Jodie's attention had been divided between her research work — tedious but critical fact-checking and citation — and her young daughter, Zooey, on whom her eyes flitted back to frequently as the girl roamed across the technicolor playground amidst other hawk-eyed mothers and their carefree prides and joys. But the prosaic nature of her reading and note-taking had been like a sedative to Jodie and she had soon found herself drifting off...
Appalling scenes had plagued her usually phlegmatic mind, but disappeared like smoke when again she awoke. Remembering herself and her surroundings, Jodie started at the realization that she had lapsed into boredom-induced slumber while watching over her daughter (in front of a coterie of unforgiving stay-at-homes, no less!).
Jodie exhaled. Maybe I wasn't out for as long as it felt, she thought. Replacing her glasses, which had slid off her face to rest against her chest on their chain, she meant to track Zooey down among the crowd of children only to be met with a sight that made her stomach drop.
Before and all around her, all the children were lying still — perfectly, wholly still — on the ground. At first, Jodie's mind grabbed onto the idea that one of the more domineering mothers had instituted some playground-wide naptime, but then she noticed women who were lying down, too. And others who were... not. Others whose heads lolled, arms dangled, legs splayed. Others who looked...
"You're... you're all dead..." she stammered quietly to herself. A shiver ran up Jodie's spine that spread through her body and wouldn't stop. Trembling, her legs seemed to stand up of their own volition, carrying her past the inert little bodies as her tearing eyes darted about in frantic search for Zooey. But none of the crumpled forms belonged to her daughter.
She called Zooey's name suddenly like a klaxon, like a train whistle, like a siren hoping to lure in its prey. Once she'd began, her mouth and vocal cords wouldn't stop. Jodie staggered about, moving further and further away, possessions, research and life forgotten as she pleadingly repeated her daughter's name. She thought maybe she'd gone insane.
She finally ceased her cries when there arose the gruesome sound of others. Were they even human? Jodie didn't know, didn't care. She wanted away from them. She needed to keep Zooey away...
The sky was growing dark. Had it gotten so late in the day? Jodie was drawn to a brilliant beam of light in the distance that etched the clouds above in a gloomy, foreboding way. She felt dizzy when she stared at it too long.
She didn't know what had happened, or how. Some sort of terrorist strike, perhaps? A wave of poison gas that had somehow not claimed her? It didn't matter. But if Zooey was still alive, if she had thought her mother one of the dead, she might have fled herself to that light... Yes, it was the only thing that made sense. Like rowing towards a beacon out of the stormy sea, like a moth fluttering towards the flame. Whatever that light was, Jodie surely must find her daughter there. Surely, yes, surely.
