About midday, we come upon the outskirts of a small town that's eerily quiet and still, not a soul seen out and about in the front yards of the few homes we see in the distance. But what should I expect this deep into the apocalypse? At the edge of town, a sign says the population is 1,801 and growing.
"Make that eighteen hundred and three," Ariel says, her tone flat and her expression without emotion. Her earlier amused behavior at the gas station, sticking her tongue out, seems dampened by our five-hour walk in the heat of the day. Sweat has soaked her hairline and ran down her neck to where it darkens her tank top. She had worn a loose-fitting shirt over it last night, but the sun convinced her to carry it by hand today. I offered to put it in my backpack, but she said it wasn't necessary.
"Based on the last four months," I reply. "I'd say those consensus numbers are optimistic." Perspiration beads on my forehead and trickles down my temples. So far, we hadn't seen the second horseman or heard the pounding of hooves at all today.
Up ahead, the handful of buildings that make up the town center come into sharper focus as we draw closer. At the first house, we find the front door standing wide open. Even now, my first instinct is to knock, but I resist. Ariel shakes her head, as if to tell me that we should move on, but I think we should clear the place and see if there is anything valuable we need.
On the front porch, I glance down and see a baseball bat lying among other stray items and garbage strewn about. I bend over and snatch up the bat, weigh it in my hands.
"Let's check the house out." I hold my new weapon ready to strike.
"Probably not a good idea."
"Just stay close and be ready to run."
"If you say so." She cut her eyes up at me. "But if you get us killed, I'll never forgive you."
At the threshold of the door, I call out and get nothing in return. Not a peep or a whimper. Nothing.
But then, a wet lapping noise makes its way back to me, coming from the back of the house. Creeping, careful of each footfall, I step inside and turn a corner with Ariel on my heels. From here, I see the back door is open, and in the gap, I spot the wagging tail of a dog, possibly a golden retriever from the size and color. At first sight, I think the animal is drinking water from a bowl, but then I notice a human leg on the back porch in a pair of jeans.
As I extend my hand to hold Ariel back, a sick feeling grips my stomach. I wag my head to let her know we don't need to go any further into the house.
Something slams shut behind us. The dog yelps and takes off, startled. We whip around to see a man with glowing red eyes blocking the path to the front door.
Ariel latches onto my arm. "Just like I told you on the road this morning. That's what they look like when they see the rider of the red horse."
The man stands taller than me with wild hair, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Underneath an unruly beard, a distorted sneer twists his face, giving him the look of a madman. He doesn't speak, but only growls... and then charges toward us with an animalistic roar.
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END OF ALL THINGS - An Apocalyptic Fairy Tale & Love Story
FantasíaBefore the end began, all the pure in heart were removed from the Earth. All adolescents, young children, and babies. All who were innocent and depended on adults for what they needed the most, true love. Because love had grown scarce and cold in th...
