Meagan Bryant

Highlanders

The Highlanders. Three years ago, that’s what we called ourselves in the Highlands of North Carolina. It was a joke then. My family, friends, and the community would always say, “Keep your heads high. Live off the land.” That we did. We were a proud community built in the mountains. A small town where everyone new everyone. My dad worked in the mines. My mom stayed home to work on the farm as we did when my brother and I came home from school. My mom would already be out by the stables or the chicken coop when we got off the school bus. She’d wave and call, “Anna, Blaine, grab a snack and get out here! You can do your homework later!” That was my life and I didn’t mind one bit. I loved the outdoors and the animals. I loved growing up hunting, fishing and tending to our garden. There was freedom up here for us Highlanders. Now, two years later, our lives will never be the same. I didn’t know much about diseases or war then. Hell, I was just trying to get through senior year of high school. When I graduated, my mom gave me a locket. It was her mother’s, who passed it down to her. It was silver and the locket rim was gold. An antique now but stylish enough I didn’t take it off. Also because of what it meant and what was inside. Family Always was engraved on the back. Inside was a picture of her and dad and on the other side my brother Blaine. She said, “One day, your father and I might not be here anymore. We’re getting older and time is speeding up now. I want you and your brother to look out for each other and know your father and I love you both more than anything in this world.” Not long after, a deadly virus spread across the globe. Scientists said at the time it was a new strain of rabies. That they were trying to find a vaccine to control it but they were sadly too late. Humans and animals alike changed into a prehistoric form. The cities went first. Later, the government, news stations, and hospitals shut down. It was uncatanable. Luckily for us, being in the country, high in the mountains, we’ve only experienced minimal attacks. If they’re not Loners, a rabid human traveling alone, the infected travel together in what we call “packs”. However, battles have been fought down in the valleys, along the lower mountains, and soon might reach the Highlands. A bullet to the head stops them. A bite from them stops you. Now I open this locket and think, ‘Time did speed up.’ I wonder, silently, how much longer we have. The Highlanders has a new meaning now. A meaning of protection and survival. Jobs have changed. My dad doesn’t mine anymore. He patrols the winding roads, locked and loaded with a few other men from our community. Blaine, who didn’t finish junior high, and my mom work in the community garden now and help take inventory of supplies. I, like others my age had to turn into adults fast and now patrol the farmsteads. As a take a sweep around our farms perimeter, rifle in hand, I’m thankful my dad showed me how to use it when I was barely out of diapers. All my life, it’s been easy to kill an animal when you know it’s going to feed your family. When you’re the predator and it’s the prey. Now, we’re the prey being hunted. I hope it’s just as easy if I have to kill a Loner, a human, to protect my family. After all, I am a Highlander.