wandered aimlessly without any real concern for her destination. In truth, she no longer cared if she made it anywhere at all—she had given up.
* * *
While the fall of the civilized world at the hands of the merciless plague was difficult and unpleasant, she managed to cope remarkably well, and accepted it for what it was. This was infinitely easier because her husband, Sean, was by her side providing emotional and moral support. The instant they had realized what was happening, they fled their home, and fell into a routine for survival that served them well amidst the chaos of the collapsing world around them. Despite the fact that they had never considered such a globally catastrophic event possible, and thus had been totally unprepared, they were resourceful people and adapted quickly. They never stayed in one place for long, moving only short distances during the daylight hours so they could maintain maximum awareness of their surroundings. They scoured the houses and small businesses they encountered along the way taking only the bare minimum required for survival in order to remain relatively unhindered, and thus more mobile. While they knew supplies would eventually become scarce, they still remained relatively plentiful in a country where abundance and excess had been the rule—provided you knew where to look.
Sean’s family owned a small, isolated cabin about a hundred miles away, and their plan was to head there. As they drew closer, they intended to start collecting more supplies in hopes of stocking the cabin as a long-term shelter. What they could not carry, they would hide so they could come back for it at a later date. The trek proved to be a grueling endeavor, but their 10-year old son, Aaron, displayed remarkable courage and resilience throughout the journey. She marveled at how well he handled the immense hardships thrust upon him. Although she could not have been more proud, she knew Aaron’s courage was fragile, and she vowed to remain strong for his sake.
For nearly two weeks they survived and subsisted while so many others perished. In as much as it was possible, they remained a happy family. All that changed two days ago.
She and Aaron kept watch for Sean, who was scavenging for food and supplies in the two-story house across the street. Like so many times before, they had investigated the exterior of the house for signs of trouble. Peering through the unbroken windows, they watched for signs of any infected lurking within. Seeing none, Sean prepared to head inside while his wife and son took up position across the street.
Silently, Sean defeated the locks on the back door, slipping inside with an uncanny degree of stealth for a man untrained in such tactics. His former occupation as a locksmith had proven far more useful than he would have ever anticipated. Once inside, he tapped his only weapon, the heavy four-foot wooden walking stick, against the kitchen’s hard tile floor. For a full two minutes, he listened intently without making the slightest movement aside from the periodic tapping. If he heard any sound at all, he would simply make a silent exit the same way he entered the house, and they would move on to the next location. They took no chances.
Having watched scores of people try and fail to combat the infected, he realized early on that the best strategy—the only foolproof way to stay alive—was avoidance. Speaking to his wife on that point previously, he had said, “Even a low chance of getting bitten is still too great a risk when you’re talking about an incurable disease with 100% mortality.”
No matter how adept a man was at fighting them, fate could transpire against him at any moment. An untied shoelace might lead to a fall, then a bite—dead. A gun jams, then a bite—dead. A sudden turn results in a sprained ankle, then a bite—dead. With a 100% rate of infection as far as anybody knew, one bite was all it took.
Ears trained for any hint of danger lurking in
* * *
While the fall of the civilized world at the hands of the merciless plague was difficult and unpleasant, she managed to cope remarkably well, and accepted it for what it was. This was infinitely easier because her husband, Sean, was by her side providing emotional and moral support. The instant they had realized what was happening, they fled their home, and fell into a routine for survival that served them well amidst the chaos of the collapsing world around them. Despite the fact that they had never considered such a globally catastrophic event possible, and thus had been totally unprepared, they were resourceful people and adapted quickly. They never stayed in one place for long, moving only short distances during the daylight hours so they could maintain maximum awareness of their surroundings. They scoured the houses and small businesses they encountered along the way taking only the bare minimum required for survival in order to remain relatively unhindered, and thus more mobile. While they knew supplies would eventually become scarce, they still remained relatively plentiful in a country where abundance and excess had been the rule—provided you knew where to look.
Sean’s family owned a small, isolated cabin about a hundred miles away, and their plan was to head there. As they drew closer, they intended to start collecting more supplies in hopes of stocking the cabin as a long-term shelter. What they could not carry, they would hide so they could come back for it at a later date. The trek proved to be a grueling endeavor, but their 10-year old son, Aaron, displayed remarkable courage and resilience throughout the journey. She marveled at how well he handled the immense hardships thrust upon him. Although she could not have been more proud, she knew Aaron’s courage was fragile, and she vowed to remain strong for his sake.
For nearly two weeks they survived and subsisted while so many others perished. In as much as it was possible, they remained a happy family. All that changed two days ago.
She and Aaron kept watch for Sean, who was scavenging for food and supplies in the two-story house across the street. Like so many times before, they had investigated the exterior of the house for signs of trouble. Peering through the unbroken windows, they watched for signs of any infected lurking within. Seeing none, Sean prepared to head inside while his wife and son took up position across the street.
Silently, Sean defeated the locks on the back door, slipping inside with an uncanny degree of stealth for a man untrained in such tactics. His former occupation as a locksmith had proven far more useful than he would have ever anticipated. Once inside, he tapped his only weapon, the heavy four-foot wooden walking stick, against the kitchen’s hard tile floor. For a full two minutes, he listened intently without making the slightest movement aside from the periodic tapping. If he heard any sound at all, he would simply make a silent exit the same way he entered the house, and they would move on to the next location. They took no chances.
Having watched scores of people try and fail to combat the infected, he realized early on that the best strategy—the only foolproof way to stay alive—was avoidance. Speaking to his wife on that point previously, he had said, “Even a low chance of getting bitten is still too great a risk when you’re talking about an incurable disease with 100% mortality.”
No matter how adept a man was at fighting them, fate could transpire against him at any moment. An untied shoelace might lead to a fall, then a bite—dead. A gun jams, then a bite—dead. A sudden turn results in a sprained ankle, then a bite—dead. With a 100% rate of infection as far as anybody knew, one bite was all it took.
Ears trained for any hint of danger lurking in
Similar Books
