Day 24

I wake up next to my wife. My kids are in the tent with us. I am holding Connor tightly under the thick blankets. He is still asleep and this surprises me. Back before this happened he was usually the first up, jumping into bed with my wife and I, trying to get us up. I start to move and my wifes eyes flicker open. She is holding Seeley, and smiles at me.

The night before I told her everything. How I had come to find her here, among these monstrous trees. I did not, however, tell her about Crystal. I could not. I feel like that would be too much. At least for now. I will tell her when I am ready.

Mornings are slow in camp. It is cold and most do not get up for some time after the sun has risen. I am in no hurry to get up. I am content staying in this tent for as long as I can. Away from the world out side, I can pretend that we are at on of her family reunions, camping in the Utah Uintas. The cold makes my leg ache. I move and try to get comfortable but don't want to wake Connor from his sleep. Dawn looks at me seriously this time.

"Do you have a plan?" she says. I am not sure what she means. "Are we staying here? Or . . ." I can tell there is something on her mind. Something that has probably been on her mind for some time. I look at her and I know what she wants to do.

"We can leave," I say, "back to Utah . . ."

"I haven't heard from my family since that first day. The day my flight got canceled."

"I understand. I'd like to get back with my parents too."

"We don't need to leave yet. We can wait for your leg to heal if you'd like, but I think we should soon."

I don't say anything. I am worried about our children. Here they are safe. There is community with nearly twenty or twenty five people that are in the camp. Leaving means getting exposed to that world again. What if I am slower because of my leg and can't save them when we are attacked. People aren't just dying, they are turning into these things, and quickly. For every person killed by these things, or seemingly anyone who is dies is infected and is alive again. There could be billions of them and I don't know if I can expose my children to that. Here, we are safe.

We lay there for some time longer before I ask her how she got here, with these people, and how it all happened here.

"We didn't see any signs of infection from the time you last called up to about two weeks. The neighbors acted normal, and we did too. We'd stay in side mostly, just because it was so cold. Cold and wet are not a great combination. Your grandparents went into town one day. Only a few miles away, but returned with bad news. There was very little people left. They never even got out of the truck. Just saw the infected people and turned around.

"I actually think they must have followed them because later that evening there were several wandering around the street. It really freaked out Connor. I think he could tell there was something wrong with them. I stayed up all night, that night. Holding the boys. Your grandparents loaded up the truck through the night so we'd be ready to leave at a moments notice. In the morning there was probably fifteen of them wandering around. I don't think they remember houses because they never tried to enter one. That is until one of the neighbors walked out.

"I don't know why they went out, but they were attacked. I watched it. It was like . . . I couldn't turn away. I saw Connor move out of the corner of my eye and noticed that he had been watching. I think it put him in a kinda shock because he just walked away like nothing had happened. I tried holding him and hugging him but he would just push me away. You know, like he does when he'd really just want to play or something. The next morning, after getting little or no sleep once again we left. More and more were coming, almost as if they migrate. They'd come in bigger and bigger groups. Some would start going in houses and just . . . it was horrible to hear the sounds.

"We left with some of your grandpa's friends and their family as well as a few of the neighbors. We were a caravan of refugee's, moving south." She stops here and looks towards the door of the tent. Towards the people she ran away with.

"The second day here there was an attack. Me and the boys stayed in the tent with this." She reaches behind her and a reveals a small pistol. "I never saw what exactly happened but two people died. Several of the men, including your Grandpa took the two far into the woods and shot both of them. I think it really affected your Grandpa," she said, looking at the weapon. "No one should have to do that."

I thought about what I had to do with Crystal. And almost as if she knew I had thought about it she asked me that very question. I told her what had happened while we left and had tried to get my supplies I'd brought from Utah. I told her and she cried. Cried for Crystal and Clive and for what I was forced--by necessity--to do.

* * *

The camp was receptive to our coming and joining their ranks. Even more excited for the supplies we'd brought with us. The rations as well as weaponry. Many around the camp wore face masks. The medical kind covering the mouth and nose, but not all did. Dawn and the boys didn't. I made a mental note that when we left to grab a few for my family.

Josh, Charlotte and Chad go back to the Hummer and very slowly drive it into camp, or at least within a few hundred feet. They unload it, save for a few weapons and rations and distribute it around the camp.

Both of my grandparents are feeling sick, but I suspect it is more from old age than anything else. I visit with them and tell them, like what most people want to know, my survival story. It seems as though that how we came to be the some of the last humans is the most important thing to share. In a way it defines who we are. How we, when there are so many infected, avoided it. I do not mention that I suspect that I, along with my brothers, and possibly my children (at least one of them) are immune to this virus, or whatever type of infection it is. I probably wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for an obvious immunity. In not telling them, I also have to make up a reason why I am limping. I decide to simply say it's broken. However, no one asks. I think most are use to it by now.

I don't tell anyone about Dawns desire to find her family. I want to confide in Josh and Chad, maybe even Charlotte, but I want to wait. I want them to enjoy this sense of security. For at lease a little while.

When the sun sets they light a nice bright and warm fire and sing songs. A young man named Laith pulls out a guitar and begins playing an upbeat and fast song. People clap and stomp along. Me included, and then finished with Somewhere Over the Rainbow. He sang the original composition and it was refreshing. It was nice to hear music and laughing after so long a journey with so little joy in it.