Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
The first wave hits New York. They're not sure what it is, some claim it was alien, some claim it was biological warfare, but whatever it is, it wipes out most of New York within days. Jim doesn't hesitate, New York is a little too close to Scranton, and whatever this disease is, it's moving quickly. He gathers up Pam and Cecelia and loads them into their SUV and they start heading west. His parents and her parents won't go.
"It'll all blow over," his mother insists. "The CDC will take care of it." He doesn't believe her, and when they pull out of the driveway, he wishes she would just get in the damn car.
They hear news reports those first few days. They stop in Pittsburgh to get gas and supplies. Pam insists they buy a tent and medical supplies, and Jim insists they buy a portable DVD player for Cece, who at eighteen months is being far better behaved than she has any right to be.
The population of Philadelphia is wiped out, and officials in Hazmat suits are figuring out what to do with all the bodies. It's moving north too, whatever this is, and its over in Europe. London, gone. Paris, gone. Pam weeps a little when she hears this. All that time she spent daydreaming about walking around Paris hand in hand with Jim is gone. She daydreams about surviving this now.
She daydreams about Scranton.
They meander south for a while, spend some time in Kentucky and Tennessee. They never spend too long in one place. The news reports are more scattered, but they gather that it is moving across the country at an alarming rate. It's hit the west coast, they hear. And parts of the south. Miami. Orlando.
"The good news," Jim jokes. "We'll never have to suffer through Disney just for Cece's sake."
They don't have to pay for supplies anymore. No one is around to take their money. Instead they just loot and steal and Pam feels terrible at first, leaving a note telling the owners what they took and their address in Scranton to send a bill, but after a while that just seems silly. So they take what they can, Jim grins when they find air mattresses and air pumps. He learns how to siphon gas and they move across the country.
"We can't do this forever," Pam finally says, weeks after being on the road, "eventually we have to end up somewhere."
"How about Portland?" Jim suggests. A cabin out in the woods seems about right, and Portland becomes their new destination.
Outside of what used to be Las Vegas, they find a group of survivors. Pam introduces themselves and Cecelia plays with the other children and they stay with the group for a week or so. They throw around theories about what this is, what to call this, but Jim has been calling it the end of the world in his head, and he thinks it fits.
"I always thought the end of the world would be more dramatic," Pam shrugs. "You know, fire and earthquakes and tornadoes and blizzards. I didn't think it would end like this, so quietly."
Somewhere in Northern California, they stop to pick up a hitchhiker. When Jim slows down, he's startled to see that it's Dwight.
"Dwight?" Pam asks surprised, and what is more surprising is how happy she is to see him, to see anyone they know.
"You two survived? I didn't think you had it in you, well done," Dwight says as he hops into the back beside Cecelia. "And you managed to keep your child alive." He looks impressed, and Jim rolls his eyes and suppresses a smile.
"Where you going Dwight?" Jim asks. Dwight is doing the same thing as they are, constantly moving, never staying in one place too long. He has more news than they do, having listened to police reports right up until there were no more police.
"They say there are pockets of Canada where no one is sick. They think it has something to do with the cold," Dwight reports. "I've been trying to make it up to Alaska for some time now, but my car broke down about two weeks ago."
"Couldn't you have just taken a new car?" Pam asks. There are abandoned cars all over the place, some with the keys still inside, but Dwight shakes his head.
"That's still stealing Pam, even if we are the only humans left on earth." The fact that it's Jim's little family and Dwight left on earth depresses him for days. Cecelia likes Dwight, somehow, and they change their plans.
"I've always wanted to be Canadian, eh," Jim jokes and Pam rolls her eyes and they head up north.
When they reach the border, Pam makes them stop and say the Pledge of Allegiance before becoming Canadians. Dwight has a map and has drawn the best route to where he heard pockets of survivors were staying. They stop a couple hours past the Canadian border, and Pam rocks her daughter to sleep as Dwight goes out hunting.
"I'm excited about seeing other people," Pam tells him as she lays Cece down on one of the air mattresses. "But I'm..." She shakes her head, not sure of what she is trying to say.
"Nervous? Scared?"
"Yes, but it's not that...it's that for the first time in a long time I feel hope that things can be somewhat normal, and if this turns out to be wrong, if there are no survivors, if it's just you and me and Cece and Dwight," she shrugs, and Jim takes her into his arms. "Hope feels nice, you know?" Her voice breaks and Jim pulls her to him. He kisses her soundly and she buries her head in the crook of his warm neck and she clings to his t-shirt as she cries.
When they see civilization, Dwight lets out whoop and Pam can't stop the half laugh, half sob that escapes. Jim slows down and a man jogs to the side of the car with a smile.
"Howdy," he greets. "Welcome to Canada."
And Jim takes a deep breath and lets it out again, and feels something like relief, and maybe hope, and knows that they are going to be okay.
Story Notes:
I have no idea where this came from. Blame it on watching Independence Day. Blame it on Josh Ritter's song "The Temptation of Adam" which is where the title and lyrics come from. Blame it on lack of sleep and summer classes addling my brain. Blame it on the book The Road. Or Zombieland. Any of those will do.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is pure crack. I'm also totally unapologetic about it.
bashert is the author of 37 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked What five letters spell apocalypse? also liked 71 other stories.
