The Next Life - Part 1

The Next Life: Chapter 2 - Part 7

                                                          7

       I draw in a sharp breath, reacting to the sting, as the last of my Bactine hits the wound.I quickly cover the ripped flesh with two gauze pads, bringing that supply down to three, and wrap the cloth bandage around my ribs.Then, I head over to the squirrel, pick it and the knife up, along with my bow and quiver of arrows, and walk from the cave.I never dress my food, or cook near the camp, for I cannot risk the smell of food attracting predators to my site.

       I walk fifteen minutes to my “dining room”.This consists of a large flat rock, where I can clean my meal, and a large fire pit.I set the squirrel on the large rock with the knife, and cross over to the pit.After leaning my bow against one of the stones, I grab my starter sticks and spend the next few minutes creating a fire.Then, I head back to the flat rock, and begin to dress my kill, starting at the ribs and cutting down, being careful not to cut into the organs.I remove the unwanted organs (heart, stomach, intestines, etc…), and place them on the rock for later disposal.Finally, I cut out the meat, and having skewered it, begin cooking.Twelve years ago, I’m not sure I could’ve killed an animal, much less cut and cooked one.But to say things have changed would greatly understate what has happened here.

       With the image of the neighborhood squirming fresh in my mind, the reporter’s words suddenly swim through the muck to the forefront of my conscience.

       “Did they say this is happening all over Fort Collins?” I asked the slightly annoyed coworker.

       “Yeah,” he said, and I could see by his expression that the same thought had just hit him.Looking around, I could see that others were starting to realize the same thing I had.

       “My kids are at school, but my wife is at home,” I said out loud, but more to myself than to anyone in particular.I suddenly found myself on my feet, before I’d even realized what I was doing, and the next thing I knew I was outside, fishing for my keys, and sliding into my car, cell phone already in hand.I dialed my wife’s number as I started the car.When there was no answer, the panic really began to set in.I don’t remember much of my drive from work to my neighborhood, but much like that week, I’ll never forget turning off the main road onto our street.

       The scenes from the news could not prepare me for the reality of what was happening.The slain and mangled bodies; the pools of blood; the metallic smells; the blanket of death.It was all I could to do to focus on getting to my house, which I did, and more often than not, wish I hadn’t.

       The first thing I noticed as I raced from my car to my house was that the front door was a clump of metal, piled in the yard.I passed by the Aspen that had grown from a twig to a full grown tree in the years we’d lived there, and burst through the entrance screaming my wife’s name.Our house was basically two stories, but upon entry you had to choose whether to go upstairs or downstairs.I started upstairs, which is where our bedroom and our youngest daughter’s bedroom had been.I raced through the two rooms, then down the hall, passing the stairs on the way to the small kitchen and dining area.Empty.I ran back to the stairs and bound down to the lower level, the dark brown carpet blurred by creating a mudslide-like scene.I hit the basement floor, rounded to the corner where the washer and dryer were, and there she was.At least, what was left of her.

       I remember slumping to my knees as my eyes wandered over her poor, mutilated body.Her hair was a bloody clump, thankfully covering her face.Her left arm was missing, and her right was twisted under her.Her torso had been twisted so that her motionless chest (clad in a red stained t-shirt reading ‘SMILE, IT’S CONTAGIOUS’) was facing up, but her legs were facing down.She was no more than two feet in front of me, yet…I couldn’t go to her.Not like that.It was all I could do to not lose consciousness.I have no recollection of how long I knelt in the basement, but eventually my senses caught up with my anguish.

       I realized that there had been screaming outside for quite some time.Not just from one person, but from many people, and from all over.It was a strange sound.Like alarms going off.There would be three screams, and then one would suddenly cut off, but quickly be replaced by another.This continued as I stood and walked toward the front door, sometimes as many as six different screams at once, sometimes as few as one.But there was never a moment of silence.I walked back out the front entrance in a daze.I didn’t know where I was going until I heard the child’s scream.I had no idea where it came from, but it shook me awake, refilling my body with a new shot of adrenaline.My heart went from a shattered organ, to an overpowered jackhammer.

       “Kaia…Sibyl,” I may have said this out loud, or the names may have just streaked across my mind.Regardless, the names brought back all the panic, and sent me racing back to the car, leaving a screaming world behind me.