Cold

Barren trees and desolate plains mirrored the hearts of the three hopeless survivors trudging along without aim or reason. The world was turning, the year progressing, but the ground remained frozen, stiff and unfruitful.

A harsh wind swept across their laboring bodies, and it bit to the core of them, mocking their meager, tattered clothes. As the weak sun reached its peak they stopped for rest again. They slumped to the ground with a hum of sighs. But the rough, ragged breathing that typically followed any movement was hushed, and for a moment even the bitter wind seemed to mute itself.

Jeremy, a smallish man with cracked glasses, was silent. He, his wife, and their sons had joined the group when there was a group. Some had recognized him as the personable optometrist from the cheesy commercials which had run on television before the world had fallen into permanent winter. They had welcomed him, thinking his skills could be beneficial, and they certainly had been an asset, but it was the families’ humor, and their zeal for life which had really been most needed and was most appreciated. But now Jeremy’s wide eyes searched the world aimlessly, and all of that joy was absent. He peered back along the path they had traveled, as if searching for the twisted bodies of his loved ones, which had been left unceremoniously on the side of whichever road they had been on, and then he buried his face in his hands.

Gabriel and his daughter Anna Marie observed Jeremy, unable to provide comfort. Anna Marie, walked a short distance away and stumbled to a scarred, solitary tree. She touched it, hoping beyond reason for life and warmth, but the remaining bits of bark fell away like burnt flesh. She quickly pulled her hand away and a wave of dizziness overtook her. She was so hungry, and seemingly in response to the acknowledgement her stomach twisted, begging, and she leaned against the tree to steady herself.

Several weeks ago they had still been part of a group. They had been following main roads through towns and cities, helping, fighting, and hiding when appropriate. Some of the more opinionated members of the group started campaigning to leave the main road in the hope that there would be more opportunity to scavenge remote areas. They argued that the group would be able to more readily provide for itself, and perhaps even settle, if they could manage to find a consistently clean source of water. Tom, a former high school football star turned coach, led this charge and was certain that much of the land away from anything man-made was as, “pristine as the day God had created it!” Gabriel knew, given the starkness of the everyday, many of the group members would be easily won over with these arguments.

“C’mon people, it’s obvious, isn’t it? This thing, was caused by man,” although the issues of politics and finding fault had faded long ago for most who remained alive, “so if we get away from the roads, the towns, and the diseased peoples left crawlin’ around, we’ll be just fine,” Tom roared. He avoided eye contact with those among their group who could be categorized as diseased. “Imagine it! No more huddlin’ in ditches and being worried about people tryin’ to steal what we got, and no more scrougin’ in abandoned buildings that have already been run through a half a dozen times, just us livin’ happily off the land, and startin’ over!” The faithful to Tom, and those newly converted, whispered excitedly, but Tom knew whose opinion would carry the most weight, “What you got to say about that, Gabe?”

Gabriel’s jaw set. He had never liked Tom, he didn’t like Tom’s so called plan, and he hated being called Gabe. He stood apart from those who had gathered wide-eyed and hopeful around Tom, but now most of the others waited expectantly for approval of their plan. Gabriel delicately held his wife’s heart shaped locket in his hand, he wished the picture was larger. He wished he could see her face, and the faces of their other two children clearly. He wished he could hold them, that everyone would stop looking at him, and that this could all be over.

“Honestly Tom, I think your idea is absolute shit,” Tom’s chest puffed defiantly as Gabriel continued, “First, stop acting like you know what the hell is going on or what caused it. Second, have you seen what we’ve been walking through and dealing with? What in God’s name makes you think it is or can be in any way contained? The whole world is dead, and just because you can somehow manage to raise your voice still, doesn’t mean you’re right. And it certainly does not mean we will be following at your whim.”

The group huddled in silence, mouths gaping at what Gabriel had said. While Gabriel was never a wellspring of optimism, he was been consistent and sure, a pillar for those in the most need despite his own heartache. He was also usually right.

And his words echoed. The world is dead. The whole world.

Tom stood uncertainly, and a defeated, maniacal chuckle slipped from Jeremy as people shifted listlessly.

“But there has to be something, right, Dad? You said so yourself, that we were going somewhere better,” Anna Marie, with tear-filled eyes, nearly whimpered. Gabriel’s resolve in the hopelessness crumbled as he looked to the ashen face of his daughter.

“You’re right, I did,” he stammered, searching for words he could not find, hope he did not have, as he folded her gently into his arms, “I’m sorry, we’ll do whatever the group thinks is best.”

Tom babbled, trying to displace the uncertainty, but Gabriel paid no attention as he placed the locket around Anna Marie’s wraith like neck, and smiled at her as best he could.

Tom felt triumphant for days following the discourse. They rummaged through a nearby gas station and an apothecary before heading down winding back roads and unmarked terrain. Anna Marie had to pop into the small apothecary twice to urge her father, who had been diligently reading and searching, out as Tom was ready to get them moving.

Tom led the group earnestly and many of them unearthed a new sense of bravado, even with Gabriel’s warning lingering.

The triumph was short lived.

On a particularity turbulent day while crossing a field, something Jeremy and Gabriel warned against, a massive lightning storm descended upon the group. Without any hope for shelter they were decimated. Tom was among the first to go, and Jeremy’s family followed shortly after, but there was little time for grieving. The aftermath of this newest tragedy was an even more destitute and lost group with virtually no supplies, and terrified eyes that all looked to Gabriel for answers. He had none, so they continued their march, with death following closely.

Anna Marie could only guess how long ago the lightning storm was. She sat looking at her father and Jeremy, wondering if maybe they were the last people alive on Earth, or maybe this cold had not even taken hold everywhere. She contemplated this and held the locket to her lips, her father had warned her she may lose it if she kept removing it from her neck, but she liked the way the chain felt in her hand, the small weight of her family in her palm.

Jeremy and her father seemed quieter, more still, than usual. Her father stood with effort, and he looked in her direction, she waved weakly, he waved back. She smiled as she looked to the sky. She took one last ragged breath, and the the locket fell softly to the hard earth.

“Somewhere better,” Gabriel whispered. He surveyed Jeremy’s hollow, clutching body near him and he sat. The apothecary shop stop had proved useful and the items Gabriel had found had done the deed. He didn't know if what he had done was fair, he figured it wasn't, but he had been tired of the pain. Anna Marie and Jeremy had slipped off slowly, without pain, and now Gabriel sat alone. It had been simple enough to slip the oils into what little water they had. No one questioned the taste, there wasn't enough of anything to question what they had. Gabriel had taken his does later and he waited as it worked through his system.

He looked to his daughter as his eyes fluttered closed, and there was stillness then, silence.