a postcard story about being the last one left on earth...
Day 17: I found a damn near pristine Bugatti in some rich guyâs garage. A cul-de-sac off Washington in that unachievable suburb of Trenton â tons of McMansions, like embarrassingly many. Only three with pools. Itâs funny that all the signs at the gas stations tell me that self-serve is illegal, as though waiting at a pump long enough will summon an attendant from⊠heaven, I guess? Iâm not sure I believe in heaven, but I certainly believe in hell now. I didnât think it could get harder than losing mom. I really thought at the time that that would be the worst thing I would have to live through but all I did was jinx it. Iâm gonna try taking 80 out to wherever the fuck 80 ends to see if I can find communities of survivors. Weird to write those words, in every zombie novel ever itâs all about the Communities Of Survivors as though theyâre a given. With the internet down I donât know shit. I check houses for radios when I can, but even if I found someone with a niche interest in ham radio I wouldnât know how to work the thing. I donât even know what they look like, but I played a video game once that relied on ham radio as part of the plot and I remember what that setup looked like, so Iâm looking for that. In the meantime I have a sweet-ass ride for the drive.
Day 68: Decided to name the âyota Stella, like the way Elaine screamed it in Seinfeld. Adelina always wanted a hybrid, and Iâve been recreating Seinfeld plots in the car recently. Can only do comedy lately, since doing funny voices keeps me company. The answer is I got tired of getting like 10 miles to the fucking gallon because my whole life Iâve been told to save the environment and Iâm still trying to save it even though what is there to save? Nothing in Philly or Pittsburgh, but the bodies seemed fresher in Cleveland. In a way Iâm glad I was at the epicenter. It would have been worse watching the news to hear about the death tolls on the east coast and have to know that it was coming before it got there. But maybe the electrical grid went down before they had much to fear. I found a ham radio in a forgettable town off 80, McEwensburg, on Dodds Street. Some prepperâs fucking bunker, much good it did them. The smell was terrible but hopefully it gets better over time. I didnât bother to clean. It wasnât portable but it had a handbook on how to use it. Spent a week sending help signals, played The Killers through an old boombox when I couldnât talk anymore, not sure if the microphone picked it up but no one responded. So the Communities of Survivors donât have a ham radio nerd in their numbers. Understandable. I wonder how theyâre preventing infection? I donât think itâs bloodborne because I would have fucking got it in the first days. Same with airborne. At this point it might just be some epigenetic signal that switched on a gene I donât happen to have, but Iâm pretty sure whatever I do or donât have, statistically Iâm not the only one.
Day 94: Itâs rotten everywhere. I spent nearly a month in Chicago and all I saw was bodies and the Bean. Badly decomposed. You could mistake them for animal carcasses if it wasnât for the clothes. My mantra is theyâre just deer in pants and it doesnât work and I fucking wish it worked because everyone is already FUCKING DEAD. And the deaths arenât fucking fast either. In the dorms it was at least a few days between the first hallucinations and the bleeding. James and Eric took a week. Adelina was an outlier. She was convinced her grandpa was trying to teach her to tango in the afternoon and was soaking into the living room carpet by midnight. I found a map in one of the rest stops that says 80 goes all the way to the Pacific and I think Iâm just wasting time now. Iâll try the west coast and if that doesnât work Iâm going to the Yukon or something to die so future archaeologists wonder what the fresh fuck I was doing driving a Toyota Prius in the middle of nowhere.
Day 128: Iâm somewhere past Cheyenne, passed a sign that said 245 miles to Salt Lake a few days ago. I wish people had the decency to pull over when the bleeding started. Lot of trucks, and a surprising number of passenger cars. They must have had the same thought I did: get as far away from the epicenter as possible. Or maybe just going to Actual Buttfuck Nowhere, thinking that they can escape. The smell is better since baking in the sun really helps kill bacteria but itâs harder to figure out how long theyâve been here. Back in Newark at a gas station there was a man, an old Sikh guy in a neon-yellow uniform, nametag said Yadvir, he thought I was his wife and kept telling me he loved me, he loved me, he loved me, he was so sorry. I left when his tears started turning red. I wish I would have stayed and comforted him, told him I loved him too and treated him like he mattered because he was the last person I saw alive. Because the worst that could have happened was I caught this and died and I donât think that would be so bad anymore because I havenât seen someone alive in four months now and I might be the last person alive. It got the animals too and thatâs the worst part because if dogs or birds or even spiders were immune I would have something to hold on to even though spiders are kinda gross but it would have been something. Bacteria seem to be okay because the bodies are decomposing but there arenât any flies on the bodies or the vegetables in the stores, thereâs nothing else moving but me and whateverâs light enough to move in the wind.
Day 193: I couldnât cross the bridge in San Francisco because there were too many cars so I crossed it on foot. Parked the Toyota at a windsurfing business. Itâs nice to hear the ocean after so much silence. Nothing broadcasting on the car radio, no city noises, no birdcalls, though I did sleep in an apartment near a clocktower in Salt Lake City that scared the crap out of me when it chimed the first time. Those Mormons sure know how to wind a fucking clock. The ocean is noisy and lively and doesnât depend on humans to give it life and itâs nice to see something alive.
Day 221: Started going south on 1 to stay close to the coast. There arenât any fish and I tried windsurfing and almost drowned which would have sucked if I was the last person on earth because what a stupid way to die. Adelina was from Brazil and I never got to meet her family and I donât know how to find them but I figure if this is genetic then I should go somewhere with different genes.
Day 274: I stayed on the coast as long as I could but eventually the passable roads went central and I lost sight of the water. Slept on the beaches as much as I could. The map says Iâm in Panama and I was dumb to think I could just drive on a nice, well-maintained highway straight to Manaus because I forgot that the jungle existed. I forgot that the literal Amazon rainforest existed. Itâs times like these that I miss social media because this would be a deeply funny tweet. Anyway I left Stella in the shade and I realized that Iâve been locking the car out of habit every time I leave it and thereâs no one left to take it. I wish someone would steal the damn Prius so I knew that there was anyone else out there. Anyway Iâm setting out on foot because Adelina always wanted her family to meet her beautiful wife and I never believed her that I was beautiful. Iâve seen her a few times in my dreams but sheâs always dancing or bleeding and I canât remember what her face looks like even though I have pictures of her with me I canât picture her face when I close my eyes.
Day 312: Thank Christ and Iâm sorry I ever doubted that some higher power would never let this happen because I found Luis, and he doesnât speak English and I took two years of Spanish in high school and I remember next to nothing but heâs here. Apparently the rainforest wasnât kidding because I got caught in a flash flood and almost died again but this would have been a little cooler at least and when I woke up he was wrapping an ankle that I canât stand on and my head was throbbing but heâs here. Itâs raining now and heâs ten feet away starting a fire and I canât hear anything over the sound of the rain and the earthworms below me filtering the leaf litter into rich earth. From what I can gather he was in the rainforest hunting because he has some rats with spots in a backpack that he must have snared because he doesnât have a gun or anything and there must be others because I heard a bird just now and that means that this place wasnât affected. Maybe this wall of water and trees is a natural blockade against the infection and maybe all of South America has survived maybe God decided enough was enough. Maybe weâre going to be okay and I can find Adelinaâs parents and tell them she loves them and misses them and tells me so much about them that I could pick them out of a lineup.
Day 314: God I missed meat that isnât canned and preserved to within an inch of its life. Weâve been eating fresh meat and some roots I donât know what theyâre called but they grow in the dirt under the mossy side of the trees. For two days weâve been eating fresh foods and Iâve been eating canned goods for the past year and I didnât realize how much I missed real food that wasnât just about surviving. And I was right about this forest being safe from infection because I can hear footsteps of animals and their calls and cries and footprints in the mud and when I tell Luis that I wonât be able to help him hunt because the most I can see of the animals that live here is the flash of a tail before they bound through the underbrush and he just laughs and laughs. I canât walk very well.
Day 315: Adelina Iâm so sorry. I love you and Iâm so sorry I forgot. Your parents came to see me and they love you and they love me and I gave them your picture and they left and I canât get them to come back and Iâm sorry I couldnât tell them anything more about your death because it was horrendous and they donât need to know about that but theyâre beyond hurting now but I still canât tell them. I love you and Iâm so sorry and Luis is gone and he was never here and I was wrong Adelina Iâm so sorry I was wrong and Iâm in the forest in New Jersey and you would love the vaulted ceilings and the incredible green of the leaves Adelina because you were beautiful and you loved beautiful things and you thought I was beautiful and I wonât forget that I keep forgetting everything else but I wonât forget that. My nose just started bleeding and I hope I donât have long because Iâve decided that I believe in heaven after all because I want to see you again and if I believe I will I will I will see you soon Adelina I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love



















