Prepper's Sacrifice (12 page)

Chapter 13

Four days later

Perched over a bucket that had already been emptied out twice that morning, Anne was holding onto the last bit of life she had left. It wasn’t the way she thought she’d leave this world. Even in the height of the pandemic, she strongly believed that if anyone would survive, it would be her and Stewart. However, circumstances had changed and she’d accepted her fate.

Across the room Stewart sat with his fingers knotted together. Anne stole glances at her husband, trying hard to think of the good, to remember his face when it wasn’t fixed in a frown. Her mind wandered back to that day when she’d told him she was sick. She’d insisted that he kept whatever happened to those men a secret but now, felt as though it was time she heard the truth.

‘Stewy,’ she mustered up all her strength to say, ‘what happened to those guys?’

‘My Anne, my beautiful Anne,’ he replied.

Anne didn’t feel very beautiful. She felt her body disintegrating bit by bit. She felt worn, tired, overwhelmed and exceptionally dirty.

‘What happened to them, Stewy?’

‘I’m so sorry Anne. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. I should have insisted that you stayed upstairs; that you didn’t get involved at all.’

‘Did you…’ She paused, feeling as though she needed to make use of the bucket again. ‘Did you kill them, Stewy?’

‘No Anne, of course not. Of course we didn’t. Tim and I brought them to the hospital. The one who grabbed you, he was sick. He’s the one who did this to you. He’s the reason you’re…’ Stewart sighed loudly. ‘It’s all my fault. I should have…’

‘There was nothing more you could do Stewy, nothing more.’

‘But I…’ His voice cracked. ‘I should have protected you.

‘Stewart,’ Anne said matter-of-factly, ‘if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it this far. You’re the reason I survived. You’re the reason that I was able to live such a fulfilled life, a life I never dreamt was possible but a life that was complete.

Anne watched as her husband wept, unable to reply. She wanted to tell him that it would be okay—that even if she didn’t make it much longer, he should push on. He still had a purpose in this world. However, the vision of him became more and more blurred by the minute as her weak eyes forced themselves closed.

***

Stewart placed his hands over his eyes, peeking through the minuscule holes between his fingers. He wanted to take in each moment of Anne but hated seeing the life drain out of her. Her beautiful face didn’t glimmer the way it once did but even in all its dullness, she brightened up his world. There was no staying strong, not now. Every night for the past few days had been a night where he cried himself to sleep. Every morning was a morning he cried while awake. It was time, he knew that. If only he could have five more minutes to apologize for all the things that he may have done wrong. If only he could have another second.

He made his way over to Anne’s bed. Smoothing the blanket over her body, he whispered, ‘Anne, I love you more than you’ll ever know.’

She whispered back, ‘Stewy, I love you more than you love obsessing about prepping,’ before slipping away into a sleep that Stewart had no chance of waking her from.

When that last breath escaped her, Stewart felt as though someone had sucked the life right out of him too. He knew that the world would never be the same; that the sun would never shine as brightly. However, a part of him, even if a small one, knew that Anne was better off now. She’d suffered enough. She wasn’t in pain anymore.

Chapter 14

Life after Anne

It wasn’t easy, lowering his wife’s body into the hole in his garden only to dig her up a few days later for a proper burial in the local cemetery. There was nothing fair about a cure being found only once his wife had died.

Life after Anne was difficult. After she’d passed, he sank into a depression that he thought he'd never escape. His days had consisted of sitting out in his garden, staring at the spot he’d lowered her body into. Each moment he spent outside was another moment he hoped that someone would snatch him from the earth and take him to a world where he could exist beside her. The finality of death was something he didn’t comprehend until then. Sure, he was extremely sad when his parents died. However, they were old and he found solace in knowing that they’d lived a complete life. Anne, on the other hand, should've had years ahead of her; years that had been snatched away by the lethal virus.

‘Tim.' Stewart turned to his friend who hadn’t left his side since hearing about Anne. ‘I just don’t know how to move on. I don’t know how to
want
to live.’

‘I know that there’s nothing I can say to take the pain away and I’m sorry. I really am sorry that things ended this way. But Stewart, you have to know that Anne would have hated seeing you like this. She
hates
seeing you like this—I know, deep down, that she’s watching you from above. So, whenever you’re feeling like all is lost, just remember that she wants you to do better.’

Having Tim around really did make things easier—as easy as they could be during a time like this. ‘I just miss her, is all. I miss her so much. Every morning that I wake up, I think that she’ll be there and she’s not.’ Tears streamed down Stewart’s face. He forcefully wiped them away with the back of his hand. ‘This is just not fair. It’s not supposed to end this way. We were prepared. We had everything we needed to survive.’

‘Let’s go back to the house, Stewart. You’ve been sitting out here for over an hour now. Get something to eat. Try to rest and try to live the life you know she wanted you to have.’

‘The cemetery is where she is and so the cemetery is where I belong,’ he insisted, gripping the green grass in his hands.

‘This isn’t what she would want for you. You need to know that. Anne would want you to try to be happy. I know that’s not possible right now, but I’m thinking that there’s a way that we can make strides in the right direction. Anne doesn’t have to be forgotten. She can be remembered. Not only by you and me, but by everyone in this community.’

Stewart perked up as his interest in Tim’s words grew. ‘How?’ He sniffled.

‘We can start a foundation for her. We can help people in her honor. There are so many broken families, so many people who don’t know how to survive even with the cure being found. We can help them.’

A smile crossed Stewart’s face. ‘You’re right,’ he agreed.

***

The Anne Waters Foundation

Stewart filled his days with helping those who had lost love, lost hope or lost everything they owned. Tim had been the one to pull him out of the rut he’d found himself in, to tell him that life wasn’t over and that Anne lived on through him. He found a sense of revival in helping others. Though his stockpile was nowhere where it was when this whole thing started, it was still good enough to help, even if the smallest amount. Being able to make his way to the city center meant that he was able to gather small amounts of supplies when they became available. He’d even turned to the items that he had obtained through bartering, pawning them and giving the money to those in need. All of this was done through the Anne Waters Foundation, a charity he had started right as things picked up and people were starting to find their grounding again.

It’s what Anne would have wanted
, he told himself each time he did a good deed. Not that he needed reassurance that what he was doing was indeed a good thing; just that mentioning her and thinking about her made him feel better. It made it seem as though, in a way, she was there, guiding him in the right direction.

Her life may have ended, but her legacy lived on.