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The Power of the Young

  Dawn of an Era

  By Opal Jones

  The Power of the Young: Dawn of an Era

  Copyright © 2012 by Opal Jones

  Dedications

  Thanks to Taylor Swift for the lyrics from “Eyes Open” Copyright 2012

  Another thanks to Avril Lavigne “Keep Holding On”

  Dedicated to Tom and Sandi, who let my family and I rent out their cabin over the summer, and inspired the setting of this book.

  Opal Jones

  Prologue

  May 3rd, 2020

  “She's beautiful, isn't she?” Gavin asked, peering over his mother's shoulder.

  “Yes” his mother chuckled.

  Only two days ago had little Sara been born. Her eyes were only open a crack, and cared little about what they were talking about.

  As Gavin stroked his little sister's head, he came down with a sudden coughing fit. Although it only lasted a few seconds, he had unknowingly infected his entire household.

  Little did anyone know that over the years, a disease had been spreading throughout the entire human population. It had no symptoms, and no cure. Every man, woman, and child had contracted the illness beginning since early 2012.

  When Gavin, who was only visiting, coughed, his home had been filled with millions of germs.

  His mother waved her hand and asked, “Do you have a cold, Gavin? You sound terrible.”

  He cleared his throat. “No; just a small cough.”

  When ten o' clock came around, everyone had long since gone to sleep. Sara slept peacefully in her crib beside her mother. The door was open just a crack, and no one stirred through the night.

  Then, when midnight struck, horrible things began to happen. Pets of all kinds snuck to their owner's beds. Next door to Sara's house, a man's two Rottweilers crouched next to his bed. With a snarl, the man was quickly killed. This wasn't only happening in Las Vegas, and not even in Nevada alone: all over the globe. Japan, Turkey, Spain, and even the remote corners of civilization were homes to massive homicides.

  For those homes without pets, like Sara's, worse things were occurring. Pipes were bursting, and water was slowly filling homes everywhere. Light bulbs and batteries were bursting, and glass shattered out of random.

  Gavin woke to the sound of the window breaking up above him. Glass showered him and stuck to his rust hair, and he could only stumble out of bed with shock. His legs felt strangely weak, and his green eyes were coursed with red. The disease was taking its course, just as it was supposed to.

  He made it to the door only to drop to his knees, gasping for breath. Gavin's immune system was useless against the illness, as was the rest of the world. He felt his throat, hoping to loosen it. The more he moved, the tighter it got. Once he made it out the door, he collapsed to the floor. Nothing was more than a simple blob of darkness. In a matter of seconds, Gavin stopped shaking, and his hand fell to the floor with a thud.

  Next to Sara, her parents began to shake violently. Their mouths moved, but made no sound. Within moments, they too took their last breath. In only thirty minutes, 99 % of the human population had been killed, by either the disease, animals, or both.

  Early the next morning, an old coyote walked into the open door of the Rigg's home. Shallow water soaked into its fur, and pieces of glass bumped harmlessly against him. As he made his way through the halls, the coyote's old scared eyes were unseeing, yet his ears were twisting and turning at every sound (which was few in between.)

  As he found his way through the main hall, he gently stepped over a young man's body; sprawled across the floor. He turned into the room next to it. On the bed, two bodies lay undisturbed under the striped covers.

  Next to the bed, the coyote could hear a faint rustle. He stood on his hind legs and rested its upper paws on the side of the crib, listening. Then, he heard it again; a small whimper.

  With great strain, he tried to look into the crib. What he saw was little infant Sara. The animal studied her sounds with interest. After a few minutes, he gently picked her up. Taking her out of the house, he took her through the ruined streets of Las Vegas. Cars were upturned and some still crackled with flames. The air was filled with an eerie silence, only confronted by the coyote's footsteps.

  Once he reached what would be known today as the strip, the coyote slowed his pace. Many other animals now crowded the streets. Two dogs had dry blood stained on their lips. As the coyote continued down the street, the other animals eyed him curiously. 'Why was a human still alive?' was their thoughts. They had been promised that all the humans would be dead by sunrise.

  Behind him, the animals followed him indirectly, wondering whether or not to attack the human. Sensing their hostility, the coyote broke into a run. The others ran after him.

  Once he reached the Luxor, he set Sara down gently at the door. Then, the animal set his feet to defend her. Guarding her, the coyote put a big fight to keep her safe, as was his job.

  In the midst of the fight, a thunder clap rattled the clear sky. As all the animals turned to look, a dark red smoke poured out of the Luxor's top. It swirled around in the air, making no sound. The smoke made its way to the ground.

  All the animals backed up, including the coyote, the smoke curled around Sara. It seemed to hiss in pleasure. The smoke somehow picked Sara up and brought her inside as the animals watched.

  Inside the Luxor, young Sara's happy sequels could be heard.