I sat in front of the non-responsive pump, staring at the taunting green “unleaded” button. Deciding there was nothing I could do, I went across the street to the local hardware store to find a screwdriver. After I expertly infiltrated the store, I sulked between the towering rows of shelves until I found a hose and several large gas cans. I tried convincing myself that it wouldn’t be too bad then spent the next seven hours taking the gas out of the cars in town.
Sick from the multiple mouthfuls of gas, I filled my car with gas and put the remaining ten gas cans in the back seat, trunk, and anywhere else I could manage to squeeze them into. I turned on my car, happy the gas gauge was now off empty. My decision the previous night was still fresh in my mind. With some reluctance, I drove in the direction of Ben and May’s house, preparing myself for whatever I might find. The house was five minutes out of town in a small neighborhood that, at one time, was inhabited by kind people and adorable children. I pulled into the drive and killed the engine. I had frequently visited the house and everything looked the same except there were no men laughing, children playing, or women telling their kids to stay out of the road. The street was perfect with mowed lawns and trimmed trees, but now only my eyes saw its beauty. With shaking hands, I got out of my car and walked to the door. I knew when I found the door unlocked that Ben had died as well. Still, a faint voice in my head told me that Ben might be alive and to enter the residence. I opened the door and went inside.
The heat inside the house was equivalent to the air outside. I slowly walked from room to room, saving the master bedroom for last. The house appeared deserted as I approach their old bedroom. Slightly opening the door I called, “Ben,” my voice came out no more than a whisper. I pushed the door the rest of the way open and instantly regretted ever coming here. My hands flew to my mouth, trying to stifle my scream, as I discovered Ben’s limp body lying on the floor beside the bed. I rushed from the house as tears began to blur my eyes. I didn’t stop the car until I reached my own driveway an hour later.
I turned the car off and let my new wave of tears fall down my face. How could I have been so stupid? There was no use point in believing that there were others, no point in hoping I will ever see someone besides my own reflection. I slammed the car and house door as I went to the couch and cried myself to sleep, hopelessly grasping the TV remote.
One year later…
I sat on a blue sheet at the local park, licking my strawberry ice cream. The bright July sun warmed every inch of my body as it beat down on my back. Ben, May, Clair, and Brad came and sat down to form a circle on the sheet. They all were smiling and laughing at the many jokes Brad and Ben were telling. A little boy, who appeared to have been crying, ran up to May with an ice cream cone saying he dropped his ice cream. May’s expression showed her gentle nature as she gave her son her own ice cream. The boy hugged his mother and ran off to play with three other kids. Brad said another funny joke and I began to laugh so hard that I couldn’t breathe. Then I realized that I wasn’t able to catch my breath. My friends around me were still laughing, not noticing my distress. I tried to call to them, to get them to help me. They only continued to laugh as everything blackened.
I woke in panic to find two hands pressing down on my throat. My eyes widened as I felt for the head of the person strangling me. I was about to give up and die in the grasp of this stranger’s hands when I found their face. I reached around their head and, with as much force as I could manage, I broke the intruder’s neck. I gasped as air filled my lungs again and my vision cleared. I pushed the body onto the floor and sat up. I was in the living room, which had become my bedroom. The living room and kitchen were now the only rooms I saw, I had shut the other rooms out of my life many months ago. I carelessly kicked the body in attempt to roll the person, who was clearly male, on his back. The man was fairly large and proved harder to budge than one would have thought. So I knelt beside the man and forced him onto his back.
I relaxed once I had made sure he had died and then studied him. He must have been watching me since yesterday atleast, there was no other explanation to how he knew I was here. He was one of only three people that I had encountered in the past year. The other two were two women that had tried to kill me back in January while I was in town getting canned food out of the houses on main street. They both had been silenced with two bullets from my handgun.
This time, however, it was different. It was one thing to kill someone with a gun, it used to happen all the time, but to murder with your bare hands sent a whole different feeling through your bones. It shocked me that I had even been strong enough to break his neck. After that quick contemplation, I dragged the body out behind the house and, like the women, burned the body.
I ignored the smell of burning flesh as much as I could as I went to take a bath in the creek a little ways into the woods behind the house. I stripped and walked into the refreshingly cool water. The creeks had become so clear since humanity died. In a sense, I was glad I was alone.
“Do you always burn your guests,” a male voice asked behind me. I froze and mentally thought what the odds were that I was hallucinating and, in the case that I wasn’t, if I could reach my knife before the man killed me. I decided it was worth a try and spun around, reaching out for the knife. I didn’t care if he saw me naked, one of us wouldn’t around for much longer. I curled my fingers around the knife and flung myself at the stranger. I raised my hand intending to stab the guy in his throat but, when he grabbed my hand, was satisfied with delivering him the hardest punch in the face of his life. “Shit,” he exclaimed as he reached up to rub his nose. I went to strike at him with the knife again but stopped when he held up a gun.
Defeated, I dropped the knife and raised my hands. The man looked at me once he realized his nose wasn’t bleeding and began to laugh. I scowled, “What?” I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t sound more intimidating because I had had a good look at the man now and noticed he was fairly attractive, for someone who tried to kill me.
He was still smiling when he answered, “Nothing, I just haven’t seen someone do that since the last time I watched TV.” I assumed he was referring to my raised hands so, I dropped them. When he just stood there, I rolled my eyes and went to get my clothes. “It’s not smart turning your back on strangers,” even with my back to him, I knew his expression probably hadn’t changed.
“I figure there is no point in trying to fight you since I wouldn’t get very far.”
“Why, thank you. I’m glad you realized that I’m far stronger and faster than you.”
“I was talking about your gun,” I was starting to get annoyed.
“So was I,” this comment was a little more serious. By the following one, however, he had regained his seemingly playful tone. “So are you going to show me your luxurious home,” then he added when I stopped while I was halfway done pulling up my jeans and turned to give him the meanest glare I could manage, “When you’re done of course. Please?”
I rolled my eyes, finished dressing and began walking to my house without another word. He whistled as soon as we entered the house. “Got enough food, chipmunk,” he asked, looking and the hundreds of cans I had stacked in the house.
It was probably the weirdest question I’d ever been asked so, naturally, the only thing I could think to do was ask another question, “What?” I turned and looked into his dark blue eyes.
“Wow, you have a really big vocabulary. You have said five whole sentences and two of them had been ‘what’,” he returned my gaze, but didn’t appear as confused.
“Excluding this one, I had only said four sentences to you. And besides” I added, “why are you counting?” I turned and went into the kitchen, looking for something to eat.
He shut the front door behind him, “For the same reason you are counting.” When I didn’t reply, he continued, “My name’s Jared. And you are?”
“Mia,” I said as I opened a small can of vienna sausages and pierced one with a fork.
“It’s nice to meet you. Been here long,” He had begun going from wall to wall looking at the pictures hung on the walls.
“Long enough to know you haven’t,” for some reason, I wanted to play mind games. And I hadn’t really had a conversation with a person for a year, excluding the few words exchanged between the two women and me.
“Yeah, we just got here last night. I was in charge of this area,” Jared had finished looking and was now looking at me.
“There is more of you?
“Well, not exactly of me,” Jared laughed, “Come on. I’ll show you.” He walked to the door and, when he noticed I hadn’t followed, he turned saying, “Unless you would prefer to stay here for the rest of your life.”
I thought about his offer and left the empty can on the counter. I grabbed my keys then followed Jared out of the house. For the first time in one year, I locked the door behind me.
