The Last Human
The Last Human
Chapter 2: Goodbye Quaint Home of Mine
I had been lying awake for hours watching the rain patter and tap against the skylight as it illuminated the feelings within me. The thunder cut through the siren's blazing that had become white noise to my ears. It was old news in dead times. I didn't even care what the sirens meant anymore. Tornado or air raid; those were my options. Neither option was something I was particularly fond of, but as I had heard these sirens dozens of times over the course of the last four months they mattered not. What mattered was that my parents had been taken, and not by Death himself but by our government, which I am less fond of than Death.
I stared at the picture of them on my nightstand. It hurt to look at. They were smiling and jovial, but my heart still panged. I allowed myself a brief smile as I remembered them outside of the still frame that captured them so well. I remembered them telling me once that when I was born I "came out smiling and laughing and unapologetic of the pain I'd caused." I remembered the oddly knowing look that seemed to constantly reside in the gray eyes of my mom Lindsay and the always-genuine smile of my mom Samantha. But they were just memories. I'd never see them again. A week had passed since I'd last had that opportunity, and each night I lay in bed waiting for the crooks that stole them to come for me. They would eventually come, and I, with no choice, would follow in my parents' molded footsteps to one of the camps strewn throughout our land.
I rolled over and glared at the T.V. not daring to turn it on. No matter what channel my thumb chose I'd read about how a Muslim terrorist did this or China did that. They always seemed to let us know when the extreme version of Islam did something, but never seemed to remember the good things the regular Muslims did or the positive things Chinese people stood for. Nope. They never mentioned the first virus anymore either even though the U.S. claims they created the cure for it. They always seem to conveniently forget about that one; just seem to skip right over it. But I remembered. I remembered China claiming we'd released the first one and I remember my parents looking at me, the gray eyes of my mom Lindsay and the ice blue of my mom Samantha.
"Why would we release a virus?" I had asked.
They looked at each other then, deciding if I was old enough. "This virus harms people, Clay."
"So.. they did it to kill people?"
"They did it to spare the resources of the world while killing people."
I didn't respond immediately. "Do you think we actually did it?"
"Don't include yourself in that, Clay," Lindsay had said, sternly. "We are not involved."
"Do you think our government did it then?"
"It's hard to know for sure, Clay. It's possible."
"Which is a testament to how much we think of our own government," Samantha had said, cutting in. "Hundreds of millions have died worldwide and we think it's possible we created it."
"Don't forget other countries are accusing each other as well. Most of the Middle East is accusing Israel because the death tolls were highest in China, India, and Middle Eastern nations."
"In a few years you will understand what this means," Samantha told a fourteen year old me. "Because in a few years, if China actually believes this, then China will have its revenge."
I remember looking to my mom Lindsay and her bright gray eyes, which were not nearly as apathetic looking as you may think.
"These are trying times ahead, Clay. Learn what you can now, because things will get even messier soon. Remember we love you."
I found it odd then, that they were so worried and that they seemed to refer to China as a singular entity. But I knew we were fine. We were the most powerful country in the world and yet, the look in their eyes that night still sends chills down my spine.