Rage: A Story of Survival

by Greene, Dane

  “Listen to me. I want you to move on. You aren’t the only one who’s going to lose loved ones from this disease. You’ve talked to me so many times about your desire to help others once you reach Beaver Island. Don’t change your plans to save people like us. Let someone find a happy ending through you. Even if you save one couple, it’ll be worth living for it.”

  I’m not sure how, but she knows that, deep down, I was planning on killing myself after I killed her. Why would she make me promise to live? She loves me, so how does she not understand that without her, there’s no reason to live?

  She’s so kind. Even when dying, she still thinks about others. I could search the world a hundred times over and never find anyone as special as her. If I’m going to live, it can’t be for myself. The only way I can honor her wish is to save others, but the moment she dies, so do I.

  “Brian, one other thing: I want you to live for yourself, not others. You may want to die, or you may want to save others. I want you to promise me that your life will be more important to you than the lives of others.”

  Dawn’s intuition was always sharp. Even now, in the midst of everything, she’s reading my mind. Dawn is my world; it doesn’t matter that I’ve only known her for a few months. This disaster has brought us close, and without her in my life, I have a hard time imagining ever being happy again.

  The promise she wants me to make means I’ll have to try to become happy again. Even if I try my hardest, I don’t think I’ll feel any happiness for a long time. If it’s her dying wish, I’ll have to fulfill it, even if I don’t believe I can ever be happy again. Dawn was always better at these things.

  Dawn looks up at me. Her eyes are starting to turn red, and I know she doesn’t have long. She stares at me, waiting for an answer, and I know I have to give her one.

  “Yes, I’ll do everything, Dawn. I’ll save every person I can for you. I promise. Though I don’t ever see myself happy without you by my side, I swear I’ll try. Every morning, I’m going to wake up wishing you were in my arms, and no matter what you say, that’s never going to change. I love you, Dawn.”

  I lean over and kiss her as I say this, and despite my best efforts, tears stream down my face. Dawn smiles. She gives me a look that tells me she loves me. Her eyes were so beautiful before, but now they’re red and full of fear.

  “Brian, I’m so tired. I want one last thing from you, though.” Waiting a few seconds, I watch Dawn. “Wait until I’m asleep. I don’t want to have to know it’s coming. Going in my sleep would be so nice.”

  I nod and run my fingers through her hair, ignoring the clumps that fall out as if they’re nothing.

  “Of course, Dawn. I’ll wait till you’re sleeping. Dawn, please remember: I’ll always love you.”

  Dawn’s tears roll down my chest, and somehow, I know they aren’t all tears of sadness or fear—but of happiness. She’s scared, but I also think she’s ready for the end. Rocking her and running my fingers through her hair, I hum to help Dawn fall asleep.

  My nerves are tightening. They feel like they’ll explode. I don’t want to do what comes next. What feels like an eternity passes before Dawn’s eyes start to close. Her mouth moves, and I hear her muttering, so I lean closer to her.

  “Goodbye, Brian. I love you.”

  The tears stream down my face, and I kiss her one last time. When I’m sure she’s asleep, I lay her down and look at her one last time. She’s pale and missing clumps of hair, but to me, she’s still beautiful. Memorizing every detail of her, I burn her into my mind, knowing that whenever I go to sleep or close my eyes, I’ll see her like this.

  I pull my gun from its sheath and place it next to her head, making sure to line it up for a clean shot. The last thing I want is for my hesitation to cause her any more suffering. She’ll feel nothing. In the blink of an eye, it’ll all be over for her.

  “Goodbye, Dawn. I’ll never forget you.” My eyes want to close, but I refuse to let them. Pulling the trigger, I end Dawn’s life with a loud bang. Thankfully, I’m spared seeing her brains splatter across the concrete since I make sure to turn the other way, knowing I’m not strong enough for that sight. I rise to my feet and manage to take two steps before I throw up. It feels like I’m being torn apart. Dawn is dead. I’ll never again talk to her, laugh with her, or cry with her. Never again will I kiss, hug, or spend the night with her. We’ll never have children or a home. All I’ll ever have with her now are memories.

  Dawn deserves to be buried, but I know I can’t do that. I’m not strong enough to look at her. Not with gore and brain everywhere. I don’t want anything to mar the memory of her beauty.

  Struggling to the boat, I realize that I have to make sure she’s dead. If I don’t, I’ll spend the rest of my life thinking she lived or that I caused her pain. Taking a deep breath, I turn around and see her. If it weren’t for the blood to the side of her head, I’d think she was sleeping. Her eyes are closed, and there’s a soft smile on her face. When I check her pulse, I find none.

  Knowing the job is done, I turn from the love of my life and walk to the boat in a grief-filled stupor. When I get there, the others approach me. Melany is the first to reach me, and I tell her where Dawn is and ask her to bury her. She has tears in her eyes, but she nods.

  The others leave me alone, and I find a quiet section of the boat and collapse into unconsciousness, hoping that the stillness of sleep will give me some rest.

  Even in my dreams I find no relief. I dream of Dawn and see her lying there on the concrete, pale skin and red eyes. Over and over, she asks me why as I shoot her in the head, ending her life. The pain of having to watch her die again and again causes me to scream in pain for what seems like an eternity.

  At some point, I realize I’m no longer sleeping, and I have to force the screaming to end. The nightmares I was having seemed to last forever, but it looks like the sun has only been down a few minutes at most. My nerves are frayed and my body is exhausted, but I know better than to try and sleep.

  The others on the boat are silent. They might be grieving as well, but more likely they’re avoiding me. Even in my state, I realize how crazed I am now, and I can’t blame the others for staying away.

  With nothing else to do, I look toward the town, hoping there is a Paleman I can kill. Killing them is the only satisfying thing I can do. It may not be the carrier’s fault, but I don’t care. I want to tear apart anyone with the Paleman disease. To me, they’re no longer people; they’re the infection that killed Dawn, an infection I want to wipe out.

  There’s movement in the town, and part of me perks up in the hopes of slaughtering a Paleman. Even now, though, my rationality remains intact, and I know that any moving figures might mean danger.

  I raise the alarm. The others join me to see the incoming figures.

  When the others come, I notice that Aaron and Sophia are nowhere to be found. Only now do I realize I never stopped to think if he made it or not. Now that I see the figure in the distance, I can’t help but think it must be him. When the figure gets closer, though, I see by the way it is walking that it’s indeed a person, but it seems to be carrying a body.

  The body might be Sophia. If she was infected like Dawn, he must have chosen to spend her last moments by her side as well. Why would he carry the body all the way over here, though? It makes no sense.

  “It’s Aaron. Looks like Sophia is on his back,” Melany says, staring down the lens of her camera.

  Our group can do nothing but wait. If Sophia is dead as well, I’m not sure I can bury her. If she was infected, seeing her might remind me of Dawn. Since I can’t do anything else, I wait for them to approach.

  Why would he bring her body here? What is he doing with Sophia? She’s either dead or turned. There’s no way she could’ve made it this long without being bitten. There’s no surviving the infection, no delaying it. A single bite means certain death. If she’s still alive and infected, I have to be ready to do what he can’t.

  When
he reaches the boat, I notice that Sophia is still breathing. I ready myself for what I have to do.

  “She’s immune,” Aaron says. Is it even possible that someone can be immune? I realize then that the infection is a disease. It may be incurable, but that doesn’t mean it always infects. Just because I haven’t seen it before doesn’t mean it’s impossible to resist the disease.

  Those three words sever what remains of my nerves. My mind snaps, and I fall into a dark fog, unsure of who, what, or where I am. There is only darkness, grief, anger, and hatred. The darkness eats away at my soul, but I refuse to let it destroy me.

  “DAWN!” I scream over and over into the fog, remembering my promises to her and trying to still the rage emanating from every fiber in my body. There’s no answer, and there never will be.

  Chapter 18: Aaron

  August 23rd

  The water is calm, and I watch my reflection move as the boat glides through the water. So far, moving on the boat has been slow with spurts of movement. The boat itself has held together, but our inexperience has blinded us to many issues.

  When we first found this boat, we thought it was in great shape, but the sails are barely working and the boat sprung leaks almost as soon as we started moving. Jason was right to worry. Luckily, we haven’t run into any storms, or his fears of sinking might have been well founded.

  The boat may not be in the best shape, but it’s still moving fast enough that, even in this boat’s condition, everyone’s decided that moving along the coast was a better plan than walking.

  We all agree that it’s best to take it along the coast, but no one wants to try to sail to Garden Island. The boat needs a full, around-the-clock crew to bail out the water and keep it afloat. Even so, the lack of fear and danger from Palemen has done everyone good.

  Even if we make it to the island, I’m not sure what I want to do. Ever since the night Sophia and Dawn were bitten, I’ve felt a bit off about everything. The people that died that day were on me. True, they might have killed my friends, but they were uninfected, and it’s been tearing away at me.

  Rationalizing killing Palemen was always easy. The infected are beyond help. Rationalizing killing the uninfected hasn’t been as easy. Even though I know those men at least in part led to Dawn’s death, I still have difficulty rationalizing it.

  Who am I to play God with the lives of others? Whenever I sleep, I see the faces of those I killed, and I hear them ask me why. They tell me their stories, and I feel guilty for causing their deaths.

  The thing that sickens me most is that I don’t regret killing them. Chris no longer talks to me, but I always feel him under the surface, waiting for me to relax. One day soon, I’ll fail to stop him from breaking free, and that thought terrifies me. For now, I want to reach the island.

  My reflection in the water ripples and changes until I see Dawn’s face. It should surprise me, but I’ve been seeing her everywhere. She’s either haunting us, or it has something to do with the guilt of her death. Every time I see Brian trying to hide his pain, my guilt increases.

  The pain has almost crippled him, and I know that it’s my fault. I grew too careless. We didn’t know the town. Sending two people to search for a sail wasn’t enough. My confidence in our luck got to my head. I figured nothing could happen to us, but I was wrong.

  Brian tries to hide his pain. He still moves and acts like he’s expected to, but everyone sees the truth. Even though I see his pain, I’m amazed at how well he’s functioning. If it had been me, I doubt I could’ve done the same. If Sophia, Evelyne, or Melany were to have died, I don’t think I’d still be leading our party.

  Someone taps my shoulder, and I’m startled. When I turn around, I see Sophia. We only had the chance to talk a little since we started sailing. It’s always been with the others around, though. There’s no privacy for anyone on this boat.

  Since the night she was bitten, we’ve grown closer. I’ve been a bit scared to approach her. My feelings for her remain, but everything has been so complicated that I haven’t figured out what to do.

  “Aaron, it’s time we talked. I’m sorry I waited so long, but I wanted to think it through.” Though I have some idea what she wants to talk about, I’m a little worried all the same.

  “Sure thing. I’ve wanted to talk to you, too. I haven’t found the right time.”

  Sophia smiles, and it brings a smile to my face. It’s the first time I’ve smiled since the night Dawn died.

  “Aaron, things are complicated right now, and I don’t remember my life before things were like this. I know that I care about you, but I’ve found myself in a conundrum. While I know have feelings for you and you have feelings for me, I don’t know if we’ll both make it out of this alive. The night we had together was wonderful, but if we keep perusing things, it might affect our judgment. Our focus needs to be on the group’s survival, not each other’s.”

  A few weeks ago, I would have seen her coming off as cold. After Dawn’s death, though, keeping my head and heart clear is the best thing to do. She’s right: I need to focus on the whole group. If Sophia were hurt and I only focused on her, we could all die. I need to set aside my feelings for now. Besides, if all things go according to plan, we’ll only have to wait a few weeks at most.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea. We can’t let personal feelings get in the way of our judgment. We need to keep our wits clear. The last thing anyone wants is any more tragedy. For the record, though, I hope we both make it.”

  Sophia laughs, and I find myself smiling. We can talk all we want about what we should do, but no amount of words will change my feelings. It will be tough, but I’ll have to force myself to focus on the whole group, not only her, if we get into trouble. Sophia smiles at me and grabs my hand, holding it in hers.

  “Okay,” she says. “So I want you to tell me about your life before everything happened. In return, I’ll tell you everything that I remember. Is that a deal?”

  Nodding, I talk to Sophia about my life. She has to stop me a few times so I can explain some things from the past, like the Internet or electronics. I forgot that her amnesia makes these things seem impossible or strange to her. She’s lucky; I wish I didn’t remember the luxuries of the old world. It would make it so much easier to live in this one.

  It takes a while, but I manage to tell her quite a bit about my old life. After I finish, she fulfills her promise and tells me everything she remembers. It’s then that I realize how dark her life has been. What I thought would be a blessing is actually a curse. She may not remember the luxuries, but she has no happy memories of the past, either. Until she met our group, there was only misfortune for her.

  Until now, I didn’t realize how horrible it would be to not remember anything but the world as it is now. Chaos, anarchy, and Palemen rule the world. The only happiness for many is our memories of the easy, peaceful lives we all once lived. Part of what keeps me going is the hope that, someday, things will return to the way they were. Life is hard and bitter now, but at least I have happy memories to go back to. They give me hope for the future. They make me feel that if mankind could make it to that point once, we could reach it again.

  Sophia and I continue to talk as we go about the tasks of running the ship. With her company, it feels like minutes, but before I know it, the sun begins to set. She tells me that she starts a bailing shift soon, and I want to sleep while I can, since I drew a night shift. She kisses me goodnight, and though I’m confused why she would do that after saying we should hold off, I don’t complain.

  Knowing that I have to watch the boat in a few hours, I fall asleep. My sleep is sound until Brian wakes me. Together, we head up to the top of the ship to keep watch.

  He tells me that Jason and Melany are working on bailing the ship. After he tells me this, I notice them throwing water over the side every few minutes. As we’re making our watch rounds, I feel a headache and try to ignore it. Headaches have never been a problem for me, but in the last few days, I’ve been
getting them almost every day. It feels like something is buzzing inside my head. My attention is diverted when we make it to the ship’s wheel.

  Brian takes the helm of the ship, and Sophia, who was piloting, goes under the ship to get some rest. Keeping Brian company, we pilot the ship around a hundred yards from the shore. As the coast goes by, I keep my eyes open, scanning for boats.

  When there are stretches of land that have no docks or signs of civilization, I have time to think. As the night goes on, my headache worsens. It becomes almost unbearable. Wanting to distract myself, I start up a conversation with Brian.

  “Brian, I have a question for you.”

  Brian looks at me, and I can tell he isn’t sure what I’m going to ask. “Okay, go ahead.”

  Sensing his hesitation, I decide to try to relax him with a casual question. “If you could have any food in the world right now, what would it be?”

  Brian looks at me, and his mouth opens. I can tell he’s at a loss for words. My question caught him off guard, and it takes him a second to collect himself. A smirk appears on his face before he answers me.

  “I figured you were going to ask me about Dawn. Your question caught me off guard. If I could have anything at all, I’d have a peanut butter and banana sandwich.”

  Asking about Dawn was my original plan, but I thought better of it after detecting his hesitance. His answer is much simpler than I would have expected. When I ask myself this question, it’s always something extravagant, which makes me wonder why he chose something so simple.

  “Of all the things in the world, why would you choose that?”

  Brian takes a second, and I see a hint of a smile as he answers me. “It was always one of my favorites. I usually ate at least one a week. The last one I had was a week before the power outage. It was hard to come by any bananas after the power went out, since they have such a short shelf life. Eating one would remind me of how simple life was before all this happened.”