After Life
Page 18
Morgan, about to protest, understood what Alex needed to do and sunk back into her seat, silently accepting his demand.
She watched him grab the shotgun and slide out of the cab. He hobbled on one leg, up the stairs, and entered the house. Only moments later she heard a single shot. Alex walked back out of the house and crawled into the cab of the truck.
“They’re both gone.”
Morgan nodded, “They’re at peace now Alex.”
Alex leaned over, whimpering into Morgan’s chest, as she kissed the top of his head. She held him for a while before he collected himself, and she put the truck into reverse, backing out of the driveway. They continued on for a few miles, before coming across a car dealership when their gas tank was nearly empty. They both searched the building, staying close, but never hearing anything resembling a moan. Every corpse lay in taters on the ground, unable to move. In the managers office they found a master set of keys and walked out into the lot, searching for the perfect car. Alex allowed himself to smile as they shopped.
When they finally chose a new car, with a full tank of gas, they drove down a nearby dirt road, looking for a place to stay for the night. It didn’t take them long to find a small house, far from any neighbors. The house appeared to be a summer cabin for an upper middle class family and not lived-in during the outbreak. A small lake was behind the cabin. All the doors and windows still appeared secure.
Breaking one of the windows, they both crawled in and did a thorough search of the house before moving the entertainment center in front of the window they broke. They started a fire in the fireplace and cooked a small meal, neither of them very hungry. They both felt calm and moved through their actions sluggishly. When they curled up on the plush couch, watching the flames dance across the wood, slowly consuming it, inch-by-inch, they made their plans.
They talked about heading back into Minnesota and visiting the Mayo Clinic. Alex not only felt there was a good chance of people surviving in a facility like that, but if they did, there was a good chance that there would be a doctor amongst the survivors.
Just then, Morgan felt a kick inside of her. The first movement she had felt since they left the Wal-Mart.
“It moved!” Her eyes, covered in tears, were glittering in the firelight. “My baby. My baby is alive.”
He held onto her belly with a firm grip. The child inside of her was Christopher’s child, but he was unmoved by this. He had already sworn his protection so many times that in his mind he was solely responsible for the child’s safety.
He would love the child.
Just like he loved Morgan.
Alex laid his head on Morgan’s belly and she watched his face in the fading sunset streaming through the window. She felt her chest rise, then fall with his. And with the sense of calm that fell over her, she felt all three of their hearts beat together.
Day 2378
Alex walked over a small hill, looking down on the field next to their house. He stood near hanging sheets on a clothes-line, the white billowing against the long green grass. The wind mad the cloth dance, casting the smell of the clean laundry into the air.
Morgan was at the bottom of the hill, carrying a basket of freshly picked tomatoes from the garden to their house, and Alex’s stomach growled when he thought about the way they tasted fresh from the plant.
As he lifted his gaze he saw the smokestacks of a factory in the distance, towering into the air, covered in vines. The sky above them was a vibrant blue. Birds flocked overhead. Under the dormant factory he saw one of his neighbors eating lunch with his family at a table in their backyard.
Alex was hesitant about living so close to someone again. There was always a chance that one of them could die and turn into a freshly animated corpse. He had seen it happen.
It was Morgan who finally talked him into it. She felt it was important for them to start trusting again. She told him everyone was dangerous, even her, and everyone would have to adjust to that. It had simply become another part of life. Death had changed, and they would change with it, but their life would go on.
Alex made a mental note to bring some tomatoes to his neighbors later in the day.
“Papa,” a small voice erupted from behind him.
“Zoe.” Alex smiled large under his thick beard, opening his arms to catch his daughter running at him. “Did you help Mom with the buckets?”
“Yup.” The little girl nodded, crossing her eyes as she tried to see her own tongue, which was sticking straight out. “I carried one all by myself, too!”
“I don’t doubt it,” Alex said, pinching the girl’s tiny arms. “These things are getting bigger every day!”
“Aw, Dad.” The girl blushed. “What are you doing up here? All by yourself.”
“I’m just admiring… everything. The world.”
“What does that mean? ‘Admiring?'”
“It means I’m looking at the world and I’m… I’m happy with what I see, and I’m thinking about why it makes me happy. I’m really stopping to notice how I feel.”
“Oh.” The girl nodded her head. “You do that with Mommy a lot.”
Alex laughed from deep in his belly. “You’re right. I do.”
“So, why are you happy?”
“Well…” Alex sat down on the grass next to her so they were looking eye to eye. “Do you mean besides the obvious answer that’s standing right in front of me?” They both laughed as he playfully dug his finger into her belly button.
“Besides me!” she squealed, trying to push his hand away.
“Okay, besides you.” His tone became serious as he looked out across the rolling hills that surrounded them. “I’m happy because when I look at the world, I know it’s going to be okay. I know that people can’t hurt it anymore. Even if we wanted to, there just aren't enough of us. That makes me think that everything turned out okay. It makes me think that maybe this was the plan all along. Maybe this is exactly what the world needed.”
“I don’t understand,” the little girl said, shrugging her shoulders.
“I know. And that makes me happy too.”
“You’re happy I don’t understand?”
“I’m happy that you don’t have to. I’m happy that this is the only world you’ll ever know. I’m happy that you never saw what the old world was like.”
Her attention was distracted by a butterfly that floated past, and she said, “I don’t miss things like everyone else.”
As her innocence floated along with the orange wings and they both walked down the hill of tall grass, toward the small cottage where Morgan stood in the doorway waiting for them, Alex spoke softly to himself.
“I don’t miss things, either.”
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jaron Lee Knuth (1978-present) lives in a small town in western Wisconsin. He is a writer, comic book artist, media analyst, electronic musician, and a vegetarian. He is broken and so are you.
jaronleeknuth@gmail.com