FSE

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Time stopped, I waited, only a few seconds. Tears began to roll down my face. My mind was numb. There was nothing inside me, nothing at all as I stood up and pulled the quit, with it's brown and white raccoon and deep green forest design flanked by a blue sky over my Mom's head. Death was by no definition of the word, "new", to me. My years in Iran as a Delta operator had hardened me to the point that I wasn't entirely sure that I had a soul any more.

I've hidden in ditches from machine gun fire, been hunted by snipers, watched friends die in front of me and I've even had live grenades land at my feet. You could say I know death and the Grim Reaper personally. The lump in the bed didn't even seem like a person anymore, much less the woman who had raised me for nineteen years and vised me in the hospital after my Hummer was struck by an IED. I placed my hand on Mom's shoulder as the tears of agony rolled down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Mom", I said between the tears and sobs, "I'm so sorry."

My mother's death had followed my father's by only a few days. Dad had gotten sick from a man who had spit at him while we were helping out downtown at a CDC relief center. Mom had gotten sick while burying him. There deaths were the ending of my life, so to speak, but they were the beginning of something so much more.

November 24th,was the start of the pandemic. Sixteen Taliban terrorists infected themselves with Agent Six. A biological, parasitic weapon of mass destruction. Agent Six was designed with spread rate, lethality and lightning quick kill speeds in mind, I would say that the designers had done their job much to well. The death toll climbed to ten million, overnight and that was just New York City. The parasite spreads like mold, it's what it does. In less than a month, the world population had gone from six billion to less than a thousand.

Then, the thump, thump, thump of a tennis ball bouncing down the hallway brought me back to reality. It was my younger brother Rafael. His footsteps sounded like a heard of Elephant's traipsing up the staircase, or maybe it was just because I was losing my mind? I don't fucking know anymore.

He was only nine and had already been through more in those years than most people will in their lifetime. He stood at around 4'7 with short brown hair and green eyes. I heard him walk up to the door and stop.

"Cameron?", He asked quietly, "did Mom?"

Please don't make me answer that.

I sighed, "Yeah, she's gone."

I could hear Rafael lean against the wall, beginning to cry, "Was it to much to ask for one more Christmas together?"

I sighed again, I had hoped, so very much, that Mom wold live at least through Christmas, I'd prayed for it every night, but I guess it wasn't met to be. This parasite had cost me my friends, my parents, but try as it might, it was not going to take Raf from me. I stood and walked out into the hallway where Raf was crying bitterly. I knelt down beside him and looked into his tear filled eyes.

"Raf", I said in almost a whisper, "I'm sorry." Raf's eyes went unblinking as mine began to fill with tears, "I'm sorry."

Raf leaned into me,burring his face into my shoulder and sobbing. I hugged him tightly, it was all I could do, we were all we had left. After his crying had died down a bit, I looked into his eyes.

"Listen Raf", I said, "I need you to go get the bags we used to hike with and bring them to the living room."

"Okay", he replied.

I sent him downstairs and then walked into the bathroom that was adjacent to Mom and Dad's room. The window had been left open, letting in the late December air. The sky was clear and the sun shone in through the open window. The curtains swayed with the light breeze that was blowing in the stench of rotting meat and trash, but I almost didn't notice. In Iraq, everything stunk like shit. I'd wake up each and every morning to the same smell, diesel fuel, sand, heat and dead bodies. I could remember when I was little and lived in Texas when my Dad and I spent all of our time together and the air was scented with the smell of oak and China berry trees, freshly cut grass and the wind carried a smell of life, rather than death.

Our generator had run out of diesel fuel a few days ago, and seeing as how all I had left was what was in my pickup, a 2012 Chevy Avalanche, I decided to leave the generator empty and get water from the nearby spring. It was less than ideal, believe me, but it worked, so we tried not to complain. I stripped off my grimy clothes and tossed them into the basket that was piled full of foul smelling clothes. We needed to do the laundry. I then scrubbed every inch of my body with the lufa and soap until the entire sweaty, grimy feeling was gone, leaving my skin dark red. I also brushed my teeth, which had become like fuzzy slippers, until they were white and clean again. I tried not to cringe at the amount of muscle I'd lost over the course of the month, I guess it was just stress.

I walked quickly into my room and slipped on my least clean pair of underwear, boxer shorts, cargo pants and white T-shirt. I then walked down stairs to find an empty living room with Raf hanging vacantly around the Xbox, the Call Of Duty Ghosts freaks that we'd both once been. I guessed he'd been scavenging for those last few things he just couldn't bear to live without.

"Get the packs?", I asked.

"Yeah", Raf said.

I could tell, simply from the tone of his voice that he was tired, which made sense. Neither of us had gotten much sleep since Mom had been infected and I didn't think the future would be any better. I just sighed, not knowing what to say to my brother to make him feel any better. Dad was way better at this.

"Why don't you load that stuff in my truck?", I asked.

"We going somewhere?", Raf asked.

I paused, not entirely sure how to answer his question. Raf gave me a vacant look and then sighed before rising from the Xbox couch and grabbing one of the duffel bags before disappearing through the door. I walked back upstairs to my room and slid out a green duffel from underneath my bed. As I unzipped it, tan Nylon began to peek out. A smell of plastic mixed with sand and oiled metal crept from the bag.

It was my old military gear, fatigues, plate carrier, helmet, you name it, it was all there. I drew my helmet out of the bag and looked at it, turning it over in my hands. The memories, good, bad, they all came back. Up inside the webbing was a picture of me and my Dad along with our squad mates Cody, Devon and Clayton. I shook myself back to reality and set my helmet aside before changing into my combat pants and shirt. I slid my plate carrier over my combat shirt, grabbed my helmet and the empty duffel before walking out to my truck. Raf had the tailgate down and was loading up the last of the duffles.

I set my helmet in my seat and then went back in the house for a few last things. In my Dad's room, was the gun cabinet Dad always kept the key in an old Swiss army knife holster tapped to the bottom of his nightstand, thankfully it was still there. I grabbed the key and unlocked the gun cabinet, which was hidden behind Mom's wedding dress in the back of the closet, revealing my own M1A, AR-15 and Browning Hi-Power as well as my Dad's MK-11 Mod 0, Rugger Mini-14, Remington 700, Remington 870 shotgun, Colt 1911 and Raf's little Marlin 39. I pulled all of the guns from the box and stuffed them into the duffel bag, keeping my Browning separate, which went into the holster on my leg. I carried the guns out to my truck before making one last trip inside, retrieving the eight boxes of ammunition that we had stored in a hidden cabby On my last trip out, I grabbed two last things.

My and my Dad's Delta jackets.

Dad's jacket was all that I had left of him, if I didn't take it with me, I'd regret it for the rest of my life, it was the only thing that I was still certain about. I carefully folded them up and placed them in a compartment under the back seat, along with the Colt. I set my AR-15 in the area between the driver and passenger seats before climbing into my truck.

It was a bright blue Chevy Avalanche that had the engine swapped from the standard gasoline to a Cummings straight 4 B series. I had done it with my Dad a couple of years ago and had gotten a nasty case of sunburn on my back from working with my shirt off, against my father's advice. He was always fond of teasing me about it afterwords. Needless to say I never worked without a shirt again. We had also swapped out the transmission from a standard automatic to a manual six speed. I had also installed a light bar, deer guard and custom steering wheel when Dad and I had made the swap. Not only that, but I had also installed softer seats, custom painted pedals and shifter as well upgraded shocks, fuel system, air filter and tires. It gave the truck a feeling that suited it well. Raf climbed in next to me, dressed in a bright red sleeveless shirt and brown shorts with his old Nike sneakers.

"Got everything?", I asked, "chances are that we'll never be back here again."

"Actually", Raf said, "there is one thing..."

Raf hopped out of the truck and disappeared inside. A few minutes later, he came back with a day pack that was bulging a little.

"Okay", Raf said climbing back in, "now I'm ready."

"What you got in there?", I asked.

Raf reached inside and drew out a purple and orange stuffed turtle.

"Oh my god", I said taking it from him, "...where did you find this?"

Dad had given me the little stuffed turtle for my 4th birthday. It was over twenty years old but still looked brand new, I carried with me up until I was about sixteen, when I lost it. Believe it or not, I cried over it.

"I found it in a box of things in the attic", Raf said, "my guess is that Mom found it and put it there."

I smiled, glad that I had back an old friend. I placed it on the dash and depressed my clutch before pulling back on my trucks custom shifter and giving a flick of my wrist to bring my Chevy to life. The turbocharged engine rattled around inside of a engine case that was just it's size. I put my truck into gear and drove down our driveway, taking one last look at our house before turning onto the road.

The town was devoid of human activity. The only noises to speak of were the creaking of attic fans being blown by the wind with a few chirping birds and the noise of my truck. Houses which lined the street stood empty, as if they were waiting for their owners to return. Trashcans stood vacantly at the end of many of the driveways, some tightly sealed, others had been knocked over by racoons or dogs desperate for their next meal. Bicycles from the kids that used to ride up and down the street lay on the sidewalk. While cars lined the streets and sat in their driveways as if everyone had taken the day off. Things are never what they seem.

The traffic lights swayed in the wind, they seemed in tune with a few wind chimes that were hanging from the porches of a few houses, it gave the impression that I was in some kind of low budget horror movie.

This ain't a movie Cameron, this shit is as real as the Earth itself.

After a few minutes of driving, I pulled to a stop at an intersection. The two lights hanging from the wires were flashing on, off, on, off, in a rhythm, each flash was two seconds or so apart. I glanced over at Raf, he was staring out over the landscape, quiet as a mouse. I worried about him. He was seeing things at 9 that gave Dad nightmares at 44. I was observing the area as well, taking in all of the rotting trash, broken windows and piles of corpses that lined the streets.

The stench was so horrific Imagine the taste of maple syrup as a smell and you'll get the basic idea. Even through the closed windows and smell of diesel exhaust fumes, we could still smell it. I had pulled my Shemagh over my face while Raf was holding a shirt over his mouth and nose.

"What is that horrible smell?", Raf asked with a muffled voice.

"Trust me little bro", I answered back, "you really don't wanna know."

So many different things occupied my mind, I shouldn't have been driving in all honesty, but I was the only one who could, so I didn't have much of a choice After taking a minute to clear my head at the intersection, I pressed on the gas and moved on. It was not another minute before we came to the old Walmart that our town had grown up around.

The Walmart had boxes and shards of glass near it's entrance and the doors were an obliterated tangle of metal and Plexiglass. In the parking lot were a couple hundred white hazard tents. They were accompanied by Ambulances, Police cars, and a CDC mobile command center. The windows on the ambulances had been smashed by looters during the first days of the outbreak. The cops, National Guard, and even volunteer retired military, namely my father and myself, had helped keep order so the CDC people could do their work. In the end, my father's desire to help had exposed him. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, remembering the day the CDC person had told me Dad was infected. I had felt like the Earth had crashed down on my shoulders, like I had no other reason to continue.

But then?

I remembered Raf, I had to go on, for him.

"Hey Cameron?", Raf asked.

"Yeah?", I asked depressing the clutch and making a transition into fourth gear.

"What's with the tents?", Raf asked.

I sighed. "There hazard tents",I answered, "it's where the CDC doctors tried to help the people who were infected."

"Is that how Dad...?", Raf choked on his words.

"Yeah", I answered shifting into fifth gear, "it was."

"Oh", Raf answered.

I wasn't sure what to say. Quiet expect for the whistling of my truck's turbo charger and sounds of the engine fell over the cab. As we drove along, I passed a sign. It was old and faded, seeming to be advertising a circus from 2006, years ago.

The time past without me really noticing. Early morning turned into late morning and late morning turned to afternoon. The sun was now high in the sky and the wind was blowing into my Chevy through the open windows. We'd been on the interstate for a few hours now, not seeing anything besides cars jammed on the opposite road and the greenery that surrounded both highways. It was around one o'clock when I glanced down at my gauges and noticed that my gas gauge was hovering over empty. Thirty five miles a gallon doesn't get me very fucking far.

I sighed, "Gonna have to stop for diesel soon, Raf check the map and see where the next town is."

Raf pulled the map out of the glove box and began looking it over.

"Looks like it's the next exit about two miles up the road."

I continued to drive down the road, keeping my eyes open for the next exit sign. About a minute later, a blue sign came into view that read, "Shell Clean Diesel, Next Exit".

"Salvation", I said switching lanes and turning onto the exit.

There was a down ramp that led into the small little town. The Shell station was right off the ramp. The windows of the convenience store had bee boarded up and spray painted with big red letters that read "NO FOOD". There were white bags on the gasoline pump nozzles with notes attached that read, "NO GAS". Thankfully, the diesel pumps had no such coverings or notes, but I was still unsure weather or not they were operational. My truck was running on fumes, so I had to take the chance, if worst came to worst and the pumps were out, I could probably shipion from other trucks. I pulled underneath the covered area of the station and put my truck in park before killing the engine and throwing my sunglasses up onto the dash.

"Get out and stretch Raf", I said.

"Don't need to tell me twice", Raf said undoing his seat belt and hoping out of the truck.

I undid my own seat belt and pushed open my door before sliding out of my truck. My entire body felt numb, it had been a while since I'd driven for so long. We'd been on the road since seven am, so the break was nice. I walked around to the gas pump and checked it to see if it was still operational. I breathed a sigh of relief, it was. I pulled the nozzle from the pump and stuck it down into the fuel tube, beginning to pump the gas

into my truck. My truck took 25 gallons and could get 35 MPG since I had installed the Cummins engine, so I figured I could go about 875 miles before I needed to refuel again. I filled the tank to the brim and replaced the nozzle before capping the tank.

"Hey Raf?", I called out.

"Yeah?", he called from across the parking lot.

"Tank's full, let's get going."

I walked back to the driver's side and climbed in, pressing the clutch and pulling back on the shifter before giving a flick of my wrist to once again bring my Chevy to life.

"Better engage RWD for now", I said to myself, "better mileage."

I pressed down on the clutch again and pulled back on my trucks secondary shifter, locking it into the position to engage rear wheel drive. I then pulled from the gas station and drove down the street before turning back onto the interstate. The gauge that read RPM climbed to 4,000 before I depressed the clutch and made a smooth transition into second gear. Soon we had left the town behind and nothing but road was in front of us for as far as I could see. Things got boring real quick, so I reached down into my center console and fished up my favorite album, Magnum 1's End Of Days. Fitting don't you think? The first song that came up was Frigid Seas, quite possibly the Black Metal band's finest work, it went a little something like this.

"It leaves me with a whisper in it's wake. With these haunted memories I take to the icy wastelands. Nothing but snow for as far as the eyes can see. Ice frozen on the wings of planes. The dark night hides these frigid seas. And I can search till I freeze."

I had always loved the song, just the way the drums beat, the way the guitars sounded. I could never listen to enough Magnum 1. The day seemed to drag by. Occasionally I would glance down at the clock on my dash, thinking it had been hours since our fuel stop, only to find it had been ten or so minutes. The birds and insects chattered like stock traders over the whistling, suction like noise of my truck. Or maybe since the silence settled in on the Earth, they just seemed louder, more insistent.

It was another two hours or so of driving before I saw a sign hat read "New York State Welcome Center two miles." It was about two more minutes before I spotted another sign that read "New York State Welcome Center, next right." I changed lanes and soon the turn for the welcome center appeared. I turned into the rest stop and killed the truck.

"Okay",I said, "let's stop and rest a bit, I'm starting to get hungry."

"You read my mind", Raf said sliding out of the truck.

I pushed open my door and slid out, stretching my legs and back as I did. I remembered an 18 hour Humvee ride I'd once taken in Iraq with my Dad and my team. We were supposed to provide fire support if the convoy needed it, but it had ended up as just a little more than the worst car ride of my life.

"Ugh", I moaned in a smile, "car rides suck."

"For the one that's driving", Raf said, "I been playing Borderlands 2 on your old PS Vita all day."

"You wanna drive?", I asked, "one more crack like that and I may leave you behind."

"We both know you don't have the heart", Raf replied with an evil smirk.

I sighed, admitting my defeat. I reached into the black duffel bag containing the guns and pulled out Raf's Marlin.

"Why don't you go raid the vending machines and see what you can turn up? I'mma hit the welcome desk and see if I can find a map."

"Sounds like a plan", Raf said taking his rifle.

He walked off and I stretched a little more before grabbing my AR-15 from between the seats and heading off to the welcome building. It was a round, octagonal building made with brown bricks. A wooden walk way led up to a bar metal door that was wide open, I raised my rifle, preparing for the possibility that there may be bandits around. I walked up the wooden bridge and into the large building. It was more like a museum inside than a welcome center, to be brutally honest. There were two floors with an ivy covered pillar rising through both of them. In the far corner were four sofa's arranged in a square shape with a coffee table between them. The entire place was well lit and without the decaying stench of the outside world, smelling more like a library than anything else. To my right was the welcome desk. I readied my rifle and went over to it, hopping over and into the area behind it, which looked to me to be office space. There were two rooms adjacent to me, one of which had an open door. I carefully brushed it aside and entered an old office with a wooden desk in the middle and a closed laptop on it. On the back of the wall was a map of New York state.

"Lady luck be kind", I said taking the map off the wall and folding it up.

I also grabbed up the laptop, a blue Acer Aspire One with a window's seven sticker on it as well as it's case and cord, which was laying on desk with it. I exited the building and walked back to the truck. Raf didn't seem to be around, and I hadn't heard any gun shots, so I assumed he was still trying to break into the vending machines. I set my rifle back in between the seats and placed the map in the center console before walking around to the back of my truck and digging into one of the bigger ruffles. I drew out our old propane stove and cookware set, setting some water to make Smoked Alfredo MRE's to boil before calling for Raf. A few minutes later, he came around the corner, his arms full, rifle over his shoulder and with a slight limp. I ran up to him.

"You okay?", I asked.

His ankle was red and swollen a good bit, it was a bad twist, possibly a sprang or a fracture. Great, a broken bone is the very last thing I need right now.

"Yeah", Raf said, "I slipped on an oil slick and twisted my ankle."

"Looks like you did more than twist it little brother", I replied him, "you may have cracked a bone."

"It hurts", Raf said, "a lot."

"I bet", I said, "come on I'll help you back to the truck."

With a little help from me, Raf limped back to the truck and hopped up on the tail gate. He kicked off his sneakers, allowing me to look at his ankle. Thankfully, it was nothing more than a bad twist. I put a bit of medicine on it and wrapped it up tightly. Raf had turned up quite a bit from the vending machines, several bags of Cheddar cheese popcorn (my favorite), three chocolate bars and single bags of chocolate chip cookies and doughnuts. We ate lunch in the bed of the truck after which we enjoyed the presents the vending machines had left us before packing up and getting back on the road. I drove for a few more hours before the sun began to go down, and the temperature with it. It had been a cold winter so far this year. Personally, I loved the cold, Raf on the other hand, got cold easily and even I had my braking point. It was around six thirty when the windows went up and the heater came on.

It was around eight o'clock when Raf asked with a yawn, "Cameron, can we please stop soon?"

I yawned my reply, "yeah, what's the nearest town?"

"Rochester New York", he said.

"Damn",I replied yawning, "sixteen freaking hours and we've only gone that far?"

"Is what it is", Raf replied.

It was about twenty minutes later before I turned into Rochester. I drove for another ten before I spotted a Holiday in Hotel.

"We'll stop here", I said turning into the parking lot, backing into a spot right up front.

"You parked in a handicap spot", Raf said, "trying to get arrested?"

"Maybe I am", I said throwing my sunglasses onto the dash.

"Course", Raf said, "don't think there are any cops around."

I laughed as I swung open my door and a blast of cold air rushed in.

"Damn that's cold", I said hopping out of my truck.

Raf grabbed his coat from the back seat and hopped out. The moon and stars were high in the sky, I could clearly see the Big Dipper and Ursa Major, rare for this part of the country and this time of year. Raf and I grabbed the bags containing the food as well as our guns and a couple magazines of ammunition before walking into the hotel. It was fairly decent inside, with a green carpet, nice looking waiting area and a welcome desk. It was also void of the decaying smell of the outside world.Here's a first, fresh air.

"No smell", Raf said.

"Nice change of pace huh?", I asked setting down the bag of food and walking to the desk.

Behind it was relatively empty, as far as I could see. I hopped over it and began going through the drawers, finding a key to room 338.

"Well we got a room key", I said, "now we just have to find it."

I jumped from behind the counter and picked up the duffel bag before walking up the stairs, beginning a shift through the rooms.

"333, 334, 335, 336, 7, AHA!", I said, "room 338."

I unlocked the room and Raf and I entered.

The room was about the size of a large living room. In the corner closest to my left hand was a couch and a small coffee table. In the middle of the room were two twin sized beds, just perfect for me and Raf. On the other side of the bed was a office chair and desk that held a big PC computer. Separating the two beds was a lamp stand with a blue lamp and there were also two Japanese type paper screens that separated the beds from the other two areas of the room. The entire room was covered in a thick blue carpet that looked like it had been freshly vacuumed. The entire setup was extremely welcoming after a day of driving.

"Think the hotel still has power?", Raf asked, "maybe back up generators?"

I set the duffel bag and my rifle down on the coffee table before walking over to the lamp and clicking it. It came on, lighting the entire room.

"Guess that's a yes", Raf said.

"If we still have power", I began, "the chances are we still have running water, you shower fist, but be quick, who knows how long the power will last."

"Gotcha", Raf said.

Raf grabbed a change of clothes from his duffel and disappeared into the bathroom. I stripped off my plate carrier and boots before crashing onto the bed with a huff, glad to finally be out of the truck.

"Glad I heeded Dad's advice and installed softer seats", I said to myself, "I'd be sapped worse if I hadn't."

Once I had stretched myself out, I turned my attention to the computer. I plugged it into the wall and switched it on. It went through all the loading screens before taking me to the "Setup" screen.

"Huh", I said through a smile, "brand new computer."

I went through all the set up process, making one account for myself and one for Raf. I had just gotten done with making Raf's account when he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a red long

sleeved T shirt and flannel pants.

"Your turn", he said.

"Right", I said standing up.

I grabbed a change of clothes and showered off. The water came out hot. It was so nice to take a real shower for the first time in almost a month. When I got out, I felt clean, like really clean. I walked back out into the bedroom and unzipped the duffel bag that had the MRE's in it.

"What ya want for dinner?", I asked.

"Is that Spanish rice still in there?", Raf asked.

"Yeah", I said taking it out, "good choice."

It took an hour to make the rice and the worst part is that we ate it in under a minute. After everything had been cleaned up, I shoved the couch against the door, bolted it and then crashed on the bed closest to the window while Raf sprawled on the other one.

"Where exactly are we going Cameron?", Raf asked.

"Silverton Texas", I replied, "I been hearing on 208HRtZ that there's a town of three hundred people who didn't get sick."

"When do you think we'll make it?"

"At the rate were going", I replied, "with no delays, maybe three weeks."

"Three weeks?", Raf asked.

"Is what it is", I replied turning out the light.

Dark and quiet fell over the room. A few minutes later, Raf asked.

"Think our lives will ever be the same? Or even regain a semblance of normal?"

Truthfully, I wasn't sure what to say.

"Depends what you mean by normal", I replied him, "pretty soon, our old lives, we'll look back on them and all it will be is a very faint, foggy memory. Mythical even".

"That's real assuring Cameron", Raf said sarcasticly.

"Hey", I returned, "you asked and I answered."

"Then maybe", Raf said yawning, "I should stop asking you questions".

"Yeah maybe", I answered before falling off.