Isinglass

Chapter 3

As I reach the edge of town, the headlights barely piercing the absolute darkness of the road ahead, I pull the van over on an impulse. Peering out the passenger-side window on my right, I can make out the shapes of headstones from the town graveyard in the peripheral glow of the lights.

It's strange. When I was a kid, this place terrified me in the full light of day. Yet now, even in the utter darkness and being completely alone, the calm orderliness of death in this place is a comforting contrast to the chaotic open grave of the town behind me. Here the occupants have been neatly preserved, dressed, and contained for eternity, their final resting place marked with the indelible finality of words cut into stone. Not so for those left behind now—for my own parents—for whom there would be no marker beyond a fading red X painted on the house that was now their masoleum. They would be left in the merciless and unrelenting hands of time. They deserve better.

Sighing, I turn back to the road ahead. Molly sits in the passenger seat next to me, her tongue lolling lazily to the side as she gazes out into the night, blissfully unburdened by any such morbid thoughts. Reaching over, I bury a hand in the fur of her neck. She leans into my touch, both us taking comfort in the other. I sigh again, relieved by the simple presence of this unconditionally loyal animal.

For a moment, I begin to worry what the health authority at the evacuation point might do to the dog when we arrive in the city. Would they take her from me? Would they put her down like they've done to the countless other pets and livestock? Perhaps it would kinder to leave her here, but the thought seems cruel. Frankly, I'm not sure I could part with her at this stage, even if I could be convinced it was for the best. Surely it is clear by now that these animals are not the source of the problem nor carriers in any way. Either way, we can't stay here. I will sort it out when the time comes. Resolving myself, I put the van into gear and slowly roll forward along the tree-lined highway ahead. I'm hesitant at first, the inky blackness of the night filled with all the unknowns that lay ahead.

After a few miles, my nerves begin to calm and I start to pick up speed. Molly has already fallen asleep, her paws twitching slightly as she dreams, and I envy the easy peace she seems to have found. Yet, as the road winds eastward, following the gradual rise in elevation, I too am able to breath more easily, the months of tension beginning to loosen ever so slightly. It is going to be ok. I'm going to be ok. Having endured the last months of suffering, loss, and isolation, the thought of being with other people fills me with that now familiar painful longing. Even if the conditions are brutal- and they most likely will be- anything is more bearable than what I have been living, what I would be living if I remained.


Then, as I crest a hill, my eye is drawn to something in a low-lying field on my right. Sure enough, there are lights! Vehicles of some kind are stopped in the field below, less than half a mile from the highway. Molly stirs and gets to her feet as I quickly pull over. Telling her to stay, I reach behind my seat and pull out the rifle before getting out. Better safe than sorry. As I jump across the empty ditch to the edge of the rocky escarpment overlooking the field, I strain to see if I can make out anything.

Sure enough, I see the shapes of people moving as they walk in front the lights of their vehicles- likely two off-road trucks given the height and placement of the lights relative to their shadows. Immediately thrilled at the sight, I shout and wave to get their attention. I wait but there is no reaction or response. Perhaps their own engines are drowning out my voice. I am a fair distance away, after all. What if they don't see me? What if they leave me alone, again?

The cold dread overpowers my better judgment and I fumbled in my pocket for a shell, stuffing it clumsily into the shot gun. They're going to hear this! I think triumphantly, raising the gun into the air and squeezing the trigger. The thunderous bang that follows set both my ears ringing but I hardly notice as the gun jerks violently from my unprepared hands, skittering out in front of the car. Thankfully it landed in the headlights, so I rush over to pick it up.