What would you do in order to survive?

Mexico.

The journey has finally come to an end.

I can’t even make myself believe that we’ve actually made it without anyone else dying. Not that I want to jinx myself since we all know that me and Karma aren’t always on a good standing. But here we are. It took a two days of hard driving and shooting. Not just the dead, but the living also. Of course, I will always live with that fact of attacking the living. But it was in self defense. And I have to hang onto that, or I swear I will lose it. Yet, I’ve not been able to fully understand why. Why would someone get so desperate? Carla told me that was something that no one would ever get their head around it.

I can still hear… No. I can feel the words and their meaning pounding in my soul. The kind of words and the look in her eyes… you just knew she mean business.

"No one cares who you were or what kind of life you had before all this. It just adds up to a big pile of nothing. But you want to know what really matters? Keeping your friend safe. Keeping the group safe at all costs, no matter what. That is the most important thing. If someone comes at you, you make sure they are met with extreme violence."

She had cornered me the other night after fending off a truck load of suicidal idiots that had decided we were an easy and weak target. Too bad for them is all I can say.

But I had to let it go. It was passed time that I dwelled on things like this. Onward and upward. And all that other crap, right?

Move along, move along. Ha. Me thinks Carla’s nerdiness is wearing off on me. Oh well. Where was I? Moving on, I think. Yes… moving on. I silently count the sleeping bodies with comfort and finish what I want to say before shutting off the laptop. I skim over the last paragraph.

The so called outpost wasn’t what I had expected. Signs of its previous owners had been left all over. A few dead bodies here. Dried blood smears there. An ugly black mark against the wall. But no sign of my father or uncle. Which only leads me to believe they never made it or… I can only pray that if they were here, they were able to escape. It’s hard for me to determine how long it’s been, but Carla thinks at least several months at least. This is definitely something I want to bring up and see what can be done, if anything, to find them.

Everyone has worked really hard this last two weeks. Above and beyond in my book at least. And them some. We’re close to finishing up and it will be good to finally relax some. Without letting our guard down, of course. There’s still a lot at risk.

My fingers hover over the keypad, patiently waiting for my brain to kick in. But all I can draw is a blank. I’ve pretty much poured my heart into what I’ve written so far and I feel as if I am empty now. Not much of “me” is left inside. And that scares me. I’ve tried to hang on to bits and pieces- grabbing at thin strings of what I hope is left of my soul. But I’m not sure and I wouldn’t place any bets at this crossroads. And yet… I have to hang on to what’s left cause it’s not just for me anymore.

There’s something I have to write… just got to get my brain to make my hands move. With a deep breath, I start touching the keypad. Knowing it won’t be easy….

My name is Sarah Eichman, and I am twenty-six years old. For the record this is my last will and testament to document the things I’ve seen and done over these last few months. Not that anyone will see this, but it’s my hope that one day… one day soon someone will see this and understand the choices I had to make.

　

　

It only takes a moment to write what I have to say. Satisfied, I turn it off and slide the laptop under our bed before crawling in next to Liam. He stirs and turns over.

“You’re not going to poke with that, are you?”

I move into his arms, mindful of my enlarged belly. “Well, I wouldn’t have this if you hadn’t poked me with… something else.”

“I never heard any complaints.” Liam replied.

“You’re funny.”

Liam had his hand on my stomach. “Looks like Abby is wide awake.”

I could feel her kicking me. “So much for sleeping.”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

We both slid out of the room quietly and moved across the two story home’s foyer, carefully moving between the make-shift beds until we were outside. The night air was cool, and as we made our way across the make-shift dirt wall, I found myself clinging to Liam. Mostly to stay warm, but mostly for the comfort of having him next to me. Not that it was a chick-flick moment, cause I can tell you that we both relied on each other. But I won’t lie and say that it was comforting to know. I just wished I knew what that nagging feeling in the dark recesses of my mind was. Irritating to say the least.

“I love you.” I finally said, pulling him close.

“I love you as well.”

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

My name is Abby McCullum and I am seventeen. And… and… I miss my mother. I miss seeing her. I miss everything about her. The smile that would greet me every morning, regardless of how much the world was screwed up. The look she would give me when I did something stupid. And her fiery determination to helping keep all of us safe. From the window I can see the marker to her grave. The one place that I visit every day. I can still see her in my dreams. But it still doesn’t feel like ten years. Dad tells me that I look like her. Even Aunt Carla and Aunt Alisha tell me this. They surround me with love and support each and every day. But even that isn’t enough.

Yet… I manage. Another thing my dad says that I picked up from my mom. Aunt Carla said I had her stubborn streak. Which I totally agree with. I finally got around to reading mom’s journal, even if dad didn’t think I was ready. At first I thought it was me being stubborn. Going against the grain. But the more I read, the more I understood. Not just what dad had gone through… but what everyone had to endure.

“How many souls do we have?”

I looked up as dad entered the room. He looked tired. Older.

“One hundred.” I replied, closing the laptop and eyeing a very pregnant and sleeping Aunt Carla. “One more to add in a few weeks.”

Dad nodded and propped his gun against the table. “How are you holding up?”
He was looking at the computer and I could tell right off the bat.

“I’m dealing with it as best I can.” I said, wanting to add that it wasn’t easy. There had been a lot my mom had gone through. More than anyone I had known so far. “But… I’m glad that I am reading this. It helps.”

He smiled and gave me a quick hug. “If there’s anything-”
“I know where to find you.”

I waited until he was gone before opening the laptop again. Knowing that the rest of what she had written wouldn’t be pretty. But I had to do this. I had to have everything that would help me remember. Regardless of it was good or bad- it connected me to her. It set her spirit free and it comforted me knowing that I would never forget her.

I finally got up and went to the window. Our group had grown, spreading out over several acres that was less than a mile from the Pacific ocean. I had seen it once. About a year or so after mom died. The smells, cold water and the feel of sand between my toes. We had only stayed an hour, but that brief moment still haunted me. One more thing to add to my list.

I focused on our walls of earth and metal. An armed person was at their posts, keeping watch. It had been ten days since we had seen anything living or dead. But I had a gut feeling that would change sooner or later. And no matter what happened, I knew things would be okay. Our story wasn’t over. Not quite yet.

　

　

Without a second thought, I went back to the table and typed out five simple words. It would be the start of my story now that would continue where my mom had left off. A tribute not just to her, but to what was left of the human race.

　

　

　

This is for you, mom.

　

　

　

　

　

　

　　　　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

What would you do in order to survive?

Pages

UPDATE

Chapter Twentytwo: Finis