by Mark Goodwin
“Yes, just something caught in my throat.”
Josh put the back of his hand on her forehead. “You’re a little warm.”
“She has on a jacket, a hoody, and a long sleeve shirt,” said Micah. “Anybody would be warm.”
“It’s sixty degrees up here. Extra clothes are warranted.” Josh was concerned.
Lindsey put her palm on the side of her neck. “No. Your dad is right. I think I have a slight fever.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Micah furrowed his brow.
“Maybe not, but you should start loading up on fluids, just in case,” said Josh.
“Sure.” Lindsey quickly polished off the glass of water from which she’d been drinking.
Stephanie called over the radio. “Are you guys doing okay up there? Can I get you anything?”
“We’re fine. Lindsey is a little warm but nothing to get concerned about yet.” Josh put the radio on the bed.
Lindsey shook her head slowly. “You shouldn’t have said anything over the radio.”
Josh knew the inevitable repercussions, but he didn’t want to be accused of not being transparent. If someone else in the compound were feeling the least bit ill, he’d want to know right away.
Within seconds, Christina called. “Lindsey, go to channel eight, sweetheart.”
The corners of Lindsey’s mouth turned down as she adjusted the frequency. “Hey, Mom.”
“Baby, how are you feeling?”
“I feel fine. I had a little scratch in my throat, but it’s the faintest thing.”
“Do you have a fever?”
“Maybe just a touch.”
Josh felt horrible for the woman who could not be with her daughter at such an emotional time.
Christina said, “Let me know if you want me to come up. I can stay with you—until the quarantine is over. I don’t mind the risk.”
“I’ll be fine, Mom. I love you.”
“Let me know if you start feeling worse.”
“I will.”
Josh took the radio. “She’s in good hands. But she needs someone to watch over the camp. She needs a safe place to ride out the rest of the quarantine.”
“Okay. Thanks for looking after her, Josh.”
“Sure,” he replied.
“I love you, sweetheart. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” With a solemn expression, Lindsey changed the radio back to channel three.
As the day wore on, Lindsey’s condition deteriorated. Her eyes became sensitive to the sunlight and her fever grew hotter. Josh tucked her in the bed and pulled the blinds. He checked on her hourly and encouraged her to drink more water. He felt horrible about the situation, but he could do nothing to change it. Nothing, that is, except pray.
CHAPTER 17
Behold, the day of the Lord cometh, cruel both with wrath and fierce anger, to lay the land desolate: and he shall destroy the sinners thereof out of it. For the stars of heaven and the constellations thereof shall not give their light: the sun shall be darkened in his going forth, and the moon shall not cause her light to shine. And I will punish the world for their evil, and the wicked for their iniquity; and I will cause the arrogancy of the proud to cease, and will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible.
Isaiah 13:9-11
Josh awoke before sunrise on Wednesday morning to the sound of Micah having a long coughing fit. He got out of the bed and walked over to his son’s cot. He knelt down beside him and placed his hand on the back of Micah’s head. “You’re burning up,” he whispered.
Micah pulled the sleeping bag up to his nose. “I’m freezing. Do we have any more blankets?”
“Yes. I’ll get you a couple. You need to take some acetaminophen and drink a big glass of water also. We have to break this fever.” Josh poured a glass of water and retrieved the bottle of Tylenol. He took out four and placed them in Micah’s mouth. He helped him sit up and finish the glass of water. Josh filled the glass again.
“I can’t drink anymore,” said Micah.
“You have to, Son. You need to stay hydrated. You’ll lose a lot of liquid once you start sweating out this fever. You don’t have to chug it. Just sip. But drink it before you go back to sleep. Please, for me.”
Micah drank from the glass while Josh collected the extra blankets.
The door opened and Lindsey walked in with a comforter draped around her shoulders. “Mr. Stone, my pillow and sheets are soaking wet. I’ve been sweating like crazy.”
Josh gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s a good thing. Your body is fighting the fever. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty rough.” She put her hand on her neck. “But I’m not burning like I was before.”
“Okay. I’ll change your sheets. Can you drink some water for me while I do that?”
“Yes,” she said. “Should I take more acetaminophen?”
“If your fever isn’t too high, take two.” Josh took clean sheets from the closet. He carried them to Lindsey’s room and pulled the wet linens from her bed. When the dry sheets were on and the blankets returned, he came back to the room he shared with Micah.
Lindsey sat on the floor by Micah’s cot. She held his hand. “Sorry that you’re sick, too.”
“We’ll get through this.” Micah’s smile was hollow.
Josh hated to break it up, but he needed more sleep. He had a feeling that he was in for a tough time ahead. “Your bed is ready, Lindsey. Your pillow is still wet, so I didn’t put the dry pillowcase on it. If you can sleep without it, it should dry out in a couple of hours.”
“I can wad up some sweaters for a pillow. Thank you, Mr. Stone.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you feel better soon.” He gently ran his hand across her back.
After Lindsey was gone. Josh turned out the light and went back to bed. However, he did not go back to sleep. His mind had been activated, and he could think of nothing else but whether Micah would survive this terrible scourge.
The light of morning slowly crept into the room. Josh listened to Micah’s labored breathing. He didn’t want to move and chance disturbing his son out of his much-needed rest. Josh prayed quietly, asking God to spare Micah, protect his wife, and keep all the residents of the compound in his care.
The sun was higher and its warmth had filled the room by the time Micah awoke. “Dad, my sleeping bag is wet.”
“That’s good, Son.” Josh smiled. “Why don’t you get in my bed, and I’ll take your bag down and wash it?”
Micah’s movements were weak and laggardly as he extracted himself from the sleeping bag.
“Okay.”
Josh poured him a glass of water. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to bring you something to eat?”
Micah took the glass and finished it rather quickly. “No. It makes me sick to even think about food.”
“Alright, then. That’s your body telling you it wants to fast. You should listen to it.” Josh poured him another glass of water, then collected the wet bedding. He picked up the radio, dreading the call he had to place. “Stephanie, switch to channel 7.” He waited for her reply.
“Hey, how’s it going up there?” she asked.
“Micah is sick. He had a fairly high fever. It broke, and he’s much cooler than he was early this morning. I’ve got him drinking as much water as possible. Both he and Lindsey are sweating a lot. I need to come down and start a load of wash. We only have one spare set of sheets, so I’ll have to stay on top of the laundry.”
“I’m coming up,” she said.
“No. We need you to stay well,” Josh argued.
“It’s a little late for that,” she replied.
His heart sank. “Are you sick?”
“I’m not, but Rev is. He’s burning up. I’ve been giving him Tylenol and making him drink water, but it’s not helping. Anyway, I’ve already been exposed. I want to see Micah. I’ll be right there.”
“Okay.” Josh turned the radio back to channel 3.
Stephanie came up the stairs a
nd sat on the foot of the bed with her son. Micah smiled at her, but his eyes showed his misery.
“You’re my strong boy.” His mother took his hand. “You’re gonna beat this, okay?”
He nodded and closed his eyes.
Josh hated to see Stephanie’s pain. “What about Nicole?”
Stephanie gazed upon her infirmed child. “She has a scratchy throat. She’s drinking some hot tea and resting in bed.”
“That’s how Lindsey started out.” Josh sighed. “What about you?”
“I’m fine.” Her eyes showed her pain over seeing Micah in this state.
Josh kissed his wife on the forehead. “I’m going to get this wash started. We’ll probably have to keep one load going after another in order to stay ahead of it.”
She didn’t turn away from her ailing son. “We have a spare set of sheets downstairs. Although, these are full beds. Those are for a queen.”
Josh collected the laundry and headed down the stairs. He placed the sheets in the machine first and put the damp sleeping bag to the side for the next load. Next, he went into the room to check on his sister. “Hey, how are you?”
“I’m afraid, Josh.” She held her teacup close to her chest.
“That’s understandable.” He put one leg up on the bed and let the other dangle off the side.
She looked troubled. “I’m afraid of dying.”
He took her hand. “You’re a fitness junkie. You eat right, exercise—you’re the picture of health. You have better odds than the average Joe.”
“Still, this virus is very deadly.”
“I can’t dispute that.”
“I’m afraid of dying—and meeting God.”
“Okay.”
“Some of the things you’ve said to me. About the way I’m living my life. I think I’ve been wrong.”
“I’ll pray with you if you want, but the bottom line is, you need to tell God. If you want to repent, God is waiting with open arms. The Bible says, ‘For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear Him.’ I watched the stars several nights while I was in quarantine, and that’s pretty high.”
“You read the Bible the whole time you were out there?”
“Yeah. I needed it. Besides what I went through physically, I had a rough time emotionally while I was in DGS custody. The Bible is healing, especially the Psalms.”
She nodded. “So, can we pray?”
Josh nodded and bowed his head. “Lord, Nicole believes in you. She’s been trying to have her cake and eat it too by making her own rules. Now, in the face of this virus, she recognizes that she’s been wrong. I pray that you’ll guide her with your Holy Spirit. Give her the will to repent, and the peace that comes from knowing that her slate has been wiped clean. Then, Lord, I pray that this sickness will pass over her, and that you’ll give her the strength to walk in your ways.”
“Amen.” Tears were coming down her face.
“But you need to tell Him yourself. I can’t do it for you.”
“I will,” she smiled. “Can I borrow a Bible?”
“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Josh left to fetch his Bible from upstairs. Stephanie was quietly comforting Micah, so he didn’t disturb them. Josh brought the Bible to Nicole, then went to check on Rev.
He took a seat on the living room floor, near the couch where his friend was resting. He saw that Rev’s eyes were open. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a sack of rotten cabbage.”
Josh smiled. “Well, you don’t smell that bad. Have you broken your fever? Do you need fresh sheets?”
Rev’s tired eyes closed. “No. I’m still burnin’ up. I’ve been drinkin’ water and taking Tylenol. It ain’t helping.”
“Can I bring you anything?”
“No. I just need to rest.”
“Get some sleep. I’ll be around to check on you in a while.” Josh patted his poorly friend on the shoulder and left him alone.
His radio chirped. “Josh, it’s Christina. How is Lindsey?”
He pressed the talk key. “Her fever was pretty high, but it broke early this morning. We got her some clean sheets, and she’s staying hydrated. Not much else we can do for her. She’s sleeping right now.”
“Thank you. I wish I could be with her, but it helps me to know you’re taking care of her. How is everyone else?”
“Rev is pretty sick. Micah, too. Nicole has a scratchy throat, so we’re keeping an eye on her. How are you?”
“Good. Emilio and I took the night shift. I’m going to get some rest. I’ll be standing guard tonight also. Have Lindsey call when she wakes up. It doesn’t matter if I’m sleeping. I really want to hear her voice.”
“You got it. Rest well.”
No sooner had Josh clipped the radio back to his belt than he received another call. “Josh.”
“Yes, Poochy. What’s up?”
“It’s Melanie. She’s sick. Real sick.”
Josh felt a wave of defeat. The virus had jumped outside of the quarantine. Their best efforts had failed and everyone was at risk. “Okay. Can she walk?”
“Probably, but it would take everything she’s got.”
“Alright then, we’ll figure out a way to move her. I still want to bring her into the quarantine to limit exposure to the others. We can’t have everyone getting sick.” Josh let go of the talk key to think of a way to move Melanie.
Poochy replied, “The cot where she’s sleeping probably weighs less than 20 pounds. I’d guess her to weigh about 120, 125 maybe. Do you think we could use the cot as a stretcher and carry her to the house?”
“Good idea, Poochy. Even if we have to take a couple of breaks, we can get her here. I’ll be there soon.”
“I’m the only person on watch,” replied Poochy.
Josh called back over the radio. “Mackenzie. I need you to keep an eye out for half an hour or so. Call me if you see any signs of trouble.”
“Okay. No problem,” said Mackenzie.
The remainder of Josh’s day was spent caring for the sick and trying to keep up with laundry. By late evening, Nicole was in bad shape. Josh helped her upstairs where she shared a room with Lindsey, sleeping on the cot. Melanie slept on her cot on the opposite side of the living room from the couch where Rev was sleeping.
Josh was able to move back into the master bedroom downstairs with his wife. He moved the television into the bedroom so they could watch the news without disturbing everyone who was sick. That night, he took a shower then plopped down on the bed next to Stephanie. “How are you feeling?”
She looked languished. “The same as you. Exhausted. We’ve been running a hospital ward all day for five people.”
He put his hand on her forehead. She didn’t feel warm. “No scratchy throat? Nothing?”
“No. I’m fine. I’m a mom. We’re not allowed to get sick.”
Josh took no comfort in the flawed notion. “Wearing yourself out puts you at greater risk. I’d feel better if you took up residence outside of the house and let me do all the heavy lifting with the patients.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Josh had just enough energy to lift one corner of his mouth and offer her a reassuring kiss. “Not at all.”
She kissed him back. “I appreciate your concern, but I want to be there for Micah.” She got up from the bed. “I’m going to get a shower before I fall asleep. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I want to prepare a nice lunch for anyone in the quarantine house who feels like eating.”
“We can take a raincheck on the holiday. Let’s conserve our energy for taking care of the sick.”
“We’ve never missed Thanksgiving.”
“We’re not missing it. Just pushing it back so we can all enjoy it together when everyone feels better.”
She seemed reluctant but yielded to his suggestion. “Yeah, okay.”
Josh turned on the television and navigated to WNN.
The screen showed cell phone footage of massive l
ooting at a Walmart in Raleigh, North Carolina. The male reporter narrated the scene. “Videos like this one are inundating social media and the internet today. While Global Union Peacekeepers are doing their best to control major metropolitan areas like Chicago, LA, and New York, mid-sized and smaller cities are left without any additional security forces besides local police.
“Several big box stores, which have managed to remain open through the currency crisis like this Raleigh Walmart, have faced massive labor shortages as larger percentages of their workers are either sick or no longer willing to face infection for the sake of job security.
“The Global Emergency Management Agency relief centers were already operating at capacity prior to the pandemic and are now unable to provide basic goods for a general public that has nowhere left to turn. Desperate people all over the country are taking it upon themselves to get what they can from closed grocers and big-box retailers like this one.
“Retired NYPD police captain, Nathan Cordova, joins us tonight to provide commentary on some of the videos we’ll be looking at from around the country. Captain Cordova, thank you for joining us.”
The retired captain wore a surgical mask. “Thank you for having me.”
“I’m going to roll some more footage from Little Rock, Arkansas for the audience. Can you give us your impression of what is going on?”
The screen showed a cell phone video of a Whole Foods being looted. People ran out of the store with carts and baskets while others streamed inside to pick over the remains.
The guest contributor said, “Since the outbreak has progressed, thousands upon thousands of law enforcement officers have been infected. Like healthcare workers, police face greater exposure to the virus because of their close contact with the general public.
“Unfortunately, I think the crisis has now hit critical mass. Local law enforcement agencies simply don’t have the manpower to do anything other than risk the lives of officers who are still showing up for duty.
“I hate to be the one to say it, especially since this sort of thing can become a type of self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“Meaning what?” asked the reporter.