Journal Entry

Mom says one of the strangest parts of the apocalypse is that people still have normal problems.

Dad spent forty minutes yesterday trying to find a replacement part for a lawn mower.

The world ended two years ago.

Apparently the grass didn't get the memo.

The morning started with Karen yelling.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Elliott asked.

"Because you're carrying six knives."

"They're different knives."

Karen stared at her.

Elliott stared back.

"That doesn't help your argument the way you think it does."

James stepped onto the porch carrying his bow.

Elliott immediately pointed at him.

"He has arrows."

"Arrows are not knives."

"They're basically flying knives."

Karen pinched the bridge of her nose.

John walked past carrying a coffee mug.

"I've decided not to get involved."

"Smart man," James said.

Maggie emerged from the house a moment later with her crossbow slung across her back.

Harry immediately noticed, "Perimeter check?"

"Maybe."

"Can I come?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I said no."

Harry frowned.

"That's not a reason."

"It's literally the only reason you need."

Jonas appeared behind him.

"I can come?"

"No."

"Why?"

James pointed at Harry.

"Same reason."

Jonas sighed dramatically.

"I live in a dictatorship."

"You live in Wisconsin."

"Basically the same thing."

John laughed into his coffee.

Karen looked exhausted already.

It wasn't even nine in the morning.

A half hour later James and Maggie were walking the fence line.

The summer air was warm.

Birds moved through the trees.

For a few minutes neither of them spoke.

It wasn't uncomfortable.

Just familiar.

The kind of silence that happened when two people had spent enough time together to stop feeling responsible for filling every moment.

Maggie adjusted the crossbow strap on her shoulder.

"You know Harry is going to complain all day."

"He complains when the weather changes."

"That's a good point"

"He'll survive."

"You sound exactly like your dad."

James groaned, "That's the worst thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Pretty sure zombie apocalypse ranks higher."

"Close second."

Maggie laughed.

The sound echoed through the trees.

For a moment the world felt normal.

Not safe.

Not fixed.

Just normal.

James had learned there was a difference.

They stopped near one of the trail cameras.

James checked the battery pack.

Everything looked good.

No signs of damage.

No signs of visitors.

The cameras had become their watchtowers.

Less dramatic.

More useful.

Maggie leaned against a tree.

"You ever think about college?"

James looked up.

"What?"

"College."

"Not really."

"You were supposed to go."

"So were you."

"Yeah."

Neither of them said anything for a moment.

The thought still felt strange.

Not painful anymore.

Just strange.

Like remembering a dream someone else had.

James closed the camera housing.

"I was going to study engineering."

"I remember."

"You?"

"Nursing."

"You would've been good at it."

Maggie smiled.

"You think?"

"You're already taking care of everybody."

"That's different."

"Not really."

She looked away.

The smile lingered.

They continued walking.

The woods stretched around them.

Green.

Quiet.

Alive.

Nature had adapted to the apocalypse much faster than people had.

Trees didn't care about governments.

Birds didn't care about civilization.

The world kept moving.

Humans were the ones struggling to catch up.

Maggie kicked a pinecone off the trail, "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends."

"That's not how questions work."

"Sure it is."

She rolled her eyes.

Then she hesitated.

Which immediately got James's attention.

Maggie rarely hesitated.

"What is it?"

She shrugged.

"Do you think people still date?"

James blinked.

"What?"

"Date."

"I heard the word."

"Then answer."

He stared at her.

Maggie looked entirely serious.

That somehow made it worse.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I haven't exactly been checking Tinder."

"Tinder doesn't exist anymore."

"See? Problem solved."

She laughed.

Then looked down at the trail.

"Seriously."

James thought for a moment.

"I guess they do."

"You guess?"

"I mean... people still get married."

"Do they?"

"Probably."

"Probably isn't very convincing."

"Neither is asking me relationship questions."

Maggie grinned.

"Agreed."

A few minutes passed.

Then she spoke again.

"Do you ever think about Abby?"

James sighed.

"There it is."

"There what is?"

"The real question."

Maggie smiled.

"Maybe."

He kicked a stick out of the path.

"Sometimes."

"Still?"

"Sometimes."

She nodded.

No teasing.

No jokes.

Just understanding.

"Ryan too?" James asked.

Her expression shifted. A little sadness. A little nostalgia.

"Sometimes."

"You still think about him?"

"Yeah."

The answer came quickly.

Honestly.

James appreciated that.

"I don't think that's weird."

"I know."

Another pause.

"He wasn't a bad guy."

James looked over.

"I know."

"He was just..."

"Gone."

Maggie nodded, "Yeah."

Gone.

The apocalypse had turned millions of people into unfinished sentences.

The trail curved around a stand of pines.

Sunlight filtered through the branches.

Maggie spoke quietly.

"We used to talk about the future."

James glanced over.

"Ryan and me."

"Oh."

She smiled faintly.

"The stupid stuff."

"What kind of stupid stuff?"

"Apartment."

"That's pretty normal."

"Dog."

"Still normal."

"Three kids."

James nearly tripped.

"Three?"

"Three."

"That's insanity."

"See? That's what Ryan said."

"Smart man."

She laughed.

The sound carried through the trees.

For a moment James could almost imagine a world where Ryan was still alive.

Where they were all worrying about classes and rent and jobs.

Instead of fences.

And traps.

And survival.

Maggie's smile faded.

"We talked about everything."

James nodded.

He understood.

Not because of Ryan.

Because of Abby.

Because when you were sixteen and seventeen and eighteen, talking about the future was its own kind of hope.

You made plans because you assumed you would be around to see them happen.

That assumption had disappeared for most people.

"You and Abby?" Maggie asked.

"Yeah."

"Everything?"

James shrugged.

"Mostly."

"Marriage?"

"Eventually."

"Houses?"

"Sure."

"Kids?"

James groaned.

"Apparently everyone wanted three kids."

Maggie laughed again.

"You too?"

"No."

"How many?"

"One."

"One?"

"One is reasonable."

"One is boring."

"Three is a hostage situation."

Maggie doubled over laughing.

The laughter died slowly.

Eventually she looked at him.

A little more serious.

"Aren't you scared to want things?"

The question landed harder than anything else she'd asked.

James looked down the trail.

The woods suddenly felt quieter.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Maggie searched for the words. "Every time somebody talks about next year or five years from now or whatever, part of me thinks it's stupid."

James listened.

"Because what if we don't get that?"

She looked embarrassed.

Like she'd said something wrong.

But she hadn't.

"I know what you mean."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Maggie nodded.

"I hate it."

"Me too."

They stood there for a moment.

Two teenagers discussing futures they weren't sure they were allowed to have.

A rustling sound interrupted them.

Both heads turned instantly.

Conversation vanished.

Training took over.

The movement came from the trees ahead.

Slow.

Uneven.

Dragging.

James already knew what it was.

Maggie did too.

A Sick stumbled from between the pines.

Female.

Middle-aged.

Gray skin stretched tight against bone.

Tattered clothes.

Empty eyes.

Alone.

James slowly reached for an arrow.

Then stopped.

He looked at Maggie.

She understood immediately.

Her expression changed.

Nervous.

Focused.

Scared.

Ready.

The crossbow came off her shoulder.

She loaded a bolt.

The Sick shuffled forward.

Twenty yards.

Fifteen.

Ten.

James remained silent.

He could make the shot in half a second.

But this wasn't his shot.

Maggie raised the crossbow. The weapon trembled slightly.

Not much.

Just enough.

James watched. Said nothing.

The Sick moved closer.

Its jaw clicked.

Its arms reached forward.

Maggie's finger tightened.

For a second James thought she might lower the weapon.

Instead she inhaled.

Steadied herself.

And fired.

The bolt struck the Sick squarely in the chest.

Not fatal.

The creature staggered.

Still moving.

Still coming.

Maggie's eyes widened.

James finally spoke.

"Again."

She reloaded.

Hands faster this time.

The second bolt flew.

The Sick collapsed.

Motionless.

Silence returned to the woods.

Neither of them moved.

The body lay ten feet away.

Still.

Maggie stared at it.

James let her.

Eventually she lowered the crossbow.

"I hit the chest."

"You did."

"I thought I had it."

"You almost did."

Maggie nodded slowly.

Then looked back at the body.

"I don't like this."

James followed her gaze.

Neither did he.

Not really.

Not after all this time.

Not after hundreds of kills.

The feeling changed.

It dulled.

But it never disappeared completely.

At least it shouldn't.

"Good."

She looked at him. "What?"

"Good."

James adjusted his bow. "The day you start liking it is the day I get worried."

For a second she simply stared.

Then she smiled. A small one.

Tired.

But real.

"You're kind of weird, James."

"I've been told."

"Frequently."

"Constantly."

That earned another laugh.

The tension eased.

Just enough.

They started walking back toward camp.

The trees swayed overhead.

The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves.

Maggie adjusted the crossbow on her shoulder.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I'm still going to have three kids."

James groaned.

"Why?"

"Because somebody has to keep civilization going."

"Three children is not civilization."

"It is if they're all annoying."

James shook his head.

"You've spent too much time with Elliott."

"That's true"

They continued down the trail.

Toward home.

Toward family.

Toward a future neither of them was completely sure existed.

But for the first time in a long time, both of them were willing to imagine it anyway.