Genesis Virus

by Pinto, Daniel

  Ava says. “My imagination is not based on other’s imagination.” The rest of group ignores him and takes mental notes on the best way to escape.

  Meanwhile, David puts something in a pot and lets it cook over the fire then brushes away empty locus shells clutching on his seat made of wood.

  The pot vibrates, someone says. “Is it done yet?” David gets up and smells it. “Yeah, it’ll due, come and get some gentlemen and lady.” Stirring the pot.

  Everyone is on his or her second bowl and more amendable to listen. Some have soup mustaches. The slurping stops when David starts talking. “Do you all ever wonder what happened to all the cats and dogs? Before this, local pounds and clinics had their hands full, euthanizing and putting stray pets down. The creatures don’t touch them. What happened?” He looks at each person like a teacher hoping someone will try to answer.

  The Chief says. “They were domesticated and died when their owners abandoned them. Most were bred into weaker versions of themselves. People set them up to fail. Without their care and before all this, their numbers surpassed humans, it’s a shame, they’re all gone and the white man is probably next.” The Chief’s eyes get wide and he squeezes Youngblood’s shoulders from behind as if he’s telling a made up campfire story.

  David shoots him a dismissive hand. “Downer.”

  Lou raises his empty bowl as if it gives him the floor to speak now. “Poor people had the most pets it made them feel powerful in a powerless life.”

  Ava rotates her sore ankle and neck. “I never had a dog, my parents said I was too lazy and that they had their hands full already with me and my older sister.”

  Youngblood says. “Really, I figured you had a Chihuahua, or a small dog in a purse like those celebrities.”

  Ava responds right away. “Thank you for that stereotyping, we know that’ll never die.”

  Lou says. “I would of guessed a ghetto bulldog.”

  Ava flips off the group with two hands. “Remove those dumbass grins off your faces.”

  Cooper and David are laughing into their bowls. After David stops, he says. “I didn’t mean for the conversation to get so sad or dark.”

  Ava says. “Let’s change the subject then.”

  David looks over at her across the fire. “Good idea. One more thing though, everyone here has just eaten someone’s pet. WOOF. Good right?”

  The group pauses for a second then spits out whatever is left in their mouths. Some drink water and spit out some more. Once they walk around to gag in the dark and scrape their tongues. David raises his arms and shouts. “It’s not, it’s not. I swear. It’s beans and deer.” He tosses the can near the fire, it rolls up revealing the logo.

  To gain their trust, David takes another mouthful of the food and says with his mouth full. “It’s not. But if it were, you all would eat it. Be honest.” He wipes the juice from his chin.

  Everyone is sitting down again, and the group of disgusted faces mumbles. “No…of course not.”

  David enjoys his food while the rest of the group stares at the pot. He says after a swallow. “Dog meat still grosses you out after everything you’ve seen and done. Wow, I guess there’s still hope for mankind. He takes a big gulp from the water bottle to wash down all the juicy chunks and begins to laugh mid-sip, thinking about the dog meat joke. But is unable to laugh because he chokes on it all including his words and is turning beet red with his eyes looming large. He bumps into the pot and rocks it. A frisson of fear of death seizes him, the vertiginous choking is becoming more insoluble each long second. The black and greys of night blur and pulled towards the center. Abject wheezing brings the taste of food back. Now potential and painful vomiting is on the table. His stamina is depleting faster than the falling sands of time. So he falls to one knee, genuflecting to the God of the Wind. His body’s reaching out to his soul dangling from a cliff top.

  Ava shouts over his choking. “Stand up tall.”

  Lou shouts over his wheezing. “Put your hands up.”

  The Chief says. “Don’t die.”

  David does the first two, holds onto the closest tree coughing…his voice is low like he spent last night partying and hollering. “It went down the wrong pipe.” After everyone realizes he’s okay. Laughter dances from person-to-person. “That’s what you get.” David storms off into the dark.

  Ava says. “Don’t be a cry baby.”

  The Chief laughs as he eats from his bowl again. Lou looks over at him sideways. The Chief says. “What? It’s good. Woof.” He holds the bowl near his mouth.

  Stomach growling, Youngblood gets up to get some more as well. “I’m starving too. I was more of a cat person anyways.”

  The rest of the group eventually get what’s left in the pot and can hear David walking back.

  Youngblood squeezes his throat and makes a goofy face. “You better now, Princess?”

  David smiles and says. “Oh, yeah, I was just checking the perimeter, because I care about you all.” He kneels down by the woodpile and rekindles the fire. His throat is rough like sand paper.

  Ava rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  David sits down, touches his stomach, and wishes he had gotten another bowlful before he left. “Ok, no more jokes. I promise. Let’s get to know each other. Let’s talk about our first times, we’re all adults, even you Youngblood.” David looks over to Lou. “Settle down tiger.” The group laughs and David continues. “I mean our first encounter with these things.”

  Ava lets out a gasp. “Thank goodness, I didn’t feel like listening to anymore stories full of lies.” The guys look insulted and mumble.

  David bounces up and talks fast, his wandering around is making the group more tense and nervous. “I had a sleepover, three of my baseball teammates were in my room playing video games on my big flat screen TV and goofing off like spoiled brats. Our pitcher fell asleep pretty quick and of course we messed with him in his sleep, good platonic fun. Hours went by and I left to go look for some more junk food in the house, the Second Base Man and the Shortstop stayed in the room, they continued to play some game while sitting on small foldable chairs too close to the TV, it was the only thing lighting the room.”

  Ava interrupts the story. “You never told me this.” The Indians shoot her a dirty look. She raises her shoulders. “Sorry.”

  “When I came back from the kitchen, I noticed the Pitcher getting up, he wasn’t hard to miss because he was the biggest of us. I shouted. ‘It’s about time you join the party.’ He ignored me and walk towards the Second Base Man.”

  David stops walking around, the campfire is in front of him and the group is in a semicircle past the fire. “He bit into his neck.” David slams his hand in his neck and feigns falling over. “Causing him to fall over to his right knocking over my other friend as well. The whole time my friend is screaming and kicking everything within reach. Blood was all over his white T-shirt. The Shortstop gets up and tries to get the Pitcher off by pushing and kicking him in the ribs, but it was no use. So he started to shout and run out the room for help. Thinking back on it now, he was the smartest of us all.”

  David goes to sit down, tempering his restless movements, thinking about it. The night partly covers his face.

  Ava says. “So?”

  David says. “Oh…All this happened in a minute or less, I was shell shocked at first like a deer in headlights. Then as my friend ran passed me, the one for help, the Pitcher looked up at me and stood up very slowly as my friend on the ground stopped shaking.”

  David swallows, then says. “I didn’t know what I was dealing with, obviously, but I believe bravery has to involve a part of stupidity because I ran towards him with all I had and speared him into the dresser, knocking him back. I heard his head crack on the dresser like a walnut and that’s when I saw his eyes from the glow of the TV.” David flashes his fingers over his eyes.

  David grabs a glowing branch from the fire. “I knew what I had to do and I skipped the kicking and punching because I sa
w it didn’t work and so I went for one of my trophies and beat in his face until he stop moving like my other best friend on the floor next to him.” He beats the stick into the ground; sparks swiftly shoot upward around his body. Ashes stick to David’s face like murky blood.

  He turns his back to the group and drops the stick. “I killed him. No regrets, only numbness.”

  David turns around with his hands on his hips. “Later some cops took me somewhere; I’m guessing kiddy jail. After a few hours, a military lawyer came to see me. My parents told him we have a family lawyer. But, he insisted and said, ‘You will be out as soon as some paperwork is processed and not to worry about anything, jail time or civil charges. It was obviously self-defense and you are a brave hero.’ Later on, I started to see that man more and more on the news. I’m guessing he’s still alive somewhere. I listened to him that night, but I didn’t care what he had to say. I just thought about how much I lost in one night, my friends and myself.”

  The crickets’ chirping is getting louder. The group’s eyes are transfixed and no one wants to make the first sound.

  David stops talking and forces a smile, he doesn’t say anything anymore. He grabs his weapons and walks forward through and outside of the camp. Everyone is silent and exchanges glances with each other. Ava is getting ready to follow him and the Chief takes her hand. “Give him space.” She lies back down.

  9

  A few hours later, no one can sleep a peep, so they busy themselves to keep warm and calm.

  The Chief has a block of wood and a small knife in opposing hands. “I used to whittle different animals for my grandkids, one of each, the familiarity of doing it, helps me relax.”

  The night is getting colder and Ava is hugging herself to stay warm by the fire. Ava had grandparents, but not the kind to write home about. If only her and the Chief could become a second edition family this instant and replace what they don’t have with each other, but that’s not how life works.

  The Chief looks at a defeated zombie in the distance. “A deadly virus wiped out ninety-percent of the Indians after the Vikings first tried to settle in the North American East Coast before the Mayflower. To put that in perspective the Black Death killed sixty-percent of Europeans. And when the exploring Europeans came to America years later, it was a cakewalk to take what they wanted because of this mysterious virus. It was a blessing for the white man and a curse for my people. I bring this up because we survived one plague and greedy nations. My people will be the last ones standing.” In his hands, the wooden lion is taking shape.

  Youngblood says. “It was the Genesis Virus, Uncle and it ran its course, leaving no evidence.”

  Lou spits out chewing tobacco, “I don’t know,” then wraps his bundle of newly sharpen arrows around his axe, like fasces.

  Eventually, Ava says. “What happened to your people?” She’s sharpening branches into spears with her long blade.

  Cooper speaks up. “We had a community of over fifty. Then one day they stormed in, early in the morning with black ski masks, killing ten of us, then the firing stopped.” Cooper snaps his fingers. “A man appeared without a ski mask, they called him The Boss. He walked around assessing the damage. They divided the rest of us up into male and female groups. The whole time the Boss was arguing with another man. I don’t know who he was. Eventually the Boss says. ‘Do it.’”

  Cooper pulls his distracted hands away from the fire in pain. “His bodyguards grab the first adult male and he tries to fight back. But they subdue him fast with a hit here.” Cooper winces holding his ribs. “Afterwards, they tied him to a wooden pole, by his neck and limbs. The Boss walks up to him and it sounds like he said. ‘You will save lives.’ Then some men set him on fire, I can still feel the flames.” He runs a hand down his face.

  Ava rubs her hands together. “How’s he look, this Boss fellow?”

  Cooper says. “Lean, in his fiftys, and tall.”

  Ava says. “Then what happened?”

  Cooper says. “The Boss said to the living. ‘This will happen to all of you, if one of you tries to follow us.’ And during our screams and cries, his men took our women only. The Boss’s last words were. ‘Please hate me in silence, no one else has to die.’ ”

  Cooper put his head down. “They took my wife. I don’t even think for sex, but just because they could.” He begins to cry, but wants to finish the story.

  The Chief says. “Stop.” Cooper looks at him as if he forgot the guys were even around.

  Ava asks Lou. “Why are you here?” He says. “They killed a lot of my friends in the raid and my brother was on that stake.” The Chief says. “He took my sister Sora, who is Youngblood’s mom.” Youngblood turns his back to the crowd and wipes his eyes in the dark.

  David reappears and says. “I’m sorry for your losses.”

  Cooper breathes in hard to catch his breath. “Death or my family. This is how this journey ends for me.”

  David squats down next to him, placing his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “I’m with you, friend.”

  10

  Ava writes in her small notebook.

  Potential Lyrics

  Who I am to change the paradigm.

  I come from a time far far away.

  Where heroes and villains die everyday just the same.

  Same shit different day.

  In madness, there’s no rhyme or reason.

  Live and Laugh before you are forgotten.

  Watch out for the season of Death, mostly its eatin’

  And if you come for me,

  you better not miss your goddamn shot.

  Why isn’t there a word for a person who loses it all. Loser is a petty insult it doesn’t represent the lost of loved ones. Words have lost their meanings because we use them so casually. ‘I died a little when he broke up with me, I’m always depressed when my favorite TV show ends, I’m going to kill myself for attention.’ This is semantic satiation, overuse hyperbole, and reverse ablest language. That demeans real struggle and causes others to question your hardship because you use words that they take for granted. So what? How can we effectively communicate if our language is a joke that we use to pass the time?

  What’s the point of all this? Who says there has to be a point to anything. Why questions are very useless. Like why is the sky blue or why does bad exist, both exist so why waste time trying to overthink it. How am I going to survive another day is the only point worth having.

  I never was the best student or athlete. I certainly have the height, standing at 5’10”. Funny thing is, I wanted to become an artist who created art revolving around vaginas and penises to make everyone uncomfortable for uncomfortable sake and get paid by morons. Art gives critics a job and I wanted to do my part of proving them wrong. I will create my magnum opus with the blood from all kinds of foes. Cheesy? I thought so, lets just say I will do nothing nice to whoever gets in my way. That sounds redundant like stating a fish lives in water or negative people exist in a negative world. Self-evident.

  When someone says, “or else what,” when you ask them to listen to you, it implies they expect you to frighten them into submission, and violence is a great motivator. People expect violence and so I give them what they want. Only one person’s pride can win, why can’t it be mine?

  I wish people would stop making the same mistakes it would make my life a hell of a lot easier. A girl can dream. Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from a religious conviction. I hope I don’t I have to kill any religious raiders like last time. This time they might have bombs strapped to themselves, for Allah or Santa Claus, it makes no difference for who, only who it hurts. On the news, societies across the globe were letting the innocent and guilty die just the same, in hospitals and in prisons. World leaders would simply say, “Let God save them.” And I bet you they slept like babies after they condemned millions to die because they happily surrendered the only control they want do away with, self-control, not control over others,
God forbid.

  If a person is told they are a self-conscious nothing, they will pursue a path to change that and earn their meaningful life, but if they are told the universe is created for them and they are created in the image of a flawless God. What’s left to achieve or do, if your life is preordained. The universe does not give a rat’s ass about anything including itself. Life does not give meaning to an individual. A person gives meaning to their life. Still, life is above all, objective questions and truths. But simply knowing the truth for all human facets does not eliminate the need to live, to constantly contradict yourself and social norms. Life is a continuum that’s has room for knowledge and mistakes, both continually follow each other. I feel no need to impress any group. Stating one’s identity in any manner is not compensating insecurities, it’s essential, if you only know who you are, than you are invisible like the walking dead. Live for yourself, life’s too short to live for everyone else. Do you want the final say on your life, take it.

  What’s the point of small talk anymore in this world? A waste of time. I’m living in a poor man’s hell, a serial killer’s wet dream, and lost in a labyrinth of lies. That was a mouthful. And it still doesn’t do it justice. The only surprise left is a day without killing. That’ll be the day. For every action, there is consequences on someone’s conscience, so develop tougher skin.

  Monsters have emigrated from the darkest corners of our minds and are a pain in the ass. This Genesis Virus is a bitch. It even has a pretentious nickname to begin with. The Genesis Virus is conniving and never satisfied. Yeah it’s a bitch. I’m only calling it like I see it. The only upside to the Genesis Virus if there is one at all, is that I have plenty of dead people walking around to take my frustration out on. I’m still terrified of rats and roaches, I lived with them long enough, yet they still creep me out, especially at night, now if they took over the world instead, I wouldn’t even have survived D-day.