Stephanie and Her Premature Armageddon.

Epilogue

Epilogue

Stephanie leaned back in her chair in her dorm room looking out the window at the once more sunny skies over Santa Barbara. It had been over a month since the outbreak had occurred, and things had begun to go back to normal. Many students were missing, and Westmont seemed smaller at times. But the students were resilient, and life continued. The trees had turned to their full range of colors, and the skies were clear and crisp all through the day and long into the night. Classes had resumed, and midterms were being graded (though with a curve due to “emotional effects on scholastic performance”).

            Stephanie looked back on the turn of events and felt very hopeful for the future. After all, she aced her Real estate law midterm and had picked out the perfect dress for winter formal.

            She rose from her chair, stretched a bit, and decided to head up to grab a bite from the DC. She walked past a wall now plastered with awards from the President of the United States, the Secretary of Defense, the National Security Agency, the Governor of California, the Mayor of Santa Barbara, the Coast Guard, the Marines, both Californian Senators, four Congressmen, the President of Westmont College Dr. Gayle Beebe, and a single signed picture of all the zombie defense team members all rough housing each other on Kerrwood lawn. She grabbed her jacket from the hanger and swept out the room to see what tasty Tuesday offered.

            She decided to check her mail before lunch and meandered over to her mail slot.

            “Ok you combination demon, how many tries will it take to open you today?” She asked her combination lock attached to the mail slot door. She stepped up on the step before her and carefully turned the dial along the right sequence. Just as she passed the last number, she heard the click that told her it had opened. She raised an eyebrow. This was unexpected. “It never takes only one try. It must be my lucky day,” she thought as she grabbed a small stack of letters from the slot. Just as she stepped down, a wayward frisbee landed beside her feet. She picked it up and looked across the lawn to see a freshman boy waving his hand for her to toss it back.

Stephanie remembered Danny’s words, “Try following through with your arm.”

            She broadened her stance and set her eyes on her target. With one graceful motion she spun the frisbee from her fingers kept her arm extended forward. She watched the frizbee sail up in the air to gently float back down right into the boy’s arms. She smiled brightly and straitened up, pleased with her performance. “It really is my lucky day.” She reaffirmed to herself. As she stepped down the stone stairs on her way to the DC, she shuffled through her mail. She flipped through a few bills and mass mail slips but stopped at one small peculiar letter. She looked at the return address but did not recognize it. Up in the top left hand corner was written

 

Joseph Vadim

14 Necurat Rd, 2866 Riveran Sange,

Chiribis, 925300,

Romania‎ - 0243 254 757