They remember that day like it just happened.
The day the apocalypse became just another news story, instead of their entire lives.
The day they stopped running for their lives.
They were picked up by the Red Cross what felt like hours later.
Emily, half awake and delirious, hair stuck to her wet cheeks.
Sam, limping along on half-dead feet, eyes downcast and exhausted from the sleepless night.
Brendan, unconscious, face pale as paper, all the blood drained out of his shoulder and onto the ground.
James, less pale, but even closer to the edge of death.
The four that remained.
They were brought up in a helicopter and flown away, farther east, farther away from their homes, to Quebec, where a hospital awaited them.
They were treated and poked and probed, and Emily waited for her friends to come out of surgery. She waited all day and all night and all day again, with her hands in fists and her mouth rejecting food or water.
Sam was the first to come out. Emily pulled him into a long, suffocating hug when she saw his face.
One of his legs was gone. The left one. Up to the knee. The foot on the other leg was also missing. He had titanium replacements, and he offered Emily a watery smile.
They waited together for a long time after that. Sam had his first real meal in weeks. He had a clean change of clothes. He slept without fearing for his life.
They learned a day later that Brendan had fallen into a coma. Only time would tell if he ever woke up. Sam squeezed his eyes shut when the two of them heard the news, and he put on a brave face.
Emily’s hands shook as she waited.
Waited for the boy she loved.
Doctors told her that he was in an unstable state, and any wrong move would lose him forever. He went through surgery after surgery and Emily waited and her hands shook.
Sam sat with her and he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
They thought about the people they had already lost.
Too many, too many.
They were so close to the end. The end of this horrible adventure.
He may not make it, doctors told her and Sam.
There’s a less than fifty percent chance, they said.
And when the doctor approached, shiny hair tied back, Emily started to cry.
“He’s alive and stable,” was what came out of the doctor’s mouth.
Sam’s head shot up in surprise.
Emily cried harder.
“The bullet missed his heart,” the doctor said.
“He’s very lucky,” the doctor said.
“He must have someone looking out for him.”
Emily knew he did.
James’ face was pale and grey and his curly hair was matted and dirty and his eyes didn’t love her yet but he was alive and Emily would wait for him forever.
