Dust to Dust: An Apocalyptic Thriller

by Bridget Bundy

  “Michael, have you noticed anything strange?”

  “If you’re talking about the marks on my ear and on your neck, we’re not going there.”

  I forgot about the infection. Wish he hadn’t brought it up. “No, look at the house we’re coming up on.”

  “What about it?”

  “The windows are all broken. Every single one of them.”

  “Why is that strange?”

  “Because it doesn’t make sense. Okay. Take a look at this one. First floor, second floor, and the garage.”

  Michael only takes a glance. “Kids were messing around.”

  I decide to let it go. He’s not concerned or doesn’t care, but I can’t shake the feeling something is terribly wrong. There would be one person, at least two, doing something outside trying to cover the damages to their homes, but there isn’t anyone to be seen or heard. No one looks out their windows as we go by. The roads are empty, except for the abandoned vehicles. We saw plenty of people yesterday, but no one today. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t like it one bit.

  C H A P T E R

  16

  “Michael.”

  He ignores me. Keeps right on walking.

  “Michael.”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “MICHAEL WISE!”

  “What is it?” He's still walking away.

  “I have to use the bathroom, and I’m not going in the woods.”

  “That’s all you got, Sis.”

  “There’s a church over there.”

  Michael doesn’t want any part of it, but I do. I want to be human for once today. I want to run clean water over my skin and freshen up.

  “It won’t take long,” I remark.

  “There could be people in there.”

  “Okay.”

  “What if they won’t let us in?”

  “Then I guess I’ll do my business in the woods.”

  While Michael thinks about whether or not he wants to entertain my request, I decide I’m going to do what I want. He can wait outside or come with me. Either way, I’m taking long, purposeful strides to the church. As I walk down the center of the parking lot, the chapel slowly reveals itself, and just like the homes and small businesses we’ve seen, the windows are broken. One of the double doors is slightly open.

  Feeling uneasy about going inside, I wait for Michael, whose dragging behind. I don’t want to tell him I’m scared. He’ll want to keep going. When he reaches me, I walk with him, taking in the stone church before us. It’s a large building with one big parking lot. Mediums have flowering dogwoods and perfectly trimmed grass. A maintenance truck in the back is near a shed.

  We get to the bottom of the steps. Michael tells me to wait while he checks things out. Pulling out his gun, he takes one careful step at a time. At the door, he peeks his head inside before slipping in.

  “Michael?”

  He doesn’t hear me. I tiptoe up the steps to the door. Sunlight shines into the main hall. Shattered glass is all over the window sills, floors, and pews. There’s no one in sight, and I don’t see my brother.

  “Michael!” I whisper loudly.

  Once again, no answer. I know he’s ignoring me. Tired of waiting for him to finish investigating, I go in. The church feels so much cooler, but it’s strange with all the tall windows broken and open to the outside.

  “Michael!” I literally yell.

  He stands up from the last pew. In his hand is a dusty blue garment.

  “Why are you yelling?”

  “Because you’ve been ignoring me. What is that?”

  “I’m not ignoring you, and this is a dress.”

  “Where did you find it?”

  “It was right here on the seat. Where are you going?”

  “To the bathroom.” I rush down the aisle. Michael psst at me to wait, but I ignore him just like he ignored me. The church is perfectly safe, and there’s no one here.

  A door to the right of the pulpit stage has a gold plate with the word OFFICES on it. I push it open. Sunlight shines in through broken windows on the right side of the corridor. Doors are closed along the left. At the end, the passage continues on to what I guess are more offices. Glass is all over the floor. There’s absolutely no way kids broke all these windows. Something else happened.

  Not finding a bathroom in the first corridor, I get to the end and look to my right. There’s a wooden door, probably leading to the outside, and it’s locked. I continue to my left, happily finding the women’s bathroom. I push the door in and sing out hello, just in case it’s a one person stall. The room is dark and musty. I prop open the door with the garbage can so a little light can come in. I make quick use. Afterward, I wash up, making sure to get all the essential areas, but I spend more time scrubbing my neck. I know I won’t wash the bruises off. The marking is under the skin. When I finish, I feel much better. Stepping out into the hallway, I breathe in like the air is new and fresh.

  I hear a noise down the corridor to my right. It’s brighter in that direction. I slowly make my way to an open area and peep around the corner. It’s a kitchen and large dining hall, and its windows are all smashed to pieces too. Plates of food are turned over, and there’s a mess across the banquet tables. Mice enjoy the leftover feast, paying no attention to me. I approach the dining area, making sure to keep my distance from the little critters. It looks like people were eating, and they ran out in a hurry. Chairs are pushed out or laying sideways. Clothes, jewelry, and dirt are haphazardly tossed about on the floor.

  The whole scene doesn’t make sense. Why are there clothes all over the place? Who brought in the sand? A million questions, and no answers.

  There’s another corridor that goes towards the front of the church. I follow it to where a door is labeled WORSHIP ROOM. I push through, stepping out on the other side of the pulpit stage. Michael sits on the front row of the pew, and he’s looking up at the cross behind the choir stand. Stretching from floor to ceiling with red velvet draping over the arms, the wooden larger than life symbol is the centerpiece. Sunlight illuminates the whole area, making it feel serene instead of chaotic.

  “Are you praying?” I slide in next to him.

  “I haven’t in a long time, Sis. What about you?”

  “No, unfortunately, I haven’t. You think God exists after everything we’ve seen so far?”

  “That question is better suited for a priest.”

  “There isn’t one here. So, I’m asking you.”

  Michael marinates in his thoughts before finally answering, “Yes, I believe in God.”

  “I believe in him too. But it sure seems like believing in God and aliens is a contradiction.”

  “That’s because we were programmed to think that way. I mean, I never heard anyone outright say that if you believe in the Big Bang Theory, you can’t believe in God, but I always felt like the teachers who lectured on evolution and the theories of the universe were directly challenging faith and trying to push that religion was proven speculation. They’d say you came from a single cell organism millions of years ago. Adam and Eve? One man. One woman. No way. Honestly, Sis, I always thought the two weren’t contradictions.”

  “They are. You just said so yourself. Natural processes versus divine creation.”

  “If you state it like that, yes, it is hard to reconcile one with the other, but if you think about it dimensionally, it fits.”

  “Dimensionally,” I reply, confused. “I don’t get it.”

  “You and me, everyone on this planet and in the universe, are on a different plane. God is beyond it. Let me ask you a question, and I don’t want you to answer. I just want you to think about it.”

  “Okay.”

  “What if the universe did start with an explosion and expanded, just like scientists documented, but what if God made it happen?”

  I’m so glad Michael didn’t ask me to answer that question. If he believes in both, I’ll let him have it. I won’t debunk his theories because I can�
��t, and I won’t laugh because he’s serious.

  “You’re deep,” I respond. “But you need an expert to challenge you in this subject matter.”

  “You’re not it?”

  “No, Michael, I am not.”

  “Maybe, I’m a little insane.”

  “Who isn’t? You’d be surprised how many people think the same way you do.”

  “I probably wouldn’t be surprised at all. Anyway, we better stop before I blow your mind about Darwinism.”

  “A scientist is better suited for that discussion.”

  Michael nods in agreement.

  “So why do you still have that dress?”

  “I think you were onto something.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Take a closer look.” Michael hands me the dress. It’s dirty all over.

  “There are clothes in the dining hall at the back of the church,” I reply, turning the dress around. It’s dirty on the back as well.

  “There’s more, almost in every aisle. I found jewelry, shoes, purses, and wallets. Money was left behind. Credit cards. And get this. Underwear and bras were in the clothes.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, I’m not joking.”

  “What do you think happened here?”

  “I believe this church was full of people. I don’t know when, but they’re gone.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “They have to be dead.”

  “But there are no bodies any…” It suddenly hits me what he’s getting at. Yesterday, red lightning from the Seeds turned people and everything they had on into dust.

  I drop the dress with disgust and get out of my seat. Going up the center aisle, I look down each pew. Michael is right. Personal belongings are everywhere and not a single individual is in sight. I burst out of the double doors and run to the bottom of the steps. Michael is not far behind. He catches up with me in the parking lot, keeping up with my quick pace.

  “Oh my god,” I remark, scared out of my mind, “what did we walk into?”

  C H A P T E R

  17

  “Kris, slow down.”

  “The dust on those clothes were remains,” I reply, nervously. “Those people are dead. We have to get away from that church, just in case whatever that killed them was still there.”

  “We’re like almost a mile away already. I think we’re good.”

  I slow down, but I keep looking back. The church is long out of our sight, but I’m still afraid.

  “What do you think happened to them?” I ask Michael.

  “Who else could it be but the aliens?”

  “The Seeds turn everything to dust, not just people. You think they have a different weapon of some kind?”

  “Maybe, it’s something they can switch in the Seeds.”

  Confused, I ask, “What are you talking about?”

  “M16 rifles have different settings. Safe. Single round. Three round bursts. The Seeds could have a setting switch too. Instead of disintegrating everything, the aliens can switch them to kill human beings.”

  “Disturbing,” I reply, “and you’re reaching.”

  “Have you seen anything else that turns people to dust?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I say it was the Seeds.”

  “So when do you think they were killed?” I ask.

  “It had to be some time yesterday or this morning. I have no idea.”

  “What if those people ran by us last night, and we slept through it?”

  “It’s possible, but I wouldn’t know.”

  “Michael, I know you don’t want to talk about last night, but do you think what happened to us is connected to what happened in the church?”

  “I don’t have the answers. I can’t explain any of it.”

  “But you do realize the aliens did something to us last night?”

  “Yes, I do realize it.”

  “Do you remember falling asleep?”

  “No, not really,” he sighs, “but I do remember something crawling in my ear. It started ringing. My whole head was on fire. I was dizzy, couldn’t move, or talk.”

  “Something went up my nose and into my throat,” I admit, holding my neck. “It was choking me.”

  “You didn’t see what it was?”

  “No, but I do recall hearing a buzzing sound beforehand.”

  “I do too. It had to be alien.”

  “The same thing that attacked the people in the church?”

  “Could be, but the difference is they’re dead.”

  “Or we think they are.”

  “No, Sis, they’re gone. All these houses and stores we’ve seen since we’ve started walking have broken windows, and no one is outside trying to board them up. One thing about people, even in the toughest times, we get up and try to fix what’s wrong. Nobody is doing a thing to fix what we see now.”

  “You finally admit kids did not break those windows?”

  “I didn’t want to scare you.”

  “I’m not blind to the world. I can handle the truth.”

  Michael touches my arm. We stop walking and face each other. Fear is in his eyes. It’s so clear that it permeates and squeezes my heart. He is an unsung hero, a man that has carried the weight of his country through battle, and in those moments he has seen worse, shown a whole lot less fear than he does now. He faced his enemy, beat them, lived to see the next day, but now, I realize his greatest fear is losing me, and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

  “Truth, Kris, whatever they did to us last night, whatever they put in our bodies, we could die from it.”

  I nod, knowing this is very true.

  “I don’t know how to fix this.” He shakes his head, unnerved by the possibility of our end.

  I take his hands and rest my forehead on his chest. There are no words to provide hope. At this moment, we are winging this life, and the reality is that could be all we have left.

  C H A P T E R

  18

  At the corner of Ladysmith Road and Highway One, we arrive at another infamous shopping center. Much to my relief, Seeds are nowhere in sight, but just like every building we’ve walked by the windows are smashed. Cars are abandoned here as well. A Macemp spins in the parking lot. There’s not a soul to be seen or heard.

  I want to keep going, but there are a few things I want to grab first. That means going into a store.

  “Michael, we have to make another stop.”

  “Why?”

  “Need to do a little shopping. I won’t take long.”

  He silently agrees, pulling out his gun.

  Michael and I cross the short span of the parking lot. He asks me to wait before he enters through the framed door. Glass is on the ground inside and outside of the store. For a short while, I don’t see or hear him, but eventually, Michael returns, waving for me to come in.

  I go straight for the stationery aisle. Greeting cards are still in their slots. Notebooks and pens are neat and untouched. Such things are not necessities during an apocalypse, but for me, it is. I grab two sketchbooks off the lower shelf, two packages of erasers out of a bin, and take a packet of mechanical and colored pencils from the pegs. Feeling satisfied I haven’t forgotten anything, I unpack my bag to make room for my new treasures.

  After I finish, I cruise the aisles, appreciating little things that made life easier, but what grabs my attention is a stand full of shades and floral scarfs. I try on everything. I sashay up and down the aisles. I’m having a fabulous time at my fashion show. Then I spot soap and sanitizer. I stash three of each in my backpack.

  When Michael is ready to go, he finds me in the make-up section applying lipstick. Black & Bold is the name. The paint is dark, sexy, and gloriously fun. Feeling dangerous, I growl at him. Michael is utterly unbothered as he hands me a sickle-shaped water pouch.

  “How do I look?” I ask, posing and grinning.

  “Like you, I guess.” And he walks away. Now I know why he’s not married.


  The water bag is heavy when I hold it with one hand, but around my body, where the weight is balanced, it weighs no more than my backpack. Michael is one smart soldier. We have more room in our bags, and they’re not so heavy.

  I find Michael at the front of the store, frozen and staring at the floor behind the register.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Nothing,” he says, rushing around the corner. “Let’s go.”

  I have to see what had his attention. I lift myself on the counter to peek over to the other side. On the floor is a body, but there’s something wrong. Half of her face is gone. Her hair has fallen out, and there’s no skin over what remains of her skull. A single eyeball hangs from a grainy, disintegrating socket. Dirt trickles out from her sleeves, where her hands should be. Regretting I had to be nosy, I leave out of the store.

  “We just got confirmation on what happened at the church,” Michael says.

  “Yeah.”

  C H A P T E R

  19

  Woodford, Virginia

  For a long time, we work on ticking off the miles. I take that time to put things together about our bruises, the dirt in the church, and the body at the register back at the store. It’s all connected, alien oriented and involved, but I’m not sure how. Michael has been quiet the whole time. I can tell he’s not willing to share his thoughts.

  We’ve heard the whining of the Seeds, but we haven’t seen them so far today. Explosions have been going off to the south and east. My only consolation, the noise hasn’t gotten louder, which means we’re not getting closer.