Sudden Independents

He opened the door and stared, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness before he entered. When he did step inside, he saw two dried-husks of decomposing bodies on the bed. Quickly he took another step, pressed his back against the door to close it and turned the lock.

Jimmy had seen a lot of death over the years. He became jaded right after the plague because death was everywhere. He helped remove a lot of dead bodies from Independents. The number didn’t compare to a city the size of Denver with its surrounding suburbs, but still, there had been enough.

He found this scene bearable. Dried-husks weren’t slimy.

He walked to the window, where a shaft of light tried to filter in through the dirty windowpane. He pulled on the cord that separated the curtains, allowing at least a little more sunshine access to the room.

Across from the bed a bureau showcased a series of framed photographs. Jimmy first noticed the black-and-white photo of a couple, her smiling in a white wedding dress, him grinning in a military uniform. Another picture, framed in silver, was of the woman, a few years and a different hairstyle later, holding a bald chubby baby. The baby had the father’s grin.

More pictures on the bureau told the rest of the couple’s life story. The son in his own uniform with the United States flag behind him, the son with his own bride, pictures of kids, a blonde girl, her younger brother, the little boy holding a fishing rod, grinning with his Grandpa.

Jimmy touched the top of each frame as he imagined the love and happiness this family shared. There’s something powerful about a completed life, he mused. Memories were made that not even the plague had totally obliterated.

Jimmy wondered if that’s what scared him most. He didn’t feel like his life was complete. If he’d only let Ginger know how he felt earlier, and if they’d given birth to a child, like Mark and Vanessa, then he might be ready. But he knew Vanessa would say there was no way she could leave her child now.

Kids aren’t supposed to die before they reach adulthood. They should be given the opportunity to live a full and satisfied life. They’re supposed to be given the chance to grow up, make mistakes and accomplish enough to leave an imprint of themselves on somebody else at least, if not a legacy for the world to view in awe.

Jimmy felt like he’d spent the past six years waiting to die. “What else could I do?” he asked, shuddering at the sound of his distraught voice in this couple’s tomb.

He spotted a grayed piece of paper on the nightstand next to the man, stared at it for a moment, then unfolded and read the note:

Dear Friend,

I hope life is treating you well. This sickness took my Jane from me early this morning and I feel it coursing through me now.

I enjoyed my 64 years. I grew up, I fought in a war serving my country and lived, I married the girl of my dreams, and together we had a baby boy who followed in my footsteps until he created his own.

What footprints have you left behind? I hope you get the chance to leave some. No matter how much time is before you, treat each moment as a chance to help others and love those around you. Then in the end, you will know it was time well spent.

If our remains are still here when you arrive, all I ask is that you bury me with my Jane. We’ve been together until the end and my only wish is that we never part.

Best Regards,

Jonathan

Jimmy placed the note between the couple and made his way to the door. In the hallway, he met Ginger in all her beautiful dustiness.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Jimmy realized he was crying. He kissed her dirty cheek. “I have to find a shovel.”