The Time Traveller

Chapter Three

The earth was scorching hot. Rome's eyes burned like he was sitting too close to a fire pit. Heat waves rose up off the ground. The ground was just dirt, barely any plants, dry and cracked, like it hadn't seen water in years. There weren't any buildings around.
"I know," James said, wiping the sweat off his forehead, "I see you fanning yourself. Believe me, it only gets hotter. This is the mild area, and still a desert."
"Where are we?" Rome asked. "I mean," he added quickly, "geographically."
"Texas," he responded, "or...what used to be Texas. We're heading down towards Mexico, but we only need to make it to the border."
"Why?"
"The first infected person," James started, "he came from northern South America. Came here and infected pretty much all of North America as it spread. The disease messes with your brain. Simple things become scary, like clowns or a golden retriever puppy. The people you love most become your worst enemies. They're scared, their brains are working against them, against us. And if they know you, they'll come after you, because every good memory they have of you is twisted into a nightmare."
Rome didn't reply, but kept walking. He fanned himself with his shirt again, when a small patch of land with a building in the center came into view.
"Ah," James sighed, "here we are."
It was small and made of wood. Inside, the ramshackle house had an old mattress on the wall opposite the door, a table, and a cabinet that was open and Rome saw was full of canned food. James rushed in, grabbed a can of green beans, walked into the living room, and fell back onto the deteriorating mattress. Rome followed him, grabbing a can of chicken noodle soup. He opened the can and bent the top like a spoon, bringing some towards his mouth.
Is this what the world will look like in a few years? He asked himself.
"So," James asked, swallowing a lid full of green beans. "How do you feel about being the last person to change the fate of the world?"
"What?" Rome asked, suddenly looking down at the writing on his hand.
"They didn't tell you?" James looked up at Rome. "Your grandparents on either your mom or your dad's side were apparently part of two different bloodlines. The people trying to fix all this are the people who hooked up your parents. But since your other parent was normal, and they had you, you aren't a full bloodline. Meaning your kid can't do it, so you have to be the one."
"But-"
"The letter lied," James interrupted, "copied by someone who was told to do it, and means nothing to them."
"So does that mean the portal is closed?" Rome asked.
"Unfortunately."
They finished their cans of beans and soup, then fell onto the mattress on their backs. It didn't take them long to both fall asleep.
Rome must have slept about 5 hours. He didn't have a watch, but it was nightfall already. James wasn't next to him.
He sat up and looked around. He wasn't in the house at all.
"James?" He asked to the air. There wasn't an answer.
He took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. In the darkness, he could make out the empty metal cans laying on their sides on the floor, the outline of the window, and not much else.
"Great," Rome said out loud, "now I really don't know where I'm going."
"Rome?" He heard someone call. James.
The voice wasn't too far away.
"James!" Rome yelled. "James!"
Rome threw the door open and saw James standing a little ways away from the house, battling three people by himself, machete in hand. Rome ran for him.
James kicked the one on the right in the stomach, throwing him back. He shoved the middle one to the ground with his left hand, then brought his right arm across his chest and cut clean through his neck, and he fell to the ground.
Rome was running still, to far away to help.
The guy on his left came back towards him, arms outstretched. James hit him hard in the chest with his machete, who then pulled the machete, along with the man, closer to him, then snapped his neck.
Rome was out of breath, but James needed help.
The last man stumbled up off the ground, and James quickly slammed the machete into his skull.
He turned around, bloody, just as Rome caught up to him.
"You should have stayed in the house," James told him. "I was okay."
"I know," Rome said, out of breath. "But there's going to come a time when you won't be."