by Amy Cross
“I'm fine,” I whisper, even though I'm starting to feel even more nauseous than before. “It's just... There's been so much lately. I'm getting used to it, that's all.”
“I must be three times your age,” he replies, “and I'm in better shape.”
“I'll get better,” I tell him, carefully getting to my feet. “The most important thing is your family. You've found them again.”
As those words leave my lips, Melissa looks over at us and waves.
“See?” I continue, turning to George and seeing a hint of sadness in his eyes. “That's them, isn't it? That's your daughter and grand-daughter?”
“It's them,” he replies, with a faint smile.
“So what are you waiting for?” Forcing myself to slow down a little, I lead him across to the edge of the water, where Melissa is watching as Katie paddles. “Look who I found!” I call out. “You got that miracle after all!”
Smiling, she raises one hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looks over at us.
“Katie!” I call out. “Look who's here!”
The little girl turns and looks at me, but she doesn't really react.
“It's the most amazing coincidence in the history of the world,” I continue, taking a few steps toward Melissa. “I was at the bunker, getting some more food, and then suddenly there he was! He walked here, all the way from Chicago!”
She stares at me for a moment, but finally her smile starts to fade.
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
“Your father,” I reply, glancing back at George for a moment before turning to Melissa again. “What's wrong? Aren't you pleased to see him?”
Getting to her feet, Melissa comes over to me and places the back of her hand against my forehead.
“You're running hot,” she says after a moment, seemingly more concerned about my state of health than about her father's miraculous return.
“Don't worry about that now,” I reply, “look, this is like the biggest miracle ever!” I turn to George again, but suddenly there's no sign of him. Looking around again, I realize that he's vanished completely. There's no way he could have run out of sight in just a few seconds, but as I turn again, I can't quite work out what's happening.
“You're not well,” Melissa continues, taking me by the hand. “Thomas, you're hot and sweaty.”
“He's right here,” I mutter, still looking for George. “He... I swear...”
“I think you need to sit down,” she says, clearly concerned. “That wound on your shoulder doesn't look good.”
“I'm fine,” I tell her, taking a step forward but feeling strangely dizzy. “I'm...”
“There!” Katie shouts suddenly, pointing at something in the water. “It's waving at me again!”
Blinking a couple of times, I look over and see that she's right: an arm is reaching up out of the water, waving right at me. Taking a few more steps forward, I reach the edge of the water and then wade in, making my way to the hand.
“Thomas!” Melissa calls out. “Leave it! It's not -”
Grabbing the arm, I pull it up only to discover that it's severed at the shoulder. It must have been drifting for a couple of days, and from the small marks all around the torn skin and on the protruding bone, it's clear that rats have been having a feast. Holding the arm for a moment, I suddenly start to feel nauseous. Turning to look at Melissa and Katie, I see a look of absolute shock on their faces, before I notice another figure standing a little way back from them.
“Joe?” I whisper, and then everything goes black.
***
“It's okay,” Melissa says, wiping a wet cloth across my forehead. “You're safe.”
Sitting up, I realize that several hours must have passed. The sky is dark and the air around us is much colder, although there's a small campfire crackling nearby and a pot of beans has been left next to me.
“How are you feeling?” Melissa asks. “You had me worried there.”
Turning to her, I can see the concern in her eyes. After a moment, however, I suddenly realize that I'm putting her in danger: I scramble back, making sure to get away from her.
“What's wrong?” she asks.
“Are you crazy?” I reply. “I might make you sick!”
“I think you just have an infection from your shoulder,” she continues. “I used some of the supplies from the bunker and it already looks like it's helping.”
“You don't know that's all it is,” I tell her. “It might be... I might be turning into one of those things!”
She shakes her head.
“You don't know that!” I shout.
“Mommy?” Katie calls out from the tent. “Is Thomas okay?”
“He's fine,” she replies, keeping her eyes fixed on me. “Go back to sleep, honey.”
Looking around at the darkness, I realize that there's no sign of anyone else.
“I imagined him,” I whisper finally. “He seemed so real.”
“If my father really set out from Chicago on foot,” she replies, “the odds of him getting here would be... Well, I think it'd be as close to being impossible as anything else in the world. I'm not clinging onto false hope, Thomas.”
“I really met him in Chicago,” I tell her. “I swear...”
“And I believe you,” she continues. “That's pretty miraculous in itself. But today... What you saw today was all in your mind. You were running a fever.” She dips the cloth into a bowl of water, before wringing it out and passing it to me. “I've seen people who're infected with the sickness,” she tells me, “back in Chicago, I saw it a lot. I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that you're just sick in a regular fashion. If I really believed there was any hint of it being something else, trust me, I wouldn't be letting you get so close to us right now.”
Taking the cloth, I start to wipe my face.
“I thought...” Pausing, I think back to the moment when I hallucinated George at the bunker. “I thought you'd got the miracle you wanted.”
“We're alive, aren't we?” she replies. “We have a chance of surviving. That's a lot more than most people can say. Maybe that's the miracle, and I just didn't see it until now.”
“There has to be more than surviving,” I tell her. “Things can't be that desperate.”
“We can stay here for a while and plan our next move.”
“I need to go and look around,” I continue. “You're right, I might be fine, but I might not. I found some gas canisters in the bunker, I want to use them to take the truck and just visit a few nearby towns. I'll set off tomorrow, and then I'll be back in a few days, maybe a couple of weeks... I just have to wait until I can be sure that I'm sure I won't make you sick.”
“I think you should stay here,” she replies.
I shake my head.
“I'd like you to stay here,” she continues. “Please, Thomas. Seeing you drive off... I don't know if I can handle things here with just the two of us.”
“You can.”
“Please,” she says, with tears in her eyes. “I'm scared.”
“Maybe you should stay,” Joe whispers in my ear suddenly. “I think she'd let you fuck her.”
“Go away,” I whisper.
“What was that?” she asks.
“I won't be gone long,” I continue, hoping against hope that I'm not going to hallucinate again. “I promise I won't leave you, not forever, I just -”
“Give her a quick one before you leave,” Joe hisses. “It'd be your first time, wouldn't it? She might fight back at first, but even so, no-one's gonna stop you, are they? I mean look around, you can do anything you want and there's no-one to stop you.”
I open my mouth to reply to him, before realizing finally that it's not really him at all. The real Joe used to say some pretty foul things, sure, but he wasn't a complete psychopath and I know he'd never tell me to actually hurt someone. I guess my fevered mind is just pushing me, trying to make me break, and I have no control over some of the darker thoughts. Taking
a deep breath, I watch as the light from the campfire flickers across Melissa's face, and I allow myself a faint smile despite the pain in my shoulder.
“I'll stay for tomorrow,” I say eventually, “just to make sure you're okay, but the day after... I have to go, at least for a little while.”
“Katie's in the tent,” she says after a moment, clearly disappointed. “Why don't you and I go for a little walk? Just along the shore for a few minutes. I mean, if it is one of your last nights for a while...”
“We should both sleep.”
“I want you to come back.”
“I will,” I tell her, “and then we can go for a walk or whatever, but... I have to see what's out there first, and I have to be certain that I'm not a danger to you.”
“Okay,” she says quietly, with a half-smile. “I guess I'll go in with Katie, then. There's not much room, but -”
“I'll be fine out here.”
“Promise you won't leave without saying goodbye.”
“I promise.”
She pauses, before leaning over and kissing me on the cheek, and then she crawls into the tent. Taking another deep breath, I turn and look out at the darkness, and I listen to the sound of the lake lapping at the shore. I know Melissa thinks that my shoulder's not a big problem, but I swear the pain is deeper and darker than anything I've ever felt before. Something's wrong, deep in my body, and I can feel it slowly getting worse.
After I leave in a couple of days' time, I don't think I'll make it back.
Elizabeth
Making my way up the stairs, with only a torch to light my way, I can't help thinking back to everything my father said to me earlier. I still find his ideas and his plans abhorrent, but I can feel myself slowly starting to doubt my own position. By the time I get to my room and let myself inside, I can hear his words ringing in the back of my mind:
“Don't worry, Lizzie. You'll see things my way eventually. It's all a part of growing up.”
Maybe this is how it starts. I hated his ideas when I first got to Boston a few days ago, but now I'm slowly seeing the reasoning behind some of them. By the end of the week, I guess I might be fully on his side.
Pushing the door shut and turning the handle to make sure it's locked, I make my way to the table and set the torch down. Exhausted, I start unbuttoning my shirt, figuring that tomorrow I can -
Suddenly I hear a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” I ask cautiously.
“It's me,” a female voice replies. “It's Natalie, from this morning. Remember?”
I pause for a moment, genuinely surprised. “It's kind of late. What do you want?”
“Can I come in?”
“Um...” I want to tell her to go away, but at the same time I'm curious. Buttoning my shirt back up, I grab the torch and head back over to the door. “Sure,” I mutter, pushing the handle in and turning it, before opening the door, “but I just -”
“I'm sorry!” she blurts out, before suddenly she's pushed against me and we both fall down onto the floor.
“What the -” Before I can get up, I see a flash of movement as the door is pushed shut, and a fraction of a second later a rifle is aimed straight at my face.
“Make one sound,” the man says firmly, “and you're both dead.”
Day 59
(Mass Extinction Event 4.6)
Thomas
“So how long exactly do you think you'll be gone?” Melissa asks as I load a couple more canisters of gas onto the back of the truck. “One week? Two?”
“About that,” I mutter, not wanting to be too specific. The truth is, I didn't sleep at all during the night and now the pain in my shoulder is worse than ever. She made me take some meds from the stockpile, but I put them back when she wasn't looking, along with some of the food she wanted me to have. She and Katie need those supplies way more than I do, and I figure there's a good chance I won't live long enough anyway.
This is all I can do for them now.
“And you're sure you want to go today? You said you'd wait until tomorrow -”
“I know, but -” Before I can finish, I start coughing; it takes a moment before I can get any more words out. “I had a bad night. I really just want to get going and not risk exposing you guys to whatever I've got.”
“I keep wanting to tell you to call or write,” she continues, “but then I remember how stupid that is. I guess old habits die hard, don't they?”
I force a smile, but all I want is to get going. I hate goodbyes.
“You really will come back, won't you?” she continues.
“I told you, didn't I?”
“You don't look like you mean it.”
“I mean it,” I reply, watching for a moment as Katie plays at the water's edge. “The only thing that would keep me from coming back would be if I -”
“You don't need to say that part,” she tells me, cutting me off before I can finish.
“I'll come back if I can,” I add. “I promise. Word of honor, cross my heart, all that stuff. And I'll -”
Before I can finish, she leans closer and hugs me, and after a moment I realize she's crying. Taking a deep breath, I try to think of something I can say that'll make her feel better, but I figure there's not much that'll be any use. All I can do is get going, and remind myself that she and Katie are going to be just fine. They'll certainly have a better chance without me.
Glancing over at Katie, I raise a hand, to wave goodbye. She does the same.
Elizabeth
“I'm fine,” I reply, struggling to keep my voice steady as I speak to him through the closed door. “Tell my father I just... Tell him I had a bad night, so I want to sleep a little longer.”
“He's not going to like that,” Charles replies. “He thinks everyone should be up with the sun. Are you sure you don't want to -”
“I'll be up in a few hours,” I continue, trying desperately to get him to leave as I feel the rifle poking into the back of my neck. “I swear. Just give me a few hours, that's all.” I wait, hoping against hope that he won't try to come into my room again. “It's girl trouble,” I add finally. “You know, time of the month...”
“Oh.” There's a faint shuffling sound from the other side of the door. “Well, okay, sure. I'll tell him.”
Holding my breath, I listen to the sound of footsteps heading away from the door, and finally I hear him entering the stairwell.
He's gone.
Turning, I find myself staring straight into the rifle.
“I did it,” I stammer, trying not to sound like I'm panicking. “See? He left.”
The man keeps the gun aimed squarely at my face. It's been several hours since he burst into my room, and he's barely said a thing since other than to tell Natalie and me to stay quiet and sit on the bed. We haven't even dared talk to each other; instead we've just been waiting, and I don't know about Natalie but I've been watching for some hint of a weakness. So far, however, the guy seems totally in control, and as he paces over to the door and back again, I feel as if he's just waiting for any excuse to execute us both.
“Shit,” he mutters finally as he stops at the window, looking out for a moment.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Did I tell you to talk?”
“No, but it's been hours and...” I glance at Natalie and see the fear in her eyes. Turning back to the guy, I can tell that he's scared too, albeit in a very different way. “Other people are going to come to the door,” I continue finally, figuring that keeping quiet isn't going to work in the long-term. “That's just a fact. I'm telling you now, in an hour or two there'll be another knock.”
“You can tell them to go away again.”
“And then they'll come back later,” I point out. “Eventually someone's going to realize there's a problem.”
I wait, but he seems to be watching something out the window.
“You're one of the ones who broke in, aren't you?” I continue.
He turns to me.
“The other day... They said six people broke through the barrier, and they weren't sure whether the last one had -”
“Shut up!” Natalie hisses.
“What?” I reply, turning to her. “It's true!”
“They killed them,” the guy says suddenly. “They shot the others in cold blood. I saw it happen. It was like an execution.”
“I'm sorry,” I tell him.
“Are you?” He stares at me for a moment. “Well that makes it all feel better.”
“If you -”
“One of them was my brother,” he continues, stepping over to me and aiming the gun at my face again. “He was only nine fucking years old and they made him kneel with the others and then they shot them all in the back of the fucking head!”
I open my mouth to reply, but no words come out. In my mind's eye, I see five figures being executed out there in one of the abandoned streets, and I can only imagine the horror of that moment.
“What's your name?” I ask eventually.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Natalie hisses.
“I just want to -”
“Shut up, both of you,” the guy says, turning the gun toward Natalie for a moment. “I swear to God, if you two start arguing...”
We fall silent, although I can see from the look in Natalie's eyes that she's angry at me.
“This fucking place,” the guy says, looking back out the window for a moment. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” He pauses, as if he's still watching something that's happening outside, before turning to me. “Do you really want to know my name?” he asks finally.
“I...” Pausing, I realize that the question seems loaded, as if it's a challenge.
“Think carefully before you answer,” he continues. “Right now, you don't know my name and I don't know yours. If we start telling each other our names, everything changes. I mean, when you know what someone's called, that makes things different.”
“I don't want to know your name,” Natalie stammers. “Why don't you just take whatever it is that you want and then leave?”
“Take what I want?” he asks, with a faint smile. He takes a few paces toward her. “What do you think I want?”