Days of Love and Blood

screamed from behind. We were tipping.
    I looked up and swerved the wheel right to catch the precarious lean. It worked and the R.V. slammed back down on four tires. I swerved again several times before we found steady wheels and once again I leaned into the accelerator.
    There were no more homicidals in front of me but I looked in every direction, wondering if there were any hanging on to the camper. I looked behind me quickly, searching every window for dangling limbs.
    “Ronan?” I screamed.
    “Mom!” he sobbed.
    “Are you okay? Get up here, baby. Let me see you.”
    He took his little quick steps to the front and sat down in the passenger chair, swinging his long thin legs around and pulling the belt around his chest. He was hyperventilating and shaking ferociously. I wish ed I could hold him. I wished I could be there for him when he needed me. But I was always doing something. When he needed my comfort the most, I was unable to give it to him because I was usually trying to save our lives. To make matters worse, he was trying to cope with the loss of his father, a wound still fresh in his nightmares. I wish Ritchie was here.
    “Are you okay?” I repeated. “Are you hurt, baby?” I screamed the words at hi m instead of using soft tones, still frantic from our near downfall.
    “No,” he whimpered. “Mom, I’m sorry!” he cried.
    “Oh, no, baby. Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”
    “I flushed the toilet; I didn’t know!”
    “It’s alright sweetheart. Not your fault, baby. Just remember - like we talked about, look around before you get up from sleep. Alright? Just take a second to look around and listen.”
    “I know. I don’t know why I didn’t. I had to pee, Mom. My eyes were still closed; I wasn’t thinking about anything.”
    “Well,” I said with a smile. “You know what that means, right?” Ronan shook his head and wiped his nose along the length of his arm while looking at me. “It means that you’re starting to feel safe again. It means that things are starting to get better.”
    “But they’re not!”
    “But they are, Ronan. What just happened now; that was a fluke. And things like that are happening less and less. Pretty soon, they won’t happen anymore.”
    “Are you sure, Mom?” Ronan looked at me with begging eyes. I wouldn’t lie to him. Lying is dangerous.
    “I’ m positive. Like I told you. They’re dying. Very soon, they’ll all be gone. If I didn’t think so, we wouldn’t have taken the chance on this trip. It will be soon, Ronan. They’ll all be gone soon. We just have to make it to the end.”
    Ronan bent over and touched his face to his knees. I could see his contorted face which was made even more apparent by his open mouth. Ronan was about to unleash. “I miss Daddy!” he wailed. From there he gripped the sides of his pants and bellowed out the sobs of a heartbroken child.
    “I know, baby. I do, too.” I reached out and rubbed his back slowly, gripping the bottom of his neck on every upturn. What I really wanted to do was pull over so I that could hold my son, but I couldn’t risk breaking our stride.
    “Who are you?” I asked. He only replied with another pitiful cry. “Who are you?” I asked again, louder and with a forceful tongue.
    “Ronan,” he said.
    “Who are you, Ronan?” I gently shook his shoulder and then pulled him up.
    “I’m Ronan!” he screamed. “Son of Richard the strong! Survivor of the Demon Virus and the end of the old world! I’m Ronan! I’m the beginning of the new world! I’m the strong and the strong survive!” He covered his face with his hands and continued to weep.
    “Tha t’s good, baby. You are strong; you’re so strong. I love you, Ronan. I love you so much.” I continued to rub his neck, shoulders and head, letting my hand glide over the smooth surfaces of his skin. A familiar sight made me sit up quickly and I pulled my hand away. I heard Ronan hold his breath at my sudden withdrawal.
    “Do you see that, baby?”
    “What?”
    “That blue silo over there.” I pointed to the periwinkle blue tower which jutted out in the distance just beyond a thicketed ridge to our left.
    “Yeah, I see it.”
    “We’re almost home. That silo has been there since I was a kid your age.” I turned and winked at him. “The neighbors hated it. They signed petitions to get the owner to repaint it.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it sticks out like a sore thumb. Look at it! It’s bright blue!” I made