Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
No idea how to think or feel about that. Perhaps trepidation for starters, with bewilderment coming up fast.
“What’s your name?” he asks. “Are you on your own?”
The little girl allows him to mop up her face. She blows her nose robustly and downs some water. “Sophie. Everybody died.”
“My name’s Dean, and this is Astrid,” he says. “Did you get sick?”
Sophie shakes her head. “Mom did. She locked herself in her bedroom. Told me to stay in the house until the food ran out. Not to let anyone in or talk to them. Just watch my shows or read my books. And I stayed until yesterday. But then the power went out and I got scared.”
“I would have been scared too,” I say in solidarity. “How old are you, Sophie?”
“Nine.”
“Wow. You’ve been so brave.”
Dean nods in agreement. “We’re going to need a new plan,” he says to me.
And yes, we sure do. But that’s how, on the second day of the apocalypse, we become parents.
Neither of us were keen to go from house to house checking on occupancy. And staying in the drugstore seemed too much of a lure for anyone who might be passing and searching for oxy or something. No idea exactly how many were killed by the virus and such. But we’ve crossed paths with enough people to be cautious.
The home goods store down the block seemed like a good idea for the night. It had a fancy front window display shielding the rest of the shop from view. We only use a couple of small travel lanterns on low setting. And a blanket hangs over the front door to stop any hint of light from escaping.
The town stays quiet as darkness falls. Though howling dogs can be heard an hour or two after. What’s happened to all of the pets is a sad thought. But fewer humans will in all likelihood be a boon to the rest of the wildlife. It might not be long before whitetail deer and coyotes and who knows what else are common in the streets. More common than people, at least. Weeds and wildflowers will grow through the cracks in the roads and all of our great works will slowly be undone.
I wonder if we’re going to live long enough to see it.
Sophie and I are sleeping on the demonstration bed made up with crisp striped linen sheets and fluffy matching coverlets with frilly pillows. Dean will make himself at home on one of a pair of cushioned cane sun lounges. I offered to let him have the bed due to the gunshot wound and all. But he declined.
“You won’t leave?” Sophie repeats in her soft, tired voice.
“We won’t leave.” Dean sits beside the bed on a rustic wooden stool. It’s actually quite a nice item. But seven hundred dollars for a stool is ridiculous. This place must have had some wealthy weekend visitors to be moving such luxe stock. Don’t even get me started on the cost of the French bed linens or the etched glassware. All of it beautiful. The owners, were they still alive, would’ve definitely looked down their noses at me and my meager budget.
“Promise?” asks Sophie.
“We aren’t going anywhere without you. It’s okay to close your eyes and go to sleep. When you wake up in the morning, we’ll both be right here.”
Sophie yawns. “I don’t need to sleep.”
“Okay.”
“The bad guys that hit Astrid and shot you aren’t going to find us?”
“No. We will never see them again. They can’t hurt anyone else either.”
She thinks this over for a while. “What are we going to do tomorrow?”
“Don’t know yet,” he answers in this low, calm voice. “We can figure it out later. After we’ve all had some sleep.”
“I’m still not tired,” she says around another yawn.
“Okay.”
I watch from my position on one of the sun lounges. The thermometer in my hand beeps and Dean turns my way. My small smile is answered with a nod from him. Still no sign of a fever and my nasal passages are blessedly free. Sophie has been much the same, though she’s done some coughing. Her throat seems irritated, so there’s no way to be sure. We’re not out of the woods. Not yet.
However, I wouldn’t be surprised if she screamed herself hoarse shouting for her mother at the locked bedroom door she told us about.
We gave her throat lozenges from the drugstore. Which were what she’d been there to find. The cough didn’t get any worse and no other symptoms seem to have developed. She devoured a packet of the freeze-dried mac and cheese and a packet of freeze-dried ice cream. Weird bunker backpacking food is a win with the child.
We gathered antibiotics and a variety of pain meds from the drugstore. Along with cough medicine and antihistamines and things to see us through the virus if we have it. Wet wipes, multivitamins, and a restock on some items for our first-aid kits were on the shopping list too. Now we wait to see if we’re going to die or not. Still waiting.