some kind of warning. After all, the old man at the gas station had mentioned seeing heavy northbound traffic yesterday. We had the local paper delivered daily, so the Saturday edition should still be in the mail box at the end of the driveway. I put on a heavy jacket and raced outside, pressing a dish towel against my nose and mouth. Sure enough, the paper was stuffed tightly into our box. I pulled it out and ran back to the house.
After throwing the ash-flecked jacket off, I went to the kitchen, where I slammed the paper down on the table and sifted through the bloated inserts from the new super store. Then my worst fears were realized. I had that moment of terrible clarity, when my future and the future of those remaining were set out before me.
The headline read “The Reaper Cometh”. I now knew that this was IT, and that my friends would return with dire news of their own. I read on. The Reaper had confirmed that he had more nuclear missiles in his personal arsenal than first feared. The story also went on to explain what one should do if the Reaper followed through on his threats: where to go, how to stay safe and how to fight against the radiation poisoning that would be sure to follow.
I knew it had happened, but I still had hope. After all, we were all still alive. The worst-case scenario flashed through my head, and I did what little I could to control it. Wait and see.
Waiting for the door to open was agonizing, so I kept myself busy with mindless chores. Finally my attention returned to the paper. A new statement had been posted on The Four Horsemen website, this one directly from the head Horse’s mouth. “Blame your Governments, blame your greed, blame your ignorance and your ambition. Blame yourselves for your end.” It was absolutely chilling.
A bout of nausea struck me, sending me to the bathroom. I just knelt there, hugging the toilet and staring into the bowl. Like Nostradamus looking into his bowl of water to see the future, I sat looking at mine. Finally I stood and slowly made my way back to my room.
The clock on the wall read four in the afternoon. Funny, it felt like midnight in the 7th circle of hell. How long would it remain midnight here? I passed my parents’ room on route. I still called it their room, as though Dad were still alive.
Stepping into my own room, once a sanctuary, I went to the window again and pressed my hands against the glass. It was warm. I pulled away and rubbed my palms together, never breaking my gaze. A feeling of hate overcame me. The Reaper was responsible for this, that piece of shit had thrown the world into the gutter! Who the hell did he think he was? I could feel my face tighten. “Fuck!” My fist hit the wall beside the window. “Fucker!” I sank to my knees, continuing to punch the wall on my way down. When I reached the floor it became my target until the mood left me, on my knees, slouched over, crying for all things lost.
After several minutes, I pulled myself together and got up, but in doing so, stumbled and knocked over Rex. When I picked him up, his tail fell off. I tried to reposition him, but he would no longer stand without the tail in place. Sighing, I sat Rex next to me on the bed.
Then I surveyed the rest of the house for damage. My rounds began with the bathroom, where I made sure that the toilet flushed and we had running water. Next stop was the addition, where I observed that Kevin’s paintings remained intact. My gaze fell on his latest piece, the one from my recurring dream. It sat unfinished on his easel.
Back in the living room, I tried again to access a radio broadcast. No luck- maybe the reception was still messed up. Or maybe I was just full of wishful thinking. But there had to be other survivors in the area, right? We saw the planes in the sky- that was a definite sign that others made it too. I turned away from the radio and mused, “Actually, they may have seen us driving here as they put the fires out, and they’ll
After throwing the ash-flecked jacket off, I went to the kitchen, where I slammed the paper down on the table and sifted through the bloated inserts from the new super store. Then my worst fears were realized. I had that moment of terrible clarity, when my future and the future of those remaining were set out before me.
The headline read “The Reaper Cometh”. I now knew that this was IT, and that my friends would return with dire news of their own. I read on. The Reaper had confirmed that he had more nuclear missiles in his personal arsenal than first feared. The story also went on to explain what one should do if the Reaper followed through on his threats: where to go, how to stay safe and how to fight against the radiation poisoning that would be sure to follow.
I knew it had happened, but I still had hope. After all, we were all still alive. The worst-case scenario flashed through my head, and I did what little I could to control it. Wait and see.
Waiting for the door to open was agonizing, so I kept myself busy with mindless chores. Finally my attention returned to the paper. A new statement had been posted on The Four Horsemen website, this one directly from the head Horse’s mouth. “Blame your Governments, blame your greed, blame your ignorance and your ambition. Blame yourselves for your end.” It was absolutely chilling.
A bout of nausea struck me, sending me to the bathroom. I just knelt there, hugging the toilet and staring into the bowl. Like Nostradamus looking into his bowl of water to see the future, I sat looking at mine. Finally I stood and slowly made my way back to my room.
The clock on the wall read four in the afternoon. Funny, it felt like midnight in the 7th circle of hell. How long would it remain midnight here? I passed my parents’ room on route. I still called it their room, as though Dad were still alive.
Stepping into my own room, once a sanctuary, I went to the window again and pressed my hands against the glass. It was warm. I pulled away and rubbed my palms together, never breaking my gaze. A feeling of hate overcame me. The Reaper was responsible for this, that piece of shit had thrown the world into the gutter! Who the hell did he think he was? I could feel my face tighten. “Fuck!” My fist hit the wall beside the window. “Fucker!” I sank to my knees, continuing to punch the wall on my way down. When I reached the floor it became my target until the mood left me, on my knees, slouched over, crying for all things lost.
After several minutes, I pulled myself together and got up, but in doing so, stumbled and knocked over Rex. When I picked him up, his tail fell off. I tried to reposition him, but he would no longer stand without the tail in place. Sighing, I sat Rex next to me on the bed.
Then I surveyed the rest of the house for damage. My rounds began with the bathroom, where I made sure that the toilet flushed and we had running water. Next stop was the addition, where I observed that Kevin’s paintings remained intact. My gaze fell on his latest piece, the one from my recurring dream. It sat unfinished on his easel.
Back in the living room, I tried again to access a radio broadcast. No luck- maybe the reception was still messed up. Or maybe I was just full of wishful thinking. But there had to be other survivors in the area, right? We saw the planes in the sky- that was a definite sign that others made it too. I turned away from the radio and mused, “Actually, they may have seen us driving here as they put the fires out, and they’ll
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