Red Line

November 22nd, 2073

Dear Diary,

My name is Alex Humphry. I am 23 years old and I am from Brisbane. This is my first time writing in a diary and, let me tell you, it may be my last. Since the epidemic a few years ago, humankind has been declining one by one. Now there’s just me. I mean, I can’t complain, I guess. I get all the clothes in the world without paying for them. I get all the food in the world without waiting for it. They all disappeared. That stupid powerplant really thought they were doing something when they were testing that stupid elixer for immortality and now...now they all evaporated and left me. Noone believed me when I said that potion wasn’t meant for human consumption and now look at them. Gone. 

All the pets in the world must have starved to death as well. It’s not like I can save them anyway. 

I don’t want to be the last human anymore. 

Clicking the blue pen, Alex creaked closed the pink unicorn book. She looked down at the cover with blurred vision before opening a white drawer and placing it carefully inside with the pen and closing it. She looked at herself in the vanity. A depressed face looked back at her with brown eyes filled with never ending sorrow. She wiped them away with a denim sleeve. Closing her eyes, she breathed in before standing up. She rushed out of the white washed room hurriedly, as if she was on a mission, and straight into the bathroom and pulled out the bleach from under the sink. She continued her mission down a flight of stairs and slammed the bottle onto the large oak table next to an old radio. Snatching a cup from the cupboard, she slammed it shut and sat at the table, pouring the poison into the cup. She listened as the radio jammed out static which made her scoff. As she flung her head back to down the bleach, a voice came through the static. 

In disbelief, Alex slowly lowered the cup and tilted before leaning in to listen to hear the voice again. There it was. An old man’s voice. 

“Roger, roger Red Line. My name is Steve Cambridge. If there is anyone out there, please respond. Over.” 

Still not believing, Alex sat there staring at the radio. She reached for the talking device and clicked the button inwards.

“This is Alex Humphry. Over.” 

She spent years trying to find another person. Was this one? Was she just listening to the voices in her head?

“Ah, Alex Humphry. You have a funny accent. Ha ha. Where are you from, Sweet Pea?” Steve laughed loudly.

Her heart beated rapidly and her breathing became quick. A huge smile came across her face as she heard Steve. She was almost jumping for joy.

“My-my name is Alex Humphry. I am 23 and I am from Brisbane.” She almost shouted.

Her words were excitedly spoken as she was relieved that she was not the only one left on Earth. Not anymore. However, she was the last person in Australia. Steve was from Housten, but that didn’t bother her one bit. She met someone else. He asked her what the time was and she answered that it was 10 in the morning. That’s when she remembered. Timezones were still around. Her heart sunk as she realised that she was going to be alone half the day. 

“I am about to have sausages and mash potato with broccoli, ha ha. My wife used to make this for me all the time before she passed away before the epidemic. I’m an old man you know, ha ha. I still keep myself busy, however. Trying to find people on the radio, building things I never had time to, feeding myself. Over.” He chuckled at the end.

After about three hours of talking, Steve had to go to bed. They said their goodbyes before the static returned. Looking at the bleach, Alex decided against the idea and walked to her outside porch to look at the sky. Steve needed someone. She needed someone. They needed each other.

Everyday, the unlikely pair talked every moment they were awake. It became their thing to ring in saying “Roger, roger Red Line.” If they didn’t, the other person wouldn’t answer which would frustrate the both of them. From winter to spring they talked. He frequently told her stories of his family that once was and how he was an army soldier. 

“Well, uh, not really a soldier. Just the guy that would mop the floors.” He would joke.

She returned the stories. The stories of how many boys had betrayed her in highscool and how she was meant to go to Japan this year if it wasn’t for the lousey epidemic.

“I’m telling ya, I told everyone from the very start that this was not for human consumption.” Which just earnt a whole-heartedly chuckle from Steve. 

“Y’know, Alex. I am 73 years old. I would of had seven grandbabies running around my feet in many different sizes and personalities right now. I miss them all. You take these things for granted sometimes, y’know. My son, the father to those seven grandbabies, said to me that I never used to have time for him as a kid ‘cause I was always working in the office. I never played catch or went to any of his games. Didn’t even turn up to his graduation. Over.”

Thinking about what he said, Alex decided to tell him something personal to her.

“Steve, I’m going to tell you something personal. Over.”

“Who am I going to tell? Over.”

Alex chuckled to herself before speaking again.

“A few weeks before the epidemic, me and my mum got into a fight. At the time I was 17. An age where you do dumb things and say dumb things. Basically, I told her that I hated her. That I wish she wasn’t my mum anymore. A month or two later, my mum bought the elixer and drank it. I never got to say goodbye or that I loved her. I couldn’t even hug her. I just watched her drink it. Watched her look at me. Watched her disappear.” 

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sat on her front porch watching the clouds chase each other across the sky. Steve stayed quiet for a moment to let her cry before continuing with a calming voice.

“We all have regrets, Alex. Now more than ever, but right now--” 

Steve began coughing uncontrollably before static came back to the radio. Through her tears, Alex wracked up the voice to yell through the radio frequency to reach her friend.

“Steve? Steve, are you okay? Steve! Roger, roger Red Line! Steve!”

A chuckle came through the radio and answered the woman’s burning question.

“I’m fine, Alex. Just...breathed the wrong way. Over.”

The pair laughed together and continued to talk. Spring turned back to Winter before becoming Summer once again. The air was hot. Alex sat at the table with the radio, a book and the air conditioning on full blast on her back. A weak voice came through the radio as a greeting to her.

“Roger, roger...Red Line. Good morning, Alex. Hope you’ve had a good day. Over.”

Concerned, Alex asked Steve what was wrong. He wasn’t himself. He was usually full of energy and ecstatic to talk even after he just woke up. He also didn’t return her rogers for the past couple of days.

“Alex. Listen. I have gotten….very sick. I’m an old man, ha… I need medical assistance. I honestly don’t know when I’m… I don’t…”

Alex listened as the once strong and energetic man who did nothing but laugh crack. His sobs came through muffled. After a few minutes he sniffed and continued. Alex began to piece together what he was trying to say and her eyes began to blur with tears.

“I...I may not make it to 100, I’m afraid. I think God is saying that my time is up.”

Reluctant to let him go, Alex talked to him like normal. For the next two days, all was normal. After that, she waited. Day. Night. She waited. For something. A roger. A Red Line. A chuckle. A breath. Any sign of life. She slept, ate, read next to the radio for weeks. Those weeks turned into months. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to let go of the only person she had contact with for years. Ultimately, again, she was alone. Pouring another glass of toxic liquid, she sat infront of the radio once again, glass in hand, and picked up the talker.

“Roger, roger. Red Line. Uhm, so I waited for you. You’re not coming back, are you? I would like to say, thank you. Thank you for bringing me happiness once again. You were the best thing...ever. I hope you see your son and play catch with him. I hope you talk to your seven grandbabies. I hope you see your wife again. When I see my mum, I’ll tell her all about you. I’ll tell her that I love her. This was Alex Humphry. Over...over...over.”

Sobs came from the fragile lady as she choked back the tears, cheersing the radio she downed her drink. Everything became blurry. A small smile came to her face as she laid her head on her arms and closed her eyes.

Once she opened her eyes again, the blur of a white washed room surprised her. Where was she? Back in her room? How? As her hearing came to, she heard muffled yelling from outside the room.

“Mum?” She whispered to herself.

“Alexandria! You come down here this instant!” 

Flinging her blankets off, she snatched the alarm clock that sat on her drawers. Monday, April 25th 2067. She was...17 again. She was 17 again! Happy tears came through her eyes like excited waterfalls as she sprung herself from her bed. She flew herself down the staircase and stopped at the edge of the kitchen. There she was. A short, chubby woman with short brown hair. She seemed tense as she slammed bowls on the marbled bench. As she turned around, sponge in hand, her face went from fierce to concern.

“Alex? What’s the matter?”

Before the mother could take another step, Alex ran up to her and hugged her with all her might.

“I was so scared, mum.” 

Suddenly remembering, Alex searched through her mother’s purse on the bench to find something. To find the poison that plagued the world. She finally found it in a small test tube. Lifting it up, she smashed it on the ground to her mother’s dismay.

“Alexendria Ruby Humphry, what do you think you’re doing?” 

Not too long afterwards, the liquid turned to a solid before disappearing altogether. The pairing watched with wide eyes. Remembering Steve, Alex ran up to the attic. Pulling down the stairs she shimmied her way through dust and cobwebs before finding the large box with a walkie talkie attached.

Slamming it on the brown oak table, Alex sat down in front of it. Her happiness. Her memories. Turning on the station, she took the talker and dialled in to her old friend.

“Roger, roger. Red Line.”

Static.

“Roger, roger. Red Line.”

Static.

“Alex? What are you do-”

“Roger, roger. Red Line.” She said more eagerly before slumping back in the chair.

“Who are you trying to reach?”

“St-”

Suddenly a familiar voice came through the static that made both females shocked and happy.

“Roger, roger. Red Line. This is Steve Cambridge. My age at this day is 67 and I live in Houston Texas. Good evening, Alex Humphry.”

As the years passed, Alex and Steve talked non-stop and she got to see his seven grandbabies. Why were they the only ones who remember the future? Why were they the only ones who were left? Do they have to save the world?