“No.” Jason said sadly. “No.”
Quietly and softly Nora walked to him. She folded her arms to her body. Her voice was whispering, “Jason.”
He pounded his fist hard to the ground, shoulders bounced and then he looked over his shoulder at her with a devastating expression on his face. “They’re gone.” Jason indicated to the crosses. Each had a name deeply engraved on it. Three female names. Candy, Melissa and Daisy. “Whoever that man was, he is not in one of these graves,” Jason said with sadness. “He was the one that probably buried my family.”
They were useless. That was what Meredith told John and Grant as the reason that she left the documentation behind. Pages upon pages of names and numbers. None of them were from the area so the chances of their family being on that list were slim to none. Other than the color-coded flags and a few dates, the information was a waste of time.
John was glad to hear some information. That perhaps some people had survived. But it couldn’t be proven by him. The one thing he was certain of was, there was no way, no how, that they were making it to Washington DC by the end of the day.
Just as the sun began to set, and the vehicle cranked out the last of its power, John pulled over to the side of the road a mere twenty miles from Washington DC.
“This is bullshit,” Grant blasted. “I don’t understand why we’re going to Washington DC anyhow.”
John explained, “Because if we’re going to find any answers, if by chance your family is not around, then DC offers us an opportunity to learn something.”
“It was the nation’s capital.” Meredith said. “I know that sounds cheesy, but if anything happened as far as war, it happened there. If anything happened in the plan for trying to save the world, it happened there.”
John added, “Plus their records, and the Smithsonian Institute is there.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Grant asked.
“I don’t know about you, but I would like a little bit of history from when I was on this earth. When I lived my full life. If we are in the future, then we should secure some of the past. “John said.
“I agree,” said Meredith.
“There’s something wrong with both of you,” Grant complained, “I just want to get home. And it’s not a good idea to set up camp here.”
John tossed out his hands. “What do you expect us to do? Where do you expect this to go? The buggy is done for today.”
“Then, as long as it’s still light out, we should walk to a safer location spend the night.” Suggested Grant. “Maybe even hide the buggy if we can.”
“Are you nuts?” John left already Joe. “Hide the buggy? Walk to a safer location?”
Grant nodded. “Yeah, look around, something is not right.”
Again, John laughed. Almost scoffing.
“John,” Meredith called his name softly. “He’s right.”
“You too?”
“Seriously, John,” Meredith said. “Take a look around.”
Up went John’s hands and they fell against his thighs with a slap. “I’m looking.”
“What do you see?” Meredith asked.
“Nothing,” answered John. “What am I missing?”
Grant spoke up, “what don’t you see? It’s something we saw everywhere.”
Meredith answered. “John, life. There’s no life.”
John chuckled. “No shit. The virus wiped out the world. We’re pretty much extinct.”
“No.” Meredith said softly. “Human beings aren’t the only life. Again, look around, where is the life?”
John was at his wits end. He thought they had gone mad. Was he missing something? Apparently he was and when he looked around ready to ridicule them once more. He saw they were right. There was no life. Life, meaning trees, grass, even weeds. It was something so visually commonplace that John grew used to it. But right there outside of Washington DC, there was nothing. For the first time in the journey. Anything green with life that surrounded them up to that point, was no longer there. The grass the trees, everything… Was dead
It was by far the weirdest dream that Malcolm could ever recall having. It was a conglomeration of old and new. In it he had taken his sons, Sam, Daniel, and Trey skiing for the weekend. None of them were very good and most of their weekend was spent playing in the snow and hanging out by the fire. The dream started out as more of a memory. It was of the latest trip they had taken the mountains to ski. Jennifer his wife was having “female” problems. And Malcolm, being very courteous and the sensitive husband that he was, decided it was best for him to leave the house. He took the boys and gave her the weekend off. They had a blast that weekend. Trey barely fought with him at all. The only time that Trey did fight with him was to give more money to play video games in the lobby, because Malcolm refused to bring the video game console. That was the dream. Eating barbecue wings and ribs by the fire, still damp from playing in the snow.
Then the dream turned from reality and memory to nightmare. The window in the cabin crashed open, bringing in blowing snow at the same time the rerun of Full House turned into the emergency broadcasting system.
This is an emergency, the announcer stated, the dead are rising.
How ridiculous, Malcolm thought in the dream. The dead don’t rise.
He remembered in the dream, looking over to his youngest son, Sam. He was really little. He sat on the floor legs crossed Indian style, with the saddest eyes looking up the Malcolm,
“Don’t let the monsters get me, Daddy.” Sam cried. “Please, Daddy.”
“No, Sam,” Malcolm told his son. “There are no such thing as monsters.”
“Dad,” Trey said sternly. “There are monsters. They’re out there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Malcolm argued. “You’re scaring your brother.”
“Why don’t you ever believe me?”
“Why must everything be a fight with you?” Malcolm yelled.
Then, Daniel screamed. With that, the walls collapsed in a barrage of walking, rotting, dead cascaded into the room, arms extended hungrily.
Trey yelled out, “See? I was right.”
They were being invaded by carnivorous creatures and all Trey could do was make his point. Focused on Trey, he noticed that Daniel stopped screaming. Malcolm turned only to see the corpses tear his son apart. The young child was lifeless, his limbs and insides dangled from his body.
Sam kept crying out, “Daddy! Daddy!” But Malcolm couldn’t see him or find him.
“Where are you?” Malcolm asked. “Sam, answer me.”
Malcolm tried to move in dream, but it was difficult, the zombies grabbed for him, reaching for his arms and head.
“Dad! This way!” Trey called out.
“Your brother. Your brother. I have to help your brother.” Malcolm said, his heart raced and it felt so real.
“Dad.” Trey’s voice faded, it was further away.
What to do? Where to go? Malcolm desperately searched for Sam, but couldn’t find him. He cried in that dream, his heart aching and screaming out for Daniel who was torn apart.
After feeling a rush of cool breeze, Malcolm saw the door to the cabin was open. Trey must have run out there, he thought. And then Malcolm, too, with no choice raced out that door.
He could see his son in the distance. The snow came up to Trey’s midsection. Yet the teenager kept trying to run. He kept waving his arm to Malcolm to hurry up. The snow was hindering Malcolm. He tried lifting his legs high, trying to move in that snow. He got cold, very cold. The snow pelted him in the face and his body froze, and shivered. He couldn’t believe how cold it was, and as he tried to take another step, he felt the pain in his arm and he looked to see one of the walking dead gnawing on his flesh.