Off To The Races

Little Maggie James had no idea what she was getting into when she narrowed her muddy eyes through the hole in the fence. She squatted down on her knees, the mud squelched on her bagged trousers. She put her hand though her straggly brown hair, the mud from her fingers latching onto her hair. 

She used to love this place. The race track. She used to go with her parent’s all the time. She would get all dressed up and, if she was lucky, her mother would let her try some of her perfume. Maggie would put on her favorite blue hat with the feathers and would watch her father and his horse, Miss James, win every race.

That was gone though, the innocent days of childhood. She wasn’t even sure where her blue hat was, it was probably destroyed like everything else. Everything changed when the infection spread through the genes of Man Kind.  Everyone was dead now, only a few still survived.

They had learned the hard way to hunt and survive, just like Maggie James.

When she spotted the gap in the fence and went to investigate. Even with her jock genes, she was too tall to get into the hole. She brought her foot up instead and kicked. The fence rattled and mud from her shoe hit her face. She wiped it from her face and kicked harder at the fence’s weak spot. The fence had crumpled by the third kick. Maggie moved her wiry brown hair from her face and looked at her work with approval before she stepped over the broken pieces of wood.

The one thing that thrived when the humans left; the plants. They were everywhere; they were infecting the planet as much as the damned infection. Maggie almost had to march through the mud and flowers before she could get to the race track.

You wouldn’t have been able to recognize Maggie if you had known her as a child. As a child Maggie had enjoyed giggling, it had been one of her favorite pass times, that and scrabble. Maggie James hadn’t giggled in over 6 months. She burned her scrabble box last week in a bonfire. She had decided her old life was behind her.

 She burnt her mother’s wedding dress and had danced around it as it crumpled into nothing.

She took the gun from her belt and held it tightly in her cold hands; this was part of the ritual.

She was going to burn down the race track too.

She finally reached the track and jumped over the bushes separating it from the normal ground. Not that it was any different; it was still as overgrown and under kept as the grass on the other side. Now anyway. The grass was dryer here, and less muddy. Perfect for a fire. 

She looked up at the stands and narrowed her eyes as she saw something she recognized. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she moved her way forward and to the stairs leading to the seating area. The whole place was dilapidated; it hurt her heart to see her favourite place so run down and unhappy. It was going to be even harder when it was in flames.  

As she ran up the stands she could almost see they people she had loved most sitting around her. Her mother was buying hot dogs from the hot dog stand. She could see Stan, her old best friend sitting beside her at the very top of the stands. She could see old Mr. Pritchard smiling into the sun. Miss Mary Adams, the loveliest girl in the whole of the world sitting beside him. She could even see her old primary school teacher; Miss Nephew.

They were all dead now.

She could see the world turning as it should. She found herself holding onto the cold metal banister. The sun was hot on her back as she slipped. Looking at the recognized item, she crawled up the last of the steps, all her strength gone.

Reaching forward she looked at the doll. The doll Stan used to own. He had loved that doll; he had been such a beautiful little boy. Little blue eyes, blond hair and a big grin. He grew up to be killed during a massacre two weeks ago. His heart pulled out of his chest, Maggie had held his hand while he died.

She felt tears prickle and escape her eyes as she looked at it. She held it in her arms and rocked herself slowly as she cried. The doll hugged her back, well, she thought it did. Her heart broke in her chest as she looked up at the sun.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” She screamed,“Watch while I burn!” She shrieked at the god she had once worshiped. Nature had won, she couldn’t live anymore.

She got out the lighter and threw it at the dry grass below. It burst into flames quickly. She watched as it danced before her. It slowly crept to her like a thief in the night. She flew down to the floor, her legs giving out. She cradled the doll in her arms as if it was a child.

It didn’t take long for the fire to reach her.

It did however, take a long time for the fire to creep through her veins and set her alight. She held the doll tighter as her thin bones couldn’t fight the pain. She screamed at the sun, looking at it as Stan’s name pierced her lips. The pain stopped suddenly as she fell back onto the cold surface of the floor.

She pulled the doll closer to her as she turned to ash.