John

The smell of freshly cooked bacon has got to be on my top ten list of things that I have missed the most. So naturally, when I realized I had the capabilities to cook bacon for breakfast, I did it. As I cooked, I watched out of my window to see members of the community waking up and making breakfast as well. Knowing that I was a part of something - a neighborhood, a family, an organization - gave me purpose. Waking up the next day and knowing that I was going to do something to better the community made me keep going.

Once the bacon was finished, I piled it onto my plate and ate it. Although most people eat bacon with pancakes or waffles, I just wanted damn bacon. I could have downed it with some maple syrup but decided against it. As my teeth ripped through each piece, I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I hope that the zombies are ripping through Steven's flesh. I pictured myself as one, going for the neck first so he could slowly bleed out while I ripped him limb from limb.

A knock on the front door startled me out of my violent vision. I carried my plate of bacon with me to the door and opened it. Justin looks at me, perplexed. "The bacon good?" he asks, with a smile on his face.

"Yeah," I try to say with a mouthful of food, "but the whole pig probably would have been better."

Justin laughs. "Mind if I come in?" he asks. Not having a problem with it, I invite Justin in and move him towards the couch.

He sits down and sighs heavily. "I really want to keep my dad's vision going," he says. "I know that he was wanting to keep this community going for a very long time. He wanted us to start a new America. That's why he tried to make this place such a big deal. We want to invite people with open arms, be accepting of all. But now..." He trails off.

"What?" I ask him, sitting down in the chair across from him.

"Well, I'm just worried that with the way this world is, we can't be that way anymore. We have to take precautions and be prepared for disasters when they come our way. What Chris did to my dad," he sobs, "I don't want anyone else in this community to go through that. I would die for this community, just like he did."

I'm shaken. Everything he's said is true, and he knows it, so what am I supposed to say?

"You're right," I respond. "That's why we fight for the ones we love, and we sacrifice with everything we have." He looks up at me. I continue. "I mean, if we fight with all we've got, what can they take from us at that point? I know that I would do anything to keep Lizzy safe, and knowing that this community exists for us means I will fight to keep it for us."

Justin smiles. "I'm glad to hear that," he says. "It's good to see that somebody feels the same way that I do. We just need to get everyone else here feeling that same way. A war is coming, and I know that if we don't prepare them for it, we're going to lose."

"I've actually been putting together a new scavenging group," he tells me. "We are going to go out and find some excess food, water, supplies - basically anything that we can use for the community. Would you like to help me and go out with us?"

I mull over his offer for less than a couple of minutes before deciding that I will do it.

"Sure," I respond. "Where do I need to meet?"

"Tonight at my house, 7 pm," he states. "Everyone will be there sharp and we will go out together. We are going to plan on being back before 11 pm. Sound good?"

"Yep," I respond. Justin pushes himself up off of the couch and makes his way towards the front door.

"See you then, John. Oh, and don't forget a flashlight."

☠

I click the front door shut and look down at the face of my watch. It's 6:50.

I didn't think it would take me this long to get ready, but I'm honestly just psyching myself out. I know deep in my head that it will only take me about 5 minutes to walk to Justin's place. However, some nudging part of me is telling myself that I'm late. Always.

I walk down the neighborhood street and admire the lovely scenery. The sky is turning that velvety purple and pink color; that time right before the darkness envelops the sky. Everyone is either relaxing on their front porch or inside, eating dinner. I'm like the outside watcher, the observer.

I watch families smile and laugh as they pass their dinner plates around the table, getting handfuls of mashed potatoes, green beans, and turkey. It fills me with utter joy and happiness. This community has so much to offer to the rest of the survivors, to the rest of the world. If only the world wasn't so broken now.

The world was broken before, and the virus shattered it. Politics. Hate crimes. Violence. The world was the yard of a dog owner who never cleaned up after it. The shit just kept stacking up, pile after pile. The virus was the leafblower that shot it into the sky, hurdling it towards destruction.

I reach Justin's front porch, and it creaks under my feet. Before I can even knock, the front door opens quickly, and Justin is holding a half-drunken beer in his hand. He smiles at me and hollers. "Come on in! We're just planning out where to go!" I can tell by the slight slur in his voice that he's not entirely drunk, but he's certainly not sober.

I step into the front door as he waves me in, and I take in another form of scenery. It smells of strong yeast, laughter, and more slurred speech. I can tell that this scenery has also had one too many. This will be a long night.

One of the men invites me over to a table where four other men stand around a map, staring at it intently. "Hey, you're John, right?" he asks while putting an arm around me and pulling me close to the group. "Yes," I respond, trying to change the subject. "So where are we going tonight?"

He sets his beer down on the table and points quickly to a spot on the map. "We're gonna start here," his finger points to a spot about 2 miles outside of the town, "then work our way up here." I follow his finger with my eyes as it trails up the map, down a road that leads into a small town.

"We drove past it last week and it looked like it had been practically untouched," Justin remarked. I look up from the map at his face, and he's grinning happily like he's found the hidden treasure.

"Of course," he quickly remarks, "we haven't been inside any of the buildings, so it could be a dead end, but we figured it was worth a shot." A man to my left hands me a beer, and I hesitate but then decline his offer. If worse comes to worse, I'd rather be clear-headed than beheaded.

Plus, on top of that, I've avoided drinking ever since it destroyed my relationship with Lizzie. I know that crushed her, seeing my depression consume me and control my every being. I would never put her through that again. It's been hard, and there have been times when I've wanted to pick the bottle back up again. So far, however, I'm doing good at it.

Justin walks over, slings a backpack onto his shoulder, and the other men in the group do the same. We all trot towards the front door, and I brace myself for the long night ahead.

☠

We get into a part of town that I remember driving through but didn't stop. The buildings were most definitely abandoned, and they look the same now.

This should be a breeze, thankfully. The whole walk here, the guys were pissing their pants with laughter over some of the dumbest shit, I swear to God.

There was one point where a deer wandered into the road, and they stared at it for a while and started making jokes about it. I wanted to just go on, but of course, they had other ideas, so they shot the deer not just once, but four times. Why? I have no damn clue. If this was what I was like around Lizzie, I feel bad for her especially now. It's like dealing with children.

Luckily though, most of the men were sobering up by the time we got here. Now, it's time to get down to business and grab as much stuff as we can get.

Justin stops and looks around, then begins to order us into which buildings to go to. He sends me with another man named Pierce, whom I have never met, but luckily it doesn't seem like he had been drinking. If anything, we may be the most focused ones when it comes to getting these supplies.

We get in the musty, tattered building which looks like it used to be a local grocery store. Before anything, I pick up an empty can and throw it at the wall. Pierce looks at me confused and says, "What are yo-", but I put a finger to my lips and he keeps quiet. A quiet growl comes from the back of the store, and I make my way towards it. One of the zombies is stuck in the bottom rack of a shopping cart. I unholster my knife from my side and thrust it downwards into the back of its head.

Pierce smiles. "Damn," he remarks. "That's a hell of a good idea." I shrug and say, "Something I saw on a TV show once. Figured it's worth a shot."

We split up. Pierce agrees to take the left half of the store, while I take the right side. I gather items for about 10 minutes into the bag Justin gave me. Medicine, canned food, batteries, water bottles, and a couple of cigarette boxes are all that I can find. Luckily though, Justin was right. Although this place had been hit, it was decently off the map that it wasn't completely dried out.

I walk over to Pierce, who's crouching behind one of the aisles picking something up off of the ground. I turn the corner and watch him put it into his personal backpack. Whatever he's taking, it can't be good.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask him, defensively.

He turns around quickly and looks at me with panic in his eyes. "Please," he pleads. "You've got to understand, my wife and my daughter are both very sick. They both have really bad heart conditions, and I've been trying to find this medicine for so long."

"How much did you take?" I ask him, trying to remain calm.

He looks into his backpack, then looks back up at me and remarks, "3 bottles of Plavix. Please, Justin would be furious if he knew I did this."

I sigh and lean against the wall. I slowly let my back run down it and my bottom hit the ground. I look up at him with a sudden feeling of relief.

"I understand that you really need this medicine for your family, and you've been looking for it, but let's bring it to the community first instead of keeping it for ourselves," I suggest. "3 bottles is a lot of medicine, and if some other people need the medicine as well, we can control who gets it and we can still make sure that your daughter and wife get the medicine they need. We have to start thinking about the community as a whole, not just something we are a part of. It's sacrifice."

He looks back up at me, looks down in the bag, and then sighs. "You're right," he comments. He pulls the bottles out of his backpack, puts them in the bag, then throws his backpack over his shoulder and stands up.

"Thank you, John," he says. "Sometimes it's hard to remember what we are out here fighting for, and sometimes we forget we aren't just fighting for ourselves."

I stand up and give him a pat on the back with my hand. "Let's go out there and keep fighting then," I say. We walk out the door together, bags in hand.

☠

We get back to the community about 30 minutes to 11, so we made it just in the time limit that Justin suggested. I hand my bag over to Kyle, who's in charge of organizing most of the community's resources. Pierce follows shortly after, and as I walk away, he gives me a wave. I wave back.

Thankful that I have made a friend, this community is panning out to be better than I hoped. I'm here with my daughter, I have made friends within the community, I've inspired Justin, and I've got something to fight for now.

There are times where I reflect on the fact that not too long ago, we were trying to stick it out with Steven. Now, I can't think of a time when I would want that fucker near me again.

I walk down the street and approach my house, remarking on the little suburb homes and all of the porch lights turned on. As I look back again at my home, Christy is sitting on the bench on the porch, sipping a cup of coffee and staring into space.

I approach her cautiously, not sure what's going on right now. I'm fine with her being around still, but I'm not sure if she and Lizzie had an argument or what exactly is happening. I walk up the steps and she jumps a little when she hears me, turning her head away from the stars.

"Hey," I remark. She smiles at me, and waves with her fingers holding the handle of the coffee mug.

"Can I sit here?" I ask her as I approach the bench. She scoots over a little bit and nods. I sit down and she resumes to stare up at the stars. Wondering what she's thinking, I do the same thing, but we're not connected that way.

I begin to ask her what she's thinking about when she starts talking at the same time. We both stop and look at each other, then start talking at the same time again. We giggle at each other's expense, and then I say, "You go first."

She sighs and looks into my eyes. "Justin, I've been thinking. The things I did to you, they were wrong and I can never make up for that and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for abandoning you and Elizabeth and trying to make you raise her on your own. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I just wanted to say that I think even though she doesn't see it, you're a great father."

The words come delayed into my heart, but once they hit, they hit hard and I am overwhelmed with a warmth that cannot be described. I begin to blush, then I smile and say, "Thank you. To be honest, and this may be a little forward, but... I've actually never stopped missing the way you made me feel, Christy. I missed the way we were the "power parents", trying to be the best examples for Lizzy, no matter what shitty situations come our way... and I think... I think the worst situation of all was trying to work through this new world without you in the beginning."

"You would have been able to keep Lizzy happier than I feel that I have. I'm not the greatest parent, I've had my fallouts. Once I found you, I was pissed for everything that happened but I got over it so fast that I didn't how to feel anymore, and I started... I started falling for you again, Christy. It's understandable if you don't feel the same way, I just had to get that off my chest."

Tears begin to leave the corners of her eyes and roll down her soft, rosy cheeks. "John," she cries softly. "I'm so sorry for everything I did to you. You never deserved that, and I always did love you. I still do. I still d-" Her sentence is cut off by a stifled cry, and she tries to stop herself but fails. I pull her into my shoulder as she softly sobs into it, as I whisper to her how much I still love her also. My head turns toward the stars and the night goes on.