Talking about committing to spend the little time they had together was easier than seeing it through. The air was thick with the unspoken-but ever-present knowledge that they would soon leave the world behind. They started by leaving the quarantine zone.
"Where are we going?" asked Ellie.
"You ever see the ocean?" Riley seemed subdued.
"Yeah, I see it all the time."
"I mean like, really see the ocean. Like from the wharf. Seeing all of it, not just the Charles."
"You know they didn't let us on the wharfs."
"And you did exactly what they told you, right?"
"Yeah, well, only when you weren't getting me into trouble!"
They laughed.
"It's one of those things that you need to see..." Before you die. Riley had almost said it, without thinking, but she didn't mean it. "We'll go there. We'll go see it."
"You know how to get there?"
"Yeah, it's easy. You follow the street with the big Dunkin, keep going till you see the gas station Dunkin on the right, turn there, head down a couple blocks, take a left, and there should be a Dunkin right before the T. Then it's easy."
"I could really go for some donuts right now. Or one of their Coolatas."
"Whattt. You've had a Coolata?"
"No, but I /want/ one. Just look at the pictures, how could you not want one."
Cooling off was the last thing the day needed. Though the sun had been up for awhile now, it was rather chilly for a Boston summer day, leaving Ellie to shiver till she found a long-sleeved shirt that fit her. It wasn't anything new to Ellie, but it was still amazing how much stuff was still left behind in some of the stores, everyday things that people could have used. If they managed to smuggle some of it in, they could've been rich, relatively speaking; people must have lived like kings not so long ago. The size of the stores also amazed Ellie, but it felt eerie to walk through some of the skyscrapers, so impressive on the outside and so hollow and soulless on the inside. She could never fathom enough people existing to fill this much space. Prettier, though, were the smaller brick buildings that felt more like the Boston she knew.
Without any infected to slow them down, the two girls made good time, and they skirted past a series of shorter stone buildings - shorter being relative to the skyscrapers in the distance. These were low and long, some made out of brick and one made out of white granite. A few other buildings had been made out of glass, and like the windows in the area (of which there were many) they didn't fare so well; like, they had been shattered by a combination of humans and nature. The exteriors of the brick buildings were starting to look worn, with patches of the exterior more white than red, and one had a section of its ceiling caved in; what was once a series of once-distinctive buildings were now just another collection of old brick structures. The white building beside had stood the test of time better - minus the broken windows, it looked much the same as it did twenty years ago. Of course, all Ellie saw was a bunch of plain old buildings, no different from the ones on the North Shore, and she was unimpressed when Riley said one of them was the famous "Fan-el Hall." Of greater interest was a prominent glass building in the distance - Ellie gasped when she read the words spelled out on its side. "An aquarium? Can we - "
Riley shook her head no. "Nah, there's nothing there, I've checked. I bet the fish got eaten up quick after the infection. Or maybe they ate each other." Ellie shuddered. "Fish gotta eat, too."
They still walked up by the aquarium, and from there Ellie could see out into the harbor for the first time. She didn't know it then, but she had been looking into some 400 years of history, at a simple body of water that had built a colony, a shipping capital, and then a city. She didn't know of the people who crossed it and saw a light on a hill, or those who birthed a country in its waters. She didn't know that it had brought freedom and prosperity just as it brought epidemics, martyrs, and suffering. The dying did not concern themselves with the dead.
They continued forward, descending down the steps to the wharf, eyes fixed on the sea. A few of the boats were still moored there, and Ellie wondered, like many did in the days when the infection first struck, if they could take one out to sea. But neither she nor Riley knew how to pilot those boats, and those that remained were picked over dozens of times, some aimlessly floating away from shore, a sorry lot compared to the proud luxury yachts that once populated the wharf. Her feet carried her forward, around the winding steps, needing no guidance until she found herself at the edge of the stones that had stood longer than she lived and would stand longer than she would live.
For one moment, Ellie could stand there and let go of everything. She started out at the ocean with her friend at her side, at a world that could fit a million Bostons. The water was a broken reflection of the sky, one spotless, one marred, till they kissed at the edge of the world. She knew that Europe was somewhere on the other side, but she did not know Europe any more than she knew China. She did not understand Europe any better than she could understand the ocean, which stretched further, withstood more, and touched deeper than humans ever realized. Instead, she wondered - if anyone was staring back on the other side, thinking the same thoughts. If they had a plague, too. If they had military academies and water guns and pop music. If theywere happy there. She wondered if people were happy here, in America, which was somehow 'here' even though she had never left Boston. She tried not to wonder why her bite remained the same under her sleeve while Riley's got worse and worse. She tried not to think about death while Riley was still alive.
"It's beautiful."
"It's really something, isn't it?"
Riley had sandwiches in her backpack, and the two of them ate and said little. But they had the sun, the wind, and the ocean; they had themselves and each other, and for a little while it was enough.
There was a sign, right by the Aquarium T stop, that would welcome you to the Christopher Columbus Waterfront Park, a small little park that was comfortably ensconced by the urban landscape. It had been a long time since the fountains had run or the gardeners visited, and the ivy and trees had grown unruly, the cobblestones cracked and worn, undoubtedly causing a number of city planners to roll about in their graves (or wherever they were). Past that was the park itself, which offered a view of the harbor and the ocean, lit by a setting sun. If you squinted, you could see a pair of girls sitting on the roots of one of those oak trees that overlooked the harbor, as they ate Joseph A. Campbell's finest creation - a concoction of chicken, celery, and noodles, drowned in preservatives and trapped in a can, soups that had seen out one apocalypse and would likely survive two more.
Riley grimaced. "Does it hurt for you?"
"The soup?"
"No, the...the infection." Pause. "Do you get like, this headache? Like a million ants punching your brain?"
Ellie thought for a second. "Yeah, just like that," she lied. "Like a billion ants, actually."
"Wish we found some Tylenol or something." Her words were matter-of-fact, her voice was not.
Ellie tipped the bottom of the can, pouring the remainder of the cold soup into her mouth. She didn't know what to say, so she said nothing.
"D'you think there's something after all this, like they say? Some place we go to that's better than here, whether it's with God, or someone else?"
"Do you?"
Riley thought. "I want to," she said, with the conviction of someone who did believe. "You?"
"Yeah, I think so," said Ellie, matter-of-factly. Riley smiled, and it hurt Ellie to see that, but once again she said nothing, and they sat there for a few moments more before Riley began to fiddle with her handgun.
"Three bullets left." Riley leaned to put the gun down, just out of reach when she sat back. "Let's make a pact."
"Like, a blood pact?"
"Ellie. I'm serious." She took a breath. "I've been thinking." Another breath. Then another. "Whoever goes first, the other...ends it."
Ellie stared at her. "I thought you said - "
"I said I didn't want to take the easy way out. And I didn't." The words had rushed out, but now she paused. "I'm glad that I got to spend...what we have left...together. But turning into one of those things, biting people...I don't want that. And I don't want you to, either."
Ellie remembered how Riley had woken her up, just this morning, with a bite. It wasn't as funny anymore.
"Okay." Both girls stared at their feet. "And...after...?"
Riley didn't speak for a long time. "If it's me first, that's up to you. If it's you..." She sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."
Ellie nodded. They sat there against the tree, shoulder to shoulder, and they didn't speak again.
At some point in the night, Ellie had fallen asleep. It was almost dawn when she awoke, kicking herself as she realized what had happened. Every second was precious, every wasted moment something that she couldn't take back. Every heartbeat was another tick of the clock, and she had to cherish and enjoy every last one she had.
"Shit shit shit shit shit. Riley, wake up. Riley."
She shook Riley. No response. She put her hand to Riley's neck, trying to feel a pulse. There was one, but then she remembered it didn't mean a thing. Maybe it was just her senses playing tricks on her, but her friend's skin felt cold, clammy.
"Riley, c'mon! You can't leave me here!"
Riley stirred, and her eyes opened, but there was nothing behind them.
The air that was thick before now felt crushing. Ellie didn't have the strength to be angry or desperate anymore.
When Riley - the thing that used to be Riley - snarled at her, Ellie instinctively jumped back. If there were any doubts left, they were erased.
She lifted the gun as Riley rose to her feet. Her hand was steady, and as she fired all she felt was the recoil of a perfectly shot.
She checked the clip - two bullets left.
It had already been a day, but her wound hadn't gotten any worse, and she now knew it would stay like that forever. Ellie knew how to do it - put the barrel in the roof of your mouth, pull the trigger, and hope you didn't miss. There was no nobility in the gesture, she wasn't killing herself to save someone else's life. It was just a simple, selfish little gesture...but it would be so easy, wouldn't it? No more uncertainty about whether she'd eat. No more sleepless nights followed by lonely mornings. No more waiting for her turn to come. Just a little pull of the finger and it would be over, she could leave this world that had given her nothing but suffering since the day she was born, that had left her with nothing. What did she have left, but herself?
She closed her eyes, and the image of an old, yellowed notebook paper floated to her head unbidden, covered in scrawled words and aged stains. She didn't need to see the paper to know the words. She could hear them in a teenage girl's voice, even though her mother hadn't been a teenager for a long time.
"Life is worth living! Find your purpose and fight for it. Make me proud."
Her stomach churned. Would mom have been proud of this? Would Riley?
She threw the gun away.
Somewhere, Ellie had found a shovel. She stuck it into the ground, turned it, and lifted a clump of dirt, only to dump it to the side. She did this over and over again, long enough for the sun to rise and cross the sky, until there was a big enough hole in the ground. After trying to lift the body into the hole, she settled for pulling it. Then, she set about putting the dirt back to where it was. The possibility of stopping never occurred to Ellie.
She made a cross, out of sticks and some tape that she had found. She bound it tight, she made it right - it was important that everything had to be /right/ - and planted it at the head of the grave. She looked at the things that were Riley's - used to be Riley's. She tried to make the pistol stand in the dirt, like they did for the dead military members, but it wasn't a rifle, so she rested it atop the grave. The backpack, she placed at the foot of the grave. There was nothing left but Riley's pendant. The chain was broken, the lettering hard-nosed and pragmatic. It said nothing about her but her name, number, and affiliation. It was cold and simple, military efficiency and practicality for a girl who hated both. Ellie hesitated. Riley threw it away. It wasn't part of her, anymore. It didn't feel right to bury it with her. But more than that, Ellie wanted - needed - something to remember her by. She slipped the pendant into her pocket. She had no photos; this would be her little memento, likes those black-and-white photos sealed away in pocketwatches, reminding people of the past just as it reminded them that time was passing by. She would just have to remember what Riley looked like when she tossed that life away, the life of a Firefly, and Ellie promised herself she would, even when she was old and wrinkly and lying on her deathbed.
They always said something at funerals. Ellie had been through a few, and at those she would close her eyes and pretend that somewhere, they could hear her, even if all she did was think it - if she had anything to say at all to the people she barely knew. They would still hear, even if they never spoke. But someone living always spoke, too, someone always /had/ to, and now that task fell to her. What could she possibly say? How much the world loved her? What a good person she was? Riley would've hated that shit. How much /she/ loved her? That Riley was the last living thing in the world that meant something to her?
She looked at the pendant in her hand, and tears began to well up.
"You said you wouldn't go," she sobbed. "But you left me behind."