Until the End of the World
By Sarah Lyons Fleming
Copyright © 2013 Sarah Lyons Fleming
Amazon Kindle .mobi edition.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the author, except as used in a book review. Please contact the author at SarahLyonsFleming@gmail.com.
Cover photo © Cruskoko Dreamstime.com
Lumos font © CarpeSaponem, Sarah McFalls
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Except for Laddie, who was the best dog ever.
For Sadie and Silas.
I love you, my nerdlings, until the end of the world and after.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
CHAPTER 98
CHAPTER 99
CHAPTER 100
CHAPTER 101
CHAPTER 102
CHAPTER 103
CHAPTER 104
CHAPTER 105
CHAPTER 106
CHAPTER 107
CHAPTER 108
CHAPTER 109
CHAPTER 110
CHAPTER 111
CHAPTER 112
CHAPTER 113
CHAPTER 114
CHAPTER 115
CHAPTER 116
CHAPTER 117
CHAPTER 118
CHAPTER 119
CHAPTER 120
CHAPTER 121
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
CHAPTER 1
Today is the kind of spring day that used to make me feel like anything was possible. That it would all work out in the end. I used to love days like this. Of course, that was before I started avoiding spring altogether.
It isn’t easy to avoid an entire season, especially one this glorious. But for the past three years I’ve managed it. I close the blinds, stay out of the sunshine and keep to myself, so as not to dredge up memories of that first terrible spring.
But this year feels different. I can’t help but enjoy the breeze that promises summer is coming. It’s the kind of day that puts a spring in your step, where you believe hope does spring eternal.
I dreamt about Adrian last night. But it wasn’t the usual dream, the one that wakes me up in tears with that empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. We were sitting on the porch steps of my parents’ cabin. Our legs were stretched out, feet resting on the ground. I was wiggling my toes. There was nothing else. Sure, the bees buzzed among the flowers and the trees whispered in the wind, but that was it. There was just quiet. And peace, the kind of peace that didn’t seem to follow Adrian as much as it was a product of him. When I woke up that feeling stayed with me, and I started thinking that maybe it could be mine again.
My friend Penny’s dark ponytail swings as we pass the brownstones and apartment buildings of our Brooklyn neighborhood on our way to work. I haven’t told her about this feeling, even though I tell her almost everything. I’m like a squirrel with a nut, wanting to hide it away for safekeeping, to turn it over and over and examine it.
Penny glances at my feet. “You wore your new shoes.”
I nod. It’s still too cool, but I wore the delicate straw sandals anyway. I thought they might make me feel feminine and strong. That maybe they would help me to embrace and welcome spring again. Relying on shoes to do all that is pretty dumb, but I need all the help I can get.
Penny raises her face to the sun and sighs with pleasure. She moved here from Puerto Rico when she was ten, after her father died. Even after all these years she still takes winter as a personal affront.
“My mom was called in last night, something to do with the LX virus,” Penny says, and pushes her vintage glasses back up where they belong. “She says there are a lot of cases in New York now.”
Bornavirus LX has spread across the world in the past few days. So far it’s only been found in the Midwest and West. I haven’t been paying much attention because in the spring I never do.
“Did she say how many?”
“No. But she’s pretty certain the quarantine of St. Louis means it’s going to get bad.”
“They quarantined St. Louis?” I’m shocked that it’s come to that.
“Yeah, late last night. Chicago, too. And air traffic is suspended from the West.” We stop at the front door of the Sunset Park Community Center, where we both work. “How do you not know all this? You’re usually the one telling me these things.”
“I’ve been distracted. I didn’t listen to the news this morning.”
I want to tell her more, but I’m not sure what there is to tell. It’s just a mental shift or something, and if it comes to nothing I don’t want to advertise the fact that I’ve failed. Penny glances around and twists her lips.
“James kissed me last night,” she says to the concrete.
“James what?” I yell. She shushes me and I lower my voice. “We just walked all the way to work and you
tell me now? At—” I look at the time on my phone, “crap. There’s a meeting. I have to go.”
Penny smiles. She did this on purpose so I wouldn’t bother her about it the whole way to work.
“I knew it!” I say, and narrow my eyes even though I’m grinning. “We’re twenty-eight years old and you still won’t tell me when you like someone! Nelly and I have been waiting for this. You’re gonna tell me later, you know.”
“Gotta go,” she sings out, as I head upstairs.
CHAPTER 2
I’m at my desk, considering beating my uncooperative computer with my stapler, when I hear a voice.
“Psst, Cassie.” Nelly’s head appears over our shared cubicle wall. “Drinks later.”
I open my mouth, about to refuse, but he shakes his head and flashes me his white-toothed smile. “Don’t even say no,” he drawls, before he sinks down.
I sigh and slip on my sandals to go argue my case. I’m sure this is one time Nelly will be glad I’m backing out of plans. I sit down opposite Nelly’s desk and swing my foot.
“New shoes?” he asks.
The magical properties I imbued them with this morning have not materialized. So far the only thing they’ve done is create a suspicious pre-blister itch in several places. My toes are freezing. I notice my toenail polish is chipped, as usual.
“You like?”
“Yeah, yeah, they’re great. Have I ever given a rat’s ass about shoes?” He runs a hand through his messy blond hair and tries to look despondent but fails. “No, you’ve come to tell me you aren’t drinking with me.”
Nelly’s tall, broad and exceedingly healthy. It’s obvious he grew up in a place where they ate beef and drank whole milk and were out in the fresh air and sunshine. Without the ever-present smile, his face can look stony. He perfected it playing high school football in Texas, where a good game face is essential, especially when you’re gay.
I sigh. “Believe me, I’d rather go out. But I’m going to try to break up with Peter tonight.”
He whoops, Texas-style. Now that I’ve told Nelly I can’t chicken out of the breakup at the last minute without getting tons of grief. I already regret it.
“You are not going to try, you wuss!” He bangs a pen on his desk and points it at me. “You’re going to do it this time. But, first, we’ll have a drink for fortification.”
I laugh because of course he’s going to get his way.
His blue eyes are serious. “You’d better make a clean break. Or I’ll do it for you. I swear I will this time.”
I give in. I’m going to need that drink. I could use it right now, actually. “Okay.”
He looks doubtful.
“I will. I promise.” I lay my head on his desk and moan. “I hate this. Why do I have to break it off?”
He pats my head. “Because, darlin’, you date the wrong people.”
I stick my tongue out at him just as James, our part-time IT guy, pokes his head into the cubicle. There’s a flush of excitement on his angular cheeks.
“Guys, come see,” he says. “The virus is in New York.”
We follow him down the hall to the conference room. I refrain from asking him about Penny because she would kill me, although I’m dying to.
Our coworkers are perched on chairs and the long table, eyes trained on the newscaster.
“Bornavirus LX has been found in all five boroughs since yesterday. The virus first appeared in Long Xuyen, Vietnam last week, and has since spread throughout the world. As of last night, cities in the middle and western U.S., including Denver, Chicago and St. Louis, are quarantined, and state governors have instituted mandatory curfews. The fast-moving virus causes brain damage, which triggers the infected to aggressively attack and spread the disease through their bodily fluids.
“Authorities state that the virus is under control. People with a high fever and joint pain should be seen immediately by a doctor or emergency room. Please do not try to care for your sick loved one yourself. The CDC and Health Department are not releasing estimates of the number infected so far. We will be following up with more information as it becomes available.”
James cocks an eyebrow at me, lets out a harrumph and heads to his work space. His hands fly over his computer keyboard. I don’t ask what he’s up to because I know he’ll find me when he’s done.
Nelly and I amble back down the hall. Usually, I would comb the internet for news about the virus, but it’s gone in one ear and almost out the other by the time we reach our desks. My thoughts are consumed with the tactic I’ll use to break up with Peter. There’s the let’s-be-friends and the it’s-not-you-it’s-me and there’s the fact that I’m an idiot for dating Peter in the first place and then dragging it out this long.
“Hey,” I say to Nelly, “how about this: ‘Peter, I’m an idiot. And I can’t be with you anymore because I’m an idiot?’ ”
“You suck at this.” He puts his arm around my shoulders to stop my shivering. I don’t handle this kind of anticipation very well. “I’ll coach you over drinks. By the time you get to Peter you’ll only have to recite your lines. Okay?”
I give a somber nod. “Nelly, why can’t I just marry you?”
“Darlin’, we both know who you should marry, and that door is probably still open.”
He’s talking about Adrian. We were engaged until I ruined it.
“That ship has sailed, Nelly.” I can’t say Adrian’s name out loud because I’ll start crying, I know I will. “It’s been two years.”
“He’s in the northeast, Cass. I could find out where. If you wanted me to.”
My face is hot. I haven’t done many things I’m ashamed of, things where I’ve been hurtful, but what I did to Adrian is the biggie.
Nelly’s bringing it up today of all days must be a sign. What if I said, Sure, go ahead and find him? I can’t imagine that Adrian would be happy to hear from me. But that feeling from my dream still lingers, and I want it for real. I want it so badly that maybe I’m finally willing to take the chance and find out. I open my mouth, trying to find the words, right as my phone rings. Nelly raises his eyebrows like he’ll be waiting for an answer and leaves. I pick up the phone.
“Hey, Cassandra,” Peter yells over loud rumblings.
“Where the heck are you? It sounds like you’re standing on a runway or something.”
“I am. We’re at the private airport here in D.C. waiting for our jet to New York. It’s been delayed. They’re saying we have ‘low priority.’ There are ten senators and their families ahead of us.”
“Philip Morris must be giving out vacations if you vote yes on a pro-youth smoking bill,” I joke.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t even chuckle. Sometimes Peter is lacking in the humor department. “Anyway, I don’t know about tonight. I’ll be in late, but maybe I’ll come to your apartment so I can see you first thing in the morning. I miss you.”
“Sure. Good. Just let yourself in whenever,” I squeak, painfully aware that I don’t miss him back. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See you then.” The phone clicks off.
I can see him standing at the airport. He’ll slip his phone into his designer-name-I’ve-never-heard-of coat pocket and rake a hand through his dark hair. Then he’ll stride off to find the most important-looking person at the airport and convince them his flight has priority over Air Force One.
My stomach stops roiling now that I get to put off the breakup. When I get home tonight I’ll pretend I’m really tired or drunk or something. I know I’m being spineless, but I don’t like to hurt people’s feelings, even if I don’t like them very much. Or, in Peter’s case, when they pretend they don’t have any. But, mainly, I’m chicken.
I’ve spent the past year convincing myself that Peter isn’t as superficial as he seems, but now I’m not so sure. Honestly, at first I kind of liked how easy it was to date him. He didn’t push me to talk about my feelings. He couldn’t compare me to the person I’d been two years before. When I met
him I was coming out of a two-year fog. But as the fog has cleared and I’ve become more like the old me, he’s never given me more than a glimpse of something real.
In true passive-aggressive fashion I’ve been waiting for him to break it off. I’ve gotten more and more distant and even blatantly annoyed with him. This approach obviously hasn’t worked. I need to imagine the after, not the part where I do it. I just need to do it fast.
Nelly’s voice floats over the wall. “You’ve got to rip him off you like a band-aid.”
“How do you read my mind, Nelly? It’s so freaking creepy!”
“Sounds like you got a reprieve. More time to drink. Practice, I mean.”
James enters holding an unlit cigarette and his iPad. He reminds me of a praying mantis: all long, skinny legs and arms. He spends all his time folded over a computer or tablet, smoking madly. I imagine him making the moves on Penny and smile.
“Hey,” I say.
He plops down and hands me his iPad, which is open to a blog page. “Look at this, Cass. It’s about Bornavirus LX. It’s more serious than they say.”
My family’s dinner table was a place where Roswell and Peak Oil and the New World Order were debated with enthusiasm. I’ve found a kindred spirit in James. He loves that kind of stuff.
I read aloud. “As the LX virus has spread it appears to have mutated. The last reports received suggest it may be only a matter of hours from infection to the final stage.”
“In the final stage the person goes crazy,” James says. He tucks his light brown, jaw-length hair behind his ear. “Then they attack, which is how a lot of people are getting infected. It’s in the saliva and blood. One site says they’ve been showing the same footage of Chicago for twenty-four hours because Chicago’s a wasteland. I know a couple of bloggers out there and their sites have been down for the past day.”
A graph estimates that fifty thousand people in New York City will be infected as of noon today.
“That’s crazy,” I say. “Fifty thousand? There’s no way they could hide that many sick here. And they’re still telling us it’s not serious?”
He fiddles with his cigarette. “I know. They wouldn’t quarantine major cities if it wasn’t serious. The hospitals are filling up faster than they can handle.”
I think of Penny’s mom, Maria, who’s a nurse. She’d know what’s going on.
“Yeah, well, I definitely wouldn’t put it past the government not to tell us anything until we’re fucked.” I sigh. “I have to finish this newsletter. My computer is being a pain.”