When the World Ends

The Sickness

When the power went out, when the world first ended, she'd wondered aloud about the labs. And I'd told her that she was stupid, that there's no way the government would have diseases and viruses contained in a lab facility, in case of a situation like this.

She'd mentioned diseases created for our enemies in war, and I told that that would be inhumane; there's no way our government would do something like that.

Then, I'd learned just how wrong I was. Because a couple months after the world ended, the Sickness struck hard.

We saw the bodies first. The cities were the worst. We'd pass body after body, each a different age and all having the same red and blue spots on their face.

   Then, we'd pass the bodies even when we were miles away from a city. They were everywhere. She'd found some gas masks in an old hardware store, and at first we would  only wear them when walking through cities. But then we'd had to begin to wear them nearly 24/7.

   We called it the Sickness. We'd pass through a city with the people, their faces consisting of red and blue splotches that would turn into a polkadot-look after death. They'd be coughing up blood, and she'd turn Ollie away, but he wouldn't be looking anyways. His eyes may have been pointed towards them, but he was lost somewhere in his own mind. He hadn't talked since he saw the jump ropes, and the broken forms of the people who'd hung from them.

   We'd hear screaming, walking through the cities. And sometimes a person crazed by the disease would run by, double over, vomit blood, and fall over, dead, right in front of us. I say sometimes because that happened twice. And twice Ollie saw but didn't see, not really.

We didn't eat the food we found in cities. We were running dangerously low, but we didn't want to get sick.

   And once, she told me, Keane, if I get sick, I want you to shoot me. So I don't suffer. Could you do that?

   And I'd said, Yes, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't, I wouldn't shoot her, because she had to live. Because I loved her.

   But because I loved her, I promised her.

   Then, one morning, Ollie began to cough. And he coughed, and he coughed, and then he coughed up something wet and red.

   And she yelled, Keane!

   And I knew, and I ran to her and I pulled her away, and he looked up at us with huge, fearful eyes. And he almost said a word, he opened his mouth to say something, but she was struggling to get away from me and towards him and so he turned and he ran.

   His small, weak legs could not take him far. He made it several yards before he collapsed, his legs giving way, and I let her go and she ran to him. If we were going to get sick, I'd thought to myself, we'd be sick by now. I hope.

   The Sickness made its rounds in three days. Ollie's face grew splotchy, red and blue patches making his face appear to be a shade of purple. His eyes were bloodshot, and on the second day they bled and he cried and we knew he couldn't see. But she couldn't do it, I couldn't do it, we couldn't kill a little boy. Even if it meant it would end his suffering.

   On the third day, he began vomiting more than the blood of the previous two days. He'd begun to choke, and what came out I will not write, at least not now. I close my eyes and think of Ollie and I can only see the dying little boy we thought we'd managed to save.

   After he threw that up, she took my gun and she leveled it at the little boy's head. Her hand shook. Ollie moaned, and convulsed, and shook violently, and he died before she had to pull the trigger.

But I'm almost positive I heard him say, Lucy?as he held out his hands towards someone that we couldn't see. And he had smiled, that I saw for sure.

   And then he shook again, and he vomited red, and he died.

I know now this disease was meant to be unleashed if we encountered a war. Not on us, but on our enemies. And after seeing Ollie, and all the bodies littering the land, I wouldn't wish this horror upon anybody.

   She collapsed. She shook and clenched her jaw, but she did not cry. Silent tears streamed down my face, but I didn't make a noise, because she did not cry.

   When I asked her, later, why she didn't cry, when she'd obviously wanted to, she'd told me, I'm saving my tears for when I find him.

   I think, though, that that wasn't entirely true.

   I think the day Ollie died was the day that Robin broke.