I dredged my memory for anything, but came upon images of tragedy and echoes of screams from people I knew, liked, and loved.
Following the stories and tales from Zed Zane and Murphy Smalls for what feels like an eternity, I finally find myself standing at the finality of the series, and it feels like I’ve said goodbye to close friends. Sitting through their hardships, the battles and obstacles they overcame and battled from the very beginning; it’s bittersweet seeing their resting place in Balmorhea, Texas After so long. The dynamic duo lost nearly everything countless times but never once truly lost who they were or whom they were risking it all for. With comedic after thoughts and tense, tear jerking moments this series found it’s way to become a mesmerizing adventure and one I wish wasn’t quite over with. For truth be told, both Murphy and Zed leas tales in their wakes not soon forgettable.
Murphy said, “You’re breathing that funny way you do when you’re stewing about something.”
“What?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Like a little white troll, snorting and huffing.”
I shook my head. “Whatever.”
“You can’t hide in your troll hole forever.” Murphy grinned. He loved his sense of humor. “Spill it.”
As the Naked Hoard and the Survivor Army looked deeper and deeper into the past, finding those still loving and with uninfected brains proved a harder reality then one ever could of imagined. Some recovered from the fevers and corresponding comas and awoke hungry with a desire for warm flesh while others maintained a pale skin color and a normality intact. Others could awaken with a dull, childlike innocent that required guidance to surivive. For few, whether it’s spelled luck or not could survive with their normal skin tones and no true side effects from the virus that took the world to its knees. With so many they’ve comes to love and trust lost behind in the bloodshed, pulling together meant everything to the shell shocked survivors who were willing to take on anything to see just one more sunrise and sunset.
Null Spot the Destroyer was dead. He died of a daunted heart in an introspective moment when nobody was looking.
“You were snorting like an angry little pug.” Murphy knew I was lying.
No whites were nearby. Some were still moving away, looking over their shoulder, getting away from the Null Spot. They sensed that I was going to detonate.
With the closure upon them, they discovered new comrades aging the way and in time they too faded from the view finder. Martin, a retired Pilot whose entire existence post-virus was hunted solely on his value to the Survivor Army proved his loyalty to Zed after some time and with his death in the helicopter crash still raw, aided his sacrifice in keeping the others safe and alive. Reunified with Fritz, Grace and Jazz from earlier tales, the tight knit community of survivors held onto hope of finding the remains eleven of their group, lost amongst the pecan orchards in rural Texas. As the weeks drafted forward and limits we’re ultimately reached, the group stumbled into Balmorhea with little hope left inside of finding Rachel, Gretchen, and Dalhover until spotting the armored Humvees and getting the ultimate shock of his life.
Dalhover looked towards the Humvees again, drawing my eyes in that direction. Walking towards us, with pale skin, green eyes, flaming red hair blowing in the breeze, looking bewildered, was Steph.
Alive with her fair share of scars, abrasions, and healing wounds was Steph, somehow still with a heartbeat despite the illusion of her death weeks prior. At a loss of words, the world before his fell aside as he stared into her eyes, captivated that the love he felt for her, The one he regretted losing most of all stood before him, more alive then he imagined. As her fever bore down, she fought solo for survival, never forgetting the place they set to meet up, hoping and praying that everything couldn’t possible be lost. With both believing the other two of perished that night at Lake Travis, the shock they experienced felt raw and tender as the two finally stumbled into the other. Admitting his feelings of love and adoration to her, Both would discover the world for what it was becoming. Hope he’ll quicker to their veins, and as the groups rejoiced and joined together, Steph and Zed could finally begin their own journey to see where it’ll leave them in the long run.
Was the act of forgetting the dead and forgetting the grief one of the tricks of keeping one’s sanity? Whatever is was, it wasn’t fair, and nobody gave a shit about that either. We were breathing. They weren’t. And that’s the way it goes.
“I’ve had more swinging dick time than anybody.”
“Swinging dick time?” Murphy laughed. “Is that what you call it when you run around naked with the Whites?”
I was where I belonged, surrounding myself in a fragile illusion of immortality that expanded with each splash of warm blood around my boots.
It felt like we were taking the maintenance entrance to the devil’s outhouse.
As I struggled to get from underneath Him, I was irritated - creeped out at the feel of a doughy old man sweating all over me. “Dammit, Martin.”