For Children of Sands

And I can see your soft reflection like a ghost in the mirror
And I would do whatever I could for a chance to have you here
And be home again
Now that you’re gone I can see that I was wrong

The course into Amarillo, Texas provided an exquisite tour of what should’ve been done as the inevitable apocalypse had been announced. On the outskirts of Amarillo there were remains and scatterings of houses, churches and farms. They were plotted along side the interstate and looked out south on pale, beige, morbid prairies. The lands looked dry to the bone. But here, the survivors carried on living their lives in peace. If the adult survivors had not carried any visible weapons, it could’ve been said that the virus had not touched these lands, that they we’re free of the curse that had stained the rest of humanity.

As the gang passed this scatter of life, Andy took a glance with bewilderment as children played in the front yards of their homes. Completely innocent and vulnerable. At the rear of the group, Ash shared the same look. This populations confidence of their safety could have been explained that left and right - and at every point of the compass - these dust blotted lands were empty of anything except for just that: the dust bowls, cracked dry soil and tall yellow grasses.

By what Andy assumed was nine o’clock in the morning they paused on the interstate to the let the engines of their motorcycles cool down and to replenish their gas tanks. It also gave Andy a moment to enjoy the growing cool breeze, free of the stench of death decay and the screams of the rotting.

They hoped that before the midday high temperatures would brink, that Amarillo would be reached. Despite the constant oncoming winds that ripped through their clothes at eye watering speeds, it wasn’t easy to sport thick leather and denim in the middle of summer but it was worth the sweat as the tough, durable fabric had saved their lives countless times, as well as preventing their skin being torn off by sand grains carried on the wind.

After catching the first sign announcing that they had entered Amarillo Jinxx took the lead. This city had been his home for several years before the parasitical infestation and Jinxx knew these roads well. Despite that Jinxx would often forget his own name - or what he preferred to be called - the maps had been carved deeply into his mind.

The first impression Amarillo was the shock of mellow, warm calmness which engulfed the atmosphere in its arms. Despite the high spirits Jinxx seemed grave, and Andy had a dreadful suspicion of why and it twisted his gut.

Jinxx had lead them towards a suburban spread in the middle of the city. From the empty streets the gleaming skyscrapers and shopping mall, titan blocks were visible as they towered over the white and grey houses which had been cut apart from each other in neat slices leaving each property with a small square of land.

Community halls and churches rooted through the neighbourhood, they were the ghosts of this withering society or rather a nostalgic reminder. The ripped ghastly welcoming signs hung from church walls tempting in the weak minded passers by, luckily the survivors of what the Faithful called the “rapture” had lost even their most pathetic hopes in miracles.

Once the motorbikes reduced their speeds to no more than a slither as they weaved in and out of narrow streets they were able to observe the city with detail. Amarillo had became a ghost town, that was the truth, but there were no bodies of the dead, no parasites, no war. Three years ago the city had been evacuated, all residents were driven out to rural towns, beyond the border into Canada or into Europe if they were lucky. During the evacuation chaos had arose and families and friends were split apart, shipped away who knows where. There is no chance that they could ever be reunited, no track record had been kept of the evacuees so no paper trail could have been followed.

One of the unfortunate separated had been Jinxx and his newly wed wife -Sammi.

Andy could feel the dread dawn upon the group once they finally stopped in front of another ex-residents home. It was plain, white all over, it had two floors and a grey roof. It seemed to have been completely untouched, by people and by time. An undisturbed memories of what could have been despite that Amarillo was only a short stop for Jinxx and Sammi, just another stepping stone.

Jinxx was the first to approach the house, he stopped metres away from the door step, shifting from one foot to the other with anxiety. Andy attempted to avoid noticing the welling tears in Jinxx’s eyes, instead he watched him pull on the loose threads of his jackets sleeves with his shacking fingers.

“Do you think she will be there?” It seemed profound at first to bring up the topic but it also seemed pathetically immature to ignore the fact that yes, Jinxx had lead them to find Sammi. It wasn’t just another field trip to gloat at a city, break some furniture and kill a screaming hoard of the undead.

“I-I don’t know.” Jinxx muttered weakly. Jinxx had always presented himself as a stoic silent shadow, it was unnerving to see him like this - stuttering and all. But the haunted man soon schooled his expression back to a pale marble slate.

Jinxx was about to turn away from what was once his home and retreat to his motorbike when he caught a slither of movement from one of the windows on the second floor of the house. Without another word or thought Jinxx disappeared in a flash through the unlocked door of the house.

Ridden with alarm and worry Jake was about to follow in pursuit to stop Jinxx from doing something foolish, after all they didn’t know who or what was that they caught a glimpse of. But before Jake could disappear in the dark Andy caught him and pulled him back into the bleak line of his companions where he was forced to wait.

It didn’t take long for Jinxx to reappear. His expression was on the line between relief and terror, he had paled and seemed ghostly in the sunlight. He steadied himself against the door frame and took a moment to catch his breath before he spoke in a distraught, faint voice, “It’s Sammi.”

The group waited for him to continue in a tensed silence.

“She didn’t make it.” Jinxx softly said. The first tears fell down Jinxx’s pale features, they continued to well in his eyes as the audience froze helpless. Before Jinxx could crumble to his knees Jake caught him in his arms and pulled the shattered man close to his chest.

It seemed to have taken hours for Jinxx to regain a calm external composure and an ability to stand on his own feet. During that time no one dared to disturb the gentle shushes that Jake whispered to vulnerable figure in his arms. Even once Jinxx had convinced himself that he was strong enough to face himself with his dread, the tears that trailed down his features gave away the turmoil in his mind.

When Andy pressed his hand gun along with the silencer into Jinxx’s hands it seemed cold, and even apathetic to the situation in which he left Jinxx. But it had to be done. As Andy spoke his final solemn orders the other nodded in understanding.

Somewhere during Jinxx’s mourning, Andy payed a final visit to Sammi, after all, he had never met the woman who kept Jinxx strong through all these years in the memories which she left him behind with. He wanted to whisper his thanks and have a faint hope that she would be blessed with the miracle of no pain as she made her transition. But when Andy saw Sammi’s broken figure curled up on the too-large bed in the master bedroom all he saw was Juliet. Andy couldn’t bring himself to disturb the pained fragile figure amongst the black sheets which made her skin resemble marble traced with delicate darkening veins.

Just as Juliet, she was in her final hours. Soon she would lose herself and become one of the undead. It had to be a clean shot; a bullet to the temple or the back of her neck would prevent her from rising again and would put her out of the dawning misery.

As Jinxx disappeared in the dark to end his wife’s life Andy could see himself in those steps which Jinxx made. He could imagine Jinxx whispering the same goodbyes to Sammi as she would look up at him with dazed eyes as she attempted to control the burning pain which numbed her limbs and hazed her mind to say something, anything to the man she loved. He would raise the gun to her neck as she would look up at him, feeling nothing but the pain. Then it would all fade into black.