There is snow on the ground, but even though I am sitting in it, I don’t feel it. I don’t feel the cold, I don’t feel the tingling numbness from exposure to the freezing winds. Snow is falling, but I don’t even notice the flakes that tumble down in perfect silence. I don’t notice anything except what I am holding.
Around me are the signs of battle. Destroyed lives splattered across the pristine landscape, crimson stains slowly turning to brown in the cold. Bodies twisted in pain and death, each one more violent than the last. Weapons are scattered about, useless now to those who had held them, had trusted their lives to them. Friends and enemies, they are all dead now.
I am wounded myself, but it doesn’t matter. My blood drips slowly onto the frozen ground, but I don’t see it. I don’t notice the pain that centers around the wound. It cannot match the pain in my heart. All of my focus, all I can see, is my baby son’s lifeless body as I hold him in my arms.
Snowflakes drift around his pale face, but they do not touch him, respecting this young life taken so brutally. I cannot contain myself. I try to hold back, but choking sobs rack my body as I cling desperately to my son, trying through sheer will power to give him my life, to make the tiny heart beat once again, to make the beautiful eyes open one more time.
Unable to save him, I throw my head back to the sky and scream my rage, my pain, my sorrow.
“Aaarrrgh!” I sit bolt upright in bed, unaware of my surroundings as I release the rage of my dream. As I slowly realize where I am, I tumble out of bed and stagger towards the door, ignoring the sleepy stirrings of Sarah. I entered the hallway and barely glanced at Charlie, who was stepping into the hallway with a gun in his hand, a quizzical look on his face at the sight of my sweat-drenched features. I went to the suite next to mine and moved quickly to the bed. I fell to me knees and looked closely at my sleeping son. The steady rise and fall of his little chest showed me he was just fine and the realization washed over me like a shower and I could feel the relief cleansing the horrific feelings my nightmare had created.
I heard movement behind me and turned to see Sarah coming into the room.
“Everything okay?” she whispered, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I said, standing and turning to face her. “We’re fine. Just had a bad dream, that’s all.” I could see Charlie poking his head in the door.
“All good?” he asked.
“Yeah, thanks.” I replied.
“Same dream?” Charlie pressed.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Same one as before. No changes.”
Sarah looked at me sympathetically. “Come on, let’s get back to bed.” She took my hand and the three of us went back to our respective bedrooms. I caught a glance of Rebecca in the doorway of her and Charlie’s suite. I heard her say, “Dream again?” to Charlie before he shut the door.
Sarah and I dropped onto the bed and I turned the pillow over to lie on the dry side.
“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” I said to Sarah. “I would have thought that the nightmares would have been earlier, when our survival was in doubt and I was doing everything just to stay alive. Nothing then. But now, when things are relatively secure, I’m dreaming about everyone I care about dying all around me. And Jake, he’s dead in my arms. What the hell?” I put my arm over my eyes and tried to get the images out of my head. Lately this dream had been happening more frequently. I wish I knew what it meant.
Sarah put a hand on my chest. “I know I can tell you it’s just a dream, but something is eating at you, something you may not even realize. And it’s manifesting itself in your dreams as the one thing you’re most afraid of.”
“What’s that?” I looked over at her.
“Failure.” She said.
“Failure?” I didn’t understand.
“Think about it, John. You’ve beaten back the zombies. You’re taking back what we lost, restoring our world to us, one small region at a time. You may think you’re not part of it, but people still look to you to lead them, to bring them out of the dark. You’ve been successful in nearly everything you’ve done for this miserable world and I think you’re scared of how hard the other shoe is going to drop.”
I had to admit she had a point. I had been unbelievably lucky and the fact that I had managed to get this far was stunning in the extreme. I guess I might have been waiting for my luck to run out.
Sarah continued. “Problem is, you get scared, you get killed. If you start thinking too much about what you are doing and how it might affect the future, you’re going to hesitate when you shouldn’t.” Sarah put a hand on my chest. “Maybe it’s time you accepted the role you avoided when you left Leport.”
I looked over at her in the dark. “What do you mean.?” I asked.
Sarah smiled. “You’ve created these communities and they are alive, but in order to live, to grow, they need a cohesive leader, someone to step up and say ‘Follow me.’ Whether you like it or not, John, you and Charlie and the Knucklehead Twins are the best leaders this country can produce right now.”
I turned to face her. “Then we’re seriously more screwed than I originally thought.” I tried to make light of the situation, but it wasn’t working.
Sarah smiled at me. “You were the only one in that school that had a vision for the future and you never lost sight of it. You refused to accept living on the fringe, taking what scraps could be had for existence. You carved out a life for people who had no hope, taking from the monsters who were coming to get us. You did that, John. You and Charlie and Tommy and Duncan. You did and no matter what happens, people will never forget you for it.”
“That’s why I came here, I didn’t want…” I started but Sarah wouldn’t let me finish.
“Dammit, John! Face the truth. You’re the leader this country needs to bring it back,” her voice softened. “Everyone else knows it. It’s time you did too.” Sarah snuggled into my arms and murmured into my shoulder. “Now go to sleep. Sunup is coming earlier and earlier.”
I wrapped my arm around her and settled back into my pillow. Like I’m going to sleep now. I thought to myself. But shortly, I was drifting off, and thankfully, no more nightmares.