Day 19

There is food here. Lots of it. Dried fruits and sealed water. MRE's and jerky as well as crackers and beans and rice, (among many other things). We are all worn out, tired physically and emotionally and decide to stay here for a few days until we recuperate. There is no power, but we find several flashlights and candles that we place around the portions of the building we'll be inhabiting.

There is also several Hummers in a parking garage to the side of the building and each has a full tank of gas. We load one of them up with weapons and food and some clothing and blankets, leaving it there in case we need to leave quickly.

I take two naps and by the evening I feel well rested. Much more so than I had the day before. By candle light we each sit, I with my machete and a wet sharpening stone, the others simply sitting, thinking, most likely about this world we now live in.

"So," Josh says, looking up at me, "you think it's genetics?"

I don't answer at first but sit and think. I had studied biotechnology in school, in another life, and had dealt a lot in genetics. I knew there were several ways that we could be immune, but a specific genetic trait seemed most likely.

"Yeah, I think that explains best why we're not infected. I mean," I pause, trying to get the right words. "If mom or dad had a homozygous gene that had, at some time, mutated to give us an immunity to the disease, all of us would have at least a heterozygous gene, giving us this immunity. And so, when we are infected it has no effect on us, or our body has an antibody that can fight the infection. Like, maybe the gene produces an antibody that goes against whatever antigen this zombie infection has. At least if it's bacterial."

"But we don't know what it is . . ." Chad says, still thinking about the immunity.

"No. I am only guessing. I have not doubt I'm probably far off base, but one thing is clear, we are immune to the infection."

"And that is why," Josh starts, glancing over at Chad, "Clive never got back up like Jess and the others did? He got the dominant trait?"

"I think so. Really, I can't think of any other reason."

* * *

We decide to leave the following day. Before we turn in we add more things into our supply we'd be taking in the hummer. More ammo, and more food. We place our weapons in the vehicle (save my machete, Chad's sword and a long knife Josh was able to find) and, having some anxiety for the following day each slowly drift to sleep.

I can't sleep. Another dream of that man I shot in the head. Crystal and Clive were there. Dead, but living. I kept seeing Ray's face as I shot him, like he wanted nothing more than to die. And then Jacob. I heard, in my dream, his pounding on the door. It lingered, even after my dreams, like something that needed to get out. Something that I needed to do, or to say, or something. It was painful.

Eventually I lay back down and try not to think. It is hard, but finally, after several long minutes my eyes droop and I close them, allowing sleep to take over.