May 21, 2019 - O2 Remaining: 115 Hours / 4.79 Days - 9:13 PM

Eury Morrissey

“Breathe.” I hissed at Kelly as he struggled to pull the wagon across the damp grass.

It hadn’t rained since I had gotten to town, yet Alaska’s grass was still damp. I stopped pushing on my end the moment I ran out of breath. Kelly stopped as well.

“I. Am. Breathing.” He whispered back. Hands on his knees, straining to breathe.

Since the wagon was more than a hundred pounds weighed down by the LOX tank and all our supplies, we thought carrying it down the single step in the back would be easier than banging down the several in the front. Which it was! For a single solitary moment, I felt smart. Then, while my brain engorged with my brilliance I quickly felt all of that confidence deflate the moment the lawn swallowed the wheels and we had to drag it through.

After a few seconds of catching my breath, I gave him a thumbs up.

*Ready?*

Kelly nodded, grabbing the handle of the wagon again. It took a long time—on account of all the breaks I needed—but we managed to get out of Alaska’s backyard. The slanted front yard made it significantly easier to get the wagon to the sidewalk. It was careless getting out of the mud so fast—without double-checking for any more of them—but I was too fed up to care in my moment of haste.

Turning the wagon onto the sidewalk, Kelly quickly stopped and grabbed the handle of his sword. We both looked around for any movement. I hadn’t seen any of them since last night, and even then it was just… Curlers.

And you sure did see a lot of her, didn’t you?

Just like last night, the street was empty.

Kelly produced a page protector from within his windbreaker, unfolded it, then double-checked the map we made earlier today. I was the more artistic of the two of us so the cartography fell to me, but I had been away for long enough that everything but the main streets drew a blank. The path that we had decided on would see us head out of the “‘burbs” of Sheridan, down the river, across the bridge, and up Mainstreet to O’Brian’s, then to the clinic. And Kelly didn’t like the plan, not one bit.

The problem was, that no matter what he said, I still needed to go. I didn’t know much about what happened to Alaska that night, but I did know two things: she was at O’Brian’s when this all turned to shit and that she headed for the clinic. There was no way for me to know if she made it to the clinic, and after Kelly’s horror stories of that first night, I needed to do my best to retrace her steps. I needed to see if there was any trace of my best friend left in this insane world.

To Kelly’s credit, after telling him that, there wasn’t much of an argument at all.

O’Brian’s was on the way to the clinic from here anyway, so my reasons to go overturned any of his concerns.

Unable to change my mind, Kelly focused on guiding me through the streets like a seeing-eye dog. Starting. Stopping. Leading me this way, then the next. This gave me a chance to think about the infection. I knew there wasn’t much I could do to help them, but I had a responsibility to at least try and understand. They deserved that at least.

All that I could gather from last night, was that they puked—a lot. Perhaps a form of horizontal transmission to spread the disease? But at the same time, what kind of disease was this? The loss of fluids was comparable to cholera and Ebola, but neither of those turned anyone violent. Rabies might do something like that, but the onset of symptoms took time and none of those incubation periods were anything close the speed I saw this thing work at. My mind kept going back to drugs. There was just no time for this to be a disease—Curlers proved that—and a really, really bad trip would make so much more sense. I did understand biology better than Kelly, but I was no Davis. Sure, he was just a high school teacher in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, however, he was by no means dumb. If anything he was the smartest man that I had ever met. At least when it came to scientific theory. Interpersonal relationships? Not so much.

I was proud of how well our wagon was holding up. With everything tied down and stationary, the wheels dampened, it worked like a dream. The only thing that wasn’t working as I hoped was my olive branch.

I had asked Kelly to hold onto my concentrator as a sign of my trust.

Or something like that. It was unclear—even to me. It just seemed right in the moment, but instead of being the opening salvo of a barrage of gratitude from me and apologies—all that crap—instead, he chomped at the bit to help me and the conversation died the moment I saw that big stupid smile on his face.

And think, you could’ve gotten him killed. What does that make you?

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

I watched as the concentrator’s bag bounced off of his hip with every step. And with every step, I felt myself getting more and more flush. This wasn’t going well. And now that we’re out here, there was no way for me to even talk to him! I needed to explain myself. Not that I even knew how to.

Why couldn’t I have met you in high school or something? Maybe then somebody I actually wanted to see would’ve shown up to the hospital when I got sick. Maybe then I wouldn’t be as thorny as I am these days. Maybe then—

Suddenly, Kelly crouched low, moving slowly to put the cart between him and the street beside us. After a beat, I realized that I was still standing in full view of whoever Kelly was hiding from. I dropped down beside him and started scanning the street.

“What do you—” The moment I began to whisper, Kelly looked at me, a single black-gloved finger pressed hard against his covered face, then his attention went back to the street. He watched for a few seconds before he relaxed slightly. I placed my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. Without looking at me, he pointed out the space between two houses. Laying between the buildings looked like a pile of... Snow?

I leaned closer, trying in vain to get a better look.

While it did, in fact, look like a pile of dirty snow—white with black chunks of mud—the angles on the pile looked too crooked. And then the pile moved. It was a small pile of people, not snow.

I couldn’t tell how many there were, but the first couple, both wearing white clothes—jackets maybe?—shifted in the pile before falling still again.

Were they... sleeping?

I entertained the possibility in my head. If they were sleeping, then maybe they’d also need to eat and drink. Like any human would fundamentally need to survive. That could explain why they were going after people, fresh meat? Oh god, that’s—

Suddenly, my bubble of thought popped when Kelly pulled his sword from its sheath. Apparently, he didn’t think we’d be in the clear for long so any more scientific inquiries would have to wait. I grabbed my fire poker and looked to Kelly. After another few seconds of watching, he stayed low and began to pull the cart down the street.

The pile of people stayed, more or less, still. As we slowly rolled past. Following Kelly’s lead, I stayed hunched over behind the cart with my eyes glued on them. I silently thanked past-us for draping a dark blanket over the cart. Hopefully, that was enough to help us blend into the fence behind us, the small hope that kept me focused and calmed. By the time we made it to the end of the street, and by extension the end of the suburbs, we were still alone. I released the sweaty grip I had on the handgun at my hip.

Turning onto North Bridge street, I finally saw exactly why my dad wouldn’t have been able to come. The road—the four-lane thoroughfare crossing the river—was littered with cars across the majority of it. Most looked as if they had just been in minor accidents while others looked significantly worse. The windshields and windows that appeared to be bashed in. It looked like a group of them came through and tore into the cars. But that didn’t explain the few windows that were bashed out.

As we pulled the wagon through the wreckage, a particular car caught my attention. It was a minivan, the front window was caved in like it crashed into someone. What got me to stop were the three holes that had been punched into the window. I couldn’t be sure it had been “punched” in but the holes were only a bit bigger than my fist. The edge of one of the holes was ringed by dark blood as well. As I leaned my head closer to the hole, Kelly grabbed me by my shoulder and pulled me away.

“Don’t look.” His wispy breath was visible in the cold night air. “We need to keep moving.”

When he spoke, something inside of the van responded. The howl was higher pitched, squealing almost, more wild than anything I had ever heard. It stabbed at something in my mind—deep into the reptilian part of my brain. I had to do something, now, but the wagon with my fire poker was too far away.

I grabbed the handgun from the holster.

“Eury, no.” Kelly’s voice was quiet but harsh. “Leave him.”

Him?

Far away, more of them called out to the deafening scream. It was difficult to see through the dark side-window but the way he moved—the tiny flailing arms—I knew I couldn’t leave it there like that.

Kelly tried to pull me past the van again.

“We can’t leave him.” I pulled against Kelly’s grip.

It felt like every scream, every wail that echoed off the buildings around us, a fog got thicker and thicker in my mind.

“Do you not hear him? Can’t you just… Can’t you tell?”

“But he’s—” I jerked my arm out of his grip.

“He’s sick and they’re coming. If we don’t go now, we’ll be dead. Do you want that?” Kelly’s eyes stayed on the south side of the bridge.

“I… Okay. Let’s go.” I said, keeping the gun in my hand. I hesitated only a second longer. Then through the worry and uncertainty, the thought came to me.

End it.

My grip on the handgun grew slick with sweat. I watched the tiny wailing form only get more and more manic as the seconds passed.

Do it. Shut that little fucker—

“Eury!” Kelly’s voice blasted through the fog that clouded my mind. “Put the fucking gun down!” Kelly called out to me. My arm dropped to my side, the weight of the gun felt like a hundred pounds. “They’re coming, let’s go!” Kelly didn’t whisper anymore. His voice rang loud in my ears as a headache began to pound on my skull like a drum.

I didn’t look back. Just turned to run after Kelly, who started running towards the south end of the bridge. I could only get a few feet away from the van before my lungs started to burn. A few more yards before I had to slow down to a jog.

“Just lea—” I began to call out to Kelly but stopped when loud howls came from the north end of the bridge.

They were here.

I had done this to myself. It wasn’t fair for me to risk his life again, just for mine. As I crossed the halfway point of the bridge, I watched Kelly pull the wagon to the side and withdraw his sword.

“Get out of here!” I called out to him.

“You’re already halfway! Get over here.” He hissed back at me, barely audible over the sound of the wailing.

“Leave!” I turned around. Gun raised. Taking aim at the first of two figures sprinting toward me. My breath wheezed, making it difficult to steady my aim. Fucking lungs.

Deep, calm breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

A quarter way down the bridge. I drew a bead on a figure as he barrelled over the hood of a car. I tried my best to drown out the screeching sound droning from the van in front of me.

In, out.

“Don’t pull the trigger unless you’re absolutely sure.”

I was, I had no choice. They left me no choice. Sure they sleep, but wasn’t enough to make them human by itself.

In, out.

I waited. Waited for them to cross the threshold. The car in front of the van served as my demarcation line.

In. Out.

The second one stumbled as he rounded the trunk of the car. As the first, a man in a plaid shirt and blue jeans, crossed between the two vehicles, it was like time slowed down. It wouldn’t be like that nightmare. This would work. This will work. I lined up his face with my sights. Just like Curlers, he too was crying.

Were they in pain?

My concentration shattered when metal clattered loudly against the asphalt a few feet behind me.

How the hell did they get behind me?

I spun around, my gun still raised, only to lower it as Kelly rushed past me.

“No!” I yelled at him, but he didn’t stop. Again, for the second time in two days, he threw himself into danger. “You stupid—” I began as I stuffed the handgun away in the holster. “What the fuck are you doing!” I ran over to the fire poker.

As Kelly's blade struck deep into the plaid man’s neck, dark blood sputtered out of the slice. Then, he backed away from the man as he shambled forward another step. Fire poker in hand, I took the low road and swiped at the man’s knees. His head slammed hard into the ground with his legs buckled.

“Get the... hell… out of here.” I said, out of breath. Holding my breath while I aimed that gun took even more out of me than I realized.

When the second man, bald and wearing a white shirt stained in blood, arrived, I moved without thinking—I was too angry for that—and swung hard at the man’s bloated face. He dropped like he ran into a brick wall. I leaned over, wheezing for air.

In the distance, rumbling under the child’s wails, I could hear more distant howls. “Now, get going. I’m just going to slow—Hey what the hell!” I said as I suddenly found myself being carried.

In my exhaustion, I couldn’t put up a fight when Kelly scooped me up in his arms. And started jogging towards the cart.

“Can you hold this?” He slapped the sword against my thighs.

“I—yeah, okay.” I awkwardly took the sword, alongside my fire poker.

It’s too bad you decided to get out of that dress of yours. You could’ve really pulled off the helpless damsel here.

“Can you put me down?” I said, as my wits finally returned to me.

With no hesitation in his response, he said, “Can you run?”

I was not as quick to respond. “No.”

“Then I’m carrying you.”

We crossed the end of the bridge, now a few feet from the intersection.

“Why? Why didn’t you just listen when I told you to run?”

“Because… Because I owe you, I’m not just letting you die for no reason.”

“I wasn’t sacrificing myself just because. I was doing it to make it up to you. Plus, that all was my fault anyway.”

“Last time I checked, this partnership didn’t come with a suicide pact. You hear?” He deposited me on the sidewalk beside the wagon. “Are you okay to move?” He asked, taking his sword back.

To my surprise, I actually was. The few moments of being carried in his arms helped me catch my breath. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“This way.” He said, leading me towards the shops that backed onto the river.

The moment Kelly returned his sword to its sheath on the wagon, I heard a clear howl. And it didn’t come from the north side of the river. Just beyond the first few shops off Bridge street. As clear as a ringing bell over the still night air. “Let’s go.”

He began pulling the wagon quickly down the sidewalk. This time, we switched our focuses. His eyes were laser-focused on the shops in front of us while I was scanning each of the street inlets around us, as well as the north side of the river. Kelly picked up the pace as another howl echoed off the buildings.

“They’re coming,” Kelly said quietly. He peeled away from me, getting to the first brick building that was the first shop of the strip. Now behind the corner, Kelly looked back at me, concern splashed across his face like neon paint.

“Go,” I said, still managing a slow jog. As he turned towards the shop front, my vision began to blur at the edges.

Tunnel vision. Again. For christ’s sake.

I just kept my focus on his back. That was, until a scream louder, deeper, more anguished than any before emanated from the North side of the river. Unconsciously, I turned towards the sound and watched as a pack of them sprinted down the riverbank road, heading towards the bridge.

May 22, 2019 - O2 Remaining: 112 Hours / 4.67 Days - 12:24 AM