Becca (6 page)

“What if we’re the only people left?” David asked.

“Go to sleep.” Amber told him.

“What if?”

“Then we’ll have to kill you so the rest of us can get some sleep.” she said.

“Highly unlikely.” he said. “Being the only remaining male, that makes me important. If we want to perpetuate the species, you would all have to make sure I was safe. It’s not like there would be a lot of options for fathers of your babies, ya know.”

“Jeez, that really is all guys think about, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Hey, if I’m all you got left...”

“Okay, well even if you weren’t just thirteen, you’re the last person I’d sleep with.”

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked. “You’re too good for me?”

“You’re not a girl.” I told him.

“Well, there’s that. So if we were the only people left, that means you and Amber would be stuck together, being the only two lesbians.”

“And you’re perfect for each other.” Bridget said. She started laughing. “I knew you would be.”

“Wait, this is the girl in your class?” Tasha asked. “You’re sneaky.”

“Go to sleep.” I ordered everyone.

Okay, well, now I’m stuck taking care of the little girl my sister tried to set me up with. Where are her parents? Where are
my
parents. God, please take care of them.
 

Thursday April 7
^th
 

I never woke David. I was way too wired to sleep anyway. When the others started waking, I stood and stretched and tried to look awake for them. I have to be strong and look confident. Dad said so.

We left the blankets folded in a neat little pile on the sofa when we left. We had to slide the dresser out of the way to get out, and then we locked the door and closed it behind us. Surely that’s enough until they wake up. They don’t need three dead bolts and a dresser. Beside, there’s the window.

“Bridget, here.” I handed her the map. “You navigate for a while.”

“I suck with maps.” she whined.

“Try.”

“No. You do it.”

“Bridge,” I’m so tired I can’t read it, Bridget. Except I can’t tell her that. “I’m trying to pay attention in case we see anybody.”

“I’ll do it.” Amber said.

For the next hour Amber gave directions like a pro. Turn here, there’s a small road there, we could go this way and avoid main roads.

We found a lot full of cars and pulled in. I got out and walked around, keeping my eyes open for any danger, while the others tried to figure out how to siphon gas. We don’t dare go near a gas station right now. We passed one a while back, it was swarmed. I don’t know how many of those people were sick and how many were just going a little nutty from all of this, but there were pipes being swung at people, screaming, a guy jumping on top of cars. It was awful.

“Hurry up.” I told him.

“We’re trying.” Tasha said.

“I saw a car just up the road. If they head this way we have to get out.”

“Got it, Becca. Relax.”

If I relax I’ll fall asleep. I can’t do it. Not now. I’m responsible. If I went to sleep and anything happened to any of them Mom and Dad would blame me. Keeping these guys safe is my responsibility.

“Becca!” Tasha shook my arm. “Hey, you here? I said we’re ready.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

All day long we only passed three cars.  Sometimes we passed people walking. Once one of them stepped to the side of the road, like he may try to step in front and stop us, but I held the gun out the window and he stepped away. A few times we passed some of the ones that aren’t quite people anymore. They were oozing and stumbling, and some had chunks of skin falling off and green pus underneath. It was so disgusting.

Tasha drove late into the night. She didn’t want to stop. The others slept in the back seat. It was midnight when we reached Uncle Bill’s cabin.

“Finally, bed.” David said, almost sounding excited.

“No, no beds.” I told him. “Tonight we sleep in the living room. It’s safer. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”

“Becca, come on.” Bridget whined.

“No. Not tonight.”

“Fine, whatever. You suck.”

“Just get ready for bed.”

“I’m not tired. Why don’t the lights work?”

“Because the power is out. And Dad told you to listen to me, Bridget.”

“Well he’s not here.” she said. “He may never be here.”

She started crying. Not the I’m scared crying, but really, truly, grieving type of crying. And then the others did, too. All of them. They were all worried about their parents. I had to wander out of the room, into the kitchen, to keep from sobbing along with them.

“Becca, the phone is ringing. The phone works!” Tasha was shouting.

“What?” I stepped back into the living room. “I didn’t hear a phone.”

“No, I’m calling, but it’s working.”

“Who are you calling?”

“My parents.” After a couple of minutes she put the phone down. “It just keeps ringing. It doesn’t even go to voice mail.”

“Sorry, Tasha.”

“It’s okay. I’m not giving up hope.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Can I try my parents?” Amber asked.

She tried calling her parents, with no luck. Bridget called Dad’s cell phone, but he didn’t answer, either. I didn’t really expect it. We’ve seen a lot of destruction on the way here. People have torn so many things apart. We’re attacked and people freak out and destroy our own country. Brilliant.

While everyone else laid down to sleep, I found a radio and plugged headphones in and listened to the latest news on the only station I found that was broadcasting. Atlanta is gone. Not just people sick, but gone. The army bombed it to try to stop the spread of this disease.

The guy on the radio said over ninety eight percent of people catch it when exposed. People go crazy and lose all rational thought. Many wander aimlessly, some walk off into the water and just drown. Some attack others.

I guess there have been similar attacks on every continent except Antarctica. And between us and the Russians we’ve dropped nuclear bombs on half the major cities. Humanity is ending.

“Becca.” Tasha sat next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. “You okay?”

“Go back to sleep.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I’m fine. I have to keep watch.”

“You’re so tired you can hardly see. You’re going to screw up and shoot one of us if you don’t rest.”

“This is my responsibility.”

“Just show me how to use that thing. Just the basics. I’ll stay up.”

“You’re tired too.”

“Not as tired as you are.”

“Tasha,”

“Please just let me help.”

“Okay. Okay. You just sort of aim the whole thing toward what you want to shoot and pull the trigger. This is the safety. Leave it on until you think you might need it. Don’t point the barrel at yourself or anyone else unless you plan to shoot them.”

“Got it.”

“I can stay awake. You should just go to sleep.”

“Go to bed, Rebecca.”

“I... okay.”

“Goodnight.” She hugged me.

“I love you, Natasha.”

“Love you too.”

Except I’m in love with her. I don’t just love her like a friend, or like the sister she once said she felt like we were. All day long, with everything else on my mind, I have had thoughts of Tasha. I’m more worried about what happens to her parents than what happens to mine, which is screwed up. But if my parents die I’ll be horribly sad and feel awful. If her parents die, she’ll feel horribly sad and awful. I’d rather be the sad one.

Monday, April 11
^th
 

We’ve been doing our best by ourselves, but we’re getting more worried about our

parents. The radio stopped broadcasting. The last we heard, there were very few healthy people left. Anywhere. In the world. The last hour of broadcast was just a man reading prayers and saying that the end has come.

I took the others outside yesterday and showed them everything Dad showed me about using the gun. I took the other gun from the bag and we’ve made sure that two of us have one at all times now. I still think I’m going to be one of the ones standing guard each night. These people are my responsibility.

“You don’t like me at all?” Amber asked. We were alone, sitting on the hood of the car.

“What? I never said that. I just don’t know you.”

“You seem to not like me.”

“I guess I’m just in a bad mood. I’ve been sort of grouchy. Sorry if I’ve been mean or anything.”

“But you don’t like me?”

“You seem okay.” I said, shrugging.

“But you don’t like me like me.”

“Um, you’re a kid.” Thanks Bridget. Thanks for telling her I’d be interested.

“I’m almost as old as you.”

“You’re fourteen.”

“David’s right, you don’t have a lot of options. If you’re ever going to fall in love, I’m it.” she smiled.

“Sorry. I just don’t see that happening.” And that’s not it. I can be in love, I just can’t have someone love me back.

“I’m just saying you should be open to the possibility. Since we might very well be the last people on the planet.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

So what, everyone is gone, let’s give up on our families and just worry about who we have left to date now? Some people have messed up priorities. Though I guess I’m one to talk, right? I spend all my time wishing for someone I can’t have.

“I think you’re really pretty.” she said.

“Uh... thanks, I guess?”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just asking.”

“Amber, I’m sorry, this isn’t going to happen.”

“I heard you before. I’m just curious if you think I’m pretty.”

“Okay, this conversation has gotten way uncomfortable.”

“It’s a simple question. I won’t be offended if you don’t. Everyone has their own opinion.”

“Uh, um, sure I guess. You’re not bad looking, for a kid.”

“But nothing like Natasha?”

I didn’t know what to say to that. It’s like being called out for a lie you told. There’s no response that helps. This is bad. She says that, and she blows the whole mess up. But she can’t know how I feel, so maybe she just thinks Tasha is pretty?