Page 1

The pain came again, low in her side, and sharp. She fell against the wall, and slid down whimpering. It had been like this for several days, and she was scared. The first time she felt the pain, she had been too afraid to chance the streets to try to get to a rescue station. And she knew better than to try for a hospital. That would have been where they were numbered in the hundreds.

So instead, she had stayed home and watched the world end on the television.

They walked the streets now, hundreds she could see...the thousands, maybe millions she couldn’t is what caused her to turn cold.

The pain again. She fought to stay awake as white and green splotches of light flickered in front of her eyes. She groaned, and cradled her stomach.

She remembered watching the television as people were pulled down in the streets and pulled apart, watched the television as pasty faced newscasters and shaky cameramen shot the end of the world. Pulitzer Prize winning stuff for sure, except for the small fact of the world ending.

She remembered the young man she had pushed down the stairs. He had asked to stay with her, his own apartment across the hall, he claimed, was too dangerous. She was afraid of his eyes, the way they crawled over her. He had always been nice to her, always spoken kindly, and had helped her carry groceries a few times. But he had that look...

His head had cracked on the landing, and something dribbled out. She remembered that, but she didn’t remember the act. She had calmly went inside, and locked the door and the chain, and watched television.

Now, she sat rocking back and forth, waiting for the pain to subside again, then maybe there would be water. She had gotten as many containers as she could find, and gotten water when she saw how bad things were. She had also filled up the tub and all the sinks. She was prepared.

The pain finally went away, and she stood shakily. The room swam drunkenly, but she didn’t mind. She would eat something, and relax for a while.

No reason to remember the young man, no reason to remember the sound his head had made when it cracked apart on the stairs below, no reason to remember these things at all.

She sat at the table and the pain came again, worse than ever before. She screamed out, and grabbed at her side, falling out of the chair, and dislocating her shoulder.

Something inside popped she felt it, and it seemed she could hear it. She felt loose and rubbery, like she was moving her bowels, but higher up.

Sally screamed a last time, and fainted.

Her appendix had finally burst, and she wasn’t awake when she died.

* * *

Tammy screamed through the door again at the Thing that had been her brother. It battered senselessly against the door, and the radio on the table still played the old tape over and over again.

"-you wanna live. To the sound of rock fire, in your veins."

She screamed again, and cradled the empty rifle in her arms. There were no bullets, and she had no idea how to fire it, besides. The door splintered, and light filtered through.

"Get out of here Aaron, get out, it’s not you..." She trailed off as a hand thrust through the crack. It floundered around, and pulled back out, tearing off flesh and gouging into the muscles.

The Thing that was her moaned again.

"I know what I need, and I need it fast..."

Clothes and several boxes fell from the shelf. A heavy box landed beside her right leg, and with the light coming from underneath the door, she saw it had pictures of bullets on it.

Federal, it said, Premium .30 .30 shells.

She picked it up and shook it. There were a few in there. She’d seen her father and brother load the rifle and she tried to do as she remembered.

She loaded four of the bullets in, then worked the rifles lever. There was no safety, so she would have to be careful.

Timidly, she aimed the rifle at the long crack in the door. And she waited.

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