Living in Before

Wildfire

We lived on a day to day basis. The present was counterpart from the past. Unpredictable. A series of events not yet woven together, but still sitting in the scrap pile. Every morning, I woke up thinking I'd be in a bed, hospital or not. I'd blink and forget I wasn't alone anymore. I considered the place, the journey, as a camping trip. It made it easier to deal with not having internet or the ability to go grocery shopping whenever you felt like it. I only had difficulty coping with the unknown questions: Would I ever see my family again? Was there hope for humanity to get back to normal? Would the others survive? Would I?

Rick brought the walkie to his lips, gazing at the skyline as he took a knee.

The foggy city looked like a dim shadow against the colorful horizon. One thing so beautiful and the next so grotesque. The forestry around us created a frame for life.

"Morgan, I don't know if you're out there. I don't know if you can hear me. Maybe you're listenin' right now... I hope so... I found others. My family, if you can believe it. My wife and son. They're alive." He grinned, but lost his moment of happiness as he remembered me, "Can't say the same about her family. We haven't found them yet... There's somethin' you need to know. Atlanta isn't what we thought. It's not what they promised. The city is..." Rick sighed. "Do not. Enter. The city. It belongs to the dead now... We're camped a few miles northwest, up by a big abandoned rock quarry. You can see it on a map... I hope you come find us, but be careful. Last night, walkers came out of the woods. We lost people. Good people." As he reassured Morgan I was alive, he glanced at me. "She hasn't talked yet, but I can see the change in her. I think she just realized... things. Watch yourself, Morgan. Take care of your boy. I'll try you again tomorrow at dawn." There was only static as my friend let go of the button. He stood and examined my blank eyes. "You don't have to talk, but just tell me, give me a sign," he stated, on edge as he gestured to himself, "that you're here. That you're not lookin' to check out after last night. I know Amy was your friend an' I know you didn't mean to hide in the R.V. I see that... but you can't blame yourself. All you can do now is what you think is right."

It was nice to know he cared. I didn't want him to believe his words were false. The least I could do was grant him peace of mind. "I'm here." My voice was strained. I nodded as a painful smile stretched against my tight skin. My puffy eyes, from crying through the night, were fixed on the skyline.

Rick mimicked my nodding as he fiddled with the walkie. We told Morgan we'd contact at dawn. We missed the first day, but not today. Together, Rick and I walked back to camp. We were silent. Since last night, we hadn't spoken. I felt too ashamed, too useless.

"I told her she reminded me of Charlotte," I whisper, finally a sobbing mess. I grip Shane's shirt as I cry into his chest. I try to explain myself, but he shushes me.

God knows how many we lost. And I hid in the R.V.

I look up. And all those people are dead. Or dying. Or worse.

Rick and I joined the small group by the fire and saw Andrea on the floor holding Amy's limp hand. The two sisters were under the shade of the R.V. One dead, one alive.

Rick stood by his wife. "She still won't move?"

"She won't even talk to us. She's been there all night... What do we do?"

"We can't just leave Amy like that," Shane told us. "We need to deal with it. Same as the others."

I nodded shamefully. "When I met her, one of the first things Amy told me was that becoming a walker was a fate worse than death. If Andrea doesn't end it, I will." I couldn't save her life, but I could save her the tragedy of becoming an undead monster.