Last Woman Read Online Free PDF Page A

drew closer I saw them, bodies. Not stacked and wrapped, but scattered about the parking lot of the store.
    Not that my pace could have slowed down any more, but it did. How many were there? Eight? Ten? They were decomposing and looked different than the bodies of the soldiers. These people were shot.
    I could only guess they were looters.
    My God, how long did the city go into despair before it just stopped?
    Next door to the store was a McDonald’s, the windows there, like the convenience store, were busted out. Who would want to loot a McDonald’s? At first people probably went for the cash, then as I stepped into the dark convenience store, I saw they grabbed for anything.
    Food. Water. Drinks. The shelves were bare. Completely, utterly nothing left. Not a candy bar, can of soda … nothing save a few packs of cigarettes. Which surprised me, I of course collected them. Why not take up smoking? It would pass time and who cared if it killed me. There was a lighter on the counter and I took it.
    But I wasn’t there for smokes, food or a drink, I was there for information.
    The rack that held the newspapers was turned over, and a few papers were spilled on the floor, most had been trampled on, scattered about by the people that ran in and out. I saw the magazines behind the counter. No one touched those, most of them were pornographic.
    Then I spotted the Newsweek, the cover image was that of a man in a simple, cloth respirator mask. I stepped over the newspaper rack and to behind the counter, reaching for it. The headline read ‘ Is Now the Time for Prayer? ’ with a subheading of, ‘ ERDS claims millions in days .’
    ERDS?
    The date on the magazine was April 24 th . Two days before the city was shut down. That magazine was my gold mine. Just flipping through I saw the entire issue was dedicated to whatever this ERDS was. It wasn’t something I could glance at, I needed to read it and to do so, I needed to get out of the dark store and find a place to settle.
    That magazine would give me answers.
    Turning, my foot caught it, and I did like so many others, made it fan out more, the pages of it scatter about with my boot … a newspaper. The only one with the front page still viable.
    I reached down and grabbed it.
    It was a local paper and its date was the 28 th . And it was the last newspaper ever to be printed and delivered in the city.
    The newspaper admitted such because under edition it didn’t say, morning or afternoon, it said … last. Last Edition.
    A story on the front page claimed, ‘ City Struggles as Death Toll Reaches 80,000’
    ‘Nowhere to Put the Dead’
    That paper was written not even two weeks after I fell unconscious in the bar. Two weeks and that many bodies? I knew, by the magazine and newspaper, I was wrong in my thinking.
    There was no one waiting on the other side of the bridge, no help outside the city. If I deduced correctly, and I was pretty sure I did by a glance, it wasn’t just the North Side or my city, it was everywhere and the bold two word headline on the newspaper said it all.
    ‘It’s Over!’
    And it was.

10. Absorption
     
    I was numb.
    Perhaps that was why I moved with little concern for my physical well-being. Taking it all in as I pushed forward, I found myself oddly void of any emotions. Was it the shock of it all or had I really shut down so emotionally after the accident that I just didn’t care?
    I supposed some rest, food, and educating myself with the magazine would clarify that.
    Maybe.
    I made it across the bridge into the city. Traffic was lined up on both sides, some vehicles were empty, and most contained bodies, waiting to go somewhere as if life was better wherever they thought they’d go.
    The bridge was blocked by abandoned military trucks. No soldiers, they left their posts, unlike Wilkes and Stevens.
    While there may not have been people there was certainly flies. It was creepy to think that the sole surviving species of the planet earth was the