Reset (15 page)

A flicker of light caused John to immediately wake up and open his eyes. He shut them when he felt the pain. It was all encompassing. There wasn’t a spot on his body that didn’t hurt.

Emotionally he was crushed. Even thinking about Meredith and Grant caused a physical pain in his chest.

It had to be morning. Although he couldn’t feel the heat of the sun, he knew he had to still be on that road. His mouth was dry. His arm and legs burned, the slightest movement caused a pain to shoot up his back and through his abdomen. He probably had been knifed.

His friends were gone, his supplies diminished. For all he knew,
John believed he was probably fatally injured and would die at any moment.  Gutted and left to die on a highway.

Why didn’t they finish him off?

He didn’t have any strength, none at all, he was completely drained. But did he want to lay there, rotting in the sun, a carnivore feast for the animals to enjoy?

No. John decided, sick or not, in pain or not, he was going to try to move. He wanted to try to get up and wander off to die with dignity. Just like his dog did years before.

John moved his fingers to grip the ground.

He paused in shock.

He groaned out a ‘huh’ in confusion and opened his eyes.

It was bright, but not daylight bright. Where was he? He turned his head to the right. A burning shot up his neck. When he did, he not only saw an open window, he saw Meredith.

She rushed over to him.

“Oh my God. You’re awake. I didn’t think you’d ever wake up.”

His eyesight was blurry, but he could clearly see Meredith. Her face was swollen and bruised, her left eye complete shut. Her lips twice their normal size and crusted over with fresh scabs.

John was immediately overcome with emotions. At first he couldn’t speak. He huffed out breaths and his eyes welled with tears. “You … you’re alive.”

Meredith grabbed his hand and moved closer. “So are you. You had me worried. You’ve been out an entire day.”

“Where … Where …”

Meredith turned her head and shouted. “Rusty. Come quick. He’s awake.”

It took John aback. ‘Rusty?’ he thought, and then against his will, he passed out again.

<><><><>

Home.

How many times did he have to stop on the side of the road to vomit? How many times did Malcolm black out on the drive? Passing a sign that said it was three hundred miles to Denver, and then in the next second, it was only two hundred. He had ingested nearly every ibuprofen, every antibiotic pill and used the entire tube of ointment.

He wasn’t any better, in fact, Malcolm knew he was worse. The only thing that kept him going was the fact that the farther north he drove the less overgrown everything was.

Nature hadn’t claimed that area, which meant to Malcolm that people had lived there longer. Of course it could have been a hallucination. He had plenty of those.

The best one he had was the old Spanish man with the straw hat, parked on the side of the road with a camper. Malcolm even slowed down for that one so he could read the hallucinatory sign that the man held.

‘Last stop for corn fuel before Salvation.’

He figured
that
sign was his sign he was dying soon.

After waving to the man, Malcolm picked up speed again. He was close to home.

His house was on a large lot of land. Malcolm had purchased it not long before the explosion in New York. It was a private home, with a road that was gated. It was once a government testing site for new aircraft, and Malcolm snatched it up for a steal and built his own home right on the land.

The gate was closed and surprisingly not overgrown. He paused the buggy to open it, pulled through, closed it again and drove up the driveway.

When he reached the top of the small grade, something wasn’t right. Was he hallucinating again?

The entire yard around his house had been made into some sort of farm. It wasn’t overgrown at all. The fields of green were organized and there was a new barn erected off in the distance.

Either he was imagining it or someone had purchased his home after they told his wife he had died.

The house was in remarkable shape. Clean and not worn. When he saw it, he knew, he had slipped from lucidity into his own world, because his home was nothing like he had seen.

Even the city of Denver was barren and in some places burnt.

Not his home and not his property. They were blessed and unscathed. Malcolm stopped the buggy and with wobbling legs stepped out.

Immediately, he cried and dropped to his knees.

He made it.

After taking an emotional moment, he stammered to a stand, walked up the three steps to the porch and opened the screen door.

He expected his wife to run to him. After all, he was in a dream.

The inside of the house, though clean, was different. There was very little furniture and it had a burning smell to it. He walked through the ranch home’s entry hall and into the family room.

The old green couch was still there. That and a sofa table were the only furnishings. Pictures in frames spread out on the table.

Malcolm took a single step toward them.

“Can I help you?” The male voice called out.

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm said weakly and turned around.

A man stood there. He wore a tee shirt and jeans, was sweaty and had a glaze of dirt on him as if he had been outside working. His hair was thick and wavy. He was older than Malcolm, maybe pushing fifty. He held a bat, almost as if he was prepared to use it as a weapon against the intruder.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Malcolm said. “I used to live here and …”

“Oh my God,” he dropped the bat and ran to Malcolm. “Dad.”

Jason didn’t need the time he claimed he did. In fact as soon as the battery showed enough charge, they left and headed to Cleveland.

They talked about returning to his home. It was a good option to settle. It was already prepared for a non-electrical world and it did have the well water.

Cleveland was closed. Just the same as nearly every city they passed. Borders set up, barricades keeping people out and in. While it wasn’t fenced in, Cleveland resembled Nashville. A city submerged in a new forest. The big difference was there weren’t any cars. No sea of traffic at the city’s exit ramps.

To Nora, it looked abandoned.

One thing was for sure, they couldn’t drive through. Nora took them, as close as she could to her home, and after hiding the buggy, they walked.

It was hard to find a point of direction, a recognizable landmark to follow. The moisture and humidity from the lake caused everything to be covered in moss.

After making it to her neighborhood, Nora was able to gauge where to go. Some of the small buildings and shops had crumbled. Some had trees that had taken over and grown straight through them.

She found it hard to breathe. Even though Nora convinced herself that she wouldn’t find her family, it still crushed her when she arrived at her home.

It, like the others, looked like an old shed abandoned in the woods. The roof had partially collapsed, the windows broken.

Her shoulders dropped and she looked at Jason. “Told you they wouldn’t be home.”

“We need to go inside,” he said. “We need to see.”

“They aren’t there.”

“Maybe there’s a clue. Nora, we have to. You have to.”

She wanted to say, ‘No, I have seen enough.’ But she didn’t. She took a few steps toward the house and stopped. “Can you go in first? I don’t want to see remains.”

“Absolutely.” Jason grabbed his flashlight. Even though it was day, the wooded area was dim as he walked to the house.

He couldn’t get the door open and he climbed through the first floor window. After a few moments, he emerged from the side. “Come around back. It’s fine.”

Nora thought there was no way it was fine. What possibly could remain at the house?

Apprehensively and with some fear, she went inside. As soon as she stepped through the side door, she knew, her husband hadn’t sold the home; in fact, the house was empty not long after she had presumably died.

The furniture was the same. Every piece was moss covered. The light green substance grew on the walls and every surface. Going upstairs wasn’t an option, it just wasn’t safe with the roof collapsing.

When she walked into the living room, a mouse scurried across the floor and ran into the couch which was full of holes.

“If I knew you were coming, I would have cleaned up,” she joked halfheartedly.

Jason gave her a closed mouth smile. “Where did you keep things? Pictures? Papers? Anything that could possibly tell us what happened to your family.”

“In the kitchen, the junk drawer. Upstairs in my room. The pictures …” She looked around. “The pictures are gone.”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked.

“Yeah. The girls’ school pictures and our family picture on the wall. Gone.” Nora turned left to right. “Maybe he sold the house. Maybe he just left the furniture and sold it.”

“You check here, I’ll go in the kitchen.”

Nora nodded. After Jason walked out, she examined the living room. It was surreal. Two weeks ago, in her mind, she was complaining that no one ever vacuumed and now the carpet was a pool of slime. The television was the same, the drapes the same. The two books she never finished reading were on the shelf.

“Nora,” Jason called from the kitchen. “Come here.”

She walked across her small first floor and into the kitchen. Jason held an envelope in one hand. It was moldy. In another, he held up paper, two sheets stapled together. “Rick was your husband’s name. Who was Catalina?”

Breathy, Nora answered and rushed to him. “My youngest. Why?”

He handed her the papers. “I found this on the table under the centerpiece. There are no contents in there other than this. Read it.”

Nora did. “Dear Mr. Lane. We are pleased to inform you that you and your daughter tested positive for the immunity factor to MES5. Enclosed please find a copy of your application and your admittance papers for Salvation. Please bring the certificate of approval along with proper identification on the date the facility opens.”

“Salvation? That must be the place you theorized about. You said it. You said they put everyone together.  Nora, this means your family is alive. We need to find this Salvation. Is there a location?”

“Yeah, it’s right …” Nora flipped the page. She closed her eyes.

“What is it?”

“Lilly died. The application has her and I both as deceased.”

“Any dates.”

“Lilly died six months after I went into stasis. Wait this can’t be right.” She flipped back and forth.

“What is it?”

“The facility open date.” Nora looked at him. “It’s fifteen years after we went into stasis. Jesus, Jason how long were we out?”

<><><><>

Rusty had a full head of hair and a beard to match, and not a strand of it wasn’t gray. He more than likely was pushing seventy, but it was hard to tell. He could have aged badly, after all, it was a harsh world.  He didn’t look like a man who was starving either. A healthy built man with a few extra pounds. In fact, John worried that he was slated to be Rusty’s next meal. How was he not starving in a post apocalyptic world?

“You looked pretty pathetic on the side of the road,” Rusty said, helping John sit up in bed. “Like road kill. I thought you were dead until the woman called out for help. Both of you were in bad shape. My son and I loaded you in the cart and brought you back here. She woke up before you. At least you ain’t stupid. That bleeding head, you could have been rendered stupid. Then again, you were in Wrecker Land.”

Meredith asked. “Wrecker?”

“That’s what we call them. Wreckers. The ones that claimed the land. Well, what was left of it in these parts. They only come out at night. Most of them are products of post war. Their parents tried to stay. Not right in the head and can’t see too well. Sun bothers their eyes. Catch them in the day, you can run right around them. Boy they did a number on you.” Rusty whistled. “Course, you’re not too right in the head being in that area at night.”

“How come they don’t come after you?” Meredith asked.

“I live too far for them to walk, plus my dogs will tear them up.”

“What were you doing there?” John asked. “I mean, when you found us.”

“It was daylight. I was duck hunting. Since DC took a nuclear nosedive, the swamp lifted and the ducks are plenty.”

“DC?” John asked. “Nuclear nose dive. When?”

“During the war. What? You been living under a rock?”

“More like in a refrigerator,” John said. “Pretend I don’t know anything. What would you tell me?”

“Well, you ain’t from Salvation or you’d know. Plus, you wouldn’t leave there.”

“Salvation?” asked John.

“The place where all good immune go to live out their lives normally away from the rest of the shithole world. It’s huge. Never could get in there. They said I wasn’t immune. Ha. What do they know?” Rusty said. “So we bide our time out here. We do well. Got horses, a nice farm.”

“When did they build it?”

“Christ.” Rusty looked up to the ceiling. “They started building the wall on year three of the virus. Took a while to complete. That was after the war, though. Was a short war.” Rusty winked. “Took out everything north of here. All along the east coast. Gone. Dust. Probably not dust anymore, but things don’t grow.”

John was trying hard to process what he was being told, decipher it and get information. There was no way Rusty would understand that he and Meredith had been in stasis.

Then Meredith asked. “Rusty, how old were you when the virus first broke out?”

“I wasn’t young,” Rusty answered. “Hard to recall.”

“Think,” John said. “How long ago was it that the virus began?”

<><><><>

“Thirty years. Or it will be thirty years in September.” Trey said as he placed a steaming cup of tea before Malcolm. “Dad, you really don’t look well.”

“I  ... know. I’m sick. My arm is bad. But I have to know.” Malcolm said. “I have to.”

Trey joined him at the table. “This is unreal. I knew it. I knew it. I told Mom you weren’t dead.”

“They probably dismissed it as you not accepting it.”

“They did. But my gut kept saying you weren’t dead. I wanted to go to New York to the explosion site, but they closed it off. There was an exodus from New York shortly before the virus. It was weird, too, we were one of the first people to get the vaccine.”

“Trey, I am so sorry. I am so sorry that we fought before that.”

“Me, too.” Trey reached out and laid his hand on Malcolm’s.

Malcolm looked at his son’s hand. They were worn and old. “What about your mother? Your brothers?”

“They didn’t make it. They passed away. I stayed here. Made this a farm.”

“I missed your life.”

“You missed a mess. Be grateful for that.” Trey said. “The terror attack. The president was killed …” He paused. “Or so we thought. The new president vowed revenge on the attack and just sent out troops. Then the virus broke out in Singapore. From what I recall, it was a big deal because right after, it was discovered that it was deliberate. The president came on TV and told how he uncovered the plot by some organization called the Genesis group. They tried to stop it, Dad, they did.”

“How?”

“Shut down all infected cities. Shut them down. Locked people in. No questions asked. They found the flight information on where the virus was released. All around the world they quarantined cities. But it didn’t help.”

“How long ago was this?”

“I was in high school. I never finished because they shut it down. Then, countries started blaming the U.S. for the virus and the war escalated, we were hit with nukes. The East Coast is gone. Several bases. We surrendered.”

“We what?”

“We surrendered. But then before any details of that surrender were hashed out, the virus just... Raged.  It looked bleak and then in spring, it stopped. By then, the world was in disarray, trying to pick up pieces.”

“Trey, it’s been thirty years. Where is everyone if the virus stopped after a few months?”

Trey whistled. “That was round one. It came back, mutated, took out a good chunk of the population and stopped again. By the third outbreak, they started building the wall. Violence was everywhere. If the virus wasn’t killing people, people were doing the job. It was a means to protect those who wouldn’t get sick. The virus hit like the Bubonic Plague, like the flu, it came seasonally, it conquered, and it went dormant. I think it finally stopped about ten years ago, maybe less.”

“The wall?”

“To Salvation. It took four years to build it. Thirteen hundred miles from Duluth to Montana. They built it where it’s cold and the virus barely touched. It’s where I’m taking you to get that arm looked at.”

“Salvation? They named it Salvation?”

“Yeah, it’s life. It’s the world you remember protected behind a wall. A big one too.”

“How do you know it’s still there?”

Trey laughed. “Uh, Dad, you think I eat this food. Mr. Diaz and I manufacture the corn fuel for them. Go up there once a week. And really, we need to go before sun down. It’s a good three hour drive.” He stood.

“I can’t. I have to get to a town called Champaign, Illinois. The others, the ones with me, we’re meeting there.”

“Dad … listen to me. It may have only been weeks since you saw me, but it’s been decades since I saw you. I am not losing you now. Please.” He held out his hand. “Your friends will find Salvation. They will.”

Malcolm didn’t have the spark in him to argue. He was sick and without help, more than likely he would die.

Trey was right, he lost his father once.

Malcolm let his son down before, and even though he committed to meeting the others from the Genesis project, he owed it to his son.

He took another sip of his tea, and grateful that he still had his son, he took Trey’s hand and followed his lead.