Never Give Up: A Novel

CHAPTER 7: Gone

Lauren walked through the doorway and out into the touch of the crisp, cool morning air caressing her cheek, damp with tears. Her head was parallel to the ground and her eyes traced the movement of her feet walking slowly down the steps. Her mother and sister followed behind her, closing the door, ending the repeated coughs that resounded throughout the house. The atmosphere was then serene and quiet- the rain had finally ceased from drenching the Earth. The group sauntered slowly down the pathway and out onto the street. As they neared the rusted gate, Lauren peeked up over her line of vision, and froze in place, choking back a sob. In the distance, within the perimeters of the quarantine, men wearing white suits that covered their entire bodies and were adorned with a breathing apparatus carried in limp figures on stretchers. They came in one by one, still with the kiss of death.

 After the Shut-Down, as a protocol to prevent further spread of the infection and the overcrowding of cemeteries, funerals were changed from bodies being buried beneath the ground to mass graves set for cremation. Friends and family members who had the stomach to watch were allowed to view the process on the respective sides of Chamber 1, combining both the wake and the funeral into one cohesive event.

There was only one exception to the rule: those that died from natural causes were allowed to be laid to rest peacefully. However, perishing from old age had become rare and a feat if achieved. Many of the original of the infected were the young and the elderly, whose immune systems were far too weak to combat the virus. Thus, the mass cremations became more and more common- almost normal.

Lauren and her family stopped as they approached the crowd of onlookers. Lauren grimaced as she saw the Dorchadas family standing at the front of the crowd on the opposite side of the field. The vast expanse of land between her and the Dorchadas made it difficult to see, but it was clear that Mrs. Dorchadas, who was normally as stiff and serious as a statue, had been worn down to a crying mess. Her body convulsed with every sob as she buried her face into her husband’s shoulders, the tears soaking the epaulettes on Mr. Dorchadas military uniform.  Lauren bit back her own tears by chewing on her lip behind the mask.

Lauren pushed through the throng to until she reached the gate. She couldn’t let herself position herself on the outskirts without saying one last goodbye to her friend. It was what she deserved. Because although people had told her countless times, she could not shake the feeling that it was her fault her friend was dead. Everything could have been prevented, she concluded in her head, if she had just had the courage, the strength to say a simple “no”.

“Gallagher, Joseph!” The undertaker called out in a booming voice. He stood in the center of Chamber 1, wearing a Hazmat suit similar to the men who were carrying it the bodies. The only difference is that he had his hood down and a normal mask on so that his voice could be heard.

The first body- Joseph. The name sounded familiar to Lauren. She then remembered that Joseph had sat across from her in History class before the Shut-Down, and that it was his brother who was the first student to succumb to the virus. Lauren sighed somberly- he was the last in his family to die. She was surprised he had lasted so long.

Gradually, the pile grew bigger as each new victim was brought in. It sickened her to watch how, at the final minute, you were lowered to an almost animal like status- the bodies being thrown carelessly one on top of another. Some of the onlookers left, who she assumed were family members and friends who couldn’t bear to watch their loved ones be reduced to ash. All they needed was to see their face one last time, unscathed and at peace finally.

She stood there for what felt like an eternity as the names were called out one by one. “Kinlaw, Evelyn! Sullins, Jeremy! Halbert, Anne! Peabody, Chris!” Peers, colleagues, mailmen, shopkeepers, bosses- all gone.

Then, the last name was read on the undertaker’s list.

“Dorchadas, Samantha!”

Lauren drew a quick uptake of breath. She heard Mrs. Dorchadas wail in agony, and clutch the gate, trying to get to her daughter, to kiss her, to hug her one final time. But it was fruitless and she fell back into her husband’s arms, digging her face into his chest. Sam’s little brother clutched his mother’s leg.

She flinched as she felt a soft palm on her shoulder. Lauren turned her head and saw it was her mother.

“Do not hold it in, honey. Everyone is sharing in the sadness today.”  She flashed a small smile. Lauren could tell from the dark blush of her mother’s face and the sheen of wetness that her mother had already done her mourning.

Lauren nodded, but the tears refused to come. Instead, a small one fell down her cheek. 

She watched as Sam was carried in on a stretcher. The wounds and bruises that had covered her body were covered in layers of gauze- there was no need to show the markings of her downfall. Like all of the dead, she wore a simple blue hospital gown. Her blond hair fell around her face and caressed it neatly. It was as though Sam was only asleep, that she was going to spring to life, and tell everyone it was all a joke. But her eyes stayed shut over her hazel eyes as the men dumped her on top of the heap.

She heard sound of a can of gasoline being poured as she shut her eyes, unable to look.

“May each and every victim rest in peace in the eternal glory of Heaven.”

The whoosh as the rush of oxygen being depleted from the air- The fire had begun. At the start, the smll of smoke merely tickled her nose. Then, the odor grew stronger as the smoke became more furious as the fire licked the bodies of the dead. Even though her eyes were closed, she could tell what was happening.

Finally came the familiar scent of decaying bodies. She could not take it, knowing that Sam was in the flames. She opened her eyes and ran, ran until her legs burned with pain. She had no clue what direction she was heading in, but was glad to get away from the cremation. Eventually, when she could no longer push herself, she came to a halt and bent over to catch air. When she looked up, she realized she was standing in front of the old high school, each window boarded off and every entrance covered with police tape screaming “BIOHAZARD. DO NOT ENTER.” The area was abandoned and extremely quiet.

 She sauntered to the front steps and sat down, bringing her knees up to her chest. She began to weep -Weep for the world she no longer recognized and where it wasn’t worth it to keep going on. One day, she would be exactly like Sam.

Gone.