will it ever end!?

whats ganna happen?

chapter 5 - sam

The kids are playing quietly in another room. Sean and his squad are hanging out with Jamie, talking about how to deal with our captives in the locked classroom. They want to kill them right away, but Jamie wants to wait until the kids are gone. I agree completely. I’m impressed with how in charge Sean is now. He was pretty out of it before he left, all anger and pain. He seems… more centered, I guess.

Is there some magic guru guy in the wilderness that points people in the right direction? I can see him now, a mixture of Gandhi and Gandalf wandering around the plains, looking for people to guide to a higher plane of existence. A deep mystic voice, with a built in echo… “So, you lost your family to zombies, poor child. Perhaps you should rethink your priorities, focus on what you do have, not on what is gone. ” But I digress…

That haunted look is mostly gone from his eyes, my eyes since they are the same. Has it really only been a month since we fled from Laramie the first time? It feels like a lifetime. Erin told me she was pregnant before we left, before the outbreak. Sean had asked her to marry him and she said yes. He never said a word. I think that unborn baby was eating at him, slowly eating his soul from the inside out. I wish I’d been a better sister. I’ll never forgive myself for letting him go through that alone. I can’t believe how focused on myself I’ve been. I should stop before I make myself cry again. I am so over the crying crap. Sometimes I feel like it’s all I ever do anymore.

I’m going to go scout for some music stuff. I think I saw a guitar in one of the rooms upstairs. Maybe I could get Sean to play it for the kids. We could sing and have fun like we used to.

As I finish writing in my makeshift journal, I look up at my kids. Huh, get me, twenty-two years old with five; count them…five, kids ranging in age from four to ten. I’ve never even kept a fish alive for more than a week and I’m planning on getting five children through a zombie outbreak? I must be crazy. Then I see Molly looking up at me, trying hard to stay awake, her little thumb in her mouth, and I know that this is right. It’s like this is what I was meant to do. I walk over and give her a quick kiss on the forehead, smiling as she snuggles down and closes her eyes. More tears fill my eyes, but the good kind. She is so beautiful and precious, they all are and I get to share in that beauty every day.

I make my way upstairs and start checking out the empty rooms. They are filled with little desks, chairs, and notebooks. I grab a bunch of notebooks and some boxes of pens and pencils. Then look for some more reading material for the kids, as well as some textbooks. I figure since I’m not working and they have nothing to do, an education might be a good place to start. At least being able to read, write, and do some basic math would help them, what? Get a job? No, but if things stay like this, they can at least entertain themselves with books, write stories, and count the useless money lying around. They can learn to write letters, but there are no mail carriers to deliver them. Hmmm, I’ll have to think on this more.

As I wander through the maze of desks, I find myself wishing I weren’t alone, wishing that someone would be with me, holding my hand, sharing my life, all of it, even the bad things…especially the bad things. I let my fingers trail along the dusty desks as I walk. I wish…I don’t let myself even finish the thought. I have to move forward, not go back to the same old miserable rut in my life. I take a deep breath, and then start sneezing as the dust gets up my nose.

Now I have to laugh and if feels good. Seriously, all these heavy thoughts so easily interrupted by a sneezing fit. I feel better already and pick up the pace, suddenly excited to bring new ideas and learning experiences to the kids. I go through all of the classrooms until I hit the mother lode, the music room. There are small instruments of all kinds, conveniently in a box already. I move the box to the hallway and keep digging, hoping to find a guitar or bongo drums or something. I’m about to give up when I see it, hiding under an old pink cardigan sweater, propped up against the wall in the back corner of the room.