3:30

Sixteen going into seventeen on rails.

That’s the number of years you’ve found yourself trapped here. And it would be the seventeenth year being here in three days. You would call it home, but it feels almost like a constantly changing prison with a new backyard to clean and replant the food every year. You’ve drawn the passage of time akin to rails since then. It almost feels ritualistic, at this point. As you head downstairs though, the feeling of having done something for a collective whole dissipates as quickly as the people did. You recall memories of the past as you go down to feed your wife.

At first, it was just a very small-scale pandemic. Everyone was inside, of course, with few, if not none daring to go out and see if things were still okay, as scientists announced the near completion of what they called “The ultimate cure.” You recall some saying that this would elevate humanity to be above nature. How it would make the wildlife no longer a threat, and that no one would ever be sick again. How life would change forever, with the new robotics within the blood.

How right they were, yet so horribly wrong in that nature still had its last laugh.

You make the pancake batter again. You’ve spent many of the early years mastering the recipe. When you finish, and start heating the batter in a skillet on the stove, you note that your supplies are low. You spare a moment to finally make way to your spouse, taking that same riot shield and gas mask you’ve been using for years now since the “cure” spread across the country. As you open the door, she openly glares at you with those dead, black eyes, her skin still bumpy and sore. You smile and give a curt wave. “Heya Frea.”

She gives an exhausted, feral growl, as she struggles against her bindings, the iron cuffs struggling against the bed’s wooden edges. You frown as you feed her the usual pancakes, trying to maintain face even as you watch her sore, melting body writhe as she mindlessly eats. You retain hope, however. “Supplies are low again. I’ll have to head to the store today.” You then show her the heart locket, opening it up to reveal the picture of yourselves before the war. “I’ve fixed this up for you. Do you remember what it is?” You say as you wrap it around her neck. She groans and froths, but the body still doesn’t give her the strength she needs. The locket remains.

Just one day, maybe. Just one day she can talk back. Who’s to say she can’t turn back to normal? There’s a first for everything.

Right?

…

You say goodbye to Frea as you head out the front door, taking nothing but a bag with you so you can gather resources, and a gas mask to brave the weather. You walk down the path to town as you put the mask on, mindful of the rust-veined plants, smoldering trees, and dead that littered the ground. You give an energetic “Hello Dave!” to Dave, who is still on the ground, dead. You make your way to the store, passing a tent on the way that you don’t recall seeing before, but think nothing of it. The street is littered with bodies, but the nice thing at this point was that most of them had rotted away, unable to move at the least. This leaves you with the time you need to get some food from some convenience stores, houses and supermarkets, make dinner.

You give Frea her usual cold bath so she can cool off, and keep her body intact. She otherwise motionless, so you end up having to do all the work again. You’re mindful to wear protection, so that the nanites don’t get into you. You rest knowing that her body is clean and intact again.

You wake up in the night in your own bed. She’s rather noisy again, so you go down to check. She doesn’t talk, as she usually does, just makes noise. You get the sense, however, that someone is outside. Probably the people from the tent?

“Is there someone outside? Let me go look.” You say as you part again. You don’t bother coming out armed. There hasn’t been anyone to infect in decades, so why should it be alive now? Although you know there shouldn’t be anyone alive, you tense in preparation to run back inside if necessary.

You decide to patrol around the edge of your house, wearing the mask. As you round a corner, you see someone staring into your window. You hide around the edge, watching them closely as you think of what to do. Who is this person? Why have they come all the way out to here, to the outbreak of the infection? Isn’t it usually a better idea to run all the way across the world?

Far too wrapped in your thoughts, all you were able to do is react to the person turning around and facing you, yelping as she jumps back a few feet. “Ah! You scared me!”

You put your hands up in the air. “I’m not coded.”

“Neither am I.”

An awkward pause settles between the two of you. You both take the time to observe each other’s form. The stranger wears a brown leather parka with a white t-shirt underneath, wearing blue pants that cover her legs. Doesn’t seem like the type to cause trouble, not like that matters much anymore. She, however, doesn’t regard you equally so with her brown, amber-like eyes. But at least she’s not immediately putting her hand on the holster of the iron at her hip.

“So… you mind if I come in?”

You nod. The both of you walk in. She walks ahead a bit, slightly astonished.

“Hey, this place ain’t half-bad for someone surviving out here alone!”

“I’m not alone.”

“Oh?”

Instead of responding, you decide to actually take a look around the house a bit. You never really thought about it until now, but with how clean the place is, you surprised yourself at how consistent you’ve been. The tables and chairs the two of you used to eat on are still clean as ever, not a speck of dust or grime on them. The clock is also clean, with all its arms intact, even though it is still. You note to replace them with the other set of rechargeable batteries, as you also note that the bookshelves still need some cleaning, though. And the bedroom-

You pause. Have you been making the sheets on your bed, or have you been ignoring that again?

“Hey so, is this really your house?”

“It is. I mean, it’s not like the owner is- uhm…” You take a second. “You just- got me to actually notice the work I’ve put into it.”

She laughs. “I’m Ashe. Who are you?”

You’re about to tell her your name, when Frea begins to make some noise. “Ah. Frea wants to meet you.”

“Frea?”

You walk over to Frea, hoping Ashe follows. When she eventually does, her eyes go wide.

“What the- why are you keeping an infected? Don’t you know how dangerous they-”

“She is not an it, and she is not part of them.” You sternly correct. She seems to get the message, and quiets down, although she keeps her distance from both you and Frea. You don’t mind. It’s not like Frea actually wants that, it’d not even be the last thing, in fact. Frea just wants everyone to be happy again.

“So how long has i- I mean she; been here?”

“Since the start of the outbreak. She’s been struggling, but she’s still intact.”

“I see.”

You turn to look at her. “So why are you here?”

“Came here to avoid the rest of the mess in the world. I thought I wouldn’t see anything infected after all this, or at least any moving infected.” Ashe said as she looks at Frea. “I guess I was wrong about that. The plants are still screwed up around here.”

You both stare for a bit in silence.

“So what did you come here for?”

“Supplies. And maybe a place to stay.” She keeps her stare on Frea. “But…”

You shake your head. “Not anytime soon.”

“I get it. You’ve gone too far into this, is what you think. But you’re only going to get the same-”

“No.”

She sighs. “There’s no way I can change your mind?”

You look her dead in the eyes. “I was here, y’know? The whole time. I watched as my friends and family were ripped to shreds. I watched as people fell in and out of the infection as the civil war went on, raising that hellish cloud of death and corruption. I watched as she got hurt in my defense.” You then look back to Frea. “She’s still alive. She has a pulse, you can hear it yourself if you want. And god as my witness, I will do whatever it takes to get her cured. Sure, I may not be doing much… but it’s still something, right?”

Ashe is silent for a moment, as she looks off to the side in thought. “I see…” She then looks back over. “Well, I’d wish you luck in your quest, but I’d think the stars would have to align for you to finish it. Only somebody who knows the code should be able to help, but they’re probably long gone, or off being a tyrant somewhere else.”

You nod. You both go back to have some food, a parting dinner before the two of you go. When she finishes, she gets up without a word. “Be seeing you?”

You smile. “Do come by and visit. I know she’s a bit ill… but she likes visitors. She always has.”

She smiles, turning around and going back into the wilderness as she says over her shoulder. “I sure will.”

You sit down with Frea on the couch. She’s still bound, but that doesn’t stop you from playing footage from 2020’s firework show on July 4th in California, and enjoying it on New Year’s Day. It was the biggest firework show you two had the pleasure of seeing. In person, that is. You had plenty of time to see the biggest one ever before the internet went out. You wish you could hear and see them in person again.

“Ain’t it pretty, Frea?” You ask as you turn to look at Frea. She’s drooling a bit this time. You wipe it off as you turn back to the TV.

You wish you could see her again. Not like this twisted monstrosity brought on by some madman’s attempt to overthrow nature. But as her. The one that made you smile. The one that made you laugh. The one that stood by your side.

But everything’s just been wishful thinking.

You feel a breeze on the back of your neck. You look around to see the door left open. Standing up, you move to close it, checking to see if there was anything that could’ve stopped it. You see that something of Ashe’s had been left behind. Some kind of comic book of a sort. You bend down to pick it up, making a mental note to give it back. You begin to reach for the knob as you straighten.

A click of a hammer.

You only have a second to look at the barrel of the gun aimed at you, until you hear a deafening bang. You fall to the side and hit a nightstand, and your vision blurs as you see a small group of individuals move over you, making way to the couch. You lay paralyzed, unable to discern what’s going on. You hope Ashe is okay, and away from these bandits that have come ot your home.

Ashe…

…

You smile as everything begins to darken. Seems like you’ll be getting your wish, as twisted as it is. You don’t blame her. It’s all for survival nowadays.

And it’s not like the dead can speak for themselves once they’re gone.