They brought back a stack of blankets, but only two pillows. We started spreading blankets out on the floor. The old couple said goodnight and went upstairs and locked themselves in their bedroom.
“Maybe some of us could use folded up blankets for pillows.” Amber suggested.
“Good thinking, Amber.”
“I’ll spread your blanket out for you.” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Wow Amber, why don’t you take a minute to wipe the drool from your chin first.” David said.
“I’m just trying to be helpful!” she snapped at him.
“My sister likes you.” he told me. “She’s a gay. Mom and Dad hate it, too.”
“I was just spreading the blanket out because you’re holding the gun.” she said defensively.
“Oh, I... uh...” I sputtered, and I could feel myself blushing.
She's gay too? Wow, what are the odds of that? And she likes me. Um... weird. I don't think any other girl has ever liked me. At least that way. I'm not sure how to feel about that.
“I appreciate it.” I told her. “You guys all go to sleep. I’ll keep watch for a while. David, I’ll wake you up in two or three hours.”
I walked around, looking out the windows, as the others stretched out. I hope they can sleep. Especially Tasha. She’s under a lot of strain, not knowing about her Mom and Dad. I guess we all are. But she has to be rested to drive.
“What if we’re the only people left?” David asked.
“Go to sleep.” Amber told him.
“What if?”
“Then we’ll have to kill you so the rest of us can get some sleep.” she said.
“Highly unlikely.” he said. “Being the only remaining male, that makes me important. If we want to perpetuate the species, you would all have to make sure I was safe. It’s not like there would be a lot of options for fathers of your babies, ya know.”
“Jeez, that really is all guys think about, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Hey, if I’m all you got left...”
“Okay, well even if you weren’t just thirteen, you’re the last person I’d sleep with.”
“What’s wrong with me?” he asked. “You’re too good for me?”
“You’re not a girl.” I told him.
“Well, there’s that. So if we were the only people left, that means you and Amber would be stuck together, being the only two lesbians.”
“And you’re perfect for each other.” Bridget said. She started laughing. “I knew you would be.”
“Wait, this is the girl in your class?” Tasha asked. “You’re sneaky.”
“Go to sleep.” I ordered everyone.
Okay, well, now I’m stuck taking care of the little girl my sister tried to set me up with. Where are her parents? Where are my parents. God, please take care of them.
Thursday April 7th
I never woke David. I was way too wired to sleep anyway. When the others started waking, I stood and stretched and tried to look awake for them. I have to be strong and look confident. Dad said so.
We left the blankets folded in a neat little pile on the sofa when we left. We had to slide the dresser out of the way to get out, and then we locked the door and closed it behind us. Surely that’s enough until they wake up. They don’t need three dead bolts and a dresser. Beside, there’s the window.
“Bridget, here.” I handed her the map. “You navigate for a while.”
“I suck with maps.” she whined.
“Try.”
“No. You do it.”
“Bridge,” I’m so tired I can’t read it, Bridget. Except I can’t tell her that. “I’m trying to pay attention in case we see anybody.”
“I’ll do it.” Amber said.
For the next hour Amber gave directions like a pro. Turn here, there’s a small road there, we could go this way and avoid main roads.
We found a lot full of cars and pulled in. I got out and walked around, keeping my eyes open for any danger, while the others tried to figure out how to siphon gas. We don’t dare go near a gas station right now. We passed one a while back, it was swarmed. I don’t know how many of those people were sick and how many were just going a little nutty from all of this, but there were pipes being swung at people, screaming, a guy jumping on top of cars. It was awful.
“Hurry up.” I told him.
“We’re trying.” Tasha said.
“I saw a car just up the road. If they head this way we have to get out.”
“Got it, Becca. Relax.”
If I relax I’ll fall asleep. I can’t do it. Not now. I’m responsible. If I went to sleep and anything happened to any of them Mom and Dad would blame me. Keeping these guys safe is my responsibility.
“Becca!” Tasha shook my arm. “Hey, you here? I said we’re ready.”
“Right. Let’s go.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
All day long we only passed three cars. Sometimes we passed people walking. Once one of them stepped to the side of the road, like he may try to step in front and stop us, but I held the gun out the window and he stepped away. A few times we passed some of the ones that aren’t quite people anymore. They were oozing and stumbling, and some had chunks of skin falling off and green pus underneath. It was so disgusting.
Tasha drove late into the night. She didn’t want to stop. The others slept in the back seat. It was midnight when we reached Uncle Bill’s cabin.
“Finally, bed.” David said, almost sounding excited.
“No, no beds.” I told him. “Tonight we sleep in the living room. It’s safer. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”
“Becca, come on.” Bridget whined.
“No. Not tonight.”
“Fine, whatever. You suck.”
“Just get ready for bed.”
“I’m not tired. Why don’t the lights work?”
“Because the power is out. And Dad told you to listen to me, Bridget.”
“Well he’s not here.” she said. “He may never be here.”
She started crying. Not the I’m scared crying, but really, truly, grieving type of crying. And then the others did, too. All of them. They were all worried about their parents. I had to wander out of the room, into the kitchen, to keep from sobbing along with them.
“Becca, the phone is ringing. The phone works!” Tasha was shouting.
“What?” I stepped back into the living room. “I didn’t hear a phone.”
“No, I’m calling, but it’s working.”
“Who are you calling?”
“My parents.” After a couple of minutes she put the phone down. “It just keeps ringing. It doesn’t even go to voice mail.”
“Sorry, Tasha.”
“It’s okay. I’m not giving up hope.”
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
“Can I try my parents?” Amber asked.
She tried calling her parents, with no luck. Bridget called Dad’s cell phone, but he didn’t answer, either. I didn’t really expect it. We’ve seen a lot of destruction on the way here. People have torn so many things apart. We’re attacked and people freak out and destroy our own country. Brilliant.
While everyone else laid down to sleep, I found a radio and plugged headphones in and listened to the latest news on the only station I found that was broadcasting. Atlanta is gone. Not just people sick, but gone. The army bombed it to try to stop the spread of this disease.
The guy on the radio said over ninety eight percent of people catch it when exposed. People go crazy and lose all rational thought. Many wander aimlessly, some walk off into the water and just drown. Some attack others.
I guess there have been similar attacks on every continent except Antarctica. And between us and the Russians we’ve dropped nuclear bombs on half the major cities. Humanity is ending.
“Becca.” Tasha sat next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. “You okay?”
“Go back to sleep.”
“When was the last time you slept?”
“I’m fine. I have to keep watch.”
“You’re so tired you can hardly see. You’re going to screw up and shoot one of us if you don’t rest.”
“This is my responsibility.”
“Just show me how to use that thing. Just the basics. I’ll stay up.”
“You’re tired too.”
“Not as tired as you are.”
“Tasha,”
“Please just let me help.”
“Okay. Okay. You just sort of aim the whole thing toward what you want to shoot and pull the trigger. This is the safety. Leave it on until you think you might need it. Don’t point the barrel at yourself or anyone else unless you plan to shoot them.”
“Got it.”
“I can stay awake. You should just go to sleep.”
“Go to bed, Rebecca.”
“I... okay.”
“Goodnight.” She hugged me.
“I love you, Natasha.”
“Love you too.”
Except I’m in love with her. I don’t just love her like a friend, or like the sister she once said she felt like we were. All day long, with everything else on my mind, I have had thoughts of Tasha. I’m more worried about what happens to her parents than what happens to mine, which is screwed up. But if my parents die I’ll be horribly sad and feel awful. If her parents die, she’ll feel horribly sad and awful. I’d rather be the sad one.
Monday, April 11th
We’ve been doing our best by ourselves, but we’re getting more worried about our
parents. The radio stopped broadcasting. The last we heard, there were very few healthy people left. Anywhere. In the world. The last hour of broadcast was just a man reading prayers and saying that the end has come.
I took the others outside yesterday and showed them everything Dad showed me about using the gun. I took the other gun from the bag and we’ve made sure that two of us have one at all times now. I still think I’m going to be one of the ones standing guard each night. These people are my responsibility.
“You don’t like me at all?” Amber asked. We were alone, sitting on the hood of the car.
“What? I never said that. I just don’t know you.”
“You seem to not like me.”
“I guess I’m just in a bad mood. I’ve been sort of grouchy. Sorry if I’ve been mean or anything.”
“But you don’t like me?”
“You seem okay.” I said, shrugging.
“But you don’t like me like me.”
“Um, you’re a kid.” Thanks Bridget. Thanks for telling her I’d be interested.
“I’m almost as old as you.”
“You’re fourteen.”
“David’s right, you don’t have a lot of options. If you’re ever going to fall in love, I’m it.” she smiled.
“Sorry. I just don’t see that happening.” And that’s not it. I can be in love, I just can’t have someone love me back.
“I’m just saying you should be open to the possibility. Since we might very well be the last people on the planet.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
So what, everyone is gone, let’s give up on our families and just worry about who we have left to date now? Some people have messed up priorities. Though I guess I’m one to talk, right? I spend all my time wishing for someone I can’t have.
“I think you’re really pretty.” she said.
“Uh... thanks, I guess?”
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m just asking.”
“Amber, I’m sorry, this isn’t going to happen.”
“I heard you before. I’m just curious if you think I’m pretty.”
“Okay, this conversation has gotten way uncomfortable.”
“It’s a simple question. I won’t be offended if you don’t. Everyone has their own opinion.”
“Uh, um, sure I guess. You’re not bad looking, for a kid.”
“But nothing like Natasha?”
I didn’t know what to say to that. It’s like being called out for a lie you told. There’s no response that helps. This is bad. She says that, and she blows the whole mess up. But she can’t know how I feel, so maybe she just thinks Tasha is pretty?
“Do you think she’s pretty?” I asked.
“Of course. But I don’t have a crush on her, like you do.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?” Tell me this isn’t happening, that it’s just stress and sleep deprivation that’s causing me to think she’s onto me.
“When David was talking the other night and you said he was the last person you’d sleep with, you kept looking over at Natasha.”
“Maybe I was embarrassed about what she would think because she’s my best friend.”
“You watch her all the time.”
“And you know this because?”
“Because I watch you all the time, too.” she admitted. “And then when she looks up at you for anything, or when you’re talking, you keep glancing away and blushing, like you think she’s going to figure you out.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Maybe. I don’t think so, though.”
“Why are we having this discussion?”
“Because I think you should tell her.”
“Okay, well, you’re just wrong, and... I’m glad we had this talk.” I slid off the hood.
“You’ll feel better with it out in the open. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way.”
Sure I will. Hey Tasha, I love you. What’s that? Oh, you hate my guts and no longer want to be my friend. Sure. Hey, maybe she’ll wander off alone, because I make her uncomfortable, and then she can go off by herself and die.
“What makes you the expert?”I asked. I was staring down the road, unable to look at her.
“My Mom was in love with one of our neighbors last year.”
“I thought your Mom and Dad...”
“Dad knew. Later. She told him. But she was in love with this guy, and he was their friend, and it was awkward. And she eventually told him. He completely rejected her, but she felt better. It was a relief just knowing it was over.”
“And your Dad stayed with her?”
“She still loves him, too. I think it’s complicated. But it’s not like she cheated on him or anything. She told him about it.”
“He wasn’t jealous?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
I got back up on the hood. I don’t want to go inside right now, anyway. I’d just wind up staring at Tasha. Maybe she’s right, maybe I should just tell her.
“What about you?” I asked. “Apparently you’re here because my sister decided to play matchmaker.”
“I’d probably be dead if she didn’t. What about me?”
“You’re not... jealous?”
“I barely know you, and I know how you feel about me. You think I’m just a kid and you aren’t interested.”
“Sorry.”
“At least I know. I haven’t loved you as long as you’ve loved Natasha.”
“You love me?” That’s scary.
“Sort of.” She doesn’t even seem embarrassed. This girl is really brave.
“Okay, well, that’s just because of all the crap we’re going through and that I’m you’re only option. You don’t know me.”
“I think I’d really like you anyway, no matter what. But who knows, you could be right. Even if that’s the case, so? It doesn’t change how I feel.”
“Oh.” This is some hero worship thing because I saved her, I bet. “So what if you’re right? What if I am, and I tell her, and it goes bad?”
“It would be done then, at least.”
“She’s not a lesbian.”
“So? Life’s too short to worry about labels.”
“Where’d you hear that?” I asked, laughing.
“There’s a gay-straight group I’m part of online.”
“I just
don’t know.”
So this girl is actually sort of deep and thoughtful for a kid. I hope we find someone for her one day. Just not me. I can definitely see why Bridget would think I’d be interested in her, though. I’m just not. I don’t know, if we’re still here in a few years, and if there’s nobody else alive, maybe I’d be interested. Maybe.
I was sitting up for my shift later that night, standing watch while they all slept, and I kept playing with the radio with hopes of finding some information. Any information at all.
“Are there any cookies left?” Tasha asked. She was on the stairs. We moved into the bedrooms upstairs a couple of nights ago. Second floor has to be safe, right? Nobody could reach the windows.
“Don’t know.”
“Score!” she said, pulling out five or six Oreos. “Here, have some.”
“No thanks.”
“Any news?” she asked, pointing at the radio. She opened the cookie and licked the center.
“No. Maybe Mom and Dad will be back soon and we’ll be able to leave and look for other people.”
“Maybe.”
She sat next to me and patted my leg. She’s giving me that sad, ‘I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this’ look. I hate that look. Even on her.
“I still have hope.” she said.
“Me too.”
“But I’ve been thinking the past couple of days about it. There’s a very good chance I’ll never see my parents again. Even if they are alive.”
“You will. Tasha, you will!”
“I’m just being realistic, Becca. And I think they’re dead, really. It sucks, and I miss them, but with six billion other people dead I just don’t have the energy to feel too overwhelmed by their deaths. That sounds awful. I just mean they’re only two people, and all those others died too.”
Becca Page 4
