The Mission

CW: Violence, religious extremism

“I wasn’t sure I would have another chance to write in this journal. The last image I can recall is the outline of what I hoped was an outpost. Before the cold sapped what little was left of my strength, I made my best effort to head toward it. I know I didn’t walk inside because I recall the cold impact of the snow just before blacking out. I must have been close enough to be spotted by a sentry because I woke up in a warm dark room. After thoroughly confirming I was not infected, the people here have been incredibly welcoming. After a week of convalescence, I feel almost normal again.

Apparently, this outpost had been raised at the beginning of the event, and since the epicenter was many hundreds of miles away, the military had time to properly fortify the defenses of this hopefully final outpost. I feel it, surely providence led me here and I can finally…”

Suddenly a knocking at his door cause Peter to start, and before he went to open the door, he carefully hid the journal under his mattress. As he was turning toward the door, Peter heard it creak open as Janet walked into the room.

“Well, lazy bones, we were wondering if you were going to join us today. It is nearly nine o-clock!”

“Sorry, I was preoccupied.”

“Still can’t remember who ya are can ya?

“No, other than my name, I can’t even recall where I was walking from.”

“Well, no worries there darling. Doesn’t matter where ya been, but where ya at!”

“What about where I’m going?

This comment gave Janet pause, “Going? Where is there to go anymore? Ain’t nothing left to see but where ya are in my estimation.”

“You’re probably right and I am so very glad to have been found by such hospitable people. Now I doubt you came here just to check on my health, unless you want to stay for awhile and keep each other warm, did you have a message for me?”

“Oh, the cheek on you young fellas! I swear the world ends and all the manners with it. Not that I wouldn’t have taken ya up on it were I about twenty years younger. Nah, the cap’n said he needs to see ya.”

“Ha, well tell the captain I will head his way presently.”

As Janet turned to leave with a look of absolute chagrin on her face, Peter couldn’t help but laugh. He did miss this kind of harmless flirtation at times, and he would dearly miss Janet.

Walking toward the command building, Peter reviewed all he had learned about this final vestige. Around one hundred people battled fate inside these walls: twenty-five soldiers and thirty odd families with varying numbers of progeny. The children seemed to have various degrees of awareness. The older teens and even some of the preteens seemed to understand the dire nature of their situation. The weight of a burden too heavy to bear hung about their shoulders, and their sunken eyes belied the growing despair they shared. Fear not, thought Peter, I will lift your sorrows. The youngest children, however, remained all sunshine regarding their current predicament. It seems the adults had all agreed upon the lie that all these families were on an extended vacation, and they would return to their homes after the winter broke. What a terrible lie to deliver to the young. Such sinfulness made Peter sick at his heart, but he was comforted by his mission.

Lost in his thoughts, he nearly walked past the command center when a guard called out for him.

“Hey, new guy, get your ass in here. The captain has been waiting for you.” Without responding, Peter made his way inside the improvised command center which, before the event, was a post office. Finding the captain sitting with his head in his hands, Peter gently coughed to alert the haggard man to his presence.

Looking up and feigning a smile, “Well how fairs our latest nomad?”

“Better since you’ve all taken me in. I cannot believe there was anyone still alive out here. I had resigned myself to dying out in the snow.”

“I am glad you are recovering well. I was surprised to see a traveler. It has been well over two years since any new faces have come through this area. We were beginning to believe that we were the last ones left.”

Very nearly, Peter thought. “Yes, I was starting to feel the same about myself.”

“I was hoping you could explain to me where you came from and what you know of any more survivors. I know the doc said you were suffering from amnesia, but I need to press you on this. These people are broken and until you show up, they believed there was little hope to press onward, but if you aren’t alone and if there is a chance someone else survived…” The captain trailed off, but Peter understood what he meant. The captain was looking for something to give his people that would motivate them and keep the foolish flame of hope’s final embers alight.

Taking a minute to consider which response would best help his mission, Peter determined a hopeful message would bring him greater trust. “Truthfully, I am having trouble recalling much aside from my name, but I do know that I’m not smart enough to have survived the event alone.” The small spot of humor caused the captain to let out an involuntary chuckle.

“Ha, excuse me. I don’t mean to agree that you are stupid, but I haven’t laughed in so long that you caught me off guard.”

“Haha, it’s alright. Look, I do vaguely recall taking shelter with a group after the event, and while I don’t know exactly how I found myself traveling in this mad world, the fact that I am here should give your people at least some hope that we aren’t alone. Hell, If I can make it out there, surely the better equipped people must be alive as well.” The lie hide the fear Peter had regarding the number of survivors he still needed to find. He suppressed a shiver at the thought, and made sure the captain didn’t notice his disquiet.

“I couldn’t agree with you more. In any case, you’ve renewed my hope. Thank you for making the trek and finding our outpost.”

“I am just glad I found you when I did. I guess you could say fate was looking out for us both.”

“Not much of a believer in fate, but I hope you will find a place here with us. You won’t need to travel that mad world anymore.” The sincerity of this statement struck Peter. For a second, he wavered in his mission, considering a possible life among these strugglers. The notion was quickly tossed aside. He knew what he needed to do, and sentiment would not keep him from his duty.

“Thank you, Captain. If that is all, I promised to help clear the snow from the walkways today.”

“Already making yourself helpful? Well, then I won’t keep you any longer. When your memory does return, I would love to hear about your story. Until then, dismissed.”

Walking back through the post office, Peter felt confident he would be able to complete his mission easier than anticipated. The utter hopelessness of their struggle had left these people open to the sense of hope a new face had brought them, and Peter found that to be a perfect opening for him to exploit. Two months should be just about enough time to finish.

Sitting at the desk and writing for a final time Peter began, “Well, it has taken slightly longer than I thought to finish the mission here, but I finalized it last night by infecting the last family. At last, every single person, aside from myself, has met the fate they were meant for when the event struck. This outpost was more interesting than the last. For the first time ever, I found others who were naturally immune from the infection. I initially believed these were allies sent by God to aid in my mission; however, as I tried to convince each one of them to join my divine crusade, I was rejected and had to find more creative ways to help them meet fate. Alas, I fear I am truly alone and fear I am not the last. I will stay here for another month. The weather is still not ideal for traveling. After, I will load up and return to the road. I found a map of potential outposts the army was planning at the start of the event. Three of them are ones I have already delivered into God’s hands, but there are two more that I need to track down.

I know it is a divine mission, but I am weary. How long before we are all justly punished? How long before I can join the rest of humanity? How long before I can know the peace of the infected? These questions sit at the back of my mind as I continuing looking for the strength to carry onward.”

Peter closed his journal and snuffed out the light. Before turning in for the evening, Peter went to check on the final family. Yes, they were gone. Seeing the twisted forms the infection wrought in them, Peter found renewed resolve. “Yes, this is a righteous cause,” he told himself as he closed his eyes for the night. Tomorrow he would burn the bodies and begin planning his next trek.