Days of Love and Blood

ill. He stumbled and fell. I wasn’t aware. I looked behind to hear his screams as they descended upon him.
    “Run!” he screamed. “Carson, run! Save my boy! Save Ronan, Carson! Run!”
    Save MY boy , he said. It was a charge. A direct order. His last request. There was nothing I could do except act on his behest and run for the shelter. I stood there for a moment and watched the mob lunge on top of my beloved. I hesitated - cried out - screamed. If Ronan had not been in my arms, I would have gone back. I would have flung myself at them and covered his ailing body with my own to protect him for as long as possible. I would have died with him in a heartbeat. But I didn’t; I couldn’t. I had to save our child.
    That choice I made will be with me until the end. I knew I had to run. I couldn’t sacrifice our son just for the sake of wanting to die alongside my husband. I had a duty to protect my son. Our son. But that choice will haunt me forever. The choices we make define us. We base the interpretation of our entire existence upon decisions made in the past.
    Fighting with Ritchie about the R.V. was a bad choice. It was one of the only fights we were ever involved in. We finally had our finances in order. We began to see a good, solid and financially-sound future for the family. My business was growing and he was able to quit his job and help me full-time. We even had enough money for a nanny. But we were still trying to secure our future. The R.V. was a frivolous purchase and he had used our vacation fund. He didn’t warn me or discuss it with me. Ritchie just went out and bought it. If we had been more secure, I wouldn’t have been so mad.
    I didn’t make him return it or sell it. Instead I became passive-aggressive. A trait I learned from my mother. A trait I hate with a passion. I’ve tried to control it but this time the ugliness flew out of my mouth without restraint.
    “Car, I bought it for us.”
    “You mean you bought it for you. Change that. I bought it for you. It was my money!”
    “I know, Car - but this can be our vacation. We always talked about getting one of these in the future. We don’t need a fancy hotel vacation.”
    “Please. You didn’t give a shit about what I wanted. You weren’t thinking about the vacation I’ve been saving for. You were thinking about yourself.”
    “I was thinking about us, Carson. The vacation. And vacations after that.”
    “And did you think about the maintenance or the gas? Oh right, I’ll take care of that. Because I’m the one working my ass off over here to take care of the family. I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
    “Just give the idea a chance.”
    “Like I have a choice?”
    “Do you want me to take it back?”
    “Apparently, I have no say in the matter. You do whatever the fuck you want to do. You always do.”
    I never apologized for treating him that way. If he had treated me that way I would have sulked for weeks. Or fought back. I wasn’t sure because it never happened. In all of our years together, he never once treated me the way I treated him that night. I never got the chance to take it back.
    In the following days, t he virus exploded around us. It struck with the fury of an angry, overpopulated Gaia and within days, the human race was neatly wiped away, almost. The virus didn’t appear to have an origination point. There was no epicenter where the CDC could outline patterns of contagion or tell us how fast it would spread or where it would go. The virus was everywhere, all at once.
    During the first day, news alerts flashed through the television screens, warning people about a highly infection virus which had remained unidentified. On the second day there was panic when the virus claimed millions of lives. It was dubbed The Demon Virus . If anyone came down with a fever, they were urged to call the hospital immediately. All that day we heard sirens coming and going from our neighborhood. We heard screams. We locked the doors.
    The next day the newscasters spewed more news about millions of deaths. There weren’t enough medical professionals to handle the bodies. The dead were everywhere. They lined the roads, they were piled outside of mortuaries and lay on the floors of emergency rooms. But there was something more. Something about the ones who didn’t immediately die.
    On the fourth day, a weary newscaster read through transcripts he was receiving from doctors worldwide. He was the only one left on-air and vowed to