“Salvation?” asked John.
“The place where all good immune go to live out their lives normally away from the rest of the shithole world. It’s huge. Never could get in there. They said I wasn’t immune. Ha. What do they know?” Rusty said. “So we bide our time out here. We do well. Got horses, a nice farm.”
“When did they build it?”
“Christ.” Rusty looked up to the ceiling. “They started building the wall on year three of the virus. Took a while to complete. That was after the war, though. Was a short war.” Rusty winked. “Took out everything north of here. All along the east coast. Gone. Dust. Probably not dust anymore, but things don’t grow.”
John was trying hard to process what he was being told, decipher it and get information. There was no way Rusty would understand that he and Meredith had been in stasis.
Then Meredith asked. “Rusty, how old were you when the virus first broke out?”
“I wasn’t young,” Rusty answered. “Hard to recall.”
“Think,” John said. “How long ago was it that the virus began?”
“Thirty years. Or it will be thirty years in September.” Trey said as he placed a steaming cup of tea before Malcolm. “Dad, you really don’t look well.”
“I … know. I’m sick. My arm is bad. But I have to know.” Malcolm said. “I have to.”
Trey joined him at the table. “This is unreal. I knew it. I knew it. I told Mom you weren’t dead.”
“They probably dismissed it as you not accepting it.”
“They did. But my gut kept saying you weren’t dead. I wanted to go to New York to the explosion site, but they closed it off. There was an exodus from New York shortly before the virus. It was weird, too, we were one of the first people to get the vaccine.”
“Trey, I am so sorry. I am so sorry that we fought before that.”
“Me, too.” Trey reached out and laid his hand on Malcolm’s.
Malcolm looked at his son’s hand. They were worn and old. “What about your mother? Your brothers?”
“They didn’t make it. They passed away. I stayed here. Made this a farm.”
“I missed your life.”
“You missed a mess. Be grateful for that.” Trey said. “The terror attack. The president was killed…” He paused. “Or so we thought. The new president vowed revenge on the attack and just sent out troops. Then the virus broke out in Singapore. From what I recall, it was a big deal because right after, it was discovered that it was deliberate. The president came on TV and told how he uncovered the plot by some organization called the Genesis group. They tried to stop it, Dad, they did.”
“How?”
“Shut down all infected cities. Shut them down. Locked people in. No questions asked. They found the flight information on where the virus was released. All around the world they quarantined cities. But it didn’t help.”
“How long ago was this?”
“I was in high school. I never finished because they shut it down. Then, countries started blaming the U.S. for the virus and the war escalated, we were hit with nukes. The East Coast is gone. Several bases. We surrendered.”
“We what?”
“We surrendered. But then before any details of that surrender were hashed out, the virus just… Raged. It looked bleak and then in spring, it stopped. By then, the world was in disarray, trying to pick up pieces.”
“Trey, it’s been thirty years. Where is everyone if the virus stopped after a few months?”
Trey whistled. “That was round one. It came back, mutated, took out a good chunk of the population and stopped again. By the third outbreak, they started building the wall. Violence was everywhere. If the virus wasn’t killing people, people were doing the job. It was a means to protect those who wouldn’t get sick. The virus hit like the Bubonic Plague, like the flu, it came seasonally, it conquered, and it went dormant. I think it finally stopped about ten years ago, maybe less.”
“The wall?”
“To Salvation. It took four years to build it. Thirteen hundred miles from Duluth to Montana. They built it where it’s cold and the virus barely touched. It’s where I’m taking you to get that arm looked at.”
“Salvation? They named it Salvation?”
“Yeah, it’s life. It’s the world you remember protected behind a wall. A big one too.”
“How do you know it’s still there?”
Trey laughed. “Uh, Dad, you think I eat this food. Mr. Diaz and I manufacture the corn fuel for them. Go up there once a week. And really, we need to go before sun down. It’s a good three hour drive.” He stood.
“I can’t. I have to get to a town called Champaign, Illinois. The others, the ones with me, we’re meeting there.”
“Dad… listen to me. It may have only been weeks since you saw me, but it’s been decades since I saw you. I am not losing you now. Please.” He held out his hand. “Your friends will find Salvation. They will.”
Malcolm didn’t have the spark in him to argue. He was sick and without help, more than likely he would die.
Trey was right, he lost his father once.
Malcolm let his son down before, and even though he committed to meeting the others from the Genesis project, he owed it to his son.
He took another sip of his tea, and grateful that he still had his son, he took Trey’s hand and followed his lead.
NORA’S ENTRY
Day 11 AR
I think we finally all reached the general consensus that it was the month of June. John determined it by his allergies as they started to act up like they did every year.
Meredith said he was insane, that a world without industry didn’t pollute the air.
It felt like June. So we all agreed.
Jason and I didn’t stay in Cleveland. We went back to his house for a few more days before heading to the meeting spot in Illinois.
On the way there, we crossed through farmland and met a woman named, Grace. She and her husband were denied entry to Salvation. Their application rejected. She told us that many made a pilgrimage there, but rumor had it, they died while camping outside the wall.
She didn’t go because she was uncertain of its location. Her husband said it was out west and hard to miss. But, like her, he wasn’t sure where.
Someone once told her in was in Iowa.
Grace gave us fresh supplies. We were grateful and noted her location to one day return.
There were actual survivors living in Champaign. Not many, maybe fifteen. They welcomed us and had it not been for the buggy, they would not have believed our story. Four days after we arrived, John and Meredith showed up. They looked the worse for wear.
“We’ve been to hell in back,” John said.
I believed it. His face had healing bruises, as did Meredith’s. Grant had been murdered, but actually in a sense, saved their lives, because when the ‘Wreckers’ looted their belongings, they never found the battery to the buggy.
After resting, they headed our way.
They never made it north. Upon hearing nothing was left, they figured, why bother.
Against the advice of the Champaign survivors, we packed up to search out Salvation. We were given an invitation to return.
Even though it hadn’t been a long time, enough time had passed that we all had clear minds and determination.
My family survived the virus.
They were possibly at the place called Salvation.
I need to go there and Jason vowed to stay by my side in my search. For that, I was grateful.
John and Meredith wanted to go, if civilization was booming behind a wall, they wanted to be there.
It was a real place, out there, somewhere in the west. We didn’t know where, but that didn’t stop us from looking.
Our search has begun.