Never Look Back: A Dystopian Novel

by Mortimer, L. C.

  “You seem like a really good Grandmother. Brian’s really lucky to have you two in his life.”

  “No, Sweetie. We’re the ones who are lucky.”

  The three of us sat in silence, staring at the fire and watching the flames flicker. I snuggled under my blanket as I enjoyed the newfound warmth in the fireplace. I felt more at peace in that moment than I had in days. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend everything was okay. Maybe my parents were fine. Maybe the text had been a mistake. Maybe the virus would fizzle out soon and nobody else would be harmed. Maybe things would get back to normal quickly and we’d be able to go to the movies, to the grocery store, to the doctor’s office like we needed to. Maybe, but probably not.

  Chapter 10

  “I think we should go for medicine.” The words hung in the air for a moment, drifting through the room until Brian finally grasped onto them.

  Accepting them, he finally asked, “What?”

  “Medicine. I think we should go.” I could tell immediately that he didn’t think it was a good idea. I watched Brian’s reaction as we sipped instant coffee that we had tried to mix into cold water. It hadn’t turned out well. The instant coffee was mostly just chunks of caffeine in cold tap water. At least the farm house had a well so we weren’t going to run out of water anytime soon. I tried not to grimace as I downed my drink, but it was difficult to be positive when you were chewing your coffee instead of actually drinking it.

  “We don’t know what’s out there,” Brian said finally.

  “But Sarah is miserable,” I lowered my voice so no one else could hear. George and Sarah were still asleep upstairs in their tiny bedroom. I had been at their house for nearly a week and they hadn’t kicked me out or asked me to leave. I still hadn’t been able to contact my mom, but I was planning on going to find her and my dad soon. Very soon. First I felt like I needed to repay George and Sarah for their kindness. They had, after all, taken in a stray. They had saved me. I owed this to them. Medicine was the least I could offer. It was something tangible, something real I could give.

  “I know,” Brian agreed softly, his eyes pained. “But how are we going to get medicine? Raid a pharmacy?”

  “Surely there’s one nearby,” I commented. I didn’t know the area at all, but I couldn’t imagine we were far from at least a Walgreens or small family-owned pharmacy. There had to be something in the area. Brian would have to come with me and show me around, but I knew we could be successful. I was quick, and I was quiet, and I was crafty. My friend in high school had been the daughter of a lock smith, so I could even do a little lock picking if I needed to. I wasn’t good at it, or even slightly proficient, but I could figure it out. We could do this, I knew it.

  “There are two.” Brian’s voice was steady, but pensive. “One in Bainesville, about two miles away. The other is about three miles in the opposite direction over at Miller’s Crossing.”

  “And they carry the medicine she needs?”

  “They carry painkillers, and I think that’s what most important right now.” I wondered if that meant there was no chance of getting any sort of real medication for Sarah, if she was jut out of luck when it came to fighting her cancer. Brian wasn’t the type to openly admit that there was no hope. He’d be more discreet about it than that. His way of saying “We should make her comfortable” basically, to me, meant that she was going to die. Probably soon, too. I couldn’t stand to see her in pain. The thought of her frail body agonizingly losing its battle against the disease that was ravaging every cell was unbearable. We had to do something. We had to get her some relief.

  “We should go now before they wake up,” I told Brian. “They won’t even notice we’re gone.”

  He glanced at his watch, but I didn’t know why he even bothered. The sun wasn’t up. It was early. It had rained all night and would probably turn to snow soon. The ground was almost certainly slushy outside and full of mud. There were probably quite a few fallen trees, too. Maybe the roads were even blocked, given as how there was no one left to clear them.

  “It’s six. George is usually up by now.” Brian glanced up, as if wondering whether his grandfather would appear at any moment. It was unusual that George was still asleep, but I wasn’t surprised. He didn’t have many days left with his beloved sweetheart. He probably wanted to spend every moment he could with her before it was too late. I didn’t blame him. Granted, I’d never been in love, but I imagined that losing the person you needed the most wasn’t easy, even when you knew it was coming. Even if you did have 40 or 50 amazing years together, was it ever really enough? Was anyone ever really ready to say goodbye? Probably not.

  “Let him sleep. If he’s still out it’s because he needs the rest. You have to admit, this has been a hellish week by anyone’s standards. Do you know what medication Sarah takes?”

  “I’ll check the medicine cabinet.”

  Brian darted upstairs and returned not only with a list of medications to find, but also a few other things we might want to try to find. SOUP, the list read. WATER BOTTLES. RAMEN. GRANOLA BARS.CRACKERS. 7UP.

  “The medication sometimes gives Grandma an upset stomach,” Brian explained as I read the last two items.

  “Make sure you add ‘chocolate’ to that list,” I told Brian as he grabbed a pair of rain boots and pulled them on. He smiled and handed me an identical pair of boots and an oversized rain coat. I slipped it on and pulled the hood over my head.

  “I’ll leave a note for George,” Brian said, jotting something on a piece of paper. He placed it in the center of the kitchen table and, obviously satisfied that the note would suffice, led me out of the house.

  “Truck?” I asked, nodding toward the aging pickup, but Brian shook his head and dangled a set of keys in front of me.

  “No, we’ll take the Cavalier. It’s smaller and quieter. Plus, if we have to ditch it, I like it less than the truck.” Satisfied with his explanation, I slid into the passenger seat of the car and pulled my buckle on. The engine roared to life and I noticed that there was only a quarter tank of gas. It should be enough, though.

  “Can you shoot?” Brian asked me, handing me a .38 special. It wasn’t my weapon of choice, but it would work in a pinch. It had been awhile since I handled a weapon. My months away at school had probably made my shot a bit rusty, but I’d manage. Once upon a time I had spent at least three hours each week at the range with my dad, but that had been a long time ago.

  “I can shoot,” I assured him, not mentioning how long it had been since I wielded a gun. There was no need in making him worry, not now. He had enough on his mind without throwing a useless companion into the mix.

  Without another word, he pulled out of the driveway and down the narrow road. I thought for a moment about whether I’d have to use the gun. Would there be other looters out? Would they be on foot? Would someone try to take the car? Or was everyone dead? Would we see a lot of bodies? I realized, quite hastily, that I needed to remember to breathe, so I took a few deep breaths.

  A warm tingling sensation drifted over my body as I suddenly felt Brian’s hand on top of mine. He patted it gently and then returned his hand to his side of the car. It wasn’t much, but it offered me some comfort. I got the feeling that Brian was starting to like having me around. It must be nice, I knew, to have someone his own age around. I liked being around him, too. Although he had a rough exterior, he was really pretty nice when you got to know him. Plus, he had already seen me topless and he was still friendly. Guess things weren’t as bad as I imagined them to be.

  “It’s okay.” Brian told me in his most reassuring tone. “Really. I’ll protect you. And if things are too bad, we’ll just turn around. It won’t be the end of the world.”

  I nodded without saying anything, but I was grateful for his kindness. Brian was attractive and had a lot going for him. He was nice, outdoorsy, and funny. In any other world, I’d probably have a crush on him and sit around doodling Mrs. Paige Helsley in my notebook, but not this world. There
wasn’t time for anything like that. Not anymore. I sucked down my feelings and instead of offering a compliment, instead of flirting, instead of leaning across the car and planting a soft kiss on his cheek, I said nothing. The silence filled the car like a heavy fog, ruining any sense of comfort I had felt just minutes ago.

  The trees drifted by slowly as Brian made his way down road after road, twisting and turning through the forest. I knew the highway couldn’t be far, but we didn’t pass it. He knew his way along the back roads, which was especially impressive since many of them were unmarked. After just a few moments of driving, Brian hit the brakes. We hadn’t gone far, but I imagined the pharmacy would be fairly close to our location.

  “We’ll hoof it from here,” he told me, pulling over a small deserted parking lot. We climbed out of the car and I took a brief look around. There were still quite a few trees, but we were at the edge of what I assumed was Bainesville. The entire town was pitch black. There were no lights, no cars on the roads, no people milling about. It was just empty.

  “How far to the pharmacy?”

  “Just a few blocks.”

  Keeping a steady hand on the weapon in my pocket, I followed closely at Brian’s heels as he led the way down the street. My other hand kept checking to make sure my backpack was still firmly in place.We passed Jo’s Dry Cleaning and Johnny’s Diner, Purrfect Pets and Boxcar Books. There was a small grocery store, too, but the windows were completely shattered and there was blood everywhere.

  “Pssst,” I whispered to Brian. “Should we check for your groceries?” I nodded toward the grocery store.

  “No,” he pointed to a body by one of the shelves. “Too risky. They might have been infected.”

  It was true. While the body was mostly bloody from what I assumed were gunshots or stab wounds, it was possible that they had been infected and were just out looking for food or supplies or maybe even medicine. Suddenly I wondered if going to the pharmacy had been such a fantastic idea. Sure, the idea of getting Sarah something to ease her pain had been kind, but what were we going to find? Would Brian and I get infected? Would we inadvertently bring back the virus to Sarah and George? For being as good-intentioned as I was, I could sure be stupid.

  I didn’t have to wait long to find out. We rounded the corner and as I stepped over piles of bricks that were crumbling off the aging buildings, I started to gasp. Before I could make a sound, Brian shoved his hand over my mouth and pulled me back. He held a finger to his lips and slowly removed his hand from my face. I bit back a scream. So much for this pharmacy. The bodies were already in piles outside the empty building. I wondered how long people had waited before breaking down the door and through the windows of Willard’s Neighborhood Drug Store. I peered gingerly back around the corner and pulled my head back just as quickly. Despite the bodies – and there must have been at least 20 – I was almost certain that someone had been peering back from inside the pharmacy. Somebody real. Somebody alive.

  Chapter 11

  “There’s someone in there.”

  “I know. I saw it, too.”

  “What do we do? Can we take him?”

  “It’s not really a matter of taking him. He has the upper hand. He’s inside a dark, emptyand it’s surrounded by bodies. We’d have to climb over them just to get close enough to get a clear shot. By the time we did, he’d have us made. Let’s go.”

  Brian took my hand and led me back through the empty town. This time he seemed in more of a hurry than when we were trying to get to the pharmacy. I tried to take in the scenery, look around, see if I noticed any other faces peering down from empty apartments or out of store windows, but there was nothing.The town was dead.We made it back to the car and sat still for a few moments. Whoever had been in the pharmacy hadn’t followed us and as far as I could tell, hadn’t gotten a clear look at us, which was good.

  “Who do you think it was?” I asked Brian, but he only shrugged.

  “I don’t know anyone well enough to know who it might be. Could’ve been anyone. Might not have even been a local. When people get scared, they run. Those people probably didn’t even die from the virus. They probably killed each other fighting over the last few bottles of Tylenol and Oxycodone.”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “We’re going to Abigail’s.”

  “Who?”

  “Miller’s Crossing is probably going to be just as bad, if not worse. Our best chance at finding anything is going to be to look through peoples’ houses, especially people who are far enough out of town that their places haven’t been ransacked yet.”

  “So who’s Abigail?” Had it been a girlfriend? Was she still alive? Was it the name of a store? Was Abigail someone close to the family? Should my weary heart be jealous?

  “A friend. She was out of town when the virus struck.”

  I hesitated, but then asked before my courage ran out, “A girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  Brian offered no further explanation and I didn’t ask. We made it to the tiny house in about ten minutes. Brian pulled into the windy driveway and parked right next to the house. There were no other cars in the driveway and no outbuildings or garage. It was just a house. A tiny little matchbox house. Brian strode quickly to the back of the house and grabbed a key from beneath a peculiarly shaped rock. The key slipped into the lock easily and turned without so much as a squeak. We entered the house and although the sky was still gloomy and dark, tiny specks of dust floated in the air.

  “See what’s in the kitchen,” Brian commanded as he darted down the hall. I heard him rummaging around and I made the mistake of opening the fridge first. Before I could fully breathe in the smell of the rotten meat, I slammed the door shut and didn’t even bother trying the freezer. The cabinets were surprisingly well stocked, though, especially for someone who had planned to be out of town. Brian reappeared as I was standing in front of one particularly full cupboard.

  “How much do you want me to take?” I asked, motioning toward the stacks of canned Spaghettio’s.

  “Take it all. She’s not coming back.”

  “You seem really certain about that. How do you know she didn’t survive?”

  “Nobody survives this, Paige. You get sick or you don’t. You die or you don’t. You get coughed on or you don’t. There’s no reason, there’s no rationale, and there’s no hope. Abigail was a thousand miles away visiting her grandkids when this thing happened. You really think she’d leave them to come back to her tiny, lonely farmhouse?”

  Without a word, Brian started filling his backpack with the canned foods and I followed suit. I wanted to offer up a condolence and I searched for the right words to say, but what did you say in a situation like this? “I’m sorry everyone you’ve ever loved is dead or dying?” Was that really appropriate? Brian tossed more and more food into his backpack and as he went faster and faster, I grabbed his arm and stopped him.

  “Hey,” I said finally, choking out the words. “I’m really sorry.”

  Without a word, I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his chest. Despite the bad weather, despite not showering for a few days, despite the grime and the dirt, Brian still smelled good. He must have had some hidden cologne or deodorant because I sure as hell didn’t smell nice after all this time. He didn’t push me away, so I stood there for a minute until I could tell we both felt calm.

  “Thanks.”

  I nodded and grabbed a can of soup.

  **

  We arrived back at the house around what I assumed was lunchtime because George was in the kitchen eating a peanut butter sandwich he’d made himself. Brian dumped the contents of his backpack on the kitchen counter and began putting things away. George was quiet and didn’t look up. The pile of crusts at the edge of his plate was growing larger, and I was reminded of a small child eating lunch at school.

  “How’s Sarah doing?” I started the conversation, but George just muttered something under his breath. I wondered if the man would
ever start to like me or feel comfortable with me.

  “Here, Gramps.” Brian had reached the bottom of his backpack and pulled out a few bottles of pills. Without a word, George grabbed the small prescription bottles, pushed back his chair from the table, and left his half-eaten sandwich and pile of crust crumbs on the table. I could hear the squeak of the stairs as he made his way up to his wife, and I turned to Brian.

  “Did you find what she needed?”

  “Not everything, but Abigail had some painkillers that should help at least for a day or two.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then we’ll be out of painkillers,” Brian said simply and turned away. He didn’t offer more and he didn’t need to say more. I wondered if he wanted to try to go out again, to try to scour through someone else’s home. I still felt shaky from the day we’d had. The experience at the pharmacy had been unnerving, and we had only known about D-Virus for a week. I wondered how bad things would continue to get as more and more people became ill, died, or realized that help wasn’t coming. I wondered what would happen to Sarah.

  A cupboard door squeaked open and Brian took my bag from me to start unloading the canned goods we’d found. It didn’t take long to fill up the tiny cupboard and I watched him carefully arrange the foods so that similar items were together. How many times had Sarah arranged her groceries in a similar manner? How many times had her hands, now wrinkly and soft, painstakingly organized her home so that her family would be comfortable? I tried not to think of her laying upstairs, writhing in pain. I felt completely helpless, but I knew that wasn’t true. When the medicine was gone, if there was still no electricity, no civilization, no organized government, Brian and I would simply have to go find more.