by Bryan James
I was firmly, deeply in love with Kate, but I missed seeing Maria sometimes. She had been my wife, but she would always be my friend. I would always harbor the suspicion that there was something that I could have done. Some way that I could have prevented what happened.
I thought about Rhodes, who had chosen to stay behind. I wished him the best, and knew he would be an asset if he could move past his own demons. It wouldn’t be easy, but if I could do it, so could he.
I thought about the fortress, and the soldiers. About our chances as a nation.
And then I realized, as I looked at my family, who I had grown to love more than anything in the world, that I didn’t much care. We had done our part. We had delivered what we could. And now, we were doing what we needed to do.
We had asked for a ride to the city limits, and had put down in a small parking lot of a suburban big box store. Finnigan had asked us to stay. To help them expand, and take back more of the city and the countryside. Seattle could be remade, he said.
We could be part of it, he said.
We didn’t care.
We had weapons, and we had food and water.
But more importantly, we had somewhere else to be.
So we thanked him and his crew, and we went north.
The world would get on without us. The fort was well on its way to clearing its perimeters, and the country—the world—had its formula. In the process of saving humanity, we had changed it. We knew that. From today forward, the face of humanity would be forever changed.
We would be part of it, but not in Seattle. Nor in Washington D.C.
We knew that the men and women of our nation would continue to fight. And because of what Doctor Kopland had done for all of us, they had a chance. We all had a chance.
Humanity could survive.
We would be different.
Everything would change.
But we would be alive.
I wondered briefly at whether we deserved to live or not. As a species, we had created this plague. We had developed it as a weapon to feed our paranoia and our quest for power. We had almost ended ourselves as a result.
Did we deserve to live?
It was a question that could only be answered by our own persistence. Our own refusal to die.
We deserved what we got. And today, it might not be extinction.
Today, it was redemption.
I held my hand out to the dying ray of sunlight that peaked through the weathered wood of the small shed.
For how long? And in what form were we redeemed?
That was yet to be seen.
I pulled my hand back, shaking it briefly to cool the burn.
“I don’t know why you do that,” Kate said, glancing over as she finished her water and stood up.
“I keep hoping that it will get better,” I said, staring at my hand.
She looked at the door, where the chain rattled softly. She sighed, knowing that there was at least one of them out there. There seemed to be fewer of them now, and those that had not been drawn to the herds in the cities were thin and hungry. We were in little danger traveling through the country, and on the back roads paralleling the interstates.
“It’s as good as it’s going to get,” she said, tossing her pack into the back seat of the truck and closing the door. She ruffled Ky’s hair, and opened the driver’s side door. “I think it’s time to move.”
I nodded, making short work of the eggs, and throwing the cooking gear into the bed of the truck, where a plastic bin held our dishes and utensils. I sealed the soft cover liner and threw my sleeping bag in the back. Ky jumped in the back seat after watching Romeo leap gracefully into his bed of towels and blankets behind the driver.
He grunted once, as if objecting to having to ride rather than run.
Slowly, I pulled the chain back from the doors, and walked back to the truck.
Kate edged the machine forward and nosed the doors softly, pushing them open and into the evening air. A body fell heavily on the ground and we didn’t pause to look at it.
It was in the rearview mirror soon enough.
Three miles brought us to the interstate—a rare detour for us, made necessary in order to go around a missing bridge. Pulling onto the northbound lane, I couldn’t help but reach over and put my hand on Kate’s shoulder. We passed under a large green sign as she smiled at me, and I took a deep breath, removing my sunglasses as the sun finally dropped below the western horizon and the text above disappeared in the gathering darkness behind.
“Vancouver, Canada 48 miles.”
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Table of Contents
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-SIX
FORTY-SEVEN
FORTY-EIGHT
EPILOGUE