Time Is Up

Was it a wrathful ancient god? Some demonic entity? Or had our time simply run out? We’ll never know, now. Not that it makes much of a difference.

It was cruel fate that this started the day after Halloween, the fun exhilirating terror of our myriad man-made frights being replace by true fear and real horror. There was no infection vector, no possibility of containing it. People just started to change. Bits of flesh falling off. Gums retreating. Eyes going dark. Then the aggression, like a rabid animal. They wouldn’t transmit the disease, but they would kill you. And if you escaped, eventually you would change too. No heroic holdout. Certainly no rebuilding of civilization.

My sister began to cry as I told her that dad was gone. Then I did. We sat in a darkened basement and felt hopeless. It was all that anyone could do. Waiting for the end. One last time, I turned on the radio and carefully went around the dial. Nothing but static. We both stared at the revolver on the table. No sense delaying any longer.

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