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.They're all in varying states of decay, some new, some old, some even that are recognizable.There's a few kids from school, a woman from my mother's book club who I can't remember the name of and feel incredibly guilty over, and then there's her.There's my mom, standing right next to Holly's dad, next to her mother, next to a couple that looks an awful lot like Dawson.Dead.They're all dead.“Mom?” I say and then tears are falling, so many tears, too many.I take her hand, but she doesn't respond, not even a little.Her skin is unbelievably pale and super thin, like rice paper.Her eyes are the worst part though.I remember them being brown and muddy, like they were too full of emotions to ever come clean.Now they're glossy and kind of pale, like coffee with too much milk.It's then that I know I believe Holly completely about souls and life and death because my mother's soul is not her in body.I can tell.There's such a noticeable difference that I'm surprised that nobody's ever mentioned it to me before.“How did you find her?” I ask as I look over at Holly and see that she's crying, too.“I can feel them all,” she tells me as she places her hand over her heart and looks up at the sky.The sun is rising round and beautiful, lighting up the morning with a renewed sense of hope.This is over.This is all going to be over.I can even hear helicopters in the distance, a sign that there is other life out there.“They're all inside me,” she whispers as she drops her gaze to mine and I can see a million flames burning there.It's the souls of all the people, waiting to get out, waiting for Holly to let them leave this place for another.That's my guess anyway.Maybe later, I'll ask her.Right now it just seems too inappropriate.“I know where they all are, what they're all doing.” I don't ask how that's possible, just lean forward and kiss her.I've seen the girl do too many amazing things to start questioning her now.“How many?” I ask, but Holly shakes her head.She won't tell me, but that's okay, I understand.This isn't about mourning the past, this is about starting over.It has to be because if we were to think about all of the people and the things that we lost, it would be too much.This is a fresh start because it has to be.It can't be anything else.Holly turns away from me and approaches her parents.She stands up on her tiptoes and kisses them both on their foreheads before turning to my mother and doing the same.I follow suit and then we both stand silently before Dawson's parents, guilt riding us hard.“If we hadn't gone over there … ” Holly starts, but I cut her off.“Then Dawson would be dead, too,” I say and I think I actually believe that.“Should we tell him?” I wonder and Holly shakes her head.“No,” she says softly.“I don't think he can handle it.” She kisses their foreheads, too, and takes my hand again, pulling me to the head of her birth mother's great army, one that spans generations and decades and all walks of life.The magic was like an equalizer in a way, stripping us down of gender and race and social standing and putting us all in the same place.I'm not saying the apocalypse was a good thing, but that's what it was and now its effects will be felt by all of us.“Stay with me,” she says as she swallows hard and I see that her hands are now glowing with that black and silver light from before.“Forever,” I say as I move behind her and put my arms around her waist.Holly smiles gently and closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and relaxes completely into my arms.That same warmth I feel when Holly touches my zombie arm spreads out from her body and into mine, down into the ground and across the golden grasses and the pine trees and the oaks.It spreads past the lake and into the dirt roads that lead out to the highway and then even further, into the cities and the oceans and mountains until it touches everything somehow, someway.I put my hands over Holly's belly where someday soon our child will be growing and think how wonderful it is that our love saved the world, but then again, that's how it always works, isn't it?I watch in respectful silence as the dead fall away, collapsing to the ground like they've been pushed by a quiet breeze, ever so gently, ever so softly.It's awe inspiring to see them all together like that, like they're a community in and of themselves, like death brought them together for a reason.I close my eyes, just like Holly, and listen as the silence dissipates and slowly, like they've been waiting for this moment for awhile, the birds burst into vibrant, brilliant song.***Five Years After …Holly and I name our first child 'Martin' after the boy we lost in the refuge and our second 'Patricia' after the woman that started it all.Dawson nearly has a heart attack when he hears, but eventually, he calls to tell us that he understands, but that we can expect him to call her Patsy or something.Holly agrees to that, thankfully, because I think Martin is starting to fall in love with Valerie and Dawson's daughter, Mia, and although they're only four years old, I think it would break their hearts to be separated.Initially, Dawson and Holly also have a fight over the tabby cat but decide that it would be happier living with us.Holly names it Nelly after my mother.The world is not the same place that it once was
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