After the Ending (3 page)

And I watched him
die as an old man.

All of my future hopes faded away as, in my mind, his
aged, lifeless body transformed into the Cam growing cold beneath me. Young
Cam.
My Cam.

He’s dead.

Slowly, I became aware of Jack whining and tugging on my
pajama pants. I felt like a sleepwalker as he led me off the bed and out of the
room. I didn’t look back at Cam’s body as I shut the door.

He’s dead.

Jack nudged, pushed, and tugged me into the living room
where he stared at me with pleading black eyes, willing me to do something.

I collapsed onto the couch with arms and legs sprawled
haphazardly. I gladly would’ve passed out except that something was jabbing
into my thigh. As I moved the offending lump, I realized it was my laptop.

I needed to talk to someone. But I couldn’t go back into
the bedroom to get my phone. Cam’s body was in there.
Definitely not. Can’t.

I also couldn’t just stay on the couch and die, however
appealing giving up sounded. Staring at the computer on my lap, I decided I
could handle emailing Zoe, drinking a glass of water, falling asleep on the
couch…and, depending on my luck, maybe dying.

I trudged into the kitchen with Jack close behind. The
water burned like whiskey at first but transformed into liquid heaven after the
fifth sip. I had to remind myself not to drink too quickly.

I set my refilled glass on the counter before dragging a
giant bag of dog food from the pantry. Too weak to pick it up, I tore it open
and let the contents spill onto the linoleum. Jack wagged his whole body in
excitement at the mountain of food.

“There you go, Sweet Boy—just in case I don’t make it,” I
told him, scratching his neck. My throat clenched, but I was too exhausted for
tears.

Jack wagged and whimpered, unable to decide on the
appropriate response.

Sitting back on the couch, I stared at the wall and
sipped water as I waited for my computer to boot up. I begged my mind to stay
empty.

Date: December 9, 8:30 PM

From: Danielle O’Connor

To: Zoe Cartwright

Subject: (no subject)

Cam’s gone.

A little bit ago, while I was trying to throw up my
intestines in the bathroom, Cam stopped breathing. He just stopped being. I
mean, one minute I left him sleeping in our bedroom, and the next minute he was
just...gone.

Do you remember my birthday last year when Cam and I landed
in Boston? You parked in the ridiculously expensive parking garage rather than
just picking us up, and you met us at baggage claim. You said you’d have
counted the parking rate as a birthday present except that you wanted to see me
just as badly as I wanted to see you. After that statement, Cam gave you a bear
hug and said, “I love how much you love her!” That was the moment I knew I
wanted to spend forever with him. I would have, too.

He’s dead, and I loved him. He’s lying in our bed—dead—and I
still
love him. But shouldn’t I not want to face a world without him?
Shouldn’t I want to die? I don’t know how I feel right now. I feel nothing.

I’m sorry...I haven’t read any emails or answered any calls
for days. I haven’t even spoken with Grams. I’ve just been…passed out. I’m
really tired, so I’m going to lie down on the couch and hope I wake up. I miss
you. I miss you so much that it makes me feel...something. Love you, Zo.

Dani

Zoe

On any given night, the idea of getting into bed with my
perfectly worn flannel sheets would’ve been welcomed. I would wrap myself in
blankets and bake in the divine, sweltering heat. But I couldn’t. Though I
could feel the monstrous chill closing in around me, nipping at my ears, nose,
and neck, the covers were suffocating. They were too warm, too tight. I
couldn’t get comfortable. Only moments after slipping under the covers, I threw
them off.

I’m fine.
Everything’s fine,
I lied to myself.
Just get a glass of water, and go back to sleep. It’s just a fever…it’ll be
gone tomorrow.

I struggled to get up. My head throbbed, my body ached,
and my sweats felt like sandpaper against sunburn—abrasive and raw. I loved my
pajamas, yet I couldn’t tear them off fast enough. Naked, I welcomed the chill
of the night on my unshielded body.

Suddenly, the cool air felt like shards of glass cutting
me.
Shit!
What the hell’s wrong with me?
My body was too
sensitive. My skin felt like heavy leather being pulled as I moved—stiff and
unable to mold to the form of my body.
I have to do something.

It was below freezing outside, and I was lying in bed,
naked and sweating. I tried not to think about Jordan’s death, but I couldn’t
help but wonder,
Am I dying?

My mouth started watering, and I attempted to swallow the
bile rising up my throat, but it wouldn’t stay down. Lurching over the edge of
the bed, I reached for the trash can as my stomach convulsed. I vomited until I
felt hollow. Eventually, even the dry heaves ceased, and I wiped my sweaty brow
with the back of my hand. Shaking, I stared at everything I’d puked up and
waited for my breathing to steady.

I hobbled to the bathroom and locked the disgusting trash
can inside. Retrieving a large mixing bowl from the kitchen, I settled on the
couch and turned on the television. Although its luminescence burned my eyes,
Bob Ross’s calm, soothing voice talking about “happy little trees” and
“whatever your heart desires” made me think about painting instead of pain. At
least for a little while.

1 SENT TEXT MESSAGE:

TO: D

Why aren’t your picking up your phone? Are you OK? Stupid
question, I know. I can’t believe what happened to Cam. I’m so sorry D. Please
just call me.

December 10, 11:45 AM

Dani’s email riddled me with fear. Every hair on my body
stood on end as a sense of despair took root deep inside me. The panic and
alarm I’d hidden away in the crevasses of my mind finally escaped their
restraints. I couldn’t catch my breath as hysteria wrapped itself around my
throat like a boa constrictor.
She’s not answering. She can’t be dead! What
about Jason? Dad and Grams? Oh my God…we’re not going to make it
…

I could hear Sarah retching in the bathroom. Of course
I’d get sick too.
Am I better? I’m feeling better, but…

Remembering that my dad was alone and that Dani was worse
off than I was, I used my rising conviction to levy my fear.
I have to get
to them.

I tossed my phone away in haste, completely forgetting
that my ex-boyfriend, Dave, had texted me to make sure I was okay. I’d also
forgotten that I had missed his call and that I was scheduled to work a gallery
opening.

Frantically, I shuffled through my room, snatching
anything and everything lying around. My body still ached, but I ignored it. I
put no thought into what I grabbed, filling my bag on autopilot.

I have to stay in
control
, I told myself as I took a deep breath.
Dad needs me. Dani needs me.

I tried to change my flight home for Christmas, but I
couldn’t get through to the airline. I would’ve settled for driving across the
country, but I didn’t have a car.
Dammit!
Then I remembered…the bus
station. I just needed to get there and buy a ticket. Then I could get to them.
Hopefully it’ll be soon enough…

Date: December 10, 11:35 PM

From: Zoe Cartwright

To: Danielle O’Connor

Subject: Freaking Out

Where are you, D? Why haven’t you contacted me? You’d better
be alive! I’m trying to hold it together, but I can’t do that if you’re MIA.

I went to the bus station to buy a ticket home. It’s shut
down. To make it worse, the airline’s phones have been busy since yesterday.
Things are pretty bad here. Everything’s closed, including Earl’s and the
gallery. I haven’t been able to get a hold of you or anyone else. The only
people I’ve seen around Salem aren’t particularly in the best frame of
mind—most are skittish, talking to themselves or smelling like they haven’t
showered in a week. I even saw a blonde chick from the clinic…she was filthy
and wandering aimlessly around downtown like she didn’t know where she was.
It’s really bad.

I’m beginning to feel trapped here in the middle of this
frozen, crazed wasteland. Everything’s falling apart, and there’s nothing I can
do about it. I’m trying not to freak out.

I’ve called you like 7 times. I’m so worried about you,
Dani. Please call or write when you can.

I love you,

Zoe

Folded into the overstuffed chair in my living room, I
stared absentmindedly out the picture window, mesmerized by the white flurries
floating to the ground. My phone slid from my grasp, and my eyes followed it as
it landed among the magazines and laundry strewn on the carpet.
Jordan was
always the tidy one.
 

I shivered. Wearing only boxers and one of my dad’s old
t-shirts, I felt like my toes were ice cubes. I held a mug of cold tea and
stroked the old, worn fabric of my shirt, wishing it still smelled like Dad.

It had been a week since I’d heard from him, and Jason
hadn’t called me back either. Dani’s last email had crumpled any hope I’d had
left that things would get better.
I’m losing everyone
.

“You’re cold.” Sarah’s voice was timid and quiet behind
me.

“I’m always cold,” I muttered. I often berated myself for
making the stupid decision to move to the East Coast, forcing myself to endure
the freezing winters.
And now far away from everyone I care about…

Sarah cleared her throat.

Momentarily removing myself from oblivion, I looked at her.
She held out a burgundy fleece blanket, and I wondered how pathetic I must
appear. Too exhausted to be stubborn, I accepted her offering and managed a
weak smile. “Thanks, Sarah.” I set the blanket haphazardly on my lap,
refocusing my gaze on the darkened world outside.

Before I could slip back into the empty, paralyzing void,
I felt Sarah’s delicate hands on my lap, repositioning the blanket to cover me.
The warmth of the thick fleece soothed me, and my eyes began to sting as the
salty tears I’d been fighting finally emerged.
Lacking the energy to
hold them in, I let them fall. My chin trembled, and my chest was burdened with
swells of loneliness as my doubts began to consume me.

Wiping my cheeks, I looked at Sarah again. Her curls were
wild and unbrushed, and her clothes were dirty. She had dark circles under her
eyes, and her lips were chapped—a pet peeve that I would’ve done something
about in another life. I’d forgotten she was sick too.
And she’s taking care
of me.

“You don’t have to do that.” My voice was unintentionally
distant and cold, but I lacked the will to do anything about it.

Sarah stood abruptly. Her features were pinched with
worry, and her eyes were red and swollen. Nostrils flaring, she tried to
compose herself before speaking. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…bother you.”

She turned to leave, and hot guilt coursed through me.
She’s
just being nice. Don’t be a bitch
, I thought. I shook myself, trying to
dispel the mental numbness, and grabbed Sarah’s hand gently.

She turned. “Thank you for letting me stay here, Zoe.”
Her words were filled with emotion and gratitude. “It means so much to me. I
don’t want to be alone.” Her cracked voice broke my heart. “I know you don’t
want me here, but I—”

Tears were streaming down her face faster than she could
wipe them away. She sat down on the couch and began sobbing into her hands, her
body shaking violently.

Seeing Sarah’s anguish was too much. I wanted to scream.
Rising from my chair, I went to sit beside her. I pulled her into my arms and
wrapped the blanket around us. She coughed, reminding me she was infected, but
it didn’t really matter anymore.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered to her and knew it
was true
. At least I’m not utterly alone.

After drifting in and out of sleep for what seemed like hours,
Sarah and I were startled awake by the shrill ring of my cell phone. I jumped
up and rushed to retrieve it from the floor even though my joints were stiff
from being curled up on the couch.
Please don’t hang up!

Fumbling with the phone, I was finally able to answer it
with shaky fingers. “Dad?” I cried in a trembling voice.

“Zoe, I can’t talk long—”

“Dammit Jason, where the
hell’ve
you been?!” I shrieked. “Have you heard from Dad? I can’t get ahold of him
and—”

“Listen to me, Zoe. You need to get to Colorado. I need
you to head to Peterson Air Force Base near Colorado Springs; it’s safe there,”
he said between uneven breaths.

“How am I supposed to get to Colorado? I don’t have a
car; the bus station’s closed—”

“Zoe, focus! Find a way to get there and do it as soon as
you can.” His words were rushed and clipped.

Jason’s scared.

“Answer me, Zoe!” he snapped.

“Yes, I’ll get there. I promise. I’ll find a way.” The
garbled sound of movement on the other end told me I had only a second before
Jason ended our conversation. “Wait! What about Dad and Dani?” It was silent.
“Jason? Are you there?”

“Dani’s alive?” His voice was grave.

“I don’t know. She was really sick the last time I—”

“Where is she?” he asked.

“She’s at her apartment in Seattle, but—”

“I’m headed there now. I’ll check on her and meet you at
Peterson. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” My mind was
whirling with questions. “Don’t you need her
addr
—”

“Text it to me. I’ll be in touch. Just pack what you need
and go.”

“Jason, I’m—”

But there was a click and the line went dead. My brother
was gone.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins, bringing me out of my
stupor.

Still sitting, Sarah stared up at me curiously. “What’s
going on? Who’s Jason?”

“My brother,” I said distractedly.
Pack and go,
was
all I could think.

I looked around in a frenzy, though it didn’t take
long—there weren’t many places to look in the tiny, two-bedroom home.
Think,
Zoe.
What do we need?

“Zoe?” Sarah asked.

Running to my room, I tried to explain, “Um, he said
there’s a safe place for us to go, but it’s in Colorado. We’ve gotta figure out
a way to get there.”

“But how?” Sarah was standing in my doorway, wide-eyed
and expecting an explanation.

“
I don’t know. We could steal a car.” I dumped the
contents of my already packed bag onto the bed.

Sarah wrapped the blanket more tightly around her. “Do
you know how to do that?”

“I have no idea, but I’ll figure something out. Who
knows, maybe we’ll find one with keys.”

Socks, iPod, phone charger, underwear, towel…
I
searched through my room, hoping I wouldn’t forget anything important. In my
haste, I didn’t think about the house or what I was leaving behind. All I could
think about was getting to Jason in Colorado.

Before Sarah could question me any further, someone
started pounding on the front door. Startled, we looked at each other. I
brought my index finger to my lips and cautioned Sarah to stay quiet before I
tiptoed to the living room. Upon hearing a dog whining on the front porch, I
moved slowly toward the peephole and peered out.

“What the—”

1 SENT TEXT MESSAGE:

To: D

Jason called. He’s coming for you. Hang on, D!

December 11, 2:30 AM