Hope Against Hope

Beginning of the End

I wonder how the dinosaurs felt when they first saw the meteor in the sky approaching them; how the mammoths felt when they realised the ice was melting and their lives were over. The two of the biggest extinctions in the history of Earth wiped out up to ninety percent of life each time. The time we live in today is possibly the sixth extinction. I would have accepted this as inevitable, but until now I hadn't come to terms with the fact that I am part of the species about to go extinct. I am the one who wasn't able to evolve to face this virus, and I am now in the same position as the dinosaurs and mammoths. I am helpless.

To my overactive senses, he smells like boiling acid, his breath like gunshots to my ears, and the sight of him.... I force myself to take a look through the rearview mirror. Maybe he's not infected? How is that any better?  He looks normal, flesh still intact unlike other Infected we've seen lying motionless on the streets, but his eyes are quivering. His dilated pupils are black holes absorbing all the light and humanity this man is still holding on to. Something about them says 'run', not as a threat, but a warning, an advice. I have to think fast.

'You,' he says pointing to Natasha. His voice is hoarse but weak, it's taking him some effort to even speak so maybe we can overpower him. 'Get out.'

What? He's letting us go?

One look at each other and we're sprinting.

'Not you!' He coughs, pulls out something from his back, it's glinting black. It's a pistol and it's pointed right at me.

I gulp and sit back slowly. Natasha is trembling and on the verge of tears, I need to reassure her and relax myself or one of us is going to die. Taking deep painfully stinging breaths I pass her a look that says 'it's okay go'. I can handle this. Despite the fact that she's older than me our lean-on relationship has always been the other way around. I can do this. I can get us both out of this, and she sees it. Natasha nods, and begins to move out quietly and heads straight towards the entrance of our house with the keys out. Smart girl.

He leans towards my seat, grabbing onto the head support. He knows he's at an obvious disadvantage, or he wouldn't be carrying the pistol which means he's prepared for any surprise attacks I throw at him. I need him to get closer so I can act quickly, there's no redoing this.

He pulls himself up, he's heading for the driver's seat. My chance is coming and the closer it gets the more my heartbeat deafens me. 

He's on the driver's seat, it's now or never.His grip on the pistol is flimsy, it's pointed towards me but I can easily move in to my seat and dodge, if I get close to his head I can hit him hard enough and find an opportunity to escape. 

After speculating every loose end, I lunge. As I predicted he sees it coming, he shoots, but I was already inclined away from this aim. The window shatters all over my back, I am wearing enough layers to protect me but I can feel the bigger shards forcing their way in, biting my skin. I purse my lips and clench my fists against the pain, and aim them at his face. He doesn't see this coming and I get a clear shot at making my hits as fatal as possible. He tries to fire again but he's out of ammunition and the pistol just drops out of his hand. I keep hitting him holding his body up by the rags that cover him until he goes limp.

I pause trying to catch my breath as the tears started to make their way out. I get out and rush towards our front gate. Natasha is already there holding the door ready to close me out incase more came. This is our protocol, if the choice is between just saving yourself and killing us both, save yourself. But as I reach the door and the adrenaline defuses, a projection of our lives post-virus floods my mind. I finding myself asking, why? Why are we trying to survive? 

Before he fell completely limp that man showed a hint of humanity, a glint in his eyes spoke of guilt and pain. He was probably just like us once, and now that I've been in such close contact with the virus, I don't even know if I'll survive. That leaves Natasha alone. I look at her, her face is contorted, she's crying uncontrollably, evidently the same thing is going through her mind. I'm not sure whether I should go near her or not, but what's the point of her surviving in this wasteland if I'm dead? We've both been in close contact with the disease, we've both contracted it and come morning we both know we'll lose the supplies we scavenged. So, I get up and tightly hold on to her. She hugs me back.