by Mark Goodwin
“Thanks.” Josh smiled. “Karen, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Where am I?”
“Baptist Health.”
“Could you do me a huge favor?”
She glanced back toward the door. “I don’t want to get into any trouble.”
“No. Nothing like that. Could you just call my wife? Let her know where I am and that I’m alive?”
“I suppose that couldn’t hurt anything.” She looked at the injuries on Josh’s wrist. “I don’t know what you did. I mean, you don’t seem like a bad person. But what they’re doing to you—it’s not right. I wish I could do more.”
“If you just give her a call. Tell her my condition, and let her know that I won’t be here long. Tell her that if anyone comes to visit, make sure Emilio doesn’t come.”
“Sure, but I doubt that guard is going to let you have any visitors.”
“Well, maybe they can just walk by the window and wave.”
“Yeah. I’ll take a break right after I leave here. I’ll give her a call on my cell. What’s the number?”
Josh provided the number to Karen and thanked her again. He knew he was taking a chance, but if the DGS agents took him back to interrogation he’d eventually break and give up the location of the compound anyway.
Josh wondered if he was still receiving sedatives. He felt drowsy, despite having slept for nearly two days. He flexed his calf muscles and moved his free arm. Though it was restrained, he even moved the arm which was cuffed to the gurney frame, as much as possible. Very stiff, but I’ve definitely recovered from where I was, he thought. If I get the chance, I should be strong enough to move. But I need them to cut the tranquilizers. He tried to fight the tiredness but soon drifted off to sleep.
He awoke several hours later to a faint whisper.
“Mr. Stone,” said Karen.
“Hey.” He opened his eyes.
“I brought you a juice box and a sandwich. Stash it under your blanket if the agent comes in here. We’re telling them that you’re restricted to IV fluids.”
Josh took the food offered to him. “Thank you.” He opened the sandwich and took a bite.
“I spoke to your wife. I explained your condition—that you probably couldn’t have visitors, but just coming by and waving through the window might lift your spirits.”
Josh sat up as best he could. “How is she?”
“She said to tell you that everyone is okay, but they miss you terribly. She’s going to try to stop by. If she can’t come, she said maybe Christina could.”
That was all Josh needed to hear. “Did she say when?”
“Visiting hours are over at 9:00 PM. She said she’d try to be here before that.” Karen glanced out the door. “I’m afraid you might be discharged from ICU tomorrow. And the men in black don’t sound like they plan on leaving you here any longer than necessary.”
“Thank you for that. Am I on any type of sedative?”
“Yes. That’s Nurse Matthews’ strategy for keeping you here long enough to get better. She thinks once the men in black see that you’re conscious, they’ll demand that you be released.”
Josh smiled. “It’s a good strategy. But I think I can fake it if you don’t mind cutting them off.”
“I’ll relay your request to Nurse Matthews.”
“How am I?” he asked.
“Your kidneys are fine. That was the big risk of being so dehydrated. We weren’t sure when they first brought you in. Fortunately, you hadn’t reached the point of no return. Your electrolyte count was way out of whack. I believe we have that all sorted out now.”
She looked out the door. “But I worry about how you’re being treated. You should have your wife contact an attorney. Even prisoners have rights.”
Josh smiled at the quaint notion. “This isn’t America anymore. This is the Global Union. All of the rules have changed.”
Karen gave a grievous sigh. She shook her head and patted Josh’s hand. “My shift will be over soon. If I don’t see you, God bless.”
“God bless you, too. What time is it?”
“Almost 6:00 PM.”
Josh indicated toward the door. “And the tall one is out there right now?”
“Yes. I think the short one takes over for him soon.”
Josh smiled. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.”
“I wish I could do more.” She gazed at him with a mournful expression for another second, then turned to leave.
When she’d gone, Josh finished his sandwich and juice box. He stowed the packaging evidence beneath the gurney mattress. Josh watched local news coverage of the worsening outbreak of the Red Virus in the Louisville area.
Josh closed his eyes when he saw Agent Hans come in for the shift change. Turner followed him in. “Still out?” asked Turner.
“Yep. This is driving me nuts. Carole-Jean should assign some grunts to babysit,” said Hans.
Turner replied, “She’s punishing us. She knows we shouldn’t be wasting our time here. What’s the staff saying?”
“That nurse practitioner who treated him when we first brought him in said they’re trying to get his kidneys to start working properly. She said if they don’t, they’ll have to put him on dialysis.”
“Does that sound right to you?” asked Turner.
“I looked it up,” said Hans. “It’s a real thing with severe dehydration.”
“Yeah, but do you get the feeling they’re just shining us on? Do you think he’s really that bad off?”
Hans responded, “Why would they lie? He doesn’t mean anything to them. Besides, this place is bursting at the seams. They had patients sleeping in the hallway last night. The entire other wing of the hospital has been dedicated to treating people infected with the virus.”
Turner paused before speaking again. “I’m not so sure. These people are do-gooders. They have a different mentality than guys like us. They look for the best in everyone. They’d try to save Charlie Manson if he were on the operating table in front of them.”
“Maybe you have a point,” said Hans. “If he doesn’t come around by tomorrow, I’ll order a second opinion.”
“Shhhh!” said the old man who’d been trying to watch TV.
“Hey! Relax, old-timer!” said Hans.
“Come on. Let’s leave them alone.” Turner’s voice trailed off as he left the room.
Josh was not looking forward to being remanded back into the agents’ custody. He hoped help would come before it was too late. He kept track of the time by monitoring the passage of television shows. The old man regularly changed channels, so he had to pay close attention.
Eight o’clock came and still no sign of visitors. A tall black orderly wearing green scrubs and the customary white paper face mask walked into the room with Agent Turner.
“I have to move him,” said the orderly. “When it’s two people to a room, we can put up a screen for the sponge bath. But with four people in here, I don’t have any way to protect the patient’s privacy.”
“It’s all men in here,” said Turner. “No one is going to care.”
“I care!” said the old man. “I don’t want to be looking at that!”
“Then don’t look, old man,” replied Turner.
The orderly interrupted the exchange. “It’s hospital policy, sir.”
“Then just skip the bath.”
“I can’t. This patient has already had complaints from the staff about body odor.”
Turner sighed as if exacerbated by the situation. “Where are you taking him?”
Josh did not want to be moved. But he could not present a protest without alerting Turner to the fact that he was much further along in his recovery than the nursing staff had led him to believe.
The orderly replied, “The laundry room is the only space available. We have a bathing station set up there.”
“I’m coming with you,” demanded Turner.
“I understand.” The
orderly wheeled the gurney out of the room and down the hall.
Josh opened one eye slightly to see Turner following close behind.
After a long trip through the hospital corridors, they finally reached the laundry facility.
“Can you remove his handcuffs? I have to turn him onto his side to bath him properly.”
“Absolutely not,” said Turner.
“Then I’m going to need your assistance. I’ll need you to hold his restrained arm while I turn him onto his opposite side. Then, I’ll need you to hold his back while I wash him.”
“You need to get someone else to help you with all of that.”
“We’re seriously short-staffed, sir. The virus has this place filled to capacity. And on top of that, everybody is calling in sick. Most of them are afraid of being infected.”
“Fine,” Turner grunted. “Can you get me some gloves?”
The orderly pointed to a supply shelf. “They’re right next to the dryer sheets.”
The agent pulled a pair of blue nitrile gloves from the box. While his back was turned, the orderly slipped his right arm around Turner’s neck, and the left one behind his head. He placed his right hand at the crook of his left arm and squeezed. Turner fought, kicking against the shelves. Josh sat up on the stretcher and removed the IV needle from his vein. The agent grabbed his pistol, but the orderly dropped all of his weight to Turner’s right side. Both men fell to the floor and the gun skidded across the room.
Seconds later, the orderly emerged from the floor holding Turner’s keys. He quickly removed the handcuffs and tossed a pair of scrubs to Josh. “Put these on.”
Josh hastily pulled the green pants on and then slipped the uniform shirt right over his hospital gown. “Do you have any shoes for me?”
The orderly was back on the floor, tying a plastic trash bag over the head of the unconscious agent. “See if his will fit you.”
Josh pulled off Turner’s shoes and slipped them on. “A little tight.”
“Try to make them work for now, and we’ll swing by the mall after we get out of here.”
Josh grinned at the man’s ability to stay calm. “This ain’t your first rodeo, is it?” Josh removed Turner’s belt also. He put it on under his scrubs then retrieved the agent’s pistol, using the belt to keep the gun in place.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” asked the orderly.
Josh looked at his eyes. “Solomon?”
“Yeah, now help me get him up on the gurney.”
Josh lifted up the agent’s feet while Solomon lifted his shoulders.
Solomon pulled the sheet over Turner’s head. “Get a surgical mask and put it on.”
Josh did so.
An older female orderly pushed a laundry cart into the laundry room. “What are you guys doing in here?”
Josh said, “This patient is deceased and the morgue is full. The doctor told us to find somewhere to put him.”
Her voice jumped three octaves. “Well, you can’t put him in here! Take him down to the loading dock! What’s the matter with you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Solomon lowered his gaze and began pushing the cart.
“What are your names, anyway?”
“Josh Turner,” replied Josh. “We work at Norton’s, but they said you guys were short-staffed. Our boss sent us over here to help out for the day.”
She looked at the two men and the dead agent for a moment. “Thank you all for helping out. I didn’t mean to be so abrasive. Everyone is under a lot of stress.”
“Happy to help, ma’am.” Josh pulled the gurney while Solomon pushed.
They reached the elevator and got inside. On the way down, Solomon said, “Fast thinking back there.”
Josh nodded. “I appreciate you sticking your neck out to spring me.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna owe me one.”
“Sure. Where are you parked?”
“By the loading dock. It has the least cameras.”
“That’s convenient. We can leave him by the door,” said Josh.
The elevator doors opened, and they pushed the gurney out. They followed the signs to the loading dock. Once inside the receiving bay, they were confronted by a man in a hazmat suit. “You can’t be down here without a suit! And cadavers are supposed to be in body bags.”
“He’s not infectious,” said Solomon.
“You don’t know that,” said the man.
“Okay, we’ll go get suited up and come right back with a bag.” Josh looked at row after row of black bags lined up on the floor of the receiving bay. He guessed the room had at least a hundred dead patients.
“Hurry,” said the attendant.
Once out of the receiving bay, the two of them found the nearest exit door. Upon leaving the building, Solomon said, “Keep your mask on.”
Josh followed him to an old Toyota Corolla, which had been in multiple fender benders. He jumped in the passenger’s seat and closed the door just as Solomon put the vehicle into gear.
When the car was out of the hospital parking lot, Solomon pointed to the back seat. “I brought a change of clothes for you and some food: chips, nuts, Gatorade, some sandwiches.”
Josh breathed a sigh of relief. He knew they could still encounter trouble, but at least he had a fighting chance.
CHAPTER 15
The Party seeks power entirely for its own sake. We are not interested in the good of others; we are interested solely in power. Not wealth or luxury or long life or happiness: only power, pure power. We know that no one ever seizes power with the intention of relinquishing it. Power is not a means, it is an end. The object of persecution is persecution. The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power. Now do you begin to understand me?
George Orwell, 1984
Upon returning to the compound, Josh self-quarantined in a tent near the back of the property. A walkie-talkie served as his connection to the rest of the group. Late Saturday evening, Josh spoke with Stephanie and Micah over the radio.
“I just want to hold you in my arms. I thought I’d never see you again,” said Stephanie.
He replied, “I know. I felt the same way.”
“What about Solomon? He was with you all that time,” asked Micah. “He could have been exposed to the virus.”
Josh answered, “Solomon is doing a week-long quarantine at the camp where his group is staying.”
Micah said, “But they gave you a vaccine. I don’t understand why you’re in quarantine.”
“They might have given me a vaccine.” Josh held the talk key. “It also could have been an injection of active virus. These people are pure evil. I can’t begin to guess what they did or why they did it.”
Micah argued, “She was trying to keep you alive—to get information on the compound.”
“That’s how it seemed, but I can’t be sure. Officially, no vaccine exists.”
Micah continued, “They’ve lied about everything else. No one in the government or the media is getting sick. You don’t even see them trying to protect themselves. Reporters are out on the streets with no face masks acting like it’s business as usual.”
“You’re probably right,” said Josh. “But I need to be 100 percent certain that I’m not infected before I come into the camp. If it wasn’t a vaccine that they gave me, then I’m at risk. I was in a hospital filled with the Red Virus. We don’t even know how long the virus can live on a surface without a host.”
“The CDC said no more than 48 hours,” Stephanie commented.
“Sure,” quipped Josh. “They’ve been so forthcoming about everything else that we should accept everything they tell us as gospel.”
Her voice came back over the radio. “You’ve got a point.”
“Seven days. It will pass before you know it,” Josh said. “Has everyone finished putting together a bug out bag?”
“Yes,” his wife replied. “But I hope we don’t have to use it. You said you don’t think that the nurse’s assistant will say anythin
g.”
“I don’t, but once again, I’d rather be overly cautious and be wrong than overly complacent.”
Micah added, “Even if they figure out that she’s the one who called Mom, they can’t pinpoint where we are. Mom destroyed that phone. She pulled the battery out right after that woman called.”
Josh agreed, “She’d never volunteer the information. It would put her in hot water if she admitted to aiding in my escape, even if it were unintentional. And you’re right about them not being able to peg our exact location, but if they did manage to pry the information out of her, they could figure out which cell tower was used to connect to Mom’s phone. That would give them a search area within forty miles of the tower. Depending on how bad they want us, they could eventually locate the compound.”
“Even so,” Micah commented. “We would be a needle in a haystack.”
“I’ll bring your dinner out and leave it by the old stump,” Stephanie said. “Do you need anything else?”
“My Bible. I want to make good use of this time alone.”
“Micah has something to tell you.”
“What,” asked Josh.
His son answered, “It’s nothing.”
“Your dad won’t think it’s nothing,” she coaxed. “Go ahead. Tell him.”
“Is it good news or bad news?” Josh inquired. “Maybe I’d rather wait to get it.”
“Oh, it’s good news,” replied Stephanie.
“Tell me, Son.” He released the talk key and waited anxiously for the reply.
“Really, it’s no big deal. I prayed. I asked God to bring you home. That’s all.”
Josh felt a flood of emotion well up inside. “And against incalculable odds, He answered your prayer.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’s because of my prayer.”
“You weren’t the only one praying that prayer,” said Stephanie. “But make no mistake about it, God is responsible for bringing your father home.”
“She’s right.” Josh swallowed hard thinking about how near he’d come to dying. “My situation was about as hopeless as you can get. Believe me when I tell you that I had no way out.”