He turned when he heard the soft steps on the wooden stairs. Coop was sitting above, looking down with curiosity.
“Come on down Cooper, I’ll show you my hunting rifles. You must never touch these without permission, but when you get older, I’ll teach you how to use them.”
Cooper came down and stood beside Brian, his eyes large.
“Wow.” He said in his childish voice. Brian grinned.
“Wow indeed. We’re going to be leaving soon, we’re going to go on a long camping trip. How do you like that?”
“Oh, I like that daddy, I like that a lot!” Cooper grinned up at Brian. Brian ruffled the blond head.
TWO
Flynn was starving. He’d not left his apartment; his fear was so great that he could not bring himself to leave after his first venture out. Now, he had no choice. He dug around in his closet and found a backpack. He was going to have to leave and find food and water. He also dug up several bandanas, he’d tie those around his face, to block out the awful stench. From his window, he’d seen the progressive decomposition of the bodies around his apartment. He’d also seen more animals. A herd of zebra had run past his building two days ago. It was such a shock and he’d found himself laughing, which had turned to crying.
He’d have to take the stairs but he’d bring his flashlight this time. His apartment was like an oven and he’d gone through all the water he’d found in the other apartments. He’d even gone so far as to take water from the toilet tanks.
He wished he’d had a hazmat suit, but no such luck. He walked out into the living room, and he gritted his teeth as he walked to the front door, clutching his car keys in hand. He had to get food or die. Making his way down the stairs, the light from the flashlight, bounced off the walls of the stairwell, his foot falls echoing. The smell of putrefaction was muffled behind the bandana, but he could still smell it. He walked out onto the street, squinting his eyes in the bright light. He quickly walked along Lancaster avenue, to where he’d last parked his car. Averting his eyes from the bodies that littered the street, he moved around unrecognizable lumps and piles of vile things. He could still smell the fug of rot and ruin. It was like a heavy coat, covering his body, his skin, his hair.
His eyes searched upwards at the buildings and apartments. He looked for faces behind the windows, but saw none. The hair rose on his body, at the thought of people looking down on him. His once vibrant city was now silent. He no longer heard horns from traffic, nor buses. The streets were empty, but for the lumps and trash that blew about in abandon. He could hear flies and there were massive swarms, hovering over the bodies. Flynn kept his eyes averted. His flesh shivered, like the flanks on a horse, rippling from the revulsion.
Getting into his Honda Civic, he held his breath as he turned the key. He wasn’t sure if the battery was still good, it was an old one. The car had been his father’s and his father had given it to him. It was nearly rusted out, but it had been a reliable ride. Letting out a sigh when the engine turned over, Flynn pulled out and headed east, figuring Whole Foods was his best bet. Maybe he’d grab a cart and fill it to the rim so he’d not have to venture out again for a while. Being outside gave him the creeps. Between the stench and the apocalyptic scenery, he’d just as soon avoid it all, not to mention the friggen tiger that was roaming around somewhere. Once more, he thought of a weapon. Once he got what he needed, he’d hunker down for a while.
He’d lost track of time; had it been well over a month since this all started? Or just a few weeks? He thought about the first reports of the virus. He’d seen only one news alert that had mentioned South Korea having patient zero. Had North Korea started this mess? But then China had victims popping up and that was when the media went wild with accusations from China. Then the United States started firing back accusations. Within only hours, cases of the Vermilion Strain were popping up all over the world at the same time. Was it a strategic attack? Flynn wondered, was it China or was it North Korea, or was it the United States? He wouldn’t put it past his own government.
In short order, he arrived at Whole Foods. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but not many. He watched as an Andean condor landed on a body. It must have come from the zoo. Jesus Christ. He looked around, fearing a lion or tiger would jump him. He saw nothing move. He didn’t see anyone or anything other than the condor. Sitting in his car, his blue eyes scanned the surrounding area for movement. Bodies, or what was left of them, were scattered around, like trash that littered the ground. If he could hold up long enough, maybe most of it would be gone on his next venture out. He’d thought about swinging by Cramer’s place, but didn’t want to know for sure, that his best friend was dead. He wanted to remember Cramer as the laughing and lively man he was. Cramer was a jokester as well as a prankster. He’d been the victim more than once of one of Cramer’s pranks, as had Roger. A soft
