When the World Ends

Snow

One day, she began to cough.

It began as a quiet, quick cough, but grew to a deep, wet cough within a few days. It was bad enough that she had to remove her mask.

   The boy with the gray eyes dug around in his bag to see if we had any medicine remaining. All we had were expired headache pills--Advil, maybe--and he handed them over to her despite the date. She looked as if she were in pain every time she coughed. Not just slight pain,either, but deep, constant pain.

Then, red.

Snow fell lightly from the sky, the same color as the ash that covered everything now. It was only getting colder by the day, and we had to make it south soon, or we would freeze to death.

She was still coughing. She shook now, violently. I prayed silently at night for her to recover, as she always had. As she began to make less distance each day, my prayers only increased in amount.

   And then, one day, she collapsed. And she convulsed and coughed up red, so much red that I wondered how it could have come from her. And she looked at me, the permanent hurt in her eyes conveying that she knew she wouldn't be recovering from this.

I don't remember much from the next day. I remember screaming--was it mine? I remember pain. I remember the boy with gray eyes telling me we should leave before we froze to death.

   The next day, the boy with the gray eyes left. I stayed by her side. She needed me.
   Three days, and I still didn't move.

Four days. I was hungry, thirsty, losing track of time and feeling only pain and hurt and confusion.

   Then, her voice.

Keane, it's time to go. We'll freeze here.

   And I had told her I was tired, so tired, and she'd laughed and told me we needed to get going.
   But you're still sick.

No, I feel much better now.

   Oh. Are you sure you're ok?

I feel much better now, Keane. I don't hurt.

   I'd stood up and looked at her. She'd smiled and held out her hand, and we'd walked together, just like that.

But I'd never once looked at the ground, where there was so much red covering the gray snow.

   I think I'd known that if I had, I wouldn't have gotten up.