Read Online The Girl at the End of the World by Richard Levesque - Free Book Online
Authors: Richard Levesque
Tags: Fiction
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I’d seen it so many times by that point that it was no longer shocking. If I’d thought about my parents or brothers or Anna, I don’t think I could have handled it, but I suppose my mind had begun compartmentalizing everything, so I just didn’t go there, didn’t think about it in context with what I was reading on the computer screen.
The disease, whatever it was, had been contained within the Los Angeles area.
According to other pages, people were dying in Arizona and San Francisco.
The National Guard had been called out to the California border to enforce quarantine of the state.
People were dying in New York and Miami, Tokyo and London.
All air traffic in and out of the US had been stopped.
But not before a lot of people had traveled.
The Mexican government was welcoming refugees.
The Mexican government had called out their military, and they were shooting anyone trying to cross the border from the US.
A thousand people had died in Los Angeles County alone.
Ten thousand had died.
A million.
Ten million worldwide.
No one had died. It was all an elaborate hoax.
It was the Chinese.
It was the anti-Christ.
It was the Earth taking its revenge on our species for all we had done wrong.
It was the latest in a series of mass extinctions dating back millions of years, part of a natural cycle. All that remained was to hug one another and say goodbye to the fantasy that humans had been the dominant species on this planet and would stay that way forever.
It couldn’t all be true. And yet some of it must have been. Which things were legitimate and which were the lies…I had no way to know.
I gave up, pulling the laptop’s lid closed and resting my head against the back of the chair. I closed my eyes and listened to the helicopters, the distant sirens, the dogs barking, and the faraway shouts and cries of people who would be dead soon.
Why not me? I thought. Why no headache, no nosebleed?
But then I asked myself why I was even wondering about these things. Did I wish myself dead? Did I want to go out the way all these others had?
No.
But did I want to be alone—no family, no friends, nothing left that I’d ever been able to count on?
No to that as well.
So where did that leave me?
Not wishing for death, but not sure how to live in this new world I’d woken up to.
After a while, I checked my phone. Jen hadn’t texted back yet. Thinking about why she’d remained silent made me nervous, and I got up from the table to wander around the backyard. Leaves and a few dead bugs floated in the pool, and I watched everything move on the current that the filter created, wondering if I should try calling Jen or just leave her be. She knew I was out here. If she needed me, she’d call. But what could I do in that case? Nothing.
The Waverlys had a changing room for the pool with a toilet and shower inside. I went in for a minute, used the toilet and then looked at myself in the mirror. I looked awful, no makeup, hair half pulled out of the ponytail I’d slept in, dirt smeared on my face from where I must have wiped at tears. If I’d smiled, my dimples still would have been there, about the only thing recognizable in the mirror, but I didn’t feel like smiling.
“Oh well,” I said to my reflection. “Forgot to pack makeup and a curling iron.”
Back outside, I decided I couldn’t wait any longer and sent Jen a text.
U still ok?
No reply.
I just looked at the screen and waited for some sign of life from inside the house.
None came.
I began texting other people, friends I hadn’t checked in on since the night before.
No replies at all.
Maybe later , I told myself. Maybe their phones were off, or they were asleep, or had headed out to the desert or somewhere else with their families, somewhere without cell service.
Or maybe not.
By the early afternoon, I was telling myself I should go, that there had to be a better place, a proper place for kids without parents to look for shelter and be
The disease, whatever it was, had been contained within the Los Angeles area.
According to other pages, people were dying in Arizona and San Francisco.
The National Guard had been called out to the California border to enforce quarantine of the state.
People were dying in New York and Miami, Tokyo and London.
All air traffic in and out of the US had been stopped.
But not before a lot of people had traveled.
The Mexican government was welcoming refugees.
The Mexican government had called out their military, and they were shooting anyone trying to cross the border from the US.
A thousand people had died in Los Angeles County alone.
Ten thousand had died.
A million.
Ten million worldwide.
No one had died. It was all an elaborate hoax.
It was the Chinese.
It was the anti-Christ.
It was the Earth taking its revenge on our species for all we had done wrong.
It was the latest in a series of mass extinctions dating back millions of years, part of a natural cycle. All that remained was to hug one another and say goodbye to the fantasy that humans had been the dominant species on this planet and would stay that way forever.
It couldn’t all be true. And yet some of it must have been. Which things were legitimate and which were the lies…I had no way to know.
I gave up, pulling the laptop’s lid closed and resting my head against the back of the chair. I closed my eyes and listened to the helicopters, the distant sirens, the dogs barking, and the faraway shouts and cries of people who would be dead soon.
Why not me? I thought. Why no headache, no nosebleed?
But then I asked myself why I was even wondering about these things. Did I wish myself dead? Did I want to go out the way all these others had?
No.
But did I want to be alone—no family, no friends, nothing left that I’d ever been able to count on?
No to that as well.
So where did that leave me?
Not wishing for death, but not sure how to live in this new world I’d woken up to.
After a while, I checked my phone. Jen hadn’t texted back yet. Thinking about why she’d remained silent made me nervous, and I got up from the table to wander around the backyard. Leaves and a few dead bugs floated in the pool, and I watched everything move on the current that the filter created, wondering if I should try calling Jen or just leave her be. She knew I was out here. If she needed me, she’d call. But what could I do in that case? Nothing.
The Waverlys had a changing room for the pool with a toilet and shower inside. I went in for a minute, used the toilet and then looked at myself in the mirror. I looked awful, no makeup, hair half pulled out of the ponytail I’d slept in, dirt smeared on my face from where I must have wiped at tears. If I’d smiled, my dimples still would have been there, about the only thing recognizable in the mirror, but I didn’t feel like smiling.
“Oh well,” I said to my reflection. “Forgot to pack makeup and a curling iron.”
Back outside, I decided I couldn’t wait any longer and sent Jen a text.
U still ok?
No reply.
I just looked at the screen and waited for some sign of life from inside the house.
None came.
I began texting other people, friends I hadn’t checked in on since the night before.
No replies at all.
Maybe later , I told myself. Maybe their phones were off, or they were asleep, or had headed out to the desert or somewhere else with their families, somewhere without cell service.
Or maybe not.
By the early afternoon, I was telling myself I should go, that there had to be a better place, a proper place for kids without parents to look for shelter and be
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