by Dave Bowman
They were short-handed. That was desperately clear. Liz was injured, and though Mia was an eager helper, she was just a child. That left only three able-bodied adults, for the time being, to do the monumental work the homestead required. The garden alone was a full-time job for two people. There was hunting to be done, traps to be laid, repairs and improvements to be made. And on top of everything else, they needed to have one person on guard watching for intruders at all times.
Everyone was stretched thin. They hadn’t discussed it, but she could see it in everyone’s faces. Nick especially seemed plagued by worry, though he wasn’t the sort to complain.
They needed more people, and Jessa knew just where to look.
Four hundred miles to the north, and fifty miles to the west of Denver, was her friend Chris’s cabin. He had escaped Santa Fe when the outbreak had started, before things had gotten bad in their hometown. He had been ready for a disaster, and he was resourceful. He had kept his cabin in Colorado stocked for just this kind of emergency. If anyone could survive the Hosta virus, it was Chris.
Besides, she needed to find out if he was alive. She missed him terribly.
She considered herself lucky to have met up with a good group of people. She genuinely liked Nick, Liz, Charlie, and Mia. But she still missed Chris. She longed for the connection they had shared. And maybe part of her longed for a connection to the way things had been before.
Everything was so new; it all had changed in just a handful of days. She was in a new home, with new people, living a radically different way of life. Sometimes she ached for a familiar face from the past. Especially Chris’s face.
She could kill two birds with one stone.
Going to look for Chris would be pretty straightforward. She’d just take Interstate 25 north for a few hours, then Interstate 70 west for a bit.
With a little luck, he’d still be alive. If he had escaped Santa Fe before coming into any contact with an infected person, there was a good chance he would still be living.
Jessa had listened intently as Mia, who had been studying her biology and physiology textbooks, explained it. Using the information about the Hosta virus they all remembered from the news reports before the world came crashing down, plus the information she had gleaned from the textbooks about pathology, Mia had pieced it together.
The immune survivors, like Jessa and the rest of the group at the lodge, were not carriers. Their bodies carried no traces of the virus. That meant that Chris wouldn’t get sick from her. If he had gotten to his remote cabin soon enough, he had a chance.
Once in Colorado, she didn’t think it would be difficult at all to convince him to follow her back to New Mexico. He’d be happier living with others than on his own, anyway. He could start a new life along with the rest of them.
Jessa and Chris could start a new life together.
It would be a long drive, but she could do it, and maybe even get back in one day. Either way, she wouldn’t be gone long. Her absence would only be a burden for the others for a short time, and she’d more than make up for it by bringing back another pair of able hands.
And if she were extra lucky, she could perhaps find another recruit along the way – someone willing to put in long hours to make the homestead viable, and who could be trusted.
Now that she and Nick had brought back a truckload of food from Santa Fe, they had enough rations for the winter. They could easily support an extra person or two. And what was more, Chris had his own food stores in Colorado he could pack up and bring back to add to theirs.
It was decided. She would leave in a couple of days.
All that was left was to get Nick on board with the idea.
5
“I think it’s a terrible idea,” Nick said to Jessa.
They were standing near the tool shed. Nick was on the night watch, and Jessa had used the occasion of bringing him some hot coffee to broach the subject.
“Why? If it’s because you don’t want another mouth to feed, don’t worry about that. Chris has his own food supplies that he can bring with him. And he can hunt and work in the garden.”
“It’s not that, Jessa,” Nick said, sipping the hot beverage. “I don’t like the idea of you driving over 400 miles to get there. And 400 miles to return.”
“You know that I can do it, Nick. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, Jessa. But it’s a new world out there. None of us are used to it yet. We still don’t know how bad things might be out there. You can’t go driving all over the country by yourself. It’s way too dangerous. It would be bad enough for me to do it, but for you, it’s even worse.”
“Nick, I’ve made it on my own for a long time. Way before the Hosta virus.”
“I know you have, Jessa. But things are different now.”
Jessa shoved her hands into her jacket. The days were still warm, but the nights were getting chilly. It was another reminder of the challenges they would face in the coming winter.
“We need more hands around here. This place is way too much work for us,” Jessa said, staring at Nick.
Nick sighed and looked away while Jessa continued.
“It’s hard enough for the three of us to keep up with the chores around this homestead, but when you add guard duty to the mix, it’s crazy,” Jessa said, her eyes meeting his gaze. “You know I don’t mind the work, but there’s only so much we can handle. We’re all worked to the bone, and we’re not getting enough sleep, either.”
Nick didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say; he knew Jessa was right.
“Just think how great it would be to have another pair of hands around here.”
Nick rubbed his jawline. He had started to keep a short beard. “Jessa, I’m not going to lie. We do need more help, and I’m sure Chris is a good man.”
Jessa broke into a smile.
“And I can’t stop you from doing what you want. You know you’re free to come and go as you please, but I’m against this plan. It’s just too dangerous. All I can ask is that you think about it some more before running off, okay?”
Jessa’s face fell and she sighed. “Fine, Nick. I’ll think about it.”
Nick gave her a little smile. “Thanks.”
Jessa turned and bounded up the stairs to the front porch, disappearing inside the dimly lit lodge without a look back.
Nick took another sip of the coffee. He knew Jessa would do whatever she wanted, and that worried him. She could be reckless. She was strong, probably the strongest woman he had ever known, but he was concerned it wouldn’t be enough to venture off on her own for a few days.
He watched the shadows moving through the newly installed windows inside the lodge.
Looking out over the meadow, he settled in for the next few hours of his guard duty. Charlie would relieve him in the early morning, and Nick himself would get some rest before the two of them set out for a hunting trip.
He hoped the night would be calm, and he hoped Jessa would come to her senses and decide to stay close to her new home.
6
Matt’s bicycle gleamed in the afternoon sun.
It will just be a little ride, he told himself. I’ve been cooped up at home too long. I need to get out.
He knew it was more than a joy ride. It would be a mission to find other survivors, and it would mean facing his greatest fears.
Though he was frightened by what he might find outside his home, he propelled his body forward to grab the bicycle and began riding it down the driveway before he could change his mind.
Cars were parked in front of the houses as normal, but there was no sound or movement. He rode past the houses of friends who he knew were dead. He turned right onto a larger street and rode past office buildings, corner stores, and restaurants. There were signs of looting – broken glass, merchandise scattered here and there. Wrecked cars were strewn about the parking lots.
But there was no one in sight.
Matt continued through the business sect
ion of town. It was clear that chaos had reigned during the height of the Hosta virus. Stores had been broken into, and people had dropped dead all over. He turned his face away from the rotting corpses as he passed by.
He pressed onward through the unnaturally empty city without seeing another soul. There was no sound, no movement. The panic that was building inside him pushed him further, desperately searching for a sign of another human. His legs pumped until they burned, and he skidded to a stop at the edge of a tree-filled city park.
He had been all over his town without seeing another living person. The fear was closing in on him.
His shoulders heaved as he caught his breath and looked around. There, at the far edge of the park, a little more than one hundred feet away, he saw her.
She took a step forward, her leg muscle as tight and finely tuned as a violin string. Her coat was tawny brown and gleamed in the late afternoon light. She turned her head and fixed an unblinking stare on Matt, her green eyes glowing.
Their eyes locked, and Matt was lost in the mountain lion’s intense gaze for a moment. He was only dimly aware of the fact that he was urinating on himself.
Then, she charged.
Springing off her haunches, her muscled body propelled toward Matt in an instant, covering the distance furiously. Matt’s survival instinct kicked in and he swung his shotgun around and hit the safety off before he could even stop to think. He shot wildly at the six-foot-long cat just as she came close, the deafening sound crackling through the quiet evening air.
He saw right away that he had missed the big cat, but before he could feel disappointment, the cat stopped, turned, and ran, startled by the loud noise. Matt watched, trembling violently, as she ran back toward the direction she had come from, eventually disappearing out of sight into the forest.
Matt gasped for air as he worked to keep the panic at bay. If he had been a split-second slower in his reaction time, he would have been torn apart by now.
He switched the safety back on and slung the shotgun around to his back again, then turned his bike around and pedaled off toward home, his mind and his legs racing. The return ride back through his town was the same as the first – he saw no live humans – but this time, his heart was filled with terror. His hometown was completely empty – except for the wild animal that had tried to eat him.
He didn’t stop until he was at his front porch again, throwing the bike down and staggering inside. He locked the door, set his shotgun down, and fell into a heap against the door, back again inside the familiarity of his home.
I can’t be the last person alive, I can’t be the last, he repeated to himself over and over.
“There must be others out there,” he spoke aloud now with a shaky voice. With no electronics or anyone to speak to, he resorted to speaking to himself, just to break the endless, unnerving silence.
“There’s got to be. I just have to find them.”
He walked to the kitchen window and looked out at his dad’s Ford F-150. It sat parked to the side, just where his dad had left it.
Matt had only tried to drive it once, and it hadn’t gone well. Earlier that year, with his dad sitting in the passenger seat and coaching him, he had managed to drive it just up the long driveway. His dad had thought Matt should begin learning to drive even at his young age, but Matt had protested. Driving a vehicle frightened him, which drove his dad crazy. After the tense driving experience, Matt parked the truck and jumped out, running inside the house and upstairs to his room.
“Give him another year,” Matt heard his mom say to his dad later that night, when they thought he was out of earshot.
“The boy needs to learn,” his dad responded, annoyed. “When I was his age, I jumped at the chance to drive a car.”
But his father didn’t press him again, and Matt had been relieved.
Now, he wished he had tried harder to get the hang of it.
I can do it. I can drive that truck.
He had been to New Mexico many times with his family. Though he didn’t know which roads to take, he could read a map, and he knew where his dad had kept the road atlas.
He had always liked visiting the lodge in the Jemez wilderness. He and Ashley always complained a little about the lack of TV and internet, but they soon got over it once they were there. It was beautiful country, and he liked hunting and playing outside. Plus, he always got to hang out with his cousin Owen.
Owen’s parents, Uncle Nick and Aunt Kaitlyn, had made a pact with Matt’s own parents to meet at the lodge in case of emergency. They had all been preparing for some kind of horrible disaster. Matt had heard them talk about EMPs and oil collapses. Matt hadn’t paid too much attention to it all, but he knew that they were all supposed to go to the lodge if and when the world fell apart.
And these days definitely felt like the end of the world.
But the lodge was in the middle of nowhere. It was deserted even before the Hosta virus. Now, with so many dead from this outbreak, New Mexico would be emptier than ever.
Even if he could manage to drive that pickup the 800 miles to the lodge, what would be waiting for him there?
Chances were, there would be no one. And then what would he do? It would be a risk leaving the abundant food stores and supplies in his comfortable home for the unknown.
But he had to take that risk.
He had to find out if his any of his extended family survived. And if they hadn’t, he would need to find another human being. He couldn’t go on alone.
7
Soon after dawn, Nick and Charlie set out walking east in search of game.
They spent most of the morning waiting in a mixed forest of oak and pine. It was prime deer season and prime habitat, but there were no deer.
Frustrated, they decided to move on. They moved south down the valley to arrive at a small lake. They improvised a blind out of some logs. Charlie used some duck calls and a whistle, which went over well.
Suddenly, a noise in the forest caused a commotion, and several mallards took off toward the sky. Charlie and Nick both pulled their shotguns and fired. They killed two birds each. Charlie gave Nick a high five, then they set out to where their kills had fallen.
They dressed the ducks and packed them to carry home. Just as they were about to leave, Charlie saw something out of the corner of his eye. He stared off into the forest to the south.
“What is it?” Nick asked under his breath.
Charlie swung his shotgun around, securing the butt in his shoulder, and Nick did the same.
“I thought I saw something over there,” Charlie whispered.
With Charlie leading the way, the two men walked stealthily in that direction.
They paused, looking around, and Charlie lowered his gun. “It was probably nothing.”
He turned away, but Nick stopped him. Nick motioned with his head toward a tall pine fifty feet away.
Charlie turned around, squinted, and jerked back, startled. He brought his shotgun back around in front.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“It looks like a person leaning against that tree,” Nick muttered. “It looks like he’s trying to hide from us.”
“Maybe we should just go back home,” Charlie whispered. “I don’t want any more dealings with crazy drug addicts.”
“I don’t really want to turn my back to him,” Nick said. “And I want to know who’s lurking around the woods out here. Let’s check it out.”
He took a few steps closer to the figure, then stopped, his gun still raised. He stared at the man leaning against a tree, narrowing his eyes.
“Hey!” Nick called. “Everything all right?”
“Stay right there!” a man’s voice called. “Don’t come any closer!”
“Damn, he’s not friendly. I was afraid of this,” Charlie muttered, backing away. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nick started to back up, but something made him stop. That face – he had seen it somewhere before.
His f
eatures were vaguely familiar. Suddenly it dawned on Nick. He knew where the young man was from, and he understood why the guy didn’t want him to approach.
If Nick could convince the guy to let him give the first aid he needed, he had a feeling it would be well worth his trouble.
“Are you injured? Do you need help?” Nick called again.
“I’m fine! Just stay back!”
Nick could hear the pain in the man’s voice. His shirt was off. He had used it to press to the wound in his thigh. It was now soaked with blood. He turned back toward Charlie. “He’s hurt really bad. I’m going to see if he’ll let me help him.”
Nick slung his rifle over his shoulder and held his hands in the air.
“You need first aid. That wound looks pretty bad, and you could die from if you don’t tend to it.”
“Are you crazy, Nick?” Charlie hissed. “You’re gonna get us both killed! Just leave that guy to die if he wants.”
“Just trust me on this,” Nick said under his breath.
“I mean it, man! Don’t come any closer!”
“We’re immune to the Hosta virus,” Nick said. “You won’t get sick from us.”
The man hesitated, staring at Nick, who was taking small steps forward slowly. The man grabbed his rifle.
“Just put that gun down, and we’ll get you taken care of. You’re from Los Gatos, aren’t you?”
8
The man blinked, confused. “How did you know that?”
“I’ve been buying bread from the Los Gatos general store all my life. Your face looks familiar. You must have a family member who worked at the store.”
Still unsure about Nick, the man slowly nodded. “Yeah, my Aunt Sylvia worked there.”
He grasped his rifle a little tighter. “But that doesn’t mean I want to catch that virus from you. So just stay where you are!”
Nick stopped, obeying his wishes, but spoke quickly. “I understand you have to be cautious. I know you folks quarantined yourselves off when the virus broke out, but you don’t have to worry anymore. That virus spread so fast that everyone who could catch it is already dead. Those of us who were exposed to it, and are still alive, are immune. You won’t catch it from us.”
