30 Years of War

*Flashback*

“Mom! Mom don’t go please stay awake.”  I push and shove hoping that some miracle would wash over her and the infection wouldn’t spread.  Dad is already gone, he’s gone.  Joshua, my brother had to shoot him before he tried to kill the two of us.  I’m on the floor sobbing, exhausted at what everything has become. 

“I love you.”  She smiles at me and slowly starts drifting away. 

“No mom please.”  Tears wash over my face once again.  She falls limp and silent just like everyone else has.  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you in time.”  I hug her and hold onto her until I feel her arms clutching onto my back.  I scream for my brother but he is nowhere to be found.  I pull out my hand gun and push her away with my other hand.  For some reason I can’t, I just can’t shoot her. 

Her eyes are dark and cold, they’ve turned a different color and her skin is turning gray and untouchable.  I crawl back on my arms because I know shooting her is something that I won’t be able to do.

“If you don’t shoot her Heidi I’ll shoot you.”  I hear a familiar voice coming from behind.  It’s Joshua with his gun pointed at me.  In shock I just keep kicking my mother back so she won’t get to me.   My brother would never make me shoot her, never.

“I c-cant I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”  He shoots me in the head.  I wake up in a panic looking around the room panting.

“Heids are you okay?”  My hands clutch the worn down blanket I took with me when we first went on the run.

“Bad dream.” 

“Heids, do you want to talk about it?” I shake my head no and lay back down.

It’s been 30 years, 1 month, and 14 days since the earth was blessed with billions of people.  I don’t know how many people there are on earth now exactly, but I do know that if there are more than a couple thousand we’d be lucky.  The war against the growing infection started 30 years ago when my parents first received their high school diplomas.  The government was corrupted when the virus struck our president at the time. 

My parents had my brother about five years after the first breakout.  The infection was not severe until ten years after the first human being was infected.  Jameson Murrs.  I still remember my parents telling me stories about how he was infected.  He was a very accomplished doctor that resided in upstate Michigan.  One day he was feeling a bit worn down after he had received allergy shots for peanuts which he had received every two weeks.  When he returned home he fainted walking into the living room of his home.  His wife tried to wake him up but it was no use.  Later that night, he had managed to spread the disease to his wife, two kids, and one neighbor.

The first mistake the government made was taking Jameson and the four other infectees to a laboratory to have tests done on each of them individually.  The scientists and doctors had no idea what they had ahead of them, and with just one bite each of them were taken down.  You see, the more effective way to take care of this situation would have been to kill all five of them on site, and to get rid of the shots that were being given right away.  This would have kept us all safe and out of harms way.  I would be living a normal life with my brothers, mom, dad, and possible little sister or brother.

Every night before my parents passed away three months ago, we were told to say a prayer for the Jameson family and for ourselves.  I still remember when I didn’t pray for the first time and my parents were so ashamed.  Everything was just growing out of proportion and nothing was getting better. 

The first fourteen years of my life, my family and I lived with three different groups of people.  My parents learned how to judge whether these people were muggers or if they were trying to get past the plague.  When we settled with our first group of forty people when I was only two, I only remember certain things about the group because I was so young when we settled with them.  I remember losing my first tooth when I was six and learning how to shoot when I was eight.  Joshua always tells me stories about how I would have learned earlier if it weren’t for mom telling dad that I Was too young.

We moved to our second group shortly after I learned how to shoot because many people were falling to the infection.  Our second group was where I had my first crush, this is probably the most eventful thing unapocalyptic thing that had ever happened to me at 12 years of age.  We left shortly after I received a kiss from Noah.  I still remember it because my dad was really angered at what had happened.  I still chuckle at this, it hurts knowing dad isn’t around anymore, and that Noah has probably passed as well.  The third group only lasted a couple months; it was when my mother found out that they weren’t being proportional that we decided to live on our own.

I lay on the hard ground for the rest of the night until I slowly drift off to sleep dreaming about what could have been.  I miss my parents, and friends that I had made in the groups before.  I’ve gotten quite used to the fact that I will lose people.  Joshua tells me it’s because I grew up in this type of setting, which makes a lot of sense but I’m not so sure about it.  I do know one thing though, I can’t lose Joshua because if I do, I’ll lose myself completely.