Adrift (The Scourge Book 2) by Tom Abrahams

Author:Tom Abrahams [Abrahams, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Piton Press LLC
Published: 2020-05-11T16:00:00+00:00

To whomever finds this,

Thank you.

Thank you for finding this so that my story doesn’t end with me. It’s important that someone, anyone, knows what happened here. Though, as I write this, I’m not certain anyone is left to find this. I might be writing this to the ether, for an audience that will never materialize.

I’ll start by telling you my name is Grace Ward. I am twenty-nine years old. I was born in Akron, Ohio, grew up in Cleveland and moved to Florida for college eleven years ago. I earned a degree in graphic design from Flagler College. I got a job at a small engineering firm doing drafting work.

I met a man through a dating app. We fell in love. We got married two years ago and bought this house. His name was Ryan Ward. He was a beautiful person who spent his life helping others. You might have seen his name on the marker out front. He was the last to die.

The others were friends of ours. We took them in when it became clear the Scourge was more than a simple outbreak. Ryan and I were the only ones among our social group to own a home. The rest lived in apartments. It wasn’t as safe in places with a lot of people. Ryan, being the kind soul that he was, invited them to crash with us indefinitely. I protested. We all stayed inside the house. We turned off the air conditioning. We did everything we could to stop the disease from affecting us. It didn’t work.

Bobby was the first to get sick. That was November first. We were in denial at first. It was a cold or allergies. We were certain. Of course it wasn’t. It was pneumonia. By the time he died six days later, Blair, Tony and Alice were showing symptoms.

We thought about leaving them here, but there was nowhere to go. It was worse outside. The gunshots, the fires, the sirens, the roadblocks. Ryan thought it best we take our chances in the house with the sick. There were people surviving the illness, according to the news stations. Then Darren, Jeff and Katherine contracted it.

Within two weeks of Bobby showing the first symptoms, half of the house was dead. We couldn’t leave them inside. The smell. I can’t tell you how bad our house smelled.

Ryan told me it was psychosomatic. Have you ever smelled something that wasn’t there? It’s like hearing noises and making them into something they’re not. Even if he dismissed me, Ryan agreed we couldn’t keep the bodies in the house.

So late at night on November 13, several of us carried the bodies outside. It was a Sunday. It was quiet that night. We thought it was a good time. Ryan and George dug a grave. It wasn’t a grave. It was a large hole. It’s not fair to call it a grave.

We put the bodies in the hole and covered them up. I stood at the window in the second bedroom and looked down at the mound of sand over their bodies.

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