Long Time Traveler

My hand encapsulates the gold locket dangling from my neck as I take in a slow measured breath then continue. The low-hanging vines from the willow trees lining the edge of the forest conceal me just enough to stay entirely out of sight. Beside me, Lena, my adopted mutt I picked up along the way, sneaks as quietly as I do over the dead leaves and garbage littering the dirt. My eyes train on the bodies moving listlessly through the desolate street ahead.

The crumpled city buildings surrounding them remain stone, metal, and glass tombstones marking what had once been a thriving city. Sure, Omaha wasn't on most people’s lists of must-see places, but it was home to about half a million people before everything went to shit. Everyone said the next world war would be biowarfare, but I don't think anyone expected this.

Almost two years ago the war that we initiated led to some of the greatest losses our world has seen. Our president, over half the government, most celebrities, didn't make it. However, some cities still have a few straggler big names. They worship them as if each were equivalent to Oprah or Taylor Swift. I saw a statue that stood three stories high of that lead actor from that show Smallville. What was he even doing before the end of the world?

The statue resides in New York City, one of the few areas that could protect much of their population. The process to get into a city like the Big Apple is more difficult than airports after 911. Thankfully the line is short as there's only about 10 million people left in the United States… if you don't count the infected of course. They make up about 115 million, at least according to the last stats they’d transmitted to Atlanta, from where I just ventured.

A few months after the outbreak began, I left Omaha looking for the only person left in the world who mattered to me and didn't think I’d ever make it back. In the beginning it seemed like all normalcy would be lost forever. But as I trekked across the country I saw the cities building themselves back up from the death and debris. They got a communication system up and running so they could keep track of the progress all over the country. They reassembled a military and some interesting variations of governments. Each city has their own unique way of rebuilding and managing the infected and protecting the uninfected.

Apparently whatever Omaha had done wasn’t enough. The walls surrounding the old town area were in shambles and the infected infiltrated the safe zone from numerous places. When they’re angry there isn’t much that can stop them. Especially once they find a weak point. Like wolves taking down their prey, they are merciless.

I pat Lena’s head then give her the signal to stay behind. She watches every cautious step I take as I make my way to the edge of the concave wall. Once I’m tucked against the stones safely, I peer around the corner. There are at least twenty infected shambling around with no purpose.

Now, it’s funny. We were prepared for zombies… but that’s not what these turned out to be. They still breathe and their hearts still beat, but inside? They’re dead. As in, they just don’t feel anything anymore. No happiness, no purpose, no drive. Most died off in the beginning because they stopped getting out of bed, which meant they stopped eating or going to the toilet. So, if they didn’t die from infection or starvation, they would eventually stop caring enough to keep breathing.

Now, here I am, standing in front of the ghost of my hometown with nothing but skeletons left for me. My fingers instinctively grab my locket again as I creep forward, sticking to the shadows. Thankfully, the infected are barely functional and their senses are duller than dull. They eat whatever they can find, but from what I’ve seen that isn’t much. And just like me, they will die after so long without food or water. So their human nature deep down requires them to find food and water sources. Unfortunately it doesn’t discriminate. Fruits, vegetables, grass, bark, birds, squirrels, dogs, even humans… can be their next meal. I’ve seen it all. Thankfully Lena is faster than them all and smarter, too.

I make it to the first building but none of the infected notice my presence. I just need to get what I came for and get the hell out. I continue along the backside of the building, careful to not step on anything that might attract unwanted attention.

As I corner the building I see what I’m searching for already. The safety shelter. While I was in Atlanta they received a transmission about Omaha’s fall. The voice was erratic and terrified and cutting out consistently, but so very obviously hers. All this time I’d been traveling, following signs that didn’t exist hoping they would lead me back to her. And I suppose somehow they did. If I hadn’t been in Atlanta the last four months making my way into their security detail, I wouldn’t have been there when she sent out her emergency beacon. I wouldn’t be here now staring at her last known location.

She’d called from the shelter with the last of the Omaha population desperately trying to stay alive. Atlanta’s government told me not to go. That it would be a waste of time because I would never get here fast enough. It took me weeks but here I am. And there she is. Or whatever may be left of her.

Getting to the building is easy and I stealthily make it inside without disturbing the debris around the doors. The sunlight sinking in from the cracks in the windows, walls, and ceiling reveal a reception desk about ten feet in front of me with halls on either side. I peer down the left one first and see a blockade of office equipment and furniture piled to the ceiling. To the right is an open pathway cluttered with office debris. I grab my hunting knife, bracing it against my palm and wrist.

There is an all too familiar stench that permeates through the air and only grows stronger the further I go. I pull up my makeshift neck cowl to cover my nose and mouth. It helps, but not enough. There is nothing that can cover up this much death.

The second private office holds huddled corpses. Judging by the worn Minnie Mouse shoes, at least one of them was a child. From there, the amount and size of the bodies become blurs of decaying flesh. I glance long enough to look for her long black hair, her deep brown skin, her golden heart shaped locket that matches mine. In both necklaces is a picture from our wedding and an inscription that reads If you’re lost, you can look, and you will find me. Our initials are inscribed on the back – M&J. Margo and Jane. In a locket that would stand the test of time. Or so I hoped. Because I had to know. At least then I could stop looking around every single corner expecting to see her face. Not just here, but anywhere. Because everywhere I look I see her. I see her in faces on the street, in photos on the wall, in dark and empty rooms at night. I see the curve of her lips, the arch of her eyebrows, the deep brown and green hazel of her eyes.

At least I may finally get closure after two long, horrible years.

As I peer through every window and turn every knob, the twisting of my stomach gets progressively worse. I become clumsy and careless. Shifting from window to door and back and forth across the hall, no longer caring about the noise or the attention I’m drawing. She has to be here. Somewhere. Because if she’s not–

Something shifts in a room two doors down and stops me mid-step. The door is cracked open and I hear further shuffling inside. I clutch my knife harder and prepare for a fight. I know if I run backward I’ll draw the ones in the street to Lena and myself which would result in being chased by far too many infected to outrun. So depending on the amount, my only option may be to stay and fight. Or hide.

I press my back against the wall and tiptoe forward, my eyes never leaving the small crack in the door. So far no shadows have passed by. I bring my arm around front holding the knife in my hand like my father taught me as a child. Something presses on the door as I approach and shuts it entirely. I hesitate, debating if I should pass by the door or stay and investigate.

I take a deep breath. I came for answers and if they were behind this door then goddamnit I was going to find them. I kick a rock laying before me and it hits the edge of the door frame with a loud smack. Instantly whatever is in that room stops and is soon clawing angrily at the door. I hold up my knife when a voice comes from down the hall and pulls my attention from the now opening door.

“Margo?”

And then the thing in the room tackles me, taking me to the ground. It scratches at my chest arms, and face. It’s an infected, but just one I think.. When it raises its head exposing its teeth I realize this is my sister-in-law. I thought she’d died long ago..

Before her teeth scrape my skin the person down the hall tackles her off me. The fabric of my cowl is torn into jagged slices.

My wife pounds her fists against her own sister’s head until she stops fighting. She isn’t dead, but unconscious judging by the slight rise and fall of her chest. Then Jane looks at me with those eyes. Except they don’t look like her eyes anymore. They are dull now, no longer a picture if spring but more like a gray winter. Her skin is ashen and her hair is long and knotted. It takes me a moment to realize she’s saying something to me but the word is like glue for her to spit out.

“Run!” she yells again, louder and more clearly this time. “Margo, run!” she growls at me like a feral animal. “Run!”

She’s looking frantically from me to the direction she came from. There are noises like creatures waking from hibernation early. I look at her with horrified, wide eyes and say, “Come with me .”

She shoves me back and a crazy, pained expression flicks across her face and I realize she can’t come with me. She can’t leave. Because she’s infected. And has been for a while based on the concave shape of her cheekbones. She shouldn’t even be able to speak now. Let alone care about someone.

“Run,” she croaks again, her voice weak like a drained battery.

So I run, at first backwards so I can see her face a few seconds longer. Then when they come and she throws herself at them, I turn and run faster. I get through the entrance as quietly as possible and watch for more infected in the street as I bound over the same debris I’d maneuvered around so carefully before.

I’m able to get outside the broken barrier without anyone noticing me and Lena is waiting not far into the trees, right where I left her. At first I see the happiness in her face that always brings my heart a little joy, but then as she sees my desperate and sobbing state, her eyes grow wide as she nudges her head into my hand and leads me away as fast as we both can run.