May 26th

Like schoolchildren waiting for recess, they lined up in front of the only exit door that was viable. The clock counted down.

Edward seemed the most enthusiastic, waiting to go to find his family. It was a six-hour drive that he hoped to begin right away. He had to go first; he had gasoline stored at the house.

If, of course, the house was still there.

Andy stood with Del and carried a small pack over his shoulder. It was from Chad.

"There are sixty more days of the medication in there," Chad told Andy. "After that I can't guarantee if the stutter will come back or if you'll be able to get more. Perhaps you'll be lucky and find some marijuana."

"Doesn't matter," Andy replied. "I'll deal." He was excited. His stomach twitched in hopefulness and fear, and then the counter reached zero.

The buzz went through him like an electric shock. There was a hiss as Edward reached for the door. It opened.

The journey topside was no less than eighteen flights of stairs, a marathon of exercise Del and Andy were more than ready for.

The others were not. They stumbled and stopped, rested, then moved. Andy and Del ended up leading the way. The staircase led to the far end of the employee-parking garage. That was where Edward hoped the car would be, a car left there by Martha.

Andy wasn't even winded when he reached the top, Del right at his side. He looked over the banister and hollered down. "I'm gonna go check it out. Stay put. We just don't know." He then turned to Del and told him to hang tight, and Andy alone opened that final door.

There was a spring smell to the air, and it wasn't what Andy expected. He prepared for a raw smell, death, maybe even burning. But nothing.

The dead had pa.s.sed on long enough beforehand that they left no smell.

Dust was thick on the remaining cars in the lot. He ran his fingers across them as he raced toward the sunlit entrance of the garage.

Already, before he even arrived, the daylight hurt his eyes. He took a few steps, paused, moved, and paused again.

Inching his way into the sun, Andy let his eyes adjust. They watered and burned; soon the blurry vision left, and he stepped into the street.

It wasn't a wise move because Andy didn't know what awaited them.

Nothing.

Empty streets, quiet like he had never experienced. Not a bird, animal ... nothing.

"h.e.l.lo!" he called out loudly.

His voice echoed back.

He tried again. "h.e.l.lo!"

Not a roll of a can, a scuffle of movement, only silence. The sky was blue, the early morning sun was bright, and the temperature warm. Andy went back to the garage.

It was time to tell the others they could come out; there was no danger because there was nothing.

Edward kept the battery as charged as he could in the facility and was able to start the car with ease. After it charged some, he jump-started other cars. They were the first to pull out of the garage. Andy drove, because Edward's eyes were having trouble adjusting.

Andy and Del said their goodbyes to Chad, and promised to return or find a way to contact him.

Chad had no idea where he'd end up, but he said he'd leave word at his home, and gave Andy and Del the address.

Edward didn't want to waste the gas to drive Andy and Del to the outskirts of Atlanta. They would try to find a vehicle outside of town; if unable to do so, they'd walk.

Andy was certain they'd find transportation eventually. Many people died. Many cars were left and gas buried in the ground at defunct fueling stations.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to Virginia with me?" Edward asked. "It's wonderful property."

Andy shook his head. "No, I have to go to Lincoln. I left something there I have to get."

"Nothing is left," Edward told him.

"I'm certain that this is left," Andy said.

"Del?" Edward asked.

"I go where he goes. As much as we hated each other, he's all I got."

Edward nodded, and then he wished them good luck.

Andy and Del began their journey. They had food and water and would ration as best as they could. They walked all morning and into the afternoon.

Somewhere around three, a pickup truck stopped and asked them if they needed a ride. It was the survivor Andy and Del had seen since they left the facility!

When the older man asked where they were going, he laughed at the response of Montana.

He told Andy and Del he would take them as far as Alexandria, Virginia, but that was where he stopped.

They accepted and got in the truck.

Their first run-in with a survivor was good, and Andy hoped it was an informative trip.

Chad was quiet on the ride to his house. Carl, who lived in an apartment building nearby, drove Chad to his home.

Atlanta's downtown was desolate, but it wasn't completely devoid of people. They saw a few, but not many as they left the confines of the city.

Chad's neighborhood was upscale, and he knew as soon as he turned onto his street that looters had already hit the neighborhood.

Houses were burned, windows broken, belongings strewn in the street.

Chad's house was not immune. His front door was open, his couch on the front lawn.

"Maybe I should go in with you," Carl said.

"No, wait here. Can you?" Chad asked. "I want to check the safe room."

Carl nodded.

"Hopefully, if she isn't there, she left a note or something." Chad stepped from the car and walked the path to his home.

It had been vandalized, pictures knocked from the wall, papers everywhere. At first glance, he could see that every drawer was open. They came for food. Chad walked up the stairs.

There was an odd smell to his house. Musty, sour, but it wasn't a fresh smell. Chad's gut instinct told him that something was wrong.

The safe room was located at the back of the master bedroom closet, but Chad didn't need to go into the safe room to find Belinda.

She didn't go into the safe room at all.

Her body was so decomposed that it was evident she had been dead for months. It also was clear she didn't die of the plague. A portion of her head was missing. A huge brown stain of blood formed a halo around the saturated pillow, and the gun was still in her hand.

She had taken her own life.

He had some sense of sadness, but a part of him knew. When he hadn't spoken to her and she hadn't answered the phone, he knew, even though he'd hoped she had gone into the safe room.

Chad covered her, took a moment, and said goodbye. He then gathered a few pictures from the home, some clothes, and he left.

Rollin, Virginia

Edward used the last five-gallon can of gas just before he turned up the mountain road. That was it; that was all he had. The only redeeming feature was the small town ten miles before. He saw a few people there and a sign that said 'gas for food'.

Edward had that and something more valuable. The cure.

The plan was his wife and children, along with Edward's mother, would go to the house, a cottage deep in the hills and stocked with a year's supply of food and well water.

It was far enough away from civilization that as long as his wife and children left before exposure and stayed away, they would be safe.

He would be lying to himself if he thought for sure everything was fine. Truth was, Edward was scared. Scared to death that he'd arrive and find his entire family dead.

The road was overgrown, and the last mile was quiet.

He pulled through the open gate and saw the SUV parked in front of the house. It was 'weather' dirty, and weeds grew up almost to the tires. The car hadn't been moved or touched.

The curtains were drawn; there were no signs of life.

It was a beautiful day; surely the children would be out playing.

Edward turned off the car and paused for a moment. He prayed and then gathered the courage to go to the house. The step creaked as he placed his foot on it. He didn't want to call out because he didn't want silence to be the answer.

Edward reached for the door. Before he even touched the k.n.o.b, the door opened and his wife Donna cried out.

He couldn't take it all in as his children cried out, "Daddy," and grabbed on to his legs as he grabbed his wife.

He didn't think beyond that moment. Edward hadn't a clue what the next step would be. He'd think about it... later. For that moment, he was happy. His family was alive, and, well, that was all that mattered to Edward.

Alexandria, VA

The pickup truck driver was a nice enough fellow. More than being nice, he was informative to Andy and Del on the five-hour trip.

His name was Ben, and he was from Sarasota, Florida, one of the last places in the United States to be hit with the Black Hartworth, the name they gave to the germ that swept the country and eventually the world.

Andy loved the information Ben provided. Ben lost his entire family, except an uncle, in the Black Hartworth. He said people fled the West Coast and unfortunately brought the virus, and then they came south. They lost the news, then the internet, then the power. Radio was still operational two hours a day through FEMA broadcasting networks.

Even though Andy and Del had radio in the facility, being so far underground made it worthless. So no one in the CDC facility heard the FEMA broadcast.

News came that China had a cure, but it was going to take months.

"Gotta understand," Ben told them, "This China cure thing came at the end, when people were desperate and worn. That's when the Atlanta riot began. People stormed the CDC, and then things kind of just ... fizzled."

Ben explained that the United States, like every other country, lost its sustainability and structure. Forget financial. That all went to the wayside. Everyone concentrated on rebuilding, sustaining life, and then reconnecting.