get ready to go. We head out. See if we can make it out of the city, and then...”
“And then...?”
“And then if we've been infected, we take care of it. If we haven't, we keep going.”
“What do you mean by that? By taking care of it?” said Jamie.
“I mean taking the easy way out,” said Matt. “It's the responsible thing to do. We don't want to be a risk to others after we're infected. We'll discuss the plans once we get in the car.”
Jamie shuddered. The thought of “taking care” of herself was too much for her.
It wasn't too much for Judy. It was the only plan that made sense. She wasn't going to go out the way her son did. She didn't believe in suicide as a rule. It wasn't moral, at least as far as she was concerned. But in situations like this, then it easily could be the only path. After all, she didn't want to be responsible for more death herself, by accidentally contaminated someone else in her desperation.
“It'll probably take us about half a day to get ready,” said Matt, looking down at his watch. “Let's try to be in the car by noon.”
“So we're going to spend the next five or six hours busting our butts,” said Jamie. “Not knowing if we're going to even be alive in twelve hours? That sounds horrible.”
“Welcome to our new lives,” said Matt, glancing down the staircase at the corpses that littered the front hall. “This is our reality, whether we like it or not.”
27
Matt
It took longer than they'd thought for them to gather up the supplies in the house.
Much longer.
Matt kept glancing at his watch throughout the day, watching as the hours rolled past.
There were many reasons that it took longer than expected to get ready to leave.
For one thing, there were bodies all over the house. And something either had to be done with them, or they had to be walked over and around.
They chose the latter option, not wanting to come into any more contact with the bodies than they had to.
The other reason was that Mia had really done a number on the food stores below.
There were many things that might be useful in the basement, but it was difficult to get to them. For one thing, the basement was horribly messy.
It also just simply took a lot of time to hunt down items in the house. Judy often had an idea of where something was but wasn't quite sure. Some things she hadn't seen in years, like the hatchet that she swore was out in the shed, but turned out to be in an upstairs closet.
The three of them all worked together, but Judy, being a couple decades older than Matt and Jamie, got tired and occasionally had to take rest periods.
As they worked, there was a sort of unspoken tension between the three of them. They all had tacitly agreed not to speak about the very real possibility that they were all going to be dead within a day. There was the very real possibility that they were all infected.
There was also the possibility that something else would happen, that they'd have to face more violence very soon. If the violence didn't arrive at the house before they managed to leave, then certainly they'd encounter violence on the way out of the city.
It was almost to Matt's surprise when they'd finally gotten the car packed up and nothing had happened.
No one else had come to the house. No one else had attacked them.
In fact, no one else had even driven down the street.
The neighbors either seemed to have not gotten home from work, or to be hiding in their basements.
The sun had a few more hours left in the sky, and they were finally ready.
The car was packed.
Not just packed, but packed strategically.
They were well aware of the very real possibility of having to leave the city on foot. Therefore, they'd managed to improvise luggage that could be carried easily enough on foot, should they have to abandon the car.
Of course, it'd be better if they could bring the car with them. For one thing, many of the heavier unwieldy items would help them survive out in the high desert.
Packing had kept them busy. Kept their thoughts busy.
For a few hours, Matt had actually forgotten that they were probably all infected.
So when he saw Jamie standing there, staring at the backs of her hands, he cursed silently to himself.
And the next thing he did? Immediately looked down at the backs of his hands.
He expected the veins to be enlarged. Horribly enlarged. So enlarged that there was no doubt about his death sentence.
But to his surprise, they looked absolutely normal.
There was no mistaking it. They were the same as ever. Not in the least bit enlarged.
“They're... normal,” said Jamie.
“Mine too,” said Matt.
“What about yours, Judy?”
There was a long pause.
“Normal,” she said.
“What does this mean?” said Jamie. “Surely we must have gotten contaminated... I mean those corpses alone... half of them have enlarged veins...”
“No idea,” said Matt, shrugging. “Maybe we're immune.”
“Immune?”
“Remember when the black death wiped out two-thirds of Europe?”
“No.”
“Well, you know what I mean, though.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean. But what about it? Why bring it up? You think that many people will die now?”
“No idea,” said Matt. “But what I do know is that some people exposed to the plague were immune.”
“They were?”
“Yeah, and no one knows why.”
“They never figured it out? Even scientists today?”
Matt shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Usually the immune were the ones who ended up carting the bodies of the dead around... they were the only ones who could do it without getting sick and dying themselves... they figured it was an act of God...”
“Maybe it was.”
Matt shrugged.
“You think it's a similar situation?”
“What?”
“The black death. The plague.”
“Maybe,” said Matt. “The big difference is that there are a lot more people now... the population is many times that of medieval Europe... and society is more complex... much more reliant on technology... and all the technology seems to have failed us...”
“Right,” said Jamie, holding up her cell phone. “This is basically useless now without the networks functioning.”
“You drive,” said Judy, checking over a backpack she carried one last time. She tossed the car keys to Matt, who caught them.
“Right,” said Matt, opening the driver's side door of Judy's sedan. “Judy, do you want to... I don't know... say goodbye?”
“To my son?” said Judy, shaking her head. “No. I already have. In my own way.”
Matt nodded.
Jamie gave Matt a look. He didn't know what it meant.
He lowered himself into the driver's seat. Closed the door behind him. Hands on the wheel.
The suspension of the sedan sagged a bit as Jamie and Judy got into the car.
Judy rode in the back, Jamie in the passenger's seat.
“Everyone ready?” said Matt.
Nods and murmurs of agreement.
Matt put the key in the ignition. Cranked the engine.
It fired right up. Had a good, healthy sound to it.
The car wasn't anything fancy. But it wo
rked. And that's all they needed now.
Matt didn't know what would happen. He didn't know what the next day would bring, let alone the next week. He didn't even know what was around the next corner.
But what he did know was that he'd do everything he could to survive.
And he knew that his chances of surviving were better than they would have been if he'd been alone.
Damian and Mia had paid the ultimate price. They hadn't been prepared. But more importantly, they hadn't had the right attitude. They hadn't been mentally tough enough.
Thousands would die. Probably thousands already had.
If there was one thing Matt was sure of, it was that he was going to do everything he could to be one of the ones who lived. And he was taking Jamie and Judy with him.
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About Ryan Westfield
Ryan Westfield is an author of post-apocalyptic survival thrillers. He’s always had an interest in “being prepared,” and spends time wondering what that really means. When he’s not writing and reading, he enjoys being outdoors.
Contact Ryan at: [email protected]
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Also by Ryan Westfield
Getting Out (The EMP, book 1)
Staying Alive (The EMP, book 2)
Pushing On (The EMP, book 3)
Surviving Chaos (The EMP, book 4)
Fighting Rough (The EMP, book 5)
Defending Camp (The EMP, book 6)
Getting Home (The EMP, book 7)
Finding Shelter (The EMP, book 8)
Final Chaos (Surviving, book 1)
Final Panic (Surviving, book 2)
Final Dread (Surviving, book 3)
Escape the Virus Page 18