Humanity Gone After the Plague - By Derek Deremer Page 0,2

the horrific events of this last month. We ask everyone to remain calm throughout the dark days ahead. To the young viewers, it will be okay. People are working around the clock to create a plan for you. Stay calm, and await help.” She pauses momentarily, seemingly out of words. “May God be with all of you. Good-bye.”

A tear flows down the side of her cheek as her composure finally gives in during her final words. She begins to cough. Then all of a sudden the television goes blank and an eerie pitch yells from the speakers. I fumble for the remote and turn it off. I feel Jocelyn's hand rest on the top of my head. Her fingers clench my hair tighter than she realizes. It hurts, but I don't say a word.

“What are we going to do?” she says. Her voice seems to be devoid of any emotion. I turn my head up and see her hazel green eyes between the bangs of red hair. Tear stains line her pale cheeks. These stains have not left since dad became sick. She keeps disappearing into her room and comes back with bloodshot eyes. She’s a year younger than me, but she wants to look strong for me. I don't know how to answer her. I have been trying to figure out a plan ever since the news suggested yesterday that 99% of America's adults would be dead by the end of next week. No more cops, firefighters, doctors, or utility workers. I know that we need a plan.

The city is going to become chaos, and I don't want to be around when it all falls apart.

A piercing, explosive ring rises above the murmur of the streets below. It’s too late to avoid the chaos, I guess. It wasn’t the first gunshot we have heard in the past few weeks. I wonder if that was a shot meant to kill. The thought forces me to close my eyes and exhale completely. I don’t know if I could ever justify taking a life.

“Jon,” Jo's voice snaps me out of it, “what the hell are we going to do?”

“I'm working on it.”

“Well can you clue me in just a little?” Her shortness with me begins. Ever since all of this chaos started we have been getting along.

“We are going to need to get out of here. Apparently some parts of the city have already lost power and water,” I respond. Yesterday, when I walked to the hospital, crowds of people in the streets described how parts of the city were deteriorating.”

“Let’s start thinking of what to do.” She pauses, looks down, and then back up to me. “I know the news says we should be okay, but do you think one of us could get sick?”

Her eyes go back to dad's bedroom. The thought of losing him has been thrown to the farthest recesses of my mind.

“I hope not.”

Chapter 2: Jonathon

I shut the door and lock it with my sister around my left arm. Dad had passed away in the night and we just finished our goodbyes. We didn't know where to take him. 911 was busy every time we had tried to call in his last few hours. I never imagined feeling so alone in the middle of a city. Outside, the world seems to be getting louder and louder; it is the deafening sound of death striking home after home. When I look down from the sixteenth story of our apartment complex, I see crowds swarming the streets. Our neighbors on either side have remained silent. Either they are dead or have already left the city. I guide my sister to the dining room table, her unfinished cake still before her. As dad became worse and worse, she never left his side and her project remained unfinished. Inhaling, I barely make out the smell of the frosting, still waiting to be decorated.

I walk to the window and press my forehead against the glass. The orange glow of morning lights up the streets and the masses of people below. Cars honk, people yell, and there seem to be a few dead bodies just lying alongside some buildings. No, they must be just resting. How could people just leave someone dead alongside a building? They can’t be dead and just lying there. My eyes twitch back and forth. My hand, unbidden, rises to my face to wipe away the tears that I anticipate. But none surface. As I force my hand slowly