Page 6

The End

AMAIA

This is the end. It has to be. Please let it be.

The world did not end with an asteroid, or climate change, or super volcano. No. No one considered that the world would be brought to its knees by an unfathomable scenario.

Society did not crumble, one empire after another. Humanity destroyed each other, yes. But the world I now lived in, the world I was forced to survive, I don’t suppose an author or screenwriter could properly depict it even if they tried.

Hell. Chaos. Death.

So much death.

That about summed it up. Death lingered in the air, complementing the permanent stench of rotten eggs and the taste of metal coating my tongue. I was foolish to have left without my gas mask, grabbing my bug-out bag in such a hurry. I had been careless and arrogant in ignoring my dad’s insistence on keeping my mask in the bag for this exact situation. Okay, maybe not exact .

My mom and I had teased him relentlessly about his doomsday prepper hobby, insisting that years in the military had muddled his brain. A career based on preparing for the worst, most inconceivable situations could do that to a person. Joke was on me, I guess.

A tear dripped down my face at the thought of never being able to tell him he was right, the opportunity gone along with my parents. Only hours ago, the cell towers had connected for a brief moment. Long enough for my best friend Sammy to get through to her family and check in, while I impatiently tried to reach my own. The line didn’t even connect. In truth, I knew they were gone. There had been a sense of finality in my father's last text. No texts from Sloan popped up and mine hadn’t delivered. And then Sammy was gone too.

At least she got to say goodbye. The door behind me thudded against my skull, the impact catching me off guard. A deep growl hummed near my feet. Harley’s tail tucked and ears flattened against her head.

“Shh, it’s okay, girl. It’s okay,” I cooed, crouching down to rub her silky black fur. My hands shook in unison with the door behind me, a series of groans and guttural screeches finding their way beneath the door.

I just needed a second to think. Put together a plan. Lack of planning put me in this situation to begin with. The smart thing would have been to head back to my apartment on day one with Sammy in tow. It would have been safer, and there would have been a better chance of making it to the storage unit on the other side of town alive. Probably would have been easier to stock up on ammo and weapons the first day too.

Hindsight’s 20/20, and I had been too weak to make my move then, anyway.

And now, I was out of options and forced to face my new reality. The key I needed to retrieve my own weapons was behind the door I leaned against, my mask too. I wouldn’t be able to make it across town and to wherever was next without them. My dead slash undead fiancé slammed his body against it. You could try a gun store . But chances were, there was nothing left worth risking my life. Especially unarmed.

Fuck it , I thought as I rammed against the now unlocked door. There was no plan that would get me what I needed. I had no weapons other than one of the hunting knives from my bag, and our studio apartment left little to no room for improvising. My best chance would be to bum-rush past him and try to maneuver my way back out. I had the speed, and if I had to, I could fight my way out. I’d always been able to hold my own. My dad had made sure of it.

I rammed the door open hard enough that Xavier was thrown into the wall. The stun of the impact bought me half a second before he lunged, narrowly missing my body as I fell onto my back, scrambling to get upright again. Frantically, I searched for my knife now tossed somewhere around the room.

My fingers grazed sand scattered on the floor from the shattered hermit crab tank. Xavier was on the ground now, on all fours, dragging himself near me, jaw slack. Broken, I realized. Probably from the thud against the door. He looked worse from the last time I’d laid eyes on him. Left him. Abandoned him like the awful person I realized I was becoming. His once warm, brown skin was now ashen and visibly clammy. His eyes, empty.

A yelp escaped my throat as Harley closed in. “No!”

I reached for her, not wanting her to be in harm’s way as sand rose through the air, hovering for just a moment before flinging toward Xavier’s neck and face. The movement so swift, I nearly missed the crystallized fragments that entered his body. Dark brown blood oozed from his wounds, the pain not registering as his jaw clattered at an unnatural angel, still reaching to connect with my skin.

In the grip of panic, my feet refused to lie flat against the floor, trying to process how I had done that. If I had done it. He lunged again, this time connecting with my shoe. The thick sole of my boots prevented his teeth from piercing my skin. Harley whimpered, not sure what to do or how to protect me, bringing his attention back to her.

I rolled to my knees, kicking my feet free, ready to place myself between them. My hands burned, breaking my focus momentarily. Ow . What? Shit. I shook my hands as flames kissed the palm of my hand. It wasn’t burning me, but the heat of the flames had startled me enough for me to want them gone. Unsure how to put them out, I grimaced as I placed them against Xavier’s shoulders. I didn’t want to hurt him—merely wanted to push him back and away from us both. They went out before we touched.

Time froze. Xavier glanced down at his body, pausing as if registering that he was not on fire. I took advantage, using the precious seconds to leap toward the junk drawer in the kitchen’s island. Eyeing Xavier stumbling and failing to get to his feet, I rumbled around, tossing items out in search of the key. Got it . Something bumped into my calf, drawing my gaze down. Harley backed into my leg, body tense and ready to protect.

Xavier dragged himself across the floor, closing in inch by inch as I backed against the wall, ready to grab Harley and leap over him. She dodged my grasp, circling Xavier and barely missing his reach.

“Please,” I begged them both. “Please stop. Harley, come here, girl. Come to momma.” She ignored me, her snarl threatening. Warning him not to get closer. One blink and Xavier’s teeth were latched onto Harley’s hide. An agonizing yelp of pain filled the air. My body covered hers in an instant. A heavy, throbbing sensation shot through the back of my leg. I didn’t need to look back to know what happened.

Using my body weight, I tossed my free leg away from my body, thrusting my arm back and forcing him beneath me. Straddling his waist, I reached for my knife on the ground. Harley limped to my side, relentless in her attempt to keep me safe. I searched the hollow, empty eyes beneath me, trying to find any piece of the man I had loved trapped inside.

I’d been holed up in Sammy’s apartment for a week. The only up close and personal encounter with the undead being Xavier and the elderly couple who had grabbed Sammy on our way out hours ago.

Before this, I’d often wondered if my life was threatened, or the people I’d loved were at risk, if I’d choose fight or flight. Everybody wants to be the badass. Imagines themselves the hero. The person who’d save the day and be fearless. Shit, I thought that would’ve been me.

Flight had won out each time.

Xavier wiggled under me. His arms flailing around, trying to find something to take hold of to free himself. Clammy fingers found themselves rooted in my scalp, weaving their way through my curls and yanking my head back.

“Xavier, stop. Listen to me, it’s me! My love, I need you to hear my voice. Focus,” I said, pleading with him to fight whatever sickness this was.

His grip tightened, pulling my body up enough to find leeway, his jaw clenching around my wrist and drawing back. The pain seared, forcing me back forward to keep him from tearing away my skin.

“Baby, please,” I begged. His only response was to bite harder.

My knife entered his chest. No relief. I pulled it free, driving it in again. Nothing. No sign of him feeling a thing, no grumble of pain or sign of weakening. No . No, you can’t . Another dive into his torso. Hollywood had a habit of getting things wrong for the sake of cinema, but something told me they had gotten this one thing right. Desensitizing us to what would eventually come to fruition.

“I love you, Xavier. I love you forever,” I choked out, tears streaming down my face.

I drove my blade into his skull and his body went limp beneath me.

Time sped back up. Hours passed; Harley lay in my lap as I sat leaned against the island cabinets. My body trembled. Did I kill him? Oh God, he was still in there. He thought I burned him; he could feel pain. I killed him. I’m a murderer. I killed him. I’m a killer.

Xavier’s body sat a few feet away, unmoving and lifeless, as the last two years of our life together passed through my mind. The late nights talking in bed, planning our future. Double dates with friends, creating new holiday traditions of our own, saving for our first house together.

All of it for nothing.

He had died a week ago, and I would die next to his body today. I rocked Harley back and forth, waiting for time to claim us and the disease to take hold. There was no panic. I wasn’t sure if animals could turn, but if she did, once she did, I’d keep myself from hurting the next person. Take myself out of the equation. There was no need for another threat to be unleashed into this world, ruining someone else’s chance at whatever future remained. I’d seen all the movies and shows. I knew how infections worked, how they spread. I’d put an end to it right here.

“I’m sorry, Harley girl. This wasn’t how I imagined we’d meet our end, but at least we’re all going together.”

My eyes opened; daylight streamed in through the smog-filled sky. Awakening back in my apartment was strange after a week away, but Xavier’s body cleared up any confusion the morning had brought. I shook Harley, making sure she was still with me as she startled awake. Her hind leg gave out from muscle tension around her wound, but she was alive.

My eyes shot to my leg and wrist next. On the verge of infection, but my consciousness was still in place. Pushing to my feet, I limped over to the bathroom, stepping over the fragments of the door to stare at myself in the mirror. Curls were strewn in every direction. My bun was now a small cluster held in place with a scrunchie, a bald spot on the side from Xavier’s grip. But my face was normal. Red scratches littered my cheeks and jaw. Blood had dripped down my now torn pants onto my brown skin, but I wasn’t infected.

At least not yet.

I wouldn’t let myself harbor on that, setting into motion and grabbing a bottle of ninety-eight proof alcohol off the bar cart near the door. Sammy and I used it for party punch. My hands shook at the thought of how we’d never do that together again as I brought Harley’s bed toward her, motioning for her to lie down.

“This is gonna hurt, but it’s okay. I’m here with you,” I said, rubbing her to calm her down. I poured the liquor on the wound, not giving her time to react as I pulled a treat off the edge of the table, offering her immediate gratification.

Pulling my pants down, I grabbed Xavier’s work belt off the chair he’d grown accustomed to using to store random items of clothing at the end of a long day. Grimacing, ready for the pain, I placed it between my teeth. “My turn next.”

Grunting at the ironically relieving pain, I moved on to my wrist, patting both areas dry before dropping to pull a bandage from my bag. Wrapping Harley’s wounds, then my own, I pulled on another pair of cargos from my closet and grabbed my gas mask from the corner.

Placing the storage key in my pocket, I cloaked Xavier in the throw blanket from the couch, kissing the top of his head. “Goodbye, my love. I’ll find you in the next life and whatever comes after that.”

Taking a swig from the bottle I’d used to treat our wounds, I double checked my mental list. It could be the difference between life and death if I left prematurely, only to find out I needed to grab something else I would need out on the road. I’d packed whatever dog food, medication, and canned goods I could carry into the remaining space in my bag and then placed Harley’s leash around her harness.

I took one last look around the room, what had been my home, our home .

“Harley girl,” I said, “This is going to fucking suck. No, screw that, it’s going to hurt like hell to get there, and I don’t even know where there is. But this isn’t our end. Nope, our story has just begun.”