A simple supply hunt for a source of water in the middle of Atlanta turns sour quickly for Erin as she come fist to face with a fuming, handless Merle Dixon.
Alone in the middle of the apocalypse with only a racist guy who doesn't know the differen...
"Birds sing after a storm. Why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?" - Rose Kennedy
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A shiver ran across Erin's skin, bringing up goosebumps as she removed her jacket and vest, standing in front of the mirror in her bra while she examined the stain. The dark red had managed to soak straight through the material, leaving a sticky crimson residue across the skin of her lower back which she already knew would be a nightmare to wash off.
Turning on the faucet, she dumped the ruined top in the sink, allowing it to soak up the warm-ish water like a sponge as trickles of red began to run down the drain. They danced together like ribbons of rubies, joining at some points and separating at others as though they were participants in some elaborate ballroom dance towards the plughole. All she could find in the way of soap was a thin sliver of slimy rose pink sat on the porcelain so she guessed it would have to do, trying her best to ignore her doubts of its cleaning power.
As she rubbed it against the fabric, she watched the water tinge cloudy pink like the lemonade she and Todd used to drink at each other's birthdays when they were little. She smiled at the memory, waiting for the pain of a worse one to follow it but, for the first time, none came - she found herself able to think of her brother without the dryness in the back of her throat forming and choking her...
This memory led her down the path to others, to the days their mom brought home cakes from the bakery down the road from their house. The first time they wandered off together in the woods and saw a rabbit dart in front of them, sparking her awe of nature. The day she'd left for college, waving goodbye from the back window of the Greyhound bus, tears streaming down her cheeks...
Not a single one felt like a stab to the gut as they had before. No, these brought a reminiscent smile to her lips as they reminded her of the good times she'd had with him, convincing her that she'd helped him to live his life before it was brutally ripped away from him.
Todd was forty-one when he died. He'd lived forty-one eventful and adventurous years by her side, learning medicine and helping others, helping her in ways beyond anything his wild imagination could fathom. His was not a wasted life and she found herself feeling selfish for wallowing in the grief of his death for so many weeks when she could do more for the world around her now than she could possibly do for him - she found herself feeling ashamed for holding onto him for so long when really his memory deserved to be free. As free as the life he'd lived...
Forty-one was a decent age considering how Erin barely expected to see herself to thirty-seven... He'd had a good run at life in the apocalypse, but she needed to remember he was gone now, the pain he'd suffered was gone now...
Todd was at peace with this fucked up world and dragging him back into it would only cause more harm - not only for her, but for the people who had to deal with the results of her grief.
