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The red flag on the weather worn mailbox was lifted and it tilted on the post. Even beaten by the elements, the names Brad and Cindy, painted on the mailbox were still readable. Only Brad’s name had a huge black ‘X’ over it.

The mailbox rested at the edge of a fenced in property, grass had grown well over the height of the fence, and the gate was barely held on by the hinges.

Malcolm and Amy followed the tire tracks and that lead them to the gate.

They paused there.

“Where do you suppose they go?” Amy asked. “I mean they use the road regularly, right? Or else it would have grown in.”

“There’s a whole world out here. Maybe they went for supplies, there are farms in this area. Maybe other survivors.”

“Let’s go look.”

Malcolm nodded and moved the buggy forward. They turned the bend and drove on a gravel roadway. Parts of it were overgrown, but it was clear someone had been driving on it. They turned another bend. Large trees greeted each other from both sides of the road creating a tunnel effect. When they emerged from it, they reached the home.

A truck was parked on the huge front lawn in front of an old one story home. The wooden siding was worn and the paint chipped away. It looked barren.

Malcolm stopped the buggy a good twenty feet from the truck. He didn’t turn off the engine. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“Someone is here,” Amy said. She opened the door and stepped out.

No sooner had she done that, the front door opened, the screen door slammed outward with a squeal and a woman, just as weathered as her home stepped out with a shotgun.

“I suggest you get back in that space vehicle and be off.” She aimed at them, then engaged the chamber. “Go.” Her voice was harsh, raspy. Her blonde hair was straw like and she wore a man’s shirt.

Amy raised her hands. “Ma’am, we are sorry for trespassing. We are. We don’t mean any harm, we just …”

Then the woman screamed. It was maddening and out of control. “Go! Get out. I said leave. Go!”

Malcolm moved for his door and the woman swung her aim his way. Knowing the buggy offered no protection without a roof, he sat back down, lifted his hands and whispered. “Amy, get back in.”

“You have three seconds,” the woman warned.

“Ma’am, we’re leaving.” Malcolm said, “Amy get in.”

Amy ignored Malcolm. “Ma’am. Cindy, right? That’s your name it’s on the mailbox.”

“One.” The woman counted.

“Amy, get in.”

“We’re sorry, we just need to ask…”

“Two.”

“Amy, Goddamn it. Get in.” Malcolm scolded, lifted some from his seat and reached out for her.

Amy swatted him. “This is ridiculous.  We just …”

“Three.”

The woman fired.

A single shot rang out and echoed across the hollow and barren land.

It happened so fast, Malcolm barely registered it. The shot hit Amy somewhere on her right side. The force of the hit blasted her like a spinning top, around and backwards, slamming her into the side of the buggy with a ‘thunk’.

Malcolm let out a scream, shoved the buggy in gear and lunged forward to grab Amy as she slid downward.

“Should I count again!” The woman yelled and pumped the chamber once more.

“Let me get my friend!” Malcolm had a grip on her left arm, and without getting out, using all of his strength, he pulled her toward the buggy,

Amy was alive, and with rubbery legs stood enough to roll into the buggy’s passenger seat.

As soon as she was in, Malcolm tossed it in gear, backup, spun around and sped as fast as the cart would move. He kept driving, going from looking back to looking at Amy who had slumped forward nearly on his lap, her leg half out of the vehicle.

Down the gravel road, through the gate and onto the field, Malcolm didn’t stop until he was sure he wasn’t followed. Then he tossed the buggy in gear, bringing it to a jolting halt.

“Amy.” He breathed heavily and lifted her gently to sit back in her seat. When he did, he saw her entire chest was saturated with blood. Her right arm was completely gone and there was a gaping hole in her chest where her shoulder should be.

Amy’s face was completely drained of life, eyes wide open.

He whimpered, touching her face. “Amy. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her lips moved, and her eyes rolled back. “Malcolm.” She said weakly. “For me. Find out what happened. My family. Please.” On her last words, her head slumped forward to his hand and Amy died.

He was at such a loss. One of the only people he knew, had left in the world, had died. In that empty field, he just wanted to break down. He was in complete shock. Malcolm trembled, not knowing what to do, where to turn. He turned off the power to the buggy. In danger still or not, truth was, his melting pot of emotions at that moment had beaten him, Malcolm couldn’t move.

Finally Jason started to talk. It took a good half hour into the trip before he said a word, and the conversation opened up with his history of carsickness.

Nora offered to pull over and let him drive if that would help. He declined.

“I’m good for now,” he said.

“All the way around?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when we first woke up down below, you were positive and upbeat.”

“I was vague about everything, it was surreal. Once reality kicked in with my memory, it all hit me.”

“I understand.”

“And really, can we be positive and upbeat right now. This sucks, Nora. Sucks. We don’t know how long we were in stasis, it was at least a year. They didn’t tell our families we were alive. So they suffered believing we died. It’s a heavy load to carry.”

“There’s a reason that we are alive.”

“Yes, someone decided that we were prime specimens and needed to be saved for a rainy day.”

The corner of Nora’s mouth lifted in a smile. “That’s a really good analogy.”

“It works. How are you? Honestly?”

“Scared. I have a painful knot in my stomach that isn’t going away. We woke up to tragedy. We woke up to a different world. Only none our families may not be a part of it. Every time I think of it, I get sick. I’m inwardly obsessing about it. I am going over it in my mind, what I’ll do if I can’t find them. What next? Once I realized who I was, I realized I missed them and love them so much. But when I realized what had happened, I also realized I may never see them again.”

“I hear you. We weren’t there for what they went through. We were robbed of being there.”

Jason got ‘car sick’ and Nora had to pull over. He wasn’t sure if it was the ride, the heat or his emotions that caused him to get ill. Stopping the buggy just outside of Franklin Tennessee, didn’t make things any easier on him. At least emotionally, it was completely different than the highway or even Redstone Arsenal.

They both knew when they got back in the buggy, it was going to get more difficult by the mile.

The amount of foliage increased the further they drove north, until they could barely pass on the road. Vines and trees crept through the concrete highway, there was no distinguishable ‘side’ of the road, and it was as if the highway merged into a forest.

Nora stopped and stepped out of the buggy and peered ahead. “What did we miss?”

“Apparently, a lot.” Jason, too stepped from the buggy, only he spread out a map. “We’re five miles from Nashville.”

“Where is it?”

“Beyond the trees.”

“This isn’t right,” Nora said. “I mean, how can this be so overgrown and Redstone wasn’t.”

“I don’t know.” Jason grabbed a bottle of water, took a drink and stared at the map.

“We can’t drive through. We don’t know how thick this is or how deep this goes.”

“I say we give it a try. Go as far as we can, see what’s ahead.”

“Keep in mind, once the sun is blocked out, we have one hour of power or we’re gonna be stranded until the battery recharges.”

“I still say we chance it. Once the reserve light kicks on. We power down or turn around. Either way, I think we need to see.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Nora got back in the driver’s seat and waited for Jason.

They only made it a mile and three quarters before the reserve light kicked on and they powered down the buggy and decided to walk a little farther to see what was ahead.

Nora focused on her footing, more so to make sure they were still on the highway. The deep arms of nature that reached out across the road, lessened some as they moved further.

“Maybe we could have taken the buggy,” Nora said. “What do you think?”

“Possible but …” Jason picked up the pace, just a little and moved ahead.

“What is it?” Nora jogged to catch him. He had stopped and was slightly bent over pulling vines and tossing them to the side.

“Concrete barriers,” Jason said. “They go straight across the highway to the side of the road.”

“You think they’re on the other side?”

Jason shrugged.

Nora assessed. The median strip was apparently trees beforehand and now they were completely full. “We could go see.” She suggested.

“It all depends. I mean, why concrete roadblocks. To stop people from coming in or from leaving.”

“Both maybe.”

Jason climbed over the barrier, waited and held out his hand for Nora.

It was awkward for her, they were just a bit too high for her to comfortably step over. When she did, her foot caught and tangled in something. “Wait. Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“‘I’m stuck on something...” She stood balancing on one leg, the other leg was extended on top of the barrier.

“Hold on.” Jason grabbed her ankle.

“Is that a rope?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He pulled it loose, then drew it in, to see where it came from.

Nora brushed off. “What are you doing?”

“I just wanted to see where it went. They barricaded and roped this place off.”

“But where are the cars? Everywhere else had cars right up to the barricades.”

“This is bizarre.” Jason ran his hand over his head and turned clockwise. “What … no.”

The tone of his voice dropped.

“Jason?”

“No.” He took off running.

“Jason, what do you…?” Nora never finished asking. Because she knew what he saw, why he reacted. At just the right angle she caught a glimpse of it, but after running to catch up to Jason, she saw it fully.

“What the hell.” Jason slipped his fingers through and gripped the high link fence. It was thick, at least fifteen feet high with three feet of barbed wire on top and unlike the concrete barriers, it was easy to see that the fence extended to the left and right with no clear end in sight. Beyond it was a sea of cars buried in high grass and bushes. The cars extended as far as they eye could see.

“They put a fence around Nashville?”

Jason visually scaled the fence, and darted to his left. “It’s a gate.” He reached for it and pulled. “Stuck.” He kicked it. Vines and roots had grown around the edges making it impossible to move. When he stepped back he saw it.

A sign or at least it looked like one. It was attached to the fence a few feet above his head.

Ignoring Nora’s questioning, he climbed up and used his hand to clear the dust and dirt on the three-foot metal sign. It was at least two inches thick and he had to use his fingernails to pick it apart.

His legs ached and arm weakened from holding on, but he was diligent, especially after the first portion cleared exposing the word ‘Quarantine’

He lost his breath as the remainder of the words began to clear. Jason peered over his shoulder to Nora. She stood below, her hands on hips, watching him.

“This is where the first plane carrying the virus landed,” he said. “And the reason for the fence.”

“How do you know?”

The rest of the dirt fell, the sign was faded but clearly visible.

The words on the sign were bold.

“Warning. Quarantine Zone. Ground Zero.”

<><><><>

Greg’s impatience worked Meredith’s nerves to the point she just wanted to shake him, yell and blast him to “grow up, the world you knew is gone!” she refrained, and instead she ended up grabbing whatever she could when they left the highway medical camp. What she really needed was more time to decipher the papers, what they were, and dates on them.

She failed.

What she grabbed was useless. Names and numbers with dates that just stopped. It left her to wonder if those who worked the camps quit keeping track all together.

The world had fallen apart but didn’t do so with consistency.

Some areas looked like they were only a year post apocalypse, some looked like years and one area, appeared decades. But Meredith kept that opinion to herself. Grant grew more unhinged the farther they traveled.

They made good time and distance on the first journey and Meredith was grateful for stopping. They set up camp off the road in what looked like an old rest area. It was overgrown, like everything else. It was a break from driving. She needed that. The buggy wasn’t a smooth ride. It drove slow and daunting and offered no protection from the elements.

John was a good traveling companion. He spoke about his family, but Meredith noticed he did so in past tense. Almost as if subconsciously he accepted their fate.

Meredith was perhaps the most prepared mentally and emotionally. The only thing she had to lose was her reputation and job security. No family, no significant others, her circle of friends were limited to acquaintances because she traveled a lot.

The virus ravaged world just didn’t have the modern conveniences.

She could live with that.

Like Malcolm and Amy they had a lot of miles to cover. New York then Connecticut. She didn’t question why she went; after all, she could have stayed back or headed to the meeting place. Meredith was certain she wanted to know what happened to the world.

There were paper maps at Marshal Flight center and Meredith took one of the United States. It wasn’t for traveling, John had that. She used it for notes along with a spiral bound notebook she found.

She started marking the maps with her own, markings she called, “Phases of the Apocalypse’.

When Meredith was nine, the house next to her was tore down. It was nothing but a lot. That same year, in science, Meredith learned about the stages of nature. The ecosystem. She distinctively and always remembered her science teacher saying, “If you see an empty field, watch it. If it is untouched, in ten years there will be trees”

So Meredith noted the changes in the lot next to her house.

Of course, she lived up north, where the climate was different. Devastating winters delayed growth. Had she lived in the south, in the humidity, growth would be different. A real telltale sign for her would be to see Washington DC which was built on swampland. If it was void of humans for ten years, it would be completely green.

All those were factors into why she labeled an area what she did.

Redstone was a Phase One. It was under two years since people had been there. The Medical Camp was also a Phase One. Yet ten miles down the highway it looked like a phase two, vegetation had grown so much it, it could have been five years since a soul had stepped foot there.

Phase three was five to seven years. Phase four took it to ten and Phase five was more than ten years.

Meredith found a quiet spot to spread out her data. John had asked her to keep him informed, and she would. Once the light of day had diminished, she used the lantern to illuminate her reading. It was tough and she had to strain her eyes, but she took notes as she studied.

The medical camp was more than a camp, it was a make shift hospital. From what Meredith read, people traveled hundreds of miles to get there. To be cared for in tents in a barbaric way, tossed into a fire when they died.

She imagined family members just dropping off the ill. Meredith wanted to know the virus, the symptoms, and the time span. How long was a person ill? How ill did they get? Nothing like that was mentioned in the archives of papers she had.

Only, Red, Blue, Yellow.

The color of the flags.

When a person was marked ‘red’, they were without any uncertainty going to die. Yellow was an undetermined fate and blue meant it looked good. So, like the president originally said, the virus wasn’t supposed to kill everyone that got it.

Harrison stated millions died by the day, but at that rate, it would take years for a virus to wipe man into a point of extinction or at least such a minimal population that the world looked empty. And it did.

Where was everyone?

Where were the animals? The birds?

The world was void of life. In Meredith’s opinion it had been empty a lot longer than they could imagine or wanted to know.

<><><><>

Was it guilt that he felt? Malcolm was pretty certain it was sadness as well. He just didn’t know why he felt that way.

He didn’t know Amy all that well, yet he felt the sense of loss and guilt. He wished he knew the woman better. Although technically he had spent a few years with her. The thought of that actually made him smile on such a gloomy day. He likened it slightly to his first marriage, he spent a few years with her as well and never really got to know her before she left either. Perhaps that was why his oldest son, Trey, has such issues with Malcolm leaving for business trips all the time.

Not that Malcolm was gone all that long. It was only for a few days at a time. Sometimes at most a week. And he always made it up to the children when he returned home. But Trey always threw the guilt and anger at him. He hated when Malcolm left and made him pay for it emotionally. A therapist once told him it was Trey’s insecurities with abandonment. He was afraid that Malcolm would go away and would not come back.