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11/18/09 08:12 pm - Opinions?

Everybody Knows the Plague is Coming

Jon is making his way to the pier. The empty buildings seem to be looming down on him. Something shifts out of the corner of his eye. He puts his hand on his hip, over the holster instinctively, and glances over. It is just a small bird that landed on the scaffolding still surrounding the facades of the buildings. He keeps moving, making sure to be cognizant of his surroundings. The pier looks the same as it does every morning. Trash littering the dark wood, abandoned ships and various debris in the water. He looks into the sky. The sun does not appear to be as bright as it usually is. It doesn’t surprise him. Nothing is as it use to be. He looks further out along the horizon and sees the Statue of Liberty. Her face is worn and looks tired, parts of her crown are missing, lost in the sea. Her right hand is amputated, the one that was holding the torch. The light protecting the city was burned out.

“4 more people were hospitalized in New York City yesterday. The CDC is still not commenting on the mysterious illness that is spreading the nation.”

The sun is warm on Jon’s face. He keeps his eyes closed, still trying to cling to those last few moments of sleep. His eyes flutter open, as his arm reaches to the other side of the bed, expecting to feel her. The space is cold.

He checks on Anna before descending down the stairs, to find the girl still sleeping soundly. He can smell the fresh coffee brewing as he reaches the last step. He sees her standing in front of the stove. She turns when she hears his soft footsteps. She flashes Jon a sweet smile. A perfect smile. He places his hand on her neck and pulls her in for a kiss. He can feel her smile into it. He pulls back and smiles at her, rubbing his thumb over the base of her neck. It feels dry.

“Reports coming out of Europe confirm the rumors of the disease spreading overseas, making T5 a global pandemic.”

Jon runs his hand over the fruit. It feels heavy. He pulls it from the stem. He doesn’t think they know about the garden. He did not even know about it until he came up to roof one day. He vaguely remembers Susan speaking about their neighbor, Mrs. Hedlund and how she gave her some herbs to use. He rubs the charm around his neck absentmindedly. He shakes his head and moves on to the potato plant. He does not really remember when the violence started just knows what areas to stay away from. He expects it was bound to happen. Fear can bring out versions of yourself you did not know you had.

He places dinner on the table and sits down across from Alex. The boy attempts to give him a small smile of appreciation. It looks sad. They say their prayers and begin to eat. He found Alex on his way to the pier one morning, his arm was bleeding. He looked to be about Anna’s age. He was drawn to help him. He does not know much about Alex. The boy does not talk, scared silent by whatever happened to his own family during the event.

“Symptoms of T5 are said to be rash like patches commonly found on the neck, a high fever, coughing up blood…”

Susan refuses to go to the hospital. She says it wouldn’t make a difference, the hospitals do not know what is going on either. They spend their days on the couch talking about their past, their families, how they met, their first few dates, his proposal on the pier, having Anna, watching Anna grow. He moves from Susan’s side into the kitchen to wet another washcloth with cold water. He goes back into the living room and places it on Anna’s forehead. She has had the fever for a few days now. She comes in and out of consciousness, but is usually delirious when she is awake. Jon feels helpless like this, watching his family sick and hurt, not knowing how to take care of them. Not being able to take care of them. Her hand finds his as he’s looking down at their daughter, and she squeezes with what little strength she has.

“Riots have started in Washington; we bring you this live picture of protestors outside of the Capitol Building. They express the angry views many others around the world have as they are forced to watch family members die, with no medicine available to help.”

Jon stirs as hears voices from outside. He becomes tense and tightens his grip on the boy sleeping next to him. The voices are mostly men. They sound dark. He moves himself off the bed gently, trying not to wake Alex. He goes to the window and looks out. There is a group of them standing in the street, around 10. He watches them as they move into the townhouse next to his to rummage through it. Jon knew this day was coming but tried not to think of it. He knew it was only a matter of time before they moved through the city. He knew it was a matter of time before they went through every house and apartment In the Lower East Side and became greedy.

“The CDC is not releasing any new information about T5, only continuing to say that this is an airborne virus. They are not sure how it was released or if it was mutated…”

“Dad…Daddy…”
He wakes up from his sleep hearing her voice. He quietly moves away from Susan to go to Anna. There is something around her mouth. He wipes it off and looks down at his hand. Blood. Anna grasps his hand and he feels something cold and metal against his palm. He looks down and sees her necklace in his hand. The one she always wears. He looks back at his daughter and sees that her eyes are closed.

“They are not sure why some people are immune to the illness. Some people are saying it must be something in their genes…”

He moves away from the window and grabs the handgun on the night stand. Alex is sitting up in bed, staring at him with wide eyes. Jon doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t speak. Jon goes into his closet, the boy follows him. He grabs the shotgun he stored there and some more ammunition. Alex grabs his wrist. He can feel the boy shaking.
He hears the voices again. They sound close. He grabs the other hand gun in his closet and ammo. He hands it to Alex. The boy starts to cry. He carries Alex into Anna’s old closet where the opening to the crawl space is. He places Alex in it, tells him to be quiet, to be still. Tells him not to come out until he knows it is safe, not to be afraid to use the gun. He hears a loud noise, glass shattering. He squeezes the boy’s hand, kisses him on the forehead. Jon closes the opening He goes into the hallway and grabs the shotgun, ready to defend his house.
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