text: Neil fired the rifle. He hated killing things, but wanted to protect his son from the act. He limped towards the dead rabbit, wincing with every step he took on his bad leg. From the long grass behind him, Henry stood up. Henry was twelve-years-old. Tall and lanky, his body was a far cry from what it would have been had he grown up with the abundance of food that was available before The Fall. A storm arrived as they ate. They huddled together under a tree. Neil put the rifle down in the wet grass and reminded himself why they were out there. The house. Julia’s journals. He closed his eyes. Somehow, he drifted off. When he opened his eyes, the world was a pre-dawn grey. And Henry was gone. Panicked, Neil searched the area. This world was too dangerous for Henry to be out on his own. He wouldn’t know how to protect himself. Anything could happen. “Henry!” Neil called. “Dad?” Henry’s voice called back. Neil took off towards it, moving as fast as his lame leg would allow him. He found Henry at the edge of the tree line. “What are you doing?” “I had to pee and I guess I wandered too far. Look!” Henry pointed to the highway down the hill in front of them. It was clogged with dead and rusted cars. Beyond it, rows of houses sprawled into suburbia. The neighbourhood was almost exactly as Neil remembered it, except that the streets and sidewalks were cracked and covered with shrubbery. He stopped in front of their old house, where they had intended to raise their family. This was supposed to be where Henry grew up. “This is it?” Henry asked as he approached the front door. He was just a baby when they left. Neil winced as he followed Henry. Inside, the house was ransacked. Neil stopped just in front of the staircase. A picture lay broken at his feet. He picked it up.Julia smiled back at him. She was holding baby Henry. “Is that her?” Neil turned around to see Henry looking at him. “Yeah.” Henry walked over and took the picture from his Dad. “Can I keep it?” Before Neil could answer, loud yelling outside echoed through the empty neighbourhood. “Upstairs,” Neil whispered. “Hurry!” At the top of the stairs, Neil darted into the master bedroom. He ripped old items off the closet shelves and found the shoebox tucked against the wall. He took it out and opened it. All of Julia’s journals were there. They detailed every aspect of her life, including their marriage and their early days with Henry. Julia died so early into The Fall that Henry never knew her. It was the one thing Neil wanted to give him. Now he could. Suddenly, the voices from outside were much closer. Downstairs, the front door was kicked in. Neil froze and listened to the muffled voices. The first one swore that he saw the people come into the house. The other replied that they’d better search the place. As they moved around downstairs, Neil very quietly crawled down the front hall. His leg dragged along behind him, a nasty reminder that he couldn’t run away. He found Henry in the nursery. The voices were at the bottom of the stairs now and making their way up. Neil went into the nursery with Henry and waited just to the side of the open doorway. He held the rifle up. The footsteps made their way down the hall towards them and stopped just outside of the door. Neil held his breath, praying the man would just go away. But nobody just goes away. Not in this world. Everyone in the house was startled when the bird hit the window, but Neil was the first to act. He jumped out and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. It was jammed. Before Neil could try again, the man swiped the rifle out of his hands. It landed in the centre of the room. Neil blocked his son from the man in front of him. “We don’t want any trouble,” Neil said. “Please.” The man grabbed Neil by the back of the neck and dragged him to the hallway. “Hey Jack!” he shouted. “I got him! He’s got a little kid with--” The gunshot was deafening. The man’s grip around Neil’s neck loosened as he fell to the ground. Henry stood in the open doorway of the nursery, still pointing the rifle at the now dead man. Jack ran out of the master bedroom at the sound of the gunshot. He made for Henry, but Neil stood in front of him. He easily shoved Neil out of the way. Henry pulled the trigger again, but again it didn’t fire. The man charged towards Henry, but Henry pushed the nozzle of the gun into the man’s belly. Then, he ran forward with all of his strength. They both stumbled backwards, towards the stairs, and went over the top step. “No!” Neil pulled himself onto his hands and knees and dragged himself to the top of the stairs. Two motionless bodies lay at the bottom. “Henry!” The little body at the bottom of the stairs rolled over. Henry smiled at his father. As they packed their bags to get back onto the road, Neil gave the journals to Henry. “Thanks, Dad,” he said. “But you know, I don’t need a bunch of books to tell me that Mom loved me. I know she did. And I know you do too.” Neil smiled. This kid was wise beyond his age. Then again, he had to be to survive in this world. Neil knew then that Henry would be a survivor. He winced as Henry helped him to his feet. Henry put his father’s arm around his neck and supported some of his weight. “Ready?” Henry asked. His father hung off of one arm, the rifle off of the other. Henry led them forward into the Apocalypse.