Read Resurrection (Apocalypse Chronicles Part II) Online
Authors: Laury Falter
Resurrection (Apocalypse Chronicles Part II) (37 page)
The city was cleared fairly quickly, in a matter of days, with the help of small private planes launched from O’Hare. Explosives duct taped to containers of the antidote were launched from those planes and detonated over the city. It was rudimentary, but it worked. When it did, talk began about helping our neighbors across the rest of our country and then across the pond, and at that point efforts began to mobilize toward Europe.
Our service to our country ended there with a military salute on an O’Hare runway, and our small unit began to pick up the pieces of our lives. Doc and Mei went home and, to our astonishment, found their parents holed up inside their houses, having returned there to await rescue. Funny thing was, they didn’t expect it to come in the form of their own family members. The reunion was tearful, so Beverly stayed outside.
As a form of closure, Beverly’s father was finally given a proper burial, in the same cemetery as where my dad was laid to rest, the same place where Harrison and I first interacted. Mei stood beside her parents and Doc beside his.
As of this writing, that was the last time we saw them…Doc, Mei, and Beverly. Harrison and I hadn’t quite made it home yet. We needed to go just a little farther. Our small unit will meet up again, though, having made the promise to reunite once a year in Chicago, at our high school’s front entrance on the day of our resurrection.
Before Harrison and I left, we strolled to my dad’s grave, pausing a few feet shy of it. Something was different, and I knew immediately what it was. Somehow, Mei and her stealthy maneuvering had made it there first and delivered what I couldn’t so long ago. The silver throwing stars were propped up against the stone marker, just below his date of birth.
How she ever managed to keep them safe or retrieve them after they were used so often I’ll never know. But she was correct. There was no longer a dire need for them. They could be his now.
In the serenity, Harrison released my hand and knelt down before the gravesite. When he began, it was almost a whisper and I understood clearly that he wasn’t speaking to me.
“Mr. Shaw, my name is Harrison Hutchinson. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your daughter. We’ve survived a lot together and through it I fell in love with her.” He stopped and his voice dropped further, almost inaudibly. “But you already know that don’t you, sir? You’ve been watching her along, guiding her through it, haven’t you?” From his profile, I watched as Harrison’s lips turned upward in a reflective smile. “If you’ll allow me, I can take it from here. Rest in peace, sir. You deserve it.”
Harrison and I left the cemetery then and trekked south across the country, optioning the use of the cars when gas could be found and traffic jams could be avoided. We slept mostly in the open, because that was the safest place now. We passed more cities than I care to count that stood like remnants, nearly untouched but vacant, which had become the modern day equivalent of ghost towns. But there was a single, unquestionable sign of life in a few of them, and the inhabitants’ way of showing it stunned us. On their billboards or across the sides of buildings they had written the words, “Be Your Own Hero”, a phrase that felt like it would last longer than was originally intended. Harrison had used it to get a girl off a tree branch and to inspire me to survive long enough to help humanity endure, but like those of us who have lived through the outbreak that message flourished to become something more, stronger and defiant against improbable odds.
The day we breached the hill overlooking Harrison’s family ranch was one I’ll never forget. It was nestled in green valley, a cluster of wood buildings surrounded by a sea of grass. I stopped and took in the sight of it, unable to pull my eyes away. Harrison noticed, came to a halt, and peered back over his shoulder.
“Are we there?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, “we’re finally home.”
A few days passed when a large man with a square head and meaty shoulders rode up on horseback. Harrison greeted him as “Cro”, whose name I recognized immediately. The man who had raised Harrison also had the foresight to ride out the infection in the back country. He gave Harrison a bear hug and me a handshake. Not many words escaped his lips for the first week after our meeting, but I knew I’d earned his allegiance when, after being left alone for a few minutes in front of the kitchen fireplace, he stared at me and announced bluntly, “I’m sure about you, Kennedy.”
Cro and I removed the hooks, blades and prods from the barn where Harrison’s father had tried to bleed and pound the anomalies from his only son. Afterward, the structure stood empty, just another vacant building in our quiet world, but it held the ghost of memories for Harrison. I could see it in his eyes. And as I torched the wood a day later, one thought weighed heavily on me: Where would we be if his father had been successful…
The idea of it still sends sharp fingers prickling up my spine.
The threat of the infected remains with us among those still underground and who haven’t come out from behind airtight doors. There was one woman who had locked herself in a panic room only to find herself bitten. She turned there and remained inside until a team could drill a hole and send the vapor into the room. At least that’s how the rumor was told.
I hear there’s a new form of government, a counsel, being created somewhere in Kansas. This makes sense, not only by proximity but because most of us who survived the infection reside in rural areas. They’re assembling, routing resources where they are needed.
People have started calling this our Resurrection Era, which I think is appropriate, having been through a resurrection of my own.
Because of the ongoing threat, Beverly continued the work we started with a small but industrious group of rescuers working the north. I am still amazed at this, at how a girl who was excited to find talc after the outbreak so she could run it through her hair to make it less oily, was still kicking in doors when she had the chance to step down. I hear she’s expanding her units and only responds to the acknowledgement of “General” now. There is no doubt in my mind that she’s actually forming the basis for our new military. Harrison agrees.
Harrison’s aunt remained in the north to continue developing large quantities of antidote. There were still people out there who needed it. Of the areas that have been “cleansed”, the affects of the virus haven’t returned, but they’re continuing to monitor it.
Doc and Mei, as I understand it, planned to start a school. She would be the teacher and he the athletic director. I hope they pursue it. It seems fitting.
Being out on the wide open range, news is sparse. But there are a few things we do know.
I know that Ms. Kremil had been correct. She had recognized that if I were ever to be bitten Harrison would do everything in his power to find the cure. He did, and because of it, because of him and that singular effort of love, humanity was saved.
I know that my nightmares have come to an end. Harrison released my dad from his duty and I haven’t suffered from a single one since.
And I know why the Infected were drawn to Harrison. The answer came to me one day as I observed him walking. That simple act, the one that drew me to him in the first place, the exhibition of his strength and virulence, was what gave me the answer. He is the perfect host, perfect in every way. To the virus, there was no greater specimen on earth. But it didn’t get him. I did.
As I finish this account, I sit in the cradle of his arms. He is watching me write, his chin resting on my shoulder. The warmth of him along my back and his earthy scent comfort me. We’ve just finished dinner over an open fire—pan-fried white bass and rice for me, a piece of raw steer for Harrison. The campfire will die to embers soon and Harrison and I will fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms with the stars overhead, free from nightmares, free from fear of what lies ahead.
We are together and together we do impossible things.
The End
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1.
On their first meeting, Harrison told Kennedy that she would be her own hero someday. How did she fulfill that expectation?
2.
Would you risk your life to save the survivors trapped inside the grocery store?
3.
Why does Beverly insist on ending Christina’s life after she is infected? Has Beverly grown throughout the duration of this book?
4.
How has the past and his interactions with others shaped Harrison?
5.
In survival situations, which do you feel dominates: self-preservation or humanity?
6.
What do you feel are the main themes in this book?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laury Falter is a bestselling author of young adult romantic suspense and urban fantasy, including the
Guardian Trilogy,
the
Residue Series,
and the
Apocalypse Chronicles.
Find out more news and information about Laury and her novels at:
Website:
lauryfalter.com
Twitter:
twitter.com/LauryFalter
Facebook:
facebook.com/pages/Laury-Falter/196033543803745
Goodreads:
goodreads.com/author/show/4061922.Laury_Falter
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