Just Your Average Girl

[Autumn]

I'd like to go and take some time to reflect here. I actually can take the time to do that right now since we just finished going to the store and everyone seems a bit run down by it. By ...going to the store I mean me and four others from the camp running into the market while two others kept watch outside and tried to find what we could among the shelves that hasn't already been taken. Slim pickings, let me tell you. Then again I don't know what the hell they expect after all this time. Why the fuck do we even bother? You'd swear everything happened like...yesterday. 18 years. EIGH-FUCKING-TEEN and they expect the stores to still have food in them?? What the hell? I guess old routines die hard or something... Though miracles upon miracles I found a can of ....get this... pickled beets. Oh yum. I can hardly contain myself.

By the retching that is currently happening to my right it seems one of my "friends" can't either. The run took a lot out of him. I feel myself gagging a bit and have to take a few steps back to stop having to hear and smell it...hear it anyway but at least the smell is gone for now. We don't have to do this often, just when someone fucks up the rations we have to set up for winter. It lasted a bit longer this year it seemed, but I think we're good now, the stuff in the little greenhouse is almost ready. ...The guy's stopped throwing up for now, though he'll probably do it again before we get back.

Isn't that a lovely way to start my story? But that's how it is. That's my daily life and that's the NICE part of it. My name's Autumn (yes I know my parents named me after a season. Yes I realize how lame that is, but for fuck's sake, at least it's not "Hope", you wouldn't believe how many girls my age are named that. Even funnier are the ones that are named that but were born right when the virus hit and ended up being infected after all.) On that note I guess I should mention that yes, I'm 17 years old. You do the math and figure out what the hell that means to me. I say I'm 19. I don't doubt I'm not the only one who does this but as far as everyone in the camp knows, we're all "infected" and that is how it's going to stay.

I'd like to say I'm joking about all this and actually live in a house by the ocean over in Seaford on Long Island or something. But I don't. I live here in this godforsaken cesspool of a city that seems to have been forgotten and left for dead despite the fact New York City was once a shining jewel of the States...or so I've been told. Has always looked like a giant pile of shit to me. Probably always will.

[Autumn]

My life's always been a "shut up and do as you are told and we'll make it through this okay" sort of thing. First it came from my dad, then he died and it became the "elder" of our camp. Then he died and it went to the next and the next and so on. There really aren't a lot of us here where I'm at in Chelsea...I'd say maybe 50 tops. There's other camps and we get along with some of them, don't with others. Crime's pretty bad but at least we're trying to regain some sort of civilization. I hear other parts are horrible (central park comes to mind) and pretty much everyone's been trying to keep with their own kind. It's probably dangerous for a group of us to remain like this, there's rumors of black helicopters coming and landing in zones like this one where infected are known to be and just wiping everyone out. Hasn't happened here yet. Some say it doesn't happen at all. Crazy talk and all that. I don't know what to believe. Or who for that matter.

As we head back to camp the others are already talking up a storm about looking for more areas to produce food and all. They'll probably send some scouts out to see what they can find. I really hope they don't make me one of them. Scouts don't come back a lot of the time.

Camp, ours at least, is located in the old Hotel Chelsea, West 15th between Eighth and Seventh. Most of us are up on the 7th floor, elders are up on 8 and 5 and 6 have the kinda green house things we've managed to build. It's a pretty nice place, I guess, all things considered...

We get back and are told by those on guard duty in the lobby that two more have died. No one really seems phased by it anymore. You'd think in being such a small group we would, but nope, no one except the one guy's younger sister seems to even really care. I remember being her, having the person I thought was going to take care of me forever suddenly gone, it sucked...it still sucks. Still haven't cried over it though, don't think I have the time for that. I don't remember my mother much, apparently she took to the virus real bad and died shortly after I was born. They said she was a young death even for all this. My guess is there was more to it but with the outbreak happening they just blamed whatever they could and moved on. I don't hold it against them.

I don't remember a whole lot about those first years. I was too damn young.

After ignoring our excursion group's leader's report to one of the elders I head to my room. I got a window that overlooks the street. The furniture here was once real nice but hasn't really been cared after. I don't care, I have a bed. A real bed. And even the sink in the bathroom still works, though I've been told plenty of times to not use it. The old place kinda buzzes a bit during the day, electricity sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. Yeah...guess this isn't so bad.

[Autumn]

Morning comes way too early. We don't go out at night, the biker gangs start going on patrols and some people even say that some of those damn kids from the park roam out a bit past their borders. And then there's rumors of cannibals in the damn subways (which sounds fucking ridiculous to me) but really, everyone apparently thinks it's just better to stay inside so we do as we're told.

When I was 14 some other kids about my age slipped out of a fire escape one night and went off a "fuck the man, you're all paranoid" thing. They never came back. I'd like to think maybe they just found somewhere better to hole up in but we all know better.

I get woken up by one of the 20-somethings, his name is Scott, decent enough guy I guess. But waking me up about an hour before the sun is supposed to come up really only means one thing - I'm on the scout team. Fuck. That makes Scott get a glare and a gesture from me that I probably don't mean. I feel bad about that but he's already left before I can apologize for it.

Getting dressed isn't really a big thing, pulled on a pair of jeans that really honestly have seen better days, but at least the holes give some semblance of cooling in this miserable ass weather. Exchange the shirt I slept in for a different one that I've only worn twice this month already so it's still good before we all can get a chance to wash stuff, tug on the pair of blue and green striped knee-high socks that really I think I like too much but they at least bring a smile whenever I think about them. Finally are my boots and the laces on the right one snap about halfway up but they'll work for today before I'll see if I can't barter another set off someone in one of the other camps.

There's 3 others already sitting around the huge pieced together mickey-moused table in the common area getting something to eat while one of the elders is sitting about trying to get the radio to tune in. Supposed to be a new message from the pres today and none of us younger people give a fuck but the older ones are clinging to that hope that what he says is true and we're just the only place that's really screwed up. I can't stand the music they play. There's a few other pirate stations out there but they've been slowly dying out as their DJs bite the big one. The one from the president is the only real standard reliable one. Today's over optimistic blurb will be repeated throughout the day just to make sure every "good American" hears it.

Just as I thought it's fucking over happy and stupid. Message itself gets cut off early but the same fucked up sappy happy sweet music comes on. As I'm eating breakfast (chunky oatmeal ...at least it's got some chopped strawberries in it, one of the older ladies must have set this up for us. I didn't know they were ripe yet. Probably was Mary, she's got this "mom" complex even though she doesn't have any kids...calls all of us her kids. Sweet lady, gonna be a shame when she dies, probably only as a few more years on her.) they're starting to talk about taking the taxi. Fuck. I fucking hate that god damn thing. It's the only automobile the entire camp owns, it barely runs, it smells like someone died in it, and we only use it for important things across town. Guess they weren't joking about this being kinda serious...

At least I get to get out of here for a day, right?

[Autumn]

I've got the window down and damn the cool morning air feels great. I like the way it blows my hair around to the point where I really can't see much. That's fine, I'm not on look out right now. Buildings are making long shadows everywhere and everything has that slight pinkyorange tint that morning always does. For once I feel comfortable as the air has circulated enough through the damn taxi to not make me feel like I'm going to hurl. Only three of us are headed out today and I'm the youngest so I get stuck in the back seat. We keep mostly to back roads as the main ones are always watched. Each of us was given a gun, to protect us from others. We got told we really need to watch for Jah's kids. Guess they're getting more active.

They're making us go out to Lexon Hill. Say it's up north enough and close enough to the fucking park that there might still be supplies there. There's a few hospitals in that area, a college or two as well so everyone's real optimistic about this. "You guys come back with anything and you'll be heroes" we were told. I hate that kind of pressure but I think we stand a chance, really.

Two along with me are Calvin and Franky. Cal's 18, supposed to be a year younger than me, he feels like the world jipped him since his mom popped him out a week before the virus hit. He takes the fact he's infected as a personal thing with God and hates every Chosen kid there is. Says one day we're all gonna drop dead ourselves and it would serve us right.

Them right. Can't fuck up like that. Would serve them right. Fuck if Cal only knew what was sitting right behind him...

Franky's in his mid 30s and always has got a kind smile for me so I don't mind that he's driving or that we're in this together. He knocked some broad up when he was in his teenage years and apparently has got himself a Chosen kid out there. Pretty sure it's a daughter. Almost wonder some days if he knows what's up with me and just is kind enough to not say shit.

I find that my hands are tightening around the ancient ass .30 Carbine I was given. I'm a shit shot with a pistol so they let me use this baby when I go out. Was only given 50 rounds. Should be more than enough to defend myself if I make every shot count but fuck I hope it doesn't come to that.

Franky says we're going to park the taxi just on the outskirts of town if we can find a place where it won't get jacked. Says we're going to stick together on this one since it's "a high degree of danger". I think he said that just to sound all smart and official, like some sort of leader. That's fine with me, someone's got to do it, might as well be him. Cal's making jokes about shooting up the children. Says he hopes we run into some so he can put them out of his misery. Franky says it's not funny. Cal doesn't apologize. I keep my mouth shut.

[Autumn]

We drew straws to see who gets that unlucky task of going in first to do a quick sweep. None of us like it but we've always been told that it's safer to send in one person first, a full scout crew can make too much noise, one person can get in, spot any other scavengers, assess the situation, and then the group can make the decisions on what to do from there. Cal got the short end of it. I was holding my breath the entire time and when Cal gets picked I can finally breathe again.

That was about 5 minutes ago. Cal went into the hospital, me and Franky are sitting outside on one of those little grassy patches that sometimes happen between lanes in a street...our backs up against an old Nissan Pathfinder. Cars like that kinda crack Franky up for some reason, he said they had no place in the big city but now it seems to fit. I don't really get it.

"You know, your dad asked me to watch out for you." Franky's voice is low, just above a whisper as if what he's saying is some great secret. I know it's more to keep it from anyone else who might be around from hearing us.

"Why the fuck would he do that?" A give him the respect of at least looking at him when I talk, it's just a sidelong glance but he gets the idea of what I'm getting at.

"He told me about you."
"That's not a whole lot to say..."
"No kiddo, it's a fucking hell of a lot. He took a serious risk putting you with all of us."

"Shit..." I take that time to look away and back towards the hospital. I don't want to talk about this right now. I don't want to even acknowledge it. Not when Cal's around somewhere. Not when no one should know. Not ever.

"I won't tell anyone."
"You better not."
"Autumn..."
"Yeah?"
"You can trust me, ok?"
"Thought we weren't supposed to trust anyone."
"Look, I made a promise to your Pops, I don't break promises."
"Yeah, whatever..."

Franky knows to let it drop there. I don't bother looking at him for fear of seeing the guy get all emotional on me. I can hear him take a deep breath then there's footsteps coming back towards us. Instinct and lesson comes into play and before I know it I've got the butt end of the small rifle up against my shoulder. Finger's not on the trigger...not yet. Don't know if it's the same with Franky and his pistol. Don't care.

Cal doesn't even bother to say something shitty at us when he sees the stuff pointed at him as he comes around a van.

"We got a problem."