never end, but he never imagined his home falling to the decay of the infected. This was a world that had died in that drumming moment.
Coming to a stop at the front door, he studied a mandatory evacuation notice pinned to the panel frame. Unable to sit still, he exploded through the unlocked front door and studied the milky foam spread thickly over the living room walls. It reminded him of the remnants of a fire extinguisher. It was bubbled and an ivory color that gave off a sick, sweet smell.
“Beth,” he wailed, fumbling toward the stairs. She has to be alive . Bleeding through the curtains in his bedroom was the putrid color of red.
The storm raged on in his feeble mind, and Abraham couldn’t gage the reality of the situation. “Beth!” he shrieked, moving across to the guest room, where his eldest son was keeping some of his things. “Where did they go?” His arms seemed to seek out the walls as he staggered back down the swaying stairwell.
“Why!” he shouted, collapsing to his knees. He fell forward to his hands and lowered his drumming chest toward the stained floor. Still, he clawed his way back into the living room and scooped a hand across the end table, knocking off a bottle of medication. His quaking fingers had trouble gripping the bottle, and even more opening the childproof top. He hadn’t used the heart medication in two years, and when he broke the top, he swallowed the pill dry. Falling inch by inch to the floor, he rolled to his aching back.
“Beth,” he gasped.
“Here,” Sam said. She nudged a glass of water to his dry lips and gave it a tilt. “Drink up, sugar.” After, he felt Hunter grip him under his arms and lift him to the couch. There would be answers in a few moments, but for now, he knew he needed to close his eyes and rest.
“You will not steal my wife,” he whispered. “You will not touch my family!”
Sam brushed his fevered brow with her dirty hands and hummed a beautiful old tune. In a haze, and then a blur, Abraham listened to Hunter’s heavy footsteps running through the house. The world distorted, and minutes later, the boy settled in the cozy chair across from him. Abraham knew better than to ask if he had found anyone. If Hunter had, he wouldn’t have been shedding tears like a snake skin, hard and abrasive.
Abraham worried about his family. He closed his eyes as he was taken back two years ago. One year after Red Dead first stained the sky in blood. The same night he suffered his first heart attack. The same night he lost Robb to the war.
***
The blistering illumination of Red Dead burned the sky. The thick, cream-colored curtains were pulled tight, though it wasn’t enough to keep the glow out of his bedroom. Red Dead had entered the solar system one year ago, the exact day the accursed Civil War began. The mountains promised his three sons, two daughters, and handful of grandchildren priceless safety. Leaving the congested city was the smartest thing he ever did, or so he thought.
The Neutral Zone Federation promised a safe haven for families wanting to escape the Civil War, but Denver was constantly patrolled by the Federation Military. The Mile High City felt more like a refugee camp under martial law. In the mountains, Abraham and his family relished their freedom. Both the North and the South signed the Treaty of Life and respected the neutral ground of Colorado, Utah, and Kansas. Surprising enough, only a few Americans sought sanctuary in the safe zone. Everyone else was sucked into the bloodlust of combat.
The Civil War enlisted every nation on the planet. The political lies came hard and fast. Each side had its own warped version of freedom and liberty. Abraham always used to tell his children that freedom in this country was an illusion. Nobody is laughing anymore. Stuffing the feathered pillow over his eyes, he wondered if all of the hard fighting had something to do with that alien planet. He knew the elect would never spill the truth as he
Coming to a stop at the front door, he studied a mandatory evacuation notice pinned to the panel frame. Unable to sit still, he exploded through the unlocked front door and studied the milky foam spread thickly over the living room walls. It reminded him of the remnants of a fire extinguisher. It was bubbled and an ivory color that gave off a sick, sweet smell.
“Beth,” he wailed, fumbling toward the stairs. She has to be alive . Bleeding through the curtains in his bedroom was the putrid color of red.
The storm raged on in his feeble mind, and Abraham couldn’t gage the reality of the situation. “Beth!” he shrieked, moving across to the guest room, where his eldest son was keeping some of his things. “Where did they go?” His arms seemed to seek out the walls as he staggered back down the swaying stairwell.
“Why!” he shouted, collapsing to his knees. He fell forward to his hands and lowered his drumming chest toward the stained floor. Still, he clawed his way back into the living room and scooped a hand across the end table, knocking off a bottle of medication. His quaking fingers had trouble gripping the bottle, and even more opening the childproof top. He hadn’t used the heart medication in two years, and when he broke the top, he swallowed the pill dry. Falling inch by inch to the floor, he rolled to his aching back.
“Beth,” he gasped.
“Here,” Sam said. She nudged a glass of water to his dry lips and gave it a tilt. “Drink up, sugar.” After, he felt Hunter grip him under his arms and lift him to the couch. There would be answers in a few moments, but for now, he knew he needed to close his eyes and rest.
“You will not steal my wife,” he whispered. “You will not touch my family!”
Sam brushed his fevered brow with her dirty hands and hummed a beautiful old tune. In a haze, and then a blur, Abraham listened to Hunter’s heavy footsteps running through the house. The world distorted, and minutes later, the boy settled in the cozy chair across from him. Abraham knew better than to ask if he had found anyone. If Hunter had, he wouldn’t have been shedding tears like a snake skin, hard and abrasive.
Abraham worried about his family. He closed his eyes as he was taken back two years ago. One year after Red Dead first stained the sky in blood. The same night he suffered his first heart attack. The same night he lost Robb to the war.
***
The blistering illumination of Red Dead burned the sky. The thick, cream-colored curtains were pulled tight, though it wasn’t enough to keep the glow out of his bedroom. Red Dead had entered the solar system one year ago, the exact day the accursed Civil War began. The mountains promised his three sons, two daughters, and handful of grandchildren priceless safety. Leaving the congested city was the smartest thing he ever did, or so he thought.
The Neutral Zone Federation promised a safe haven for families wanting to escape the Civil War, but Denver was constantly patrolled by the Federation Military. The Mile High City felt more like a refugee camp under martial law. In the mountains, Abraham and his family relished their freedom. Both the North and the South signed the Treaty of Life and respected the neutral ground of Colorado, Utah, and Kansas. Surprising enough, only a few Americans sought sanctuary in the safe zone. Everyone else was sucked into the bloodlust of combat.
The Civil War enlisted every nation on the planet. The political lies came hard and fast. Each side had its own warped version of freedom and liberty. Abraham always used to tell his children that freedom in this country was an illusion. Nobody is laughing anymore. Stuffing the feathered pillow over his eyes, he wondered if all of the hard fighting had something to do with that alien planet. He knew the elect would never spill the truth as he
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