The Road to Nowhere

Chapter 11: Saving Summer

Chapter 11

"So Daniel... How long have you and your family been living here?" I say as I move Phoebe's toys into a pile on the floor.

"Well Cameron, I think it's been about 10 years now." He says as he flops onto the brown leather couch.

I hear Phoebe's little feet pat across the wood floor as she dives into her father's lap. He smiles and gives her a hug. Linda laughs as she sits in the lounge chair across the room.

I sit on the couch next to Daniel and Phoebe. "That's a long time."

"Yes, it is." He agrees. "This was my father's house, I grew up here."

"And so did I!" Phoebe cuts in with a small giggle.

Daniel, Linda, and I laugh at Phoebe. I can tell she's a little embarrassed because her cheeks have a small tint of red on them. I'm guessing she's not the type to be the center of attention.

They must have been really happy before "Z-Day" started. I'm surprised that they don't have to fear for their lives, the infected just don't come near their house. Maybe it's because they live so far away from civilization. I remember someone saying that we're an hour away from the city. I didn't know there was farmland and woods out here. This might be a good place to move to.

This is the first time I've felt safe in a long time. There's no threat of infected walking up to your window at night while you're sleeping. Since I live alone, I always had to watch for everything. I used to live with my father until he passed a couple of months ago, a little bit after Summer's mother did. It was really hard, I was so happy Summer was there for me. I needed her, and she needed me. I can tell it still hurts her.

Living by myself had its perks. I'm not always told to clean and to make myself look presentable. Well, there's no reason to. The only time I do is when I see Summer. Another perk: I don't have hormones always crowding the house. Since my mother died when I was young and I don't have any siblings, I've always had an easy life. I did try to move in with Summer and her family, it would have been easier than risking getting bit every day going to her house, but her father wouldn't allow it. I don't think he understands that it's different now. We need to survive, and living in the houses we did before the outbreak isn't surviving. It's hiding.

I do miss my father. All the good memories I've had were with him. Hunting, fishing, building our boat that sank last summer. I've had a pretty good life with him. As for my mother, she died when I was four from a head-on collision with a drunk driver. I remember her, to an extent. She had long curly brown hair. And I remember that she was really tall. She also had beautiful green eyes, just like mine.

I only remember one memory of her. It was before I started preschool and she helped me learn how to write my name. It was really bright in the room, probably because it was in the middle of the day. I remember the sunlight hitting my back, making me feel all warm inside. It smelled like lavender, because of the scented candle on the other side of the room. There were papers covering the table, some with pictures on them and some with my misspelled name.

"No silly, your name isn't 'Camon'." My mother laughed with a voice that made me feel so loved and content.

She grabbed a different piece of paper and started to write my name, saying every letter she wrote.

"C A M E R O N"

"There you go." She smiled.

We sat there for what seemed like forever. She taught me how to write each letter, and how each letter sounded. She didn't stop until I knew it by heart.

I remember the day the cops showed up at my house to tell my father and me that my mother had died. We were eating dinner, I think we were having spaghetti. I could tell my father was tense before dinner because he called my mother and she didn't answer. When there was a knock on the door, my father jumped up and ran to greet what he thought was my mother. I remember sitting at the dinner table watching the two cops step into the house. They mumbled something real quiet. Then my father fell to the floor crying. I ran up to him to ask him what was wrong. He didn't tell me until later that night.