51 Reasons not to Say Goodbye

2: The Past (part two)

The car ride lasted approximately twenty more minutes. Twenty minutes of feeling helpless and insignificant. We saw a few more people on the roads; Jefferson spotted about fifteen car wrecks, and my heart would skip a beat every time I saw another 'zombie.'

"This country was born to fail." Jefferson said.

"Son, countries were built."

"No, they were always there." I corrected them.

"Built by God, honeybunches." He finished.

He left me in silence to wonder if God built us to die.

.....

James Levee lived out in the country, in a small community populated by smaller houses and bigger amounts land. My dad pulled up to the side of the house, and parked the car. The engine noise left with my minuscule mask of tranquility; the cape of fear spread out around me once again.

I was slightly less terrified when five sweaty men in muscle shirts come from the back gate. My dad slams the truck door and, leaving me and Jefferson inside, goes out to greet them.

I think I remember Jefferson asking me if I was okay.

He definitely said, "They have two cats here."

And I said, "Really? Will we have to eat them or something?"

"No. They catch the mice. and bugs."

Sure enough, there WERE two cats there, Tilly and Zoey.

In the month after we got there, the population of 'James's Place' went to twenty four people, (14 men and 10 women) two cats, a bunch of chickens, two horses (Dad and a guy named Alvin went back to get our horses, but one was gone) one dog, and two goats.

We all helped tear down the fence surrounding James's house, and rebuilt it to surround four of the houses. James's house was made into the sleeping house, where most of us slept. The house behind it was named the 'multipurpose house,' the one beside that was the 'meeting house,' and the one across from the meeting house and beside the sleep house was the storage house.

The neighbors had all left.

We were going to find out why.

But, we had it good for about three years.

Three years consisting of watch duty, target practice, days without food, a life of solitude inside of a world of danger. People seemed to like pretending that the world was fine. My new and enlarged family didn't openly deny the outbreak or the messes mankind had made. Of course not. But you didn't mention it in conversation.

The world around me was acknowledged like a deaf man would recognize sound: they knew it was there, it just didn't comprehend in their brains at the right time.

Perhaps it was because denial is the first stage of loss. And we have lost our world, our friends, our safety.

Year two was when Joey died. Joey had gone out with some others on a raid, and a zombie had 'infected' him. Being the people they were, the group left him.

Jefferson was in that group.

Maybe it was for the best. Perhaps not. There's always the possibility that my mind was, and still is, corroded by the false assumption of safety and greed. I hope so. At least then, the majority of people would have moral.

Year two was also the year of the hoard. In the middle of the day, a group of these zombies just started trying to tear down our (incredibly stable) fence. They didn't get that far. And the blood stayed on the other side of the fence, where it must have dissolved it's self over the period of a week.

Year two had the best Christmas so far. A successful raid brought back many luxuries. I ended up getting new hair ties, two new shirts, and a half-used bottle of lotion.

The beginning of year three was a bumpy time. Kenneth jr., the youngest out of everyone (he was 11) was caught stealing food.

It was really bad.

They put an ELEVEN YEAR OLD in 'jail' for a day. The jail was just the basement of the storage house, but he was ELEVEN. For crying out loud, he probably didn't think he was doing anything that bad.

That didn't seem to strike anyone as an 'unusual repugnant situation,' with the exception of me, Clarence, and of course K.J himself. Clarence was K.Js older brother, fifteen at the time. Because of that, Clarence and I actually got really close. Not boyfriend/girlfriend close, more like brother/sister close. It was a good bond to have in a situation like that.

Year three also brought on more zombies. Inside the fence we were as close to 'completely safe' as it could get, but it was gross. The zombies, not being able to feel pain, were completely pink from sunburn.

Pink zombies! What's next? Unicorns?

But really. It was starting to feel like an alternate universe.

The final important thing that happened in year three was that I fell. That actually happened a week ago.

I was on watch for the night, up on the platform on the storage house roof. Alvin was on the one on the multipurpose house, and if it wasn't for him, they wouldn't have discovered me until morning.

I was looking up at the moon. It was so beautiful, and I remember taking a step back. I slipped.

Luckily, the storage house was one story. I slid down the side, and the last thing I remember was that sensation of falling and a bit of orange and green mist.

When I woke up, Jefferson handed me the journal I have now. "Happy birthday you clumsy wreck."

He started crying, which was surprising. Jefferson doesn't cry.

"It's okay, Jeff. I'm fine." I had said.

"I've missed you so much..." He sighed.

"How long was I out for?"

He doesn't respond. My brother just sits there for a moment, then leaves.

He left before I could ask what was wrong.

And that brings us up do date.