His arms are covered in healed scars. They’re not scratches or bite marks, he’s a cutter. They don’t know why, or what drove this boy to be this way. He’s quite young, and appears to have just entered into his teenage years. Norman thinks he’s thirteen or fourteen.
Before the outbreak Norman worked at a hospital as a doctor. This has been monumentally helpful as they try to survive the savage lands of America. Jack is a bit older than Norman, fifty-one years to Norman’s forty-seven, and he was the Executive Chef at a high class restaurant. He loves food, which has been disastrous for his taste buds, but helpful to their little group overall.
Daisy, now at thirty-eight years of age, was quite accomplished in her young life. By age twenty-three she had graduated law school and passed the bar exam, having graduated high school early at age fifteen. At the age of twenty-five she had already paid off her school debt and bought the house she financed, remaining a neighbor of Norman and Jack. She was career driven and spent little time developing a social life. Her profession focused life ended at age twenty-seven, when the outbreak hit.
The boy hasn’t spoken since they found him. His weakened state has allowed them to care for and help him. Norman recognized his symptoms as food poisoning, most likely salmonella, and a pretty nasty case of it. They still have medicines on them, though minimal, and the boy has been recovering.
Jack looks back to Daisy. He knows they can’t abandon this boy. He wipes the blood from the crowbar across the dirty shirt of the diseased who lay motionless before him.
“I’ll carry him, I guess. We can’t stay here any longer. If one made it here then others probably will too.”
Norman rubs his husband’s back. He can feel Jack shaking, even if only slightly. None of them were prepared for the surprise brought upon by this diseased. It spoke to them. They’ve never heard this before. They didn’t know the diseased were capable of speech.
It asked for help. Norman knows this will haunt him. He can only imagine how this will affect Jack, the one who put it down. Jack has kept the crowbar for safety, but he never thought about how he would feel if he had to use it. He’s shocked that he didn’t freeze up. All he could think about was the safety of Norman. When he looked into the eyes of that thing and saw nothing there he knew what he needed to do.
Jack would carry the boy for the next few hours, stopping intermittently when sickness returned to the boy. He would make the saddest noise when he felt the sickness coming back to him. It broke Jack’s heart every time. He wonders who this boy is, who he was, and how he came to be out here by himself. Judging from the state he’s in Jack figures this boy’s story isn’t a pleasant one.
The boy is dirty and putrid. He looks as if he hasn’t bathed in years, and it’s likely that he hasn’t. His hair is long and matted together in clumps, his lips are dried and cracked, his fingernails are caked with dirt and dried blood, his skin is leathery and course, his weight has decayed enough for his bones to show and his face to be sunken in, his clothes are ripped, and his shoes are worn out.
They don’t know if his parents are alive or how to find them. They don’t know if he was with a group or by himself. All they know is that this person is sick and needs help. It’s not in Norman to turn away from a person in need. Jack has always loved that about him. He’s as good natured as any person Jack has ever met.
They stay silent for most of the travel, trudging along on their journey to nowhere. Continuing on because it's all they know to do. Once the evening begins to creep in they stop and set up camp. They've found that almost nowhere is a good place to sleep, which makes anywhere as good as nothing. They always rotate sleeping in shifts, making sure that one of them remains awake to keep watch.
They've been lucky more than they haven't. They've only been attacked once before and they managed to get away without being harmed, or having to harm anything else. When the outbreak hit the disease set in quickly, which meant people became infected in their already usual habitats. Cities are a no go. Small towns were scarcely populated and the diseased rapidly moved from them to seek out more victims. These small towns are how they've managed to survive.
Norman brought a compass when they set out away from their neighborhood. He figured if they weren’t able to drive and had to travel on foot they could just head south toward the oceans. Travel the coastline and ensure they could keep a steady supply of water.
They found the coastline some years ago, only to discover they weren’t the only ones with this idea. Beaches were littered with diseased, and the shores filled with the bodies of those that had drowned trying to escape them. This troubled Norman deeply. He still sees these imagines when he closes his eyes.
From the very little time Norman has had to inspect this boy he has come to the conclusion that he is likely severely depressed and most certainly malnourished. Norman knows it’s probable he will not speak to them, will be perpetually afraid, and is, unfortunately, most likely beyond being able to convey how he needs to be helped.
This angers Norman, but more than that it saddens him. It crushes him to see a young life having already been through so much anguish. He must have been a young child when the outbreak happened. He’s never been to school, probably never had friends, never experienced a birthday party he can remember, or the child-like anticipation of Christmas, or the joy of finding money under his pillow from the Tooth Fairy.
He knows it’s likely this boy will be a problem. He will hinder their group more than he will help them. This is a disheartening reality, but a reality nonetheless. Yet, despite this, he will not leave this boy behind. Even if, in the end, his efforts will be fruitless, he will not abandon someone he can try to help.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When Rosaline was awakened by Hawaii the sun was just starting to rise. He had told her the previous night that they leave early when hunting. It will be an all day venture, just as she had anticipated.
She rubs Mikey's shoulder, “Hey buddy.” she says.
He rustles, only slightly, not yet wanting to awake.
“Hey, look at me. Just for a minute.”
He rolls over to face her. He scowls as his eyes barely part.
“Aww, I know it’s early.”
She brushes his hair back, smiling down at the wonder that is this young child.
“I’m going hunting today. I’ll be gone for a while, maybe until dark. Remember to help Rad when you finish your chores, okay?”
He awkwardly nods, his groggy state still keeping a hold on him. She leans over him and kisses his forehead. She grabs her backpack and slides the straps over her shoulders. She turns for the door and places her hand on the knob.
“Wait.” he says.
She turns back to Mikey who is rolling out of bed. He rushes to her, and wraps his arms around her waist. He looks up to her. She places her hand on his head, running her fingers through his hair.
“Be careful.” he says.
She kneels down to meet his eye level.
“I always am.”
He nods in agreement and embraces her again. His overt show of affection fills her with joy bringing forth a smile from her. “This is how every day should start.” she thinks.
“Now, go back to bed. You still have a few more hours of sleep, but don’t sleep too long.”
She watches as he stumbles back over to the bed. She waits until he pulls the blanket over him, then she exits their room.
◆◆◆
A gentle thumping on the door brings Mikey out of his sleep. It takes him a moment to realize what is happening. Someone is knocking on the bedroom door.
“Mikey? Are you awake?”
It sounds like Zee’s voice. She’s nice, he likes her.
“Yeah.” he answers.
“I’m gonna come in, okay?”
“Okay.”
The door pushes open to reveal Zee, her usual joyous smile on display.
“Sun’s been up for a while now bud. Rosaline said not to let you sleep too l
ate.”
He sits up, stretches his arms, and yawns. She laughs as he fumbles, attempting to throw the blanket off him.
“Breakfast is on the table little man.”
She disappears from sight, leaving the door open. Mikey and Rosaline sleep fully dressed, still not comfortable unless they're ready to move at a moment's notice.
Mikey enjoys the breakfast left out for him. Zee hung around in the kitchen with him for a little while then went off to continue her daily chores. No one else is in the house. Mikey has the same chores every day. He cleans the living room, the porch, and his bedroom.
It never takes him long to finish these tasks. The Family keep everything neat and orderly. Zee seems like the one that holds it all together. She tells everyone what to do, even though Hawaii is the leader. Mikey doesn't really understand this, then again he's only ever known Rosaline.
He knows he had parents, but he doesn't remember anything about them. Rosaline doesn't talk about them, unless he asks. She never talks about the past. He figures she doesn't want to remember all the bad stuff, so he doesn't ask anymore.
Rosaline is good to him, and he loves her. She takes care of him and is always trying to make him feel safe and to make him laugh. She's funny when she tries to be, he likes that. The sun is still high in the sky when Mikey finishes cleaning the porch area, his last daily chore. Zee came back before he was finished to check on him. She hung around to help him so she could take him to where Rad is.
Zee didn't stay long after they met Rad in the vegetable garden. She said she still had a lot to do. Rad is digging holes. He's already dug four.
"What're these for?"
"Tomorrow Rosaline and Sweetie are gonna go get some eggplant. These holes are where they go. Zee says we gotta transplant them fast."
"I don't like eggplant."
Mikey's response was unexpected. It halts Rad's digging. He wipes the dirt from his face as he chuckles.
"Yeah, me neither. Zee says they're good for us, and we don't have a lot of options, but I don't care. They're bad."
Rad grabs one of the trowels laying near him and extends it to Mikey.
"Come help me."
Mikey plops down on the ground on the other side of the small hole.
"Here, like this."
Rad holds the trowel up then teaches Mikey how to properly dig the hole. They sit quietly digging for several minutes. Rad is the person Mikey has interacted with the least, with this being the longest conversation they've had yet.
"So you and Rosaline really out there alone for three years?"
"Yeah."
"What was that like?"
"I don't know." Mikey replies, shrugging his shoulders.
"Do you remember living in that community before you guys were by yourself?"
"No."
"Just you and her. That must've been scary, huh?"
"Sometimes."
"You don't really like talking to people, do you?"
Mikey shrugs his shoulders again, as he keeps his head down. He hasn't made eye contact with Rad once since they started digging. This kid hasn't had any experience with people other than Rosaline. Rad suspects this entire process must be difficult for him. Even though he's not sure if he trusts Rosaline or not, he can't fault this little boy.
"Yeah, I feel you. I don't like to talking to people much myself."
Rad lets their conversation dwindle and continues digging. He doesn't want to press the kid too hard, but he feels sorry for him. He and the rest of The Family grew up together in a community and didn't have to deal with the real world for a long time. He can't imagine what he'd be like if that's all he ever knew.
"Sometimes we would be attacked and that was scary."
"Attacked by the diseased?"
"Yeah, and real people sometimes."
"That must've been rough."
"Yeah, but Rosaline kept us safe."
"By killing?"
"Sometimes. She says it's better to be not be seen."
"She's right about that."
"Sometimes she's funny and shows off."
"Shows off by killing the diseased?"
The boy timidly nods his head, “She says they're not real people so we don't have to feel bad about it. We don't like it, but we have to do it."
The hair on Rad's arms stands at attention. He can't believe the morbid words that just came out of this young boy's mouth.
"But, sometimes..."
Mikey's sentence trails off. He fidgets, moving to a different seated position.
"Hey man, it's cool. You ain't gotta talk about it if you don't want to."
Mikey bobs his head, but doesn't audibly respond. Rad thinks this is probably the first time anyone has ever asked him about this. It's clearly making him uncomfortable, but he also knows that people need to talk about things or it'll drive them crazy. He doesn't like what he's hearing from this little child.
He hadn't expected to actually care about this kid. He's fought within himself against getting to know Mikey or Rosaline, but being here with this child has moved him in a way he never saw coming. He's just a kid, and he's probably seen more death than everyone in the family combined. That's a rough start to life.
"Sometimes Rosaline has to kill the bad things. Sometimes people are the bad things. It makes her angry when people try to hurt us."
"You don't like it when she gets mad, huh?"
Mikey shakes his head, his lips scrunching to the side.
"She's scary when she's mad."
"How do you mean?"
"She hurts things."
"She ever hurt you?"
"No."
"She hurt other people? Real people?"
"Yeah, if they're bad."
"She ever hurt people that aren't bad?"
Mikey hesitates for a moment. He looks up from the hole and makes eye contact with Rad for the first time. He nods his head. His eyes break from Rad's and move back to the dirt. A chill runs up Rad's spine.
"Why does she do that?"
"She says sometimes we don't have a choice. She says people are dangerous and mean. They're only nice if they want something. We can't let them hurt us, we have to hurt them first."
Such devious words coming forth from such an innocent little child. Rad didn't trust Rosaline. Something about her rubbed him the wrong way, and now he knows why.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
He saw the way she looked at him. He suspected she didn’t believe the story he told her. Kylie is an intelligent woman, that’s always been one of his favorite things about her. It’s been a long time since he’s thought about his wife in this manner. He misses her, he misses himself. He regrets the way he’s handled their situation these past years.
That visit to Pete’s house broke him. Seeing their bodies has haunted him. Killing his nephew changed him. He felt himself becoming disconnected, becoming distant, and he didn’t stop it. He allowed his heart to grow cold. Fighting against it was too much for him.
Despite his new found nihilistic outlook he still felt a responsibility to take care of his family, and that’s what it became to him--a responsibility. It wasn’t out of love or care, it was a sense of duty. This is a realization he’d been keeping himself from having.
As he lay here now in their tent, shivering, his skin burning, his mind melting, these are the thoughts that come to him. He regrets allowing himself to become this way. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair to his family. He pushed them away. He retreated into himself and blocked out anything that made him feel.
Why did he come back to their campsite? Why did he lie to Kylie? Why is he still laying here next to them? He’s being selfish, he’s putting them in danger. He’s doing it because he’s afraid. He doesn’t want to accept what happens next.
He wasn’t attacked by a group of people. He’d become reckless lately. He knows he could’ve avoided the group of infected. There were only three of them. He could’ve gone back to his family, packed up their stuff, and moved im
mediately, but he didn’t.
Seeing the infected made him angry. They reminded of his brother, of his nephews, of his sister-in-law. He gave into his anger. He attacked them, and in doing so lost the food he had gathered. He was careless, he was selfish.
The infected scratched and cut him. He didn’t know if the disease could be transferred that way, and he was too afraid to consider it. So he lied to himself, and he lied to Kylie.
He shivers, his skin burns, and his mind melts. He is infected. He knows this now. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be near them. He should’ve left when he first started feeling it creep into his bones. He’s afraid. He doesn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want to die.
Maybe this is what happened to Pete and his family. They refused to accept the situation they were in. He can’t let that happen to his family. They don’t deserve that. He doesn’t get to be selfish, he doesn’t deserve that choice.
His insides hurt now, his head pounds, his legs twitch. The disease is working quicker than he thought it would. He doesn’t have much time left. He can feel it. He can’t do this to them. He needs to leave, and he has to do it now.
He rolls to his stomach, groaning from the pain. He tries to suppress his noise, but is only mildly successful. He pushes himself up to his knees, and takes a deep breath. An ache runs through his whole body. His muscles feel sore, as though he had been in a gym for a week with no breaks.
His shirt is wet and sticks to his body. Sweat drips from his forehead splashing onto the floor of the tent. The moonlight dimly shines in through the rip in the top of the tent. The rip Kylie had asked him to fix weeks ago. The rip he neglected. Another mistake from a man who can’t even call himself a man anymore.
He takes one last look at his wife and his son. A wife who gave up everything for her family. A wife who devoted herself to the fullest extent to him, and to their son. A wife he hasn’t come close to honoring as much as she deserves.
Patrick, his beautiful, joyous boy. He’s never met anyone who looks at the world with the wonder that he does. Even now, in the hell they live in, this boy awes at life and at nature. He likes feeling the wind flow through his clothes, he likes seeing the leaves turn colors, he likes starring up at the night sky and gazing at the stars. He finds so much worth in life. He’s the purest soul Markus has ever known.
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