Shattering Humanity (Surviving For Humanity Book 1)

by Kip Nelson

  “It's not something I'd ever thought I would do either. But we have to change our view of the world, Penelope. We've been brought up believing that certain things are right and certain things are wrong because of the type of society we live in. It's not that simple anymore. What are we going to do with pedophiles or rapists now that there's no justice system and nobody to enforce the law? Are we just supposed to let them wander the world and hope that they get ill or are killed by an animal before they can do any more harm to another victim? I know it's not easy, and believe me, I wish things were different, but we're going to have to change our perception of right and wrong. Otherwise, we're going to be left behind.”

  Penelope looked thoughtful for a few moments and exhaled deeply.

  “I just don't know how I should be feeling. Last night was okay. I didn't have time to think. We just had to get out of the city and try to ignore all the destruction around us. But now that it's quiet and it's morning...in some ways it feels like just another day. But it's not, is it? No day is going to be just another day. We have to think about how we're going to eat and how we're going to be safe. We have a hundred different things to worry about and I'm just so scared that I'm not going to be able to make it.” Penelope said.

  “I know. I think everyone is, at least anyone who is sane anyway. I can't promise much, Penelope, but I can promise that I'll always try my best to keep you safe, you and Greg.”

  “There's one thing I've been wondering, though. What if Greg was right? I mean, all things considered, I think you're right, but I can't help worrying what will happen if all this does turn out to be some hoax or some mass power outage. What if we get to your parents and we actually find out that the world is just fine? People will find the body. Those guys saw us. You could go to prison for murder, and Greg and I would be right there with you.”

  “We'll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Tillman said grimly, “but I don't think that's something we have to worry about, even though I'd love to. I'd love it if the world was the same as it used to be.. I'm more worried about his sons coming after us, which is why we have to get moving as soon as possible. I want to put as much distance between us and them as possible.”

  “I'm already tired of feeling this scared all the time,” Penelope admitted.

  She put her hands on her head. Tillman wished he had magic words to tell her, but there wasn't anything he could say that would make things easier. This just happened to be the way things were, and the only way Penelope was going to stop being scared was to have more experience with this world.

  “As long as we stick together things are going to be just fine,” Tillman said, wishing that he could be as confident in those words as he sounded. “Come on, let's go get Greg. We'll have a little breakfast and then we'll be on our way.”

  He pushed himself up off the ground and then held out his hand for Penelope to take. He pulled her up and they walked back into the shed. Greg still was sleeping peacefully, snoring a little.

  “I can't believe he can sleep through this like that,” Penelope said. Tillman chuckled a little.

  “I've known Greg for a long time. The man could sleep through an earthquake,” he said, then walked over to Greg. Tillman leaned down and jostled him, lightly at first, but then more forcefully as it became clear that Greg wasn't going to awaken without great force.

  His eyes opened as his body jerked and he flailed his arms as though ready to take on an intruder. They thrashed about wildly, though, and wouldn't have been able to cause much damage if an attacker had been preying on him.

  “It's okay, Greg. It's just me,” Tillman said.

  Greg put his hand on his heart and breathed in deeply.

  “You shouldn't do that to a man, Tillman. You'll give me a heart attack,” Greg said. He rose to a sitting position and, like Tillman, stretched out his aching body.

  “I don't think we should stay here for another night. Next time we sleep I want it to be somewhere softer,” he said. “I'm not made for this type of environment.”

  Tillman went over to his pack and pulled out some food. They didn't have much, but still enough for breakfast. They shared it among themselves. It hardly was a feast, and hardly enough to make a dent in their appetites, but it was at least something.

  “So, what's the plan for the day?” Greg asked.

  “We're going to continue to my parents' place. Once we're there we'll be a little safer and we can figure out what to do long-term,” Tillman said. He was glad that Greg hadn't mentioned the murder. Maybe he was trying to forget about it himself. Talking about it with Penelope had been hard enough. He didn't want to lose their respect, especially not because he had done the right thing.

  They ate mostly in silence. When they were done they collected their things and took a last look around the shed before they left. Tillman collected his combination lock and put it back in his bag. After testing his ankle a little more, he was confident it would last for another long walk.

  The day still was early and as they set out on the road again Tillman thought about all the people who had slept through last night's craziness. He thought about how so many people would be hoping the government would come through for them and offer some aid. He wondered if those he had met the previous night had found any shelter or any relief. There were so many questions he never would get an answer to, but that was just one of the adjustments he would have to make in this world. Before, he'd had a constant stream of news, nothing was a mystery. Now they all were in a state of ignorance.

  They walked on for another four hours. The sun was pleasingly warm, but it still made them sweat more than they had through the night. Tillman had to keep reminding Greg to take it easy on the water, because he wasn't sure when they would have more.

  Greg was starting to complain that it was more than thirty miles, and that this was a fool's errand. Tillman told Greg to trust him. They didn't encounter anyone else, although they did hear other people moving through the world, and in the distance, they saw the shapes of people walking. Tillman imagined that most people would stay in their homes at first, waiting for the whole thing to blow over.

  They had been walking for so long that their pace had deteriorated. Greg was shuffling along. Tillman was trying to keep a steady pace but faltering himself. They were so close, a fact of which he was constantly reminding Greg. Penelope mostly remained silent. Tillman assumed she was dwelling on the previous night.

  They turned off the highway onto a state road. His parents were close. Soon he would see them again for the first time in years, and he wasn't sure what kind of reception he would get. The closer he got, the more difficult it became to continue, as lots of old wounds would be opened, and salt would be poured into them. Then he thought about Morelle and his niece, and he set forth with more vigor, wanting to be with his sister again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The state road was barren. Occasionally they heard the sound of people shouting to each other, trying to figure out what was going on, but the farther they trekked from the city the more spread out people were. That's why Tillman had wanted to come out here, because at his parents they would be isolated, and it was unlikely that anyone would find them.

  As Tillman approached, though, he thought about the last time he had set foot in the house, how he had had a shouting match with his father. The last years of his life there had been marred by perpetual arguments. Never did his parents seem happy with him. His father worked for the government and always wanted Tillman to have a respectable career. His mother always told him she never could go to church and tell all her friends that he was a gamer. They wanted him to be better. They wanted him to fit into a neat little box that wouldn't challenge their preconceptions about the world.

  Little did they know that Tillman was wealthier than most doctors or lawyers, not that that was worth a damn anymore. Still, he wished they could have accepted him in the way he wanted. He made a good, honest living. Just because it wasn't what they expected didn'
t mean it was worthless.

  Hopefully he hadn't made a mistake coming back here. Sadly, his parents were stubborn, and he hoped they wouldn't still hold a grudge against him. Not now that the world had ended.

  It would be good to get some rest as well. Greg certainly could use it. For the last few hours Greg had been running out of breath, and it only was a matter of time before he collapsed. Tillman hadn't wanted to rest as often today, because he knew they could have a good rest as soon as they were at his parents. Still, when he looked at Greg he wondered if he should have insisted that they take a short break. One of Tillman's failings was that he often forgot that not many people were as physically fit as himself.

  “Are you sure your parents are going to be cool with us dropping by like this?” Penelope asked.

  “Of course. Mom will make you feel right at home,” Tillman said. She'd take good care of Penelope. Whether Tillman himself would be welcome was another matter. He couldn't stop thinking about Morelle, though, and little Jessica...although she wouldn't be so little anymore. Tillman hoped that his niece remembered him.

  “Are. We. There. Yet?” Greg asked, each word punctuated by a deep breath.

  “Almost,” Tillman said.

  He continued walking when he was called back by Penelope. He looked at them and saw that Greg was doubled over, with his hands on his thighs. Sweat dripped from his brow and fell to the ground. Dark stains circled his armpits. Penelope was trying to calm him down because he was beginning to hyperventilate.

  Tillman didn't want to stop now that they were so close to where they needed to be, but Greg clearly couldn't continue in his present state.

  They walked over to the side of the road and took a seat on a log. Tillman shared some water and a little bit of food. He still wanted to keep some of it back, just in case, but hoped that once they were at his parents they wouldn't have to worry about such things.

  “What is the long-term plan here, then?” Penelope asked. “What's the goal after we get to your parents?”

  Greg still was catching his breath, dealing with the rigors of the trip. Tillman found himself pitying the man and was also a little disgusted by him. He knew well that this was the fate that would have awaited him had he not put such an emphasis on being physically fit. He thought all about his gaming brethren and how they would be suffering in the same manner as Greg. Most of them wouldn't make it. It was a cruel thought, but a true one. Tillman had to be pragmatic. There was no use for sentiment in this world, not anymore.

  “We have to figure out the state of the world first. The most important thing we need to do is work on a supply of food and water. I think, first, we need to scavenge nearby stores, maybe some houses, if they have been abandoned. We'll also have to work on defenses. There are going to be other hungry people out there, and they're going to want what we have,” Tillman said.

  “And what about after that?” Greg said, almost choking on his words. “Are we ever going to do more than just survive?”

  There was a desperate look in his eyes. Penelope had the same look in hers. Tillman looked up at the sky, at the lush green shade of the trees, and at the long road.

  “I don't know, guys. I hope that a new city will be built. I hope that there's some kind of settlement where we all can live in peace and harmony, but I just don't know. We're going to have to wait and see what the rest of our race does.”

  Tillman wished that he could be more positive, but the fact remained that there were so many unknowns in this world, and he couldn't predict what would happen. This unnerved him somewhat because he always had been good at predicting what would happen in games. It was something that set him apart from his competitors, but for all his preparation and training in this world, there was still so much that was a mystery.

  Tillman and Penelope waited for a little while longer until Greg was ready to rise again, then the three of them prepared to continue. However, as soon as they were ready to go there was movement in the nearby underbrush. Leaves and bushes rustled, and then a wild dog came out at them. It was snarling. Saliva dripped from its sharp teeth. Its dark eyes were locked on the three of them.

  “There's a good boy, sit,” Greg said, his voice trembling.

  “That won't work,” Tillman said.

  “Is the dog anyone's? Surely it wouldn't have gone feral in just one night?” Penelope said. She craned her neck forward, trying to look for a leash or any sign that it was owned by anyone. Tillman knew she wouldn't find anything.

  “This isn't a result of the apocalypse. You get this sometimes. People come out here and let dogs loose. They decide they don't want to own them anymore and just turn them out into the wild. Same with cats and other pets. People don't take the responsibility seriously. They think they just can turn them away and forget about them, but the animals don't forget. They go on living lives. I remember when I was younger we had a few dogs and cats coming up to us, but you can't feed them, not really, because then they always hang around and they start to treat your home as their own. They were a pet once, but now they're wild. The only thing this dog cares about is getting something to eat.”

  “Do we have anything it'd like?” Greg asked.

  “I don't think so,” Tillman said. They'd eaten most of the hearty food they'd had. The only things left were canned peach slices and some vegetables. Tillman knew the dog rather would have some meat, and to the dog there was no difference between human flesh and animal flesh.

  Tillman stepped forward. The dog mirrored him. The dog snarled again, and then barked. Tillman was worried it was signaling to other dogs. The last thing they needed was to have a whole pack of wild animals growling at them.

  Tillman spread out his arms and tried to move slowly around the road, putting as much distance between themselves and the dog as possible in the hope that they would be able to circle around the dog and move away. But the dog moved with them and backed up, making sure that they wouldn't be able to get past it without a fight.

  Remembering the lessons he'd learned about these dogs when he was younger, Tillman knew that whatever training they had undergone as pups had been driven from their minds. No longer were they docile, charming pets. They were vicious predators. Yet, Tillman couldn't help but have pity for them. It wasn't their choice that they had been thrown away so casually, forced to live out here in the wild after having been a part of a loving home. Tillman had shed many tears in his youth over animals just like this one.

  He pulled out his gun.

  “Tillman!” Greg exclaimed.

  “You can't shoot it!” Penelope wailed.

  There seemed few ways out of this situation. The dog was not going to relent. Tillman wasn't going to let him take a bite out of them, and the great leveler in these situations was a gun.

  “Just because you killed a man doesn't mean you can kill a dog!” Greg shouted again.

  Tillman's lip curled, annoyed that Greg would have so little faith in him.

  “Of course I'm not going to kill a dog,” Tillman snapped. “It hasn't chosen this life. It's just following its nature. It's not the dog's fault that it's turned into this. Not like Ron. He chose his fate. He could have backed away. He could have chosen a better path.”

  “Then why do you have the gun?” Greg asked.

  Tillman had the gun pointed at the dog. In a flash he pulled his hands up, pointing the gun to the sky, and then fired. The air cracked. A few birds were disturbed from their perches in the trees, and the leaves rustled as they flew away. The dog yelped and retreated at the sound of the shot. It disappeared into the forest.

  “Come on,” Tillman said bitterly, putting the gun back against the small of his back. They walked more quickly, wanting to make sure they got away from the dog before it worked up the courage to return.

  “I'm glad we didn't have to hurt it,” Penelope said.

  Tillman didn't say a thing. He was glad as well, but he knew that if he ever had to choose between any of them and an animal, he always would choos
e them. Death and murder hung like a shadow over him. The three of them walked on. They were close now to his old home. It should have been a happy occasion, but the current circumstances made it very difficult to enjoy any kind of happiness. Behind him lay a ruined city, which probably was smoking and smoldering now.

  How many more people had died? How many were giving in to their feelings of utter hopelessness?

  Part of Tillman wondered if he should have stayed and tried fighting against the tide of panic and madness. It always seemed as though there was another decision to be made, another choice that could be better.

  The three of them continued down the state road. The dull gray asphalt giving way to a driveway peppered with orange gravel. A fence lined the driveway, and as they turned into it they saw the red farmhouse. It was surrounded by fields and looked entirely picturesque. Wisps of clouds drifted across an iridescent blue sky. The fields stretched out to the horizon, vibrant and filled with life.

  “It's beautiful,” Penelope said.

  Tillman grunted.

  It was a far cry from the city, with all its concrete maze and industry. This was a peaceful place, a place that was untouched by the encroaching march of technology. His parents always had struggled against the rising tide of progress, which was one of the reasons why they always had been opposed to Tillman's chosen career as a professional gamer.

  “I didn't leave my parents on the best of terms, so this could be a little awkward,” Tillman said as they walked up the driveway.

  They drew closer and the details of the house came into view. The red paint glistened. It must have been a new coat, Tillman thought. The red only served to remind him of Ron's blood. Tillman shook the thought out of his mind. A porch wrapped around the house. Various types of potted plants crept over the porch. The shutters on the windows were black, but they were open, as were the windows themselves, letting the balmy summer heat into the house.