Jherica

Jherica walked along the Interstate Bridge alone; the sound of broken glass crunching beneath her steel toed boots echoing across the water, a gas mask on her face, and a Glock 17 pistol strapped to her hip. Every vehicle around her had their windows smashed and contents stolen ages ago. Graffiti covered the bridge- some childish, inappropriate words scrawled along the cars, while the words “THE PLANET IS DEAD” were repeated across the concrete. None of this bothered Jherica anymore. This is not the first time she crossed this bridge, and if everything goes as planned, it won’t be the last.

The Columbia River ran quietly below her, dotted with the bodies of people who jumped and will never be recovered.

The first time she saw them, she was sick. She wretched in the middle of the road, trying not to look at the corpses below. Now, the sight of them is normal. Some of the bodies that have washed ashore have been there since before Jherica made it out of the bunker, some since the beginning of the outbreak. They were mostly just skeletons lodged in the sand, with gleaming white bones bleached to perfection by the ever-persistent sun.

As she walked, she carefully scanned the water for fresh bodies. There was only one today, and it had already drifted toward shore. She finished her walk across the bridge and worked her way down to the shoreline. The body was floating in about 3 feet of water, which made it easy for Jherica to retrieve.

She shimmies her pack off her shoulders and searches it for the one item her mother gave her before she died- a silver locket in the shape of a heart. She pops it open and compares the photo within to the corpse she just recovered.

A deep sigh escapes her lips.

“Not him,” she mutters to herself, and closes the locket, placing it back inside her bag.

She had been out of the bunker for eight and a half years now, with not much else on her mind other than finding her father. He had left Jherica and her mother alone there for months, claiming he was going to find help for them. He used to radio in often, but the channel had gone dead just 2 months before Jherica and her mother ran out of food. Her mom told her he was fine, and that his radio had just died.

Jherica never gave up hope for her father, especially now that the outbreak claimed her mother. They had been out searching for food, and Jherica tripped over a corpse. Her impact with the ground broke her gas mask, and her mother gave up her own mask so her daughter wouldn’t get sick. The outbreak was airborne and caused total brain failure over time, ending in seizure like episodes that sometimes last hours, until the host dies. The pain and elongated suffering the outbreak was causing led to large numbers of mass suicide and murders, in order for people to avoid the prolonged, insufferable pain. Jherica watched as her mother lost all ability to walk, eat, and speak, until she eventually began convulsing violently. Jherica left her there, unable to watch her die, but also unable to end her suffering herself.

And now, three months later, she was alone.

Jherica was desperate to find her father. He wouldn’t know who she was, but she hoped that having her mother’s locket would be enough to prove her identity- if he was still alive. She had searched most of the states of Washington and Oregon for him, but there was no trace of him there for years. The last person who thought they had seen him said he was heading for Wyoming, so that was where she was headed.

She whispered, “why Wyoming?”

The empty air provided no answer for her.

She trudged along the all too familiar roads of Portland, a city she loathed. Her mother always told her she would have loved it before the outbreak, but she hated that thought. Jherica had not known the world before this unnamed outbreak began, so for all she cared, this is the way Portland always was. Decrepit, ruined, unsalvageable, full of misery. She didn’t want to stay here any longer than she had to, so she began running. Before she knew it, she was at the south-east edge of the city.

“Perfect,” she said, then spat on the ground in front of her. “If I’m lucky, it’ll only take me 10 days to get to Jackson.”

She wanted to save time, so she avoided as many highways as she could, cutting through fields instead. She had stolen a map and compass from a store back in Vancouver, so she was able to estimate the most direct path to Jackson.

“Can’t waste any time,” she mumbled, “dad might already be gone but I don’t want to miss him if he’s not.”

Hours turned to days as she travelled through Oregon and Idaho, stopping only to sleep for short periods. Blisters tried to form on the backs of her heels, but her feet were so calloused it was nearly impossible. They still bled, but she didn’t care, she was only two days from Jackson now.

In eight days of walking, she only came across four people. She showed them her locket, hoping for a clue of any kind that might lead her to her father, but no one had seen him.

One of the men she encountered gave her a strange look. “You know Wyoming was hardly populated to begin with, right? You aren’t going to find him there, kid. I promise. Everyone there is dead.”

Jherica tried her best to brush the man’s words off, walking away from him as tears welled in her eyes. She was only 14 years old, finding her father was the only hope she had; she wasn’t about to let a stranger tell her to give up. She wiped away her tears only after she was certain the man could no longer see her, then broke into a full sprint. She was determined to find him at all costs.

“I need my parents. I’m just a kid, I need my parents.”

By the end of the day, Jherica was in Idaho Falls. She walked along Snake River until she spotted a nearby Walmart and decided to set up camp for the night. She could make it to Jackson by the day after tomorrow. The Walmart was completely ransacked, but it had a ceiling and a space for her to hide for the night. She found an alarm clock, and to her surprise, a single pack of AA batteries. She set her alarm for 4AM and drifted off for the night.

The sound of an alarm clock in the morning was jarring and unusual, but Jherica welcomed it. She stuffed the clock and the batteries she found into her bag and began looking around the Walmart. She found an incredibly rusted bicycle, which was otherwise in decent shape. It would get her to Jackson faster, so she took it.

Peddling as hard and fast as she could, Jherica made her way out of Idaho Falls and was back on her route to Wyoming. Thanks to her bicycle, she made it to the border before noon, and to the outskirts of Jackson before the sun had started to set. She found a small store that had several maps of the city and examined them for any landmarks. Not knowing where to start, Jherica headed for Miller Park, just for somewhere peaceful to rest.

She walked her bicycle to the park and noticed a small child on a swing set. He was alone, and couldn’t have been much older than six or seven. Jherica cautiously approached him and said hello. The child stared at her through his gas mask, without saying a word back.

“Can you understand me?” Jherica probed, to which the child responded with a slow nod. “Okay. I’m looking for someone. I have a photo; can I show you?”

The child sat up straighter and cocked his head, moving slightly closer to Jherica. She riffled through her bag and found her mother’s locket, then showed the photo of her father to the child. He suddenly burst into life, full of glee.

“That’s my daddy!” exclaimed the child, to Jherica’s surprise.

“Your daddy…? I’ve been looking for him. Can you take me to him?”

The child nodded, and grabbed Jherica by the hand. He ran a few blocks with her until they came up to a dimly lit house. The boy opened the door, motioning for Jherica to follow.

“Daddy! Daddy, I found a person and she wants to see you,” shouted the child. A tall man wearing a dust mask, shorts and a muscle shirt came down the stairs, and smiled at Jherica, then stopped immediately upon seeing the locket in her hand. Jherica felt a catch in her throat, as she realized the man in front of her was indeed her father. He had long hair now, and looked rougher, but it was him. His eyes were the same eyes she knew as a child.

“Go upstairs,” he said to the child, who obeyed.

Before Jherica could even say a word, her father was pushing her toward the door.

“You need to leave, now.”

Jherica spun around in disbelief.

“Dad! Dad it’s me, its Jherica! Why do I need to leave? I only just found you. Mom is-“

He cut her off there. “I don’t care. You need to leave. Go back to Vancouver, or wherever your mother ended up with you. I have a new family here, and we can’t afford to feed another mouth. I’m sorry Jherica. Tell your mother goodbye for me.”

Jherica stood in shock as she watched her father close the door on her, and lock it behind him. She had come all this way, and found him… for nothing. She walked back to Miller Park, and it wasn’t until she made it back to her bicycle that it sank in; he didn’t care about her anymore. All this time she spent looking for him was wasted. She had nothing left, if he didn’t want her.

She started her journey back to Vancouver. She had food there and a decent shelter, but her mind was occupied only with thoughts of her parents. One, dead months ago, the other alive, but didn’t want her. She cried for most of her walk, as she felt like there was nothing else she could do to satisfy the emptiness she now felt within herself. The locket stayed around her neck the entire time, serving only as a reminder of what happened in Jackson.

Jherica eventually arrived back at the Interstate Bridge. She stopped to lean on a car and cry, but she no longer had the energy to do so. She looked down at her mother’s locket and was overcome with sorrow.

“Mom, I need you. I need you and I miss you. I can’t do this on my own,” she whimpered to the locket.

She looked out at the river expanding below her and lost herself watching the current carry corpses. Corpses that will never be recovered.

Corpses that were at peace.

“Mom…”

Jherica stepped over the guard rail of the bridge, sliding her bag off of her shoulders and onto the concrete.

“I’m coming, mom.”

And she jumped.