and over. I was exhausted. I couldn’t fight him—he was too strong. In that moment of defeat, an angel came to rescue me. One of the infected freaks tore into the room and bit him in the neck.”
The foul smell of decay slapped Abraham nostrils, bringing the horrors of the mill to life.
“In the end, Rictor survived, and he drove a screw driver through its rotten brain until nothing was left but mush. Without a word, we stared at each other from across the room. I stayed close to a lamp and imagined smashing it across his forehead. It was in that moment that your broadcast came over a shortwave radio near the nightstand.”
“I thought for the longest time I was talking to myself,” Abraham said, feeling at ease. “And those infected freaks are no angels.”
Sam canted her head and disagreed by shaking her head. She would have been Rictor’s had the infected thing not come to her rescue.
“Rictor pleaded with me to help him to the gas station. He apologized a thousand times. What choice did I have? I was hoping maybe you could help me find my brother. By the time we reached the old station, he was starting to change. He took me by the hair and locked me in the freezer.” The poor girl was shaking from head to toe.
“It seems the universe gave him what he deserved.” Abraham noticed a shift in the wind, and the smoldering smell of fire subsided.
“Were you serious about heading to Denver? On the radio you said you thought about it. Was that for real?”
Abraham chewed on her words. Would he leave his farm? He hadn’t given it serious thought until he discovered the nest a few miles away. If she had asked him a few days ago, he would have said no, but now the infected were within striking distance. It would only be a matter of time. “The thing is… nobody who’s gone to Denver has ever come back.”
“Why would anyone leave a city with food, wine, and power? You’ve seen what the Rocky Mountains have become. Or did you lie about wanting to go to Denver?”
“I didn’t lie.” Then, why did he feel guilty? “I like you, Sam, and I’ll give it a hard thought. But for now, we must keep moving.” He had taken an interest in the southern girl. Maybe this was fate or the hand of God guiding him toward one of his missing children. That, of course, made him think of his loving wife, Beth. Beth was a timeless beauty frosted with age. Most of his family was still alive and accounted for, and for that he was grateful. The world had taken a turn toward hell; it was fading. Or was it dying? He holstered his pistol and continued on toward the farm in silence. He needed time to reflect. He needed answers to his many burning questions.
V
“Look,” Samantha said, pointing through the cords of branches.
Abraham followed her finger, fighting the annoying stab in his heart. He winced as if his eyes had deceived him. He followed the tip of the dirt road downward, past the staked fence, all the way to his worn farm house. He saw white paint smeared across the two-story barn.
INFECTED: STAY AWAY, it said in bold, bright letters.
You got to be shitting me, he mused.
“Is that your farm?” Sam asked, touching her lower lip.
Abraham looked at his warm home dotted in emptiness, feeling as if a part of him faded with the wind. The durable house was full of character despite its many imperfections. In a way the humble home had reminded Abraham of his own beat-up persona. Now it was tainted.
Without another word, he ran. Hysterical, he shouted his wife’s name, then his eldest son’s. As he stumbled down the narrow pathway, small runnels of rock and sand crumbled down with him. Mad in sorrow and thought, he leapt across a trifling crevice and continued in haste. His face was full of detestation and every carved etch was highlighted in the blood light of the early hour. He thought of his wife’s expression, innocent with age. It cannot end this way . There are sorrows too great and troubles that
The foul smell of decay slapped Abraham nostrils, bringing the horrors of the mill to life.
“In the end, Rictor survived, and he drove a screw driver through its rotten brain until nothing was left but mush. Without a word, we stared at each other from across the room. I stayed close to a lamp and imagined smashing it across his forehead. It was in that moment that your broadcast came over a shortwave radio near the nightstand.”
“I thought for the longest time I was talking to myself,” Abraham said, feeling at ease. “And those infected freaks are no angels.”
Sam canted her head and disagreed by shaking her head. She would have been Rictor’s had the infected thing not come to her rescue.
“Rictor pleaded with me to help him to the gas station. He apologized a thousand times. What choice did I have? I was hoping maybe you could help me find my brother. By the time we reached the old station, he was starting to change. He took me by the hair and locked me in the freezer.” The poor girl was shaking from head to toe.
“It seems the universe gave him what he deserved.” Abraham noticed a shift in the wind, and the smoldering smell of fire subsided.
“Were you serious about heading to Denver? On the radio you said you thought about it. Was that for real?”
Abraham chewed on her words. Would he leave his farm? He hadn’t given it serious thought until he discovered the nest a few miles away. If she had asked him a few days ago, he would have said no, but now the infected were within striking distance. It would only be a matter of time. “The thing is… nobody who’s gone to Denver has ever come back.”
“Why would anyone leave a city with food, wine, and power? You’ve seen what the Rocky Mountains have become. Or did you lie about wanting to go to Denver?”
“I didn’t lie.” Then, why did he feel guilty? “I like you, Sam, and I’ll give it a hard thought. But for now, we must keep moving.” He had taken an interest in the southern girl. Maybe this was fate or the hand of God guiding him toward one of his missing children. That, of course, made him think of his loving wife, Beth. Beth was a timeless beauty frosted with age. Most of his family was still alive and accounted for, and for that he was grateful. The world had taken a turn toward hell; it was fading. Or was it dying? He holstered his pistol and continued on toward the farm in silence. He needed time to reflect. He needed answers to his many burning questions.
V
“Look,” Samantha said, pointing through the cords of branches.
Abraham followed her finger, fighting the annoying stab in his heart. He winced as if his eyes had deceived him. He followed the tip of the dirt road downward, past the staked fence, all the way to his worn farm house. He saw white paint smeared across the two-story barn.
INFECTED: STAY AWAY, it said in bold, bright letters.
You got to be shitting me, he mused.
“Is that your farm?” Sam asked, touching her lower lip.
Abraham looked at his warm home dotted in emptiness, feeling as if a part of him faded with the wind. The durable house was full of character despite its many imperfections. In a way the humble home had reminded Abraham of his own beat-up persona. Now it was tainted.
Without another word, he ran. Hysterical, he shouted his wife’s name, then his eldest son’s. As he stumbled down the narrow pathway, small runnels of rock and sand crumbled down with him. Mad in sorrow and thought, he leapt across a trifling crevice and continued in haste. His face was full of detestation and every carved etch was highlighted in the blood light of the early hour. He thought of his wife’s expression, innocent with age. It cannot end this way . There are sorrows too great and troubles that
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