Vial #127

Chapter 14: Wrong about the River

At first nobody moves. I stay flat against the top of the truck. Then, a flashlight beam trickles out of the forest between the leaves. I slowly lower my gun and shout out, "It's okay, no need to be afraid, we're human too."

"Of course you're human, what else would you be?" the voice calls out, worn down by old age.

"Biters," my voice is loud. I cringe at the volume.

"What in the name of God is a biter?" I look to Aiden in confusion. Who doesn't know what a biter is? Has this man been isolated for nearly half a year? How is that possible?

"I think we should have a talk," I say. Obviously this man is unaware of the destruction done to the world. I clamber down the truck and motion for the others to follow. The man comes out, holding a rifle in his wrinkled hands.

He leads us to a cozy cabin, just a two- minute walk into the forest. This is good because I don't want to venture too far from the truck.

"Do you really know nothing? At all?" I say.

"I haven't seen another living thing for nearly six months." his bushy eyebrows go cross, "you guys out camping?" he continues.

"No, I don't really know how to tell you this, but the world you know, is gone. There's been a horrible infection. It's widespread. There are very few survivors." My voice goes weak, in sync with the events.

"What kind of disease?" the man questions us, curious to find answers.

"It kills people but then they come back and eat flesh, like the living are some feast at Thanksgiving." I look down, acknowledging the truth about the worlds.

He looks shocked. "There's no cure?" he gazes at me, directly in the eye.

I shake my head. "It happened so fast, within a few weeks. Over half the population is gone; probably even more." He asks how you get infected, "They bite you and then you go into some sort of altered state; when you come back you're gone."

"Can I call my family? Do you have a phone," I shake my head.

"You don't get it, the world is gone. There's no phone, no internet, nothing. It's survival mode, you've gotta fend for yourself."

The man looks down and introduces himself as Bill. We exchange names casually. "Do you mind if we stay here, at least for a few days? We just lost some in our group."

"Sure," he says and begins to show us to a spare bedroom. We kindly decline and instead return to the truck. When we get back, the other three take watch, while Aiden and I rest. I can't sleep, my mind won't stop racing. How many people were still alive? How many didn't know what was even happening?

Over time, the stars move towards the horizon and the sun begins to shine from behind the car, casting shadows from behind the mountains. The bags under my eyes feel heavy, weighing my eyelids shut, allowing my mind some rest but instead of listening to my body, I get up and open the car door. My footsteps on the gravel are rough, the jagged sound of rocks crunching under my weight. Even from here, I can hear the river, flowing down. The water cascades forward, carving out a riverbed that, over thousands of years, is gradually getting bigger. Sunlight showers down, brightening the world into a soft, golden environment.

When I walk toward the shore, I briefly spot a fish, swimming along the current. The water seems so pure; fresh. Its scent lightens my lungs. I catch sight of Bill along the shoreline. Huge rubber boots go up to his thighs as he fishes in the water. Behind him is already a pile of three large fish, bigger than my forearm. On the opposite side of the river is a towering cliff. Pine trees grow straight until the edge; their roots dangling downwards in nothing.

For a moment, the sun shines down, casting shadows over the cliff. Tiny streaks escape the mesh and one ray hits me right in the eye. Then a figure moves in the way, coving my view. I look up, puzzled. Is this a real person? A biter? Or just the extreme light playing tricks with my vision?

Suddenly I bolt awake. My body stays frozen in confusion, feeling exposed, weighing the probability of what is happening. Eventually I turn away, realizing it was all a dream. I wonder how long I was asleep? Where is Bill? I urgently trek back to the truck to find Aiden but it's empty. The others are nowhere to be seen. Stef is still curled up in a pile of blankets.

"Hello? Guys?" My voice grows faint as the only response is silence. My mind races with the possibilities. What if they were all taken by biters?

My footsteps seem to echo, casting soft clouds of dust into the air. In the car, it almost looks normal, except that my Glock 22 isn't in the glove box. Its lies at the bottom of the truck where your feet would go, as if someone dropped it there.

Taking it in my hand, I take a few rounds in my pockets and turn around. Behind me is Bill, "Have you seen the others? I came back from the river and they were gone." I share; confused.

"No I haven't. I'm sure they're around." he says, his hand reaches into his pocket.

"It's just not like them to just disappear without telling me." I continue, "I think something is wrong." I let my voice go vulnerable, quieting down. There are just too many options that could occur, ending in the loss of their lives.

"They'll show up. Why don't we go back to the cabin for a cup of coffee; how about that?" he offers, trying to be friendly.

"It's fine, I'll wait here. When they come back, they'll come here," I turn to go sit in the front seat, awaiting their return.

"Come on, they'll figure out that you've joined me," Somehow his voice shows the elements, harsh and controlling.

"I'm fine right here," my voice becomes more set, I'm determined not to change my mind.

I reach my hand out to shut the car door, but his hand intercepts. He laughs, a deep and cruel chuckle. "Little girl, if I were you," he says, condescending now, "I'd put down that gun."