Two Summers Ago, the World Went to Shit

Chapter 14: Vacancy

Chapter 14: Vacancy

"What," he asked, a heartbroken tone in his voice.
"What is she saying, Sammi," he asked as his eyes glassed over.
"When I was hospitalized, before, they gave it to me sometime while I was here," I said, an emptiness filling inside of me.
"I didn't think it would actually be true," I admitted, "but I just had a feeling that it was a possibility. I just found my chart from that day, and it was documented."
He began pacing, glancing down at the dead zombie on the floor as he turned anxious circles in the room.
"Fuck," he shouted.
"Fuck," he said punching a hole into the wall behind him.
     He was taking this worse than I could've expected. I wanted to comfort him so badly, but honestly I needed comforting too. Rudy died—he's dead from this injection, so that means it's only a matter of time for me, right? I mean, this was like hearing that you have cancer and only have a few months to live. What do I do?
"You have survived the impossible; you have survived—god I just—I don't know. Sammi," he pleaded, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes, slightly unhinged.
"Sammi, I can't live without you. I need you here. And Grace—Grace needs you here."
I looked up at him for the first time during this exchange, a tear streaming down my cheek.
"I don't want to die," I admitted softly.
His heart ached. I could feel it. I knew how it felt. I knew exactly how it was to feel hopeless, useless—like there was absolutely nothing that could be done to fix a situation. I wanted to know exactly what Bailey was thinking, what was going through his head. Was he about to fall apart? Or was he keeping it together? It shouldn't have been like this. My life used to look so different. I was a nurse with an apartment in a busy city filled with noise and brightness, but now, I was a mother with a hospital room in a ghost town filled with silence and darkness. I was so empty; I wanted to feel again. For once, I wanted to live, I wanted to be healthy. And now that's being taken away from me?
After we'd all stood in the room trying to recover from this news, we decided to go back upstairs to our rooms where Bailey and I would try and figure out what could be done or how to cope until my clock ran out. Once I'd laid back down in my bed, Bailey went to find Ryan. When they both entered back into the room, Ryan looked confused as if Bailey hadn't given his the news yet.
"What's going on," he asked, looking at the two of us.
"Rudy died because he was given the injection prior to the apocalypse. His sister thinks that's what killed him," Bailey said.
"Oh wow," he said.
"He was given that injection when he was a patient here, so Sammi thought maybe they may have given her the injection when she was a patient here," Bailey continued.
His eyes widened.
"No," he said sadly.
"They didn't," he asked as he felt his heart sink.
"They did," I said frowning, trying to hold back any more tears.
"But we don't know for sure that's what killed him, right," Ryan asked trying to be optimistic.
"What else could it have been," Bailey asked.
Ryan frowned.
"I wonder if there were any signs. Did he just die or did he experience any symptoms before? Maybe we could look out for them," he suggested.
"We can talk to Lola after she's had time to grieve and see if she knew anything," Bailey said.
"If she had this theory already, they must've known something," Ryan said crossing his arms.
"I'm so sorry, Sammi," he added as I laid on my side, looking at the floor with an emptiness in my eyes.
"I just don't know what to think or how to move forward," I admitted.
"Do you think I could hold Grace today," I asked.
"I'll go get her," Ryan said with a smile.
Bailey and Ryan exited the room while I tried to organize the thoughts overcrowding my mind.
I never really thought about dying much until I was burdened with not knowing when it could happen, just that I was plagued with it coming sooner rather than seventy years down the road. It was a pretty scary feeling if you didn't believe in some higher power, and for me, I didn't. I didn't believe that there was a god somewhere up there with a place prepared for me. I think that's what gave peace to so many people riddled with the realization of eventually dying. Their mind wouldn't cease to exist, only their bodies. They'd find themselves in heaven and continue to find comfort in life or eternity. But, when I thought of dying, I thought of no longer housing the ability to think, feel, see—I would literally vanish from the existence of earth. I would be no more. That scared the shit out of me.
I wasn't scared enough to suddenly have a change of heart, one that believed someone died for my manifested sins. Maybe that's what set me apart from Bailey. He was this perfect human that was raised in Sunday school and service at church every week. He was heavily equipped on knowledge for separating right from wrong and thou shalt not do many things in order to avoid being burnt to smithereens in hell with the very being that felt the same about god as me. Why would the devil kill me for sharing the same beliefs as he did? That never made sense to me.
But, my sweet Bailey, he was pure. Despite his recent outburst of the word "fuck," that's about as unholy as he'd ever been. I think he'd be okay come time for his theoretical judgement day. He wasn't the right person for me to talk to about my fear of dying with though. He'd only give me positive religious affirmations of reuniting with my fallen loved ones and no longer feeling pain or sadness. I found it hard to believe that it would ever be possible for me to feel something other than pain and sadness. Sure, I was happy from time to time, but the occurrences were few and far between these days. I just couldn't share those beliefs with him.
Maybe that's what made the connection between Jackson and I so strong, the fact that our knowledge of existence was just not based on believing without seeing but just believing what was logical and realistic. Then again, if Bailey could believe that heaven and hell existed, it didn't seem so far-fetched in a world now being overrun by dead people. Maybe he wasn't so crazy after all. Maybe I'm just eternally pessimistic. Maybe, maybe, maybe.