It was morning. Jessica wiped the sleep from her eyes and slowly looked around. It didn’t seem like anything had ever changed. But it had. In the past three years, everything had changed. It started small, and eventually the whole world was effected. Millions, died. Only a handful survived. Jessica was thankful to be one of them. Most days.
As she laid there, on her makeshift bed of leaves, she replayed one memory she wished she could forget. It was the last time she saw her husband alive and happy.
“Hunny, will you go to the store and grab something for dinner?” Tanner asked Jessica.
“Yes, dear.” Jessica replied.
Fishing for her keys, she had a pang of fear. She looked up at her husband, who’s reassuring smile beamed back at her. There wasn’t anything to fear, but she had a gut feeling something was wrong.
For days, Tanner looked pale. He’d been running a fever for days. They’d gone to the doctor, who reassured them it was just the flu, prescribed some antibiotics, and sent them on their way.
Jessica kissed Tanner on the forehead, and looking back once more before leaving, she smiled.
When Jessica arrived home, she heard screaming. She bolted from the car and up to the front door. Jess stopped just before opening the door. She heard Tanner, but also heard someone else. The sound coming from behind the door was unfamiliar to her. It sounded like a horrid gurgling and moans. She slowly opened the door. But as she peaked around the door, the scene before her made her gasp. Her knees buckled, she fell to the floor. Sobs escaped from her mouth. Tanner laid there bloodied on the floor.
That moment played in her head, several times a week. For the past three years. She’s lived with that nightmare ever since.
Grogily, Jessica propped herself up on her elbows. She let out a breath.
“Just a dream,” she reassured herself.
Jess, proceeded to get up and pack up her belongings. She changed out over her shorts and put on her Army issued camoflauge pants and tied up her boots. She grabbed up her beloved Strider knife, a gift from her husband. She rolled it over and over in her hand, looking down, she read the engraving on the handle. “To my love, Jessica.” A tear welled up in her eye. She swallowed it back, tucking the knife in it’s case and strapping it to her belt. She put her survival bracelet, something she had made when the infection first showed it’s ugly face to the world. Made out of parachute cord, it’s meant to be used in an emergency situation. Unbound, the rope can be used for a variety of needs. It was a hobby she liked to keep up with.
Every town she visited, she made one, if the materials were found. Left behind with a scribbled note, she hoped someone would come across it and take it with them on their own travels.
Jessica finished packing up her stuff, threw the backpack on and travelled onward to the next town.
