One Man and the World

In a peaceful world known as Farhome, a lone human man sits at his table alone with his thoughts. Named James Rune, he had been sitting in his house for a few hours now. He had wished that things were easier for him, but they weren’t, and he now had to think about a choice that would not only have consequential effects for not only him but the world around him.

As a man of almost fifty, he had lived in Farhome is whole life and now had to consider what will happen in the next few hours. James stood up to walk around his garden. It was a large garden, but it was one that James was proud of as he had worked on it for almost his whole adult life, collecting flowers from all over the planet.

One of the flowers he collected was known as the Starflower, which was not only beautiful, but also incredibly rare in his world. It had taken him decades just to find one and had spent most of his life savings to acquire it. More than just a beautiful flower, it was also easy to take care of and had qualities that supported the plants around it. James had planted it near other flowers in his garden, and they all looked exceptionally healthy.

“This is good for my garden,” said James, “because I have these plants, the flowers in my garden could live for decades without any help from me.” As he walked across the garden, he continued to admire his life’s work and noticed that he was not the only person walking through it.

James saw a small group of squirrels eating fruit from a nearby tree. He could tell that it was fruit from the Dusttree, which was food that could feed humans and animals for weeks if they continued to ration it. “I kept this tree in case of an emergency,” said James to himself, “and now, someone else can use it to save themselves, which is perfectly fine.”

James then walked to a table in the middle of the garden. It stood out from the rest of the objects in the area as James had forgotten to dust it for months, and it had a dusty and dirty appearance. However, James, who was usually strict with cleanliness in his house, chose to sit at the table instead, knowing that it wouldn’t matter if he did or did not. Within an hour, it could all be over.

James looked at the pistol he had brought with him. He continued to look at it, wondering if it was really necessary. “This can’t have happened to me,” said James, “I can’t believe it.” James was still stunned about what had happened to him a few hours ago, which he knew was a death sentence.

As a scientist who worked in a biological weapons lab, he had recently been accidentally infected with a dangerous virus, which would turn humans into zombie-like creatures. It had happened when one of the scientists tried to conduct a dangerous test, which James had recommended against, knowing that there was high chance that it would lead to an accident.

James had been infected when the container that was holding the virus suddenly broke, causing the air in the lab to be infected with the virus. Many people who worked in the lab died almost instantly and then rose again as zombies. James and the other scientists, who were protective clothing, were able to avoid instantly breathing in the virus, but when they took off the clothing in the interment area between the lab and the rest of the building, they unfortunately breathed in the virus there, because the scientist who had demanded the test forgot to adequately check the building’s ventilation system.

“That fool,” thought James, “I am lucky that we didn’t instantly die because the virus had to pass through filters, causing it to become less potent.” “Now, I have two hours to live before I become a zombie. However, I can avoid being a zombie and spreading the virus if I shoot myself in the head.” James again stared at the pistol.

“There might be a way to save myself,” said James to himself, “I could take one of the chemicals in the lab that is theorized to help me.” “It isn’t likely to work however, and by the time that I return, if I am still alive, I will likely become a zombie within ten minutes. I don’t want to die. I can’t possibly deserve this.” James’ mind continued to race fiercely as he tried to think of a solution against what he knew was impossible odds.

Desperately needing something else to think about James thought about his son and daughter. “I wonder how they are doing,” he thought, “by now, they would’ve heard about the accident by now.” “They would’ve known that I am not at the lab, because they work as paramedics. I just recorded a message for them, and I scheduled it to be sent to them in an hour. I told them all I could tell them, which was that I need to do what is right, and that I love them.”

“When I told myself I had two hours before I turned into a zombie, that is the most optimistic outcome,” said James to himself, “more than likely, I have about ninety minutes.” “I could spend the next few minutes talking to my children before it ends.” James then sent the message he had recorded, but they did not respond. He assumed that they were busy trying to help people in the lab. “They must be busy, and I shouldn’t burden them with the knowledge that their father is dying.”

James looked at the handgun one last time, before telling himself that for the survival of humanity in his world, he needed to do that right thing. “Good-bye Farhome, I am sorry that I couldn’t do more to help you,” said James before saying good-bye.