Apokalypsis Book Two

by Kate Morris

  Tristan worked alongside her cleaning the kitchen.

  “When do you have to leave?” she asked.

  “My lieutenant should be in soon,” he said. “I should leave and at least give him a heads-up on what happened to Royce and Freddie. I don’t know what he’s heard yet.”

  “If you need to leave, you don’t have to help me do this, Tristan,” she said. “You’ve already done so much.”

  He seemed hesitant to speak but finally did. “I-I don’t think you should go to the hospital tonight. You know how bad this is, Avery. It’s not safe.”

  “It’s my little sisters and brother. How can I not see them, Tristan? You’d do the same in my position.”

  He didn’t look like he agreed with her but nodded just the same.

  “Yeah, okay. I’m gonna head out. Thanks for breakfast.”

  “Breakfast? Thanks for staying. That’s a lot tougher job. Hey, take the leftover cookies with you. I’m going to bake some fresh to take to the hospital tonight.”

  She dashed to the pantry and pulled down the box from the shelf. When she turned around, Tristan was filling up the doorway with his sheer size. She handed him the box.

  “Thanks,” he said. “The guys will appreciate them.”

  “It’s the least I could do.”

  His midnight eyes skimmed over her face, then down to her chest where her mint green bodysuit came to a vee. It wasn’t indecent, but he looked quickly away as if he didn’t want to seem lecherous. She hardly dressed in a tantalizing manner, so there was no real allure to looking at her. He’d looked at her the same way at the pool and a few other times, quite a few. He was probably just lonely being on that base in the middle of nowhere without even a girlfriend. He certainly wasn’t interested in her being his girlfriend. He’d made that clear. And her long-sleeved bodysuit was hardly sexy. Paired with khaki slacks, she probably looked like somebody’s mom. Great.

  “Thanks again,” he said, nodded and left their home.

  She looked down, wondering what he had been staring at only to find a tiny sliver of the silver lace of her bra showing. That would explain it. Avery tugged her top up a little.

  It felt quiet without him in their house. She went up the hill to her apartment to check her emails on her laptop and noticed the doorknob looked different. Taped to it were a set of keys dangling down with a note.

  Keep your apartment locked. You don’t want to come home and find anything in it.

  T

  The ominous tone of his message sent a chill across her neck as she unlocked the door and went inside. Avery hadn’t thought of it that way. She was more concerned about someone breaking in when she was asleep at night. She hadn’t considered the fact that she could come home to someone already being in her apartment. Or as Tristan had worded it, “anything in it” which she knew meant one of those insane, murderous people that only barely physically resembled humans. That made her shiver even harder.

  When she was done, Avery locked the door again and gathered up the kids to get caught up on their schoolwork, which she’d have to review and grade later since their mother wasn’t there. She set them up in various spots in the house and left them to their work, even Finn, who was studying a DVD program for learning Spanish. Her father was in the kitchen brewing a kettle of hot water. He didn’t like coffee as well as hot tea.

  “Dad, can we talk now?” she implored.

  They sat at the dinner table discussing the children’s health, which had not improved at all. Faith’s kidneys were weakening, and Cyrus had now fallen into the same coma. It was bleak. Her father seemed drained.

  “Dad, I have some things I need to tell you,” she confessed and cast her eyes down to stare at her own mug of tea he’d made her.

  “What is it, Avery?”

  “Tristan and I have been doing some research of our own about this sickness. I haven’t told you everything I know, or knew, before you left for your trip.”

  “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

  She nodded, feeling guilty. Then she told him everything- from the bar fight, to the things Tristan had witnessed at the refinery, to the murders Saturday night at Renee’s family farm, and the problems yesterday with Spencer. She tied it in with her incident on the road when one was chasing her. Her father, a scientific person by nature and education, sat quietly while she explained it all. Then she went into the information she and Tristan found on the internet coupled with the conversations he’d had with the sheriff’s deputy in town, the man at the hospital in the Emergency Room, and finally the doctor in his own words describing everything being kept from the public, about the sickness, the two different strains, and the violent ones.

  “On my plane ride home, I have to admit that I heard people talking about it. I assumed it was mostly conspiratorial in nature. Now it would seem I should’ve paid more attention.”

  “What about Europe? Did you see anything while you were there?” she asked.

  “There was quite a bit of talk of the flu, a new strain of it. I am sorry to say that I was much occupied with my work and didn’t follow the news stories there. When I heard about the children, I figured it was probably the same flu going around here in the states. I just didn’t know how grave it was, how…deadly.”

  She’d never seen her father like this. It did little to soothe her own worries. He looked exhausted but not just physically.

  “These…violent ones,” he started and paused, “you say Tristan saw a whole floor full of those patients?”

  Avery nodded, and her father did the same. “Was the hospital staff telling you anything about this flu?”

  “No, not anything like you’ve just told me. You may be right about them laying down a false sense of security.” She tilted her head in question. “I questioned the children’s doctors and nurses last night thoroughly, but no one seemed to have any answers. They mostly wanted to tell me to pray for them and get rest. They said they were doing all they could for them. I even suggested moving them to a pediatric hospital but was told they were all full. I don’t know how that could be. There are six very large children’s hospitals in Ohio alone. All six are full? I was assured they were getting the best care that was available.”

  “Were they calling this something other than just the flu?”

  “No, just the flu. No initials. Nothing like RF1 or 2 as you described.”

  She sighed and rubbed her forehead, her arms resting on the table in front of her.

  “What do you think, Dad?”

  He continued to nod slowly, which was her father’s signature thinking pose.

  “Avery, I’m going to go do some of my own research,” he said and rose. “And, darling, don’t tell your mother any of this. I don’t think she should hear it. She has enough to worry about right now. This will only add to her stress.”

  “Dad, you should get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

  “Yes, I think I will later before I go back to the hospital to relieve your mother. First, I’ll be in my office working, though. I need to know everything I can about this virus. I still have some friends at Oxford and Cambridge who might know more than we do right now.”

  “Are you going to try to sleep, too?”

  He kissed the top of her head and nodded. “Wake me at seven?”

  She nodded. Then Avery put on beef short ribs that she first pan seared and seasoned, then finished deglazing the enameled cast iron pot with red wine. A few sprigs of rosemary, some garlic, one onion, and into the oven they went to cook the rest of the day until she served them over mashed potatoes and drizzled the sauce from the pan, which she’d thicken with cream, over them. The kids liked this meal, and it would give her mother and Abraham something nice to come home to.

  Avery checked on the kids to make sure they were getting their schoolwork done and then jogged up the hill to her apartment again to work on her project. If she was going to rotate shifts at the hospital with her parents, then she needed to get as much done as
she could while she was home.

  She designed a nice logo for each tab on the website and added them to the links. Then she worked on color and texture for each page. It was coming along nicely.

  Her Skype notification buzzed on her laptop, and she rolled her chair back from her drafting table to her desk. It was Mark Crane from the hospital. She tried not to roll her eyes with distaste as she hit the ‘accept call’ button. It was a live, face-to-face feed.

  “Hello, Mr. Crane,” she greeted with a false smile.

  “Avery, I’m not feeling well, and I’ll be taking a few days off. I left you an email with my cell phone number on it in case you need me while I’m out.”

  He, indeed, did not look well. His eyes were red and puffy, his nose, too. However, it wasn’t just that he looked pasty and pale and sickly like he also had the flu, it was the black eye under his right one and the bruise on his cheekbone that matched the one on his chin, which had dried blood dribbled from it down onto his neck.

  “Oh, no!” she feigned concern. “What…were you in a scuffle, Mr. Crane?”

  “Some asshole jumped me in the parking lot when I got off work last night. Said I should keep my hands off the ladies. Hey,” he said, considering something for a moment. “Hey, did you say something to anyone about my joking around last week?”

  Joking around. That’s what he was calling sexual harassment. And the only person she confided that to was Renee. Her parents would’ve flipped, called the President and CEO and had Crane fired on the spot.

  “No, of course not. Who did it?”

  “Some big guy. Dark hair. Tattoos. Hardass looking psychopath with crazy blue eyes,” he coughed as Avery tried hard to conceal her shock. She knew exactly who’d done this to her work associate. When his coughing spell ceased, he said, “Anyway, I gotta go. I need to drive home now.”

  He got up and stumbled away without a formal closing of their meeting, a goodbye, nothing. His Skype was still running. He seemed delirious. Avery wondered if Tristan had punched him so hard he broke the man’s brain. Some tiny part of her was glad the man got what he deserved. The moral conscience portion of her brain rejected taking the law into their own hands. Of course, it wasn’t something new for Tristan, especially lately. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was a trouble magnet. And all he got out of it was running around cleaning up her messes or coming to her rescue.

  She typed out a text to Tristan, then erased it. What was she going to say? Reprimand or thank him? She decided to let it go. Mark Crane wasn’t worth the effort. If it meant he’d never lay his hands on a woman who didn’t want him to, then Tristan had done the unsuspecting female public a service. She was starting to think of him like a white knight, which was a strange way to think of a big, violent man like him with all his tattoos and dark, brooding looks. But he was.

  She let her father sleep an extra half hour, mostly because she lost track of time going over the children’s schoolwork. Poor Abraham. He was going to get behind if he didn’t come home soon. His curriculum was extremely challenging.

  “Should I set the table, Ave?” Kaia called into the living room from the kitchen.

  “Sure, but don’t set a place for Dad or me. Let’s just pack Dad a box to-go when he’s ready. Then he can eat at the hospital. But I’m not hungry. Abraham should be home tonight and will be with you guys and Mom. Maybe wait an hour and eat with them?”

  “Okay, what about tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be home tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

  She went up to wake her father and didn’t find him in his bed, so Avery crossed the room and went into his office.

  “Dad!” she screamed and rushed to her father’s body lying face down on the area rug. Avery knelt beside him and rolled him onto his back. “Dad! What happened?”

  He didn’t answer, only moaned. His skin was hot under her fingertips when she took his pulse in his neck. His pulse was racing. When he opened his eyes, they were bloodshot. He was sick.

  “Dad, come on,” she said and knelt on the floor near his head, which she propped on her legs. “We need to get you to the hospital. Ephraim! Kaia!” she called to her brother and sister.

  They came bounding up the stairs at the urgency in her voice, and both gasped when they saw their beloved father on the floor.

  “He’s not responsive. You have to help me get him to the car,” she said.

  “I’m calling 9-1-1,” Kaia announced and dialed from her cell phone.

  Avery waited patiently while supporting her father as Kaia talked to the dispatcher.

  “What? Six hours? Our father’s on the floor,” Kaia shouted at the person on the other end of the line. “No! Seriously, he needs help now. What the hell’s wrong with you, lady?”

  Kaia hung up a moment later.

  “How long has he been like this?” Ephraim asked.

  Avery shook her head. “I don’t know. He came up here about nine o’clock this morning after we talked. He said to wake him at seven. He said he wanted to work in here first. Then he was going straight to bed.”

  “Then he’s been in here like this since maybe ten or eleven?” Ephraim deduced.

  She nodded. “Maybe. I should’ve checked on him. I just wanted to keep the house quiet so he could get some rest before we left.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ave,” Kaia consoled and squatted to help her.

  “We’ve gotta get him to the hospital,” she said. “We can’t wait six hours!”

  “Let’s just get him onto the sofa here,” Ephraim suggested and picked up their father’s feet.

  “Okay,” the girls agreed in unison. Together they heaved and were able to lift their tall father onto the sofa. Avery propped his head with a pillow.

  “We’re never going to get him to the car,” Kaia said.

  “We need Abraham,” Ephraim suggested.

  He was right. Her brothers were both big guys, Abraham at six-one already and Ephraim an even six feet so far. But Abraham was wider and worked out a lot, ran almost every day, and lifted weights. He was really into physical fitness for only being sixteen. Ephraim was lanky but still strong.

  “Listen,” her little brother, only fourteen, said, taking charge of the situation, “We could use a blanket like a gurney and carry him downstairs.”

  “Right,” Avery agreed and dialed her brother’s number. She explained the situation. Abraham said he was literally walking out of the hospital right that second and would be there in forty-five minutes. That was better than six hours. Avery figured six hours was underestimating it, too. She didn’t hear him tell their mother, though.

  “Get me a cool washcloth, Kaia,” she requested. “He’s burning up. And some Tylenol. Let’s see if we can get him to take some fever reducer and water. Make sure you put ice in the water. And bring a straw.”

  Kaia ran out of the room. Ephraim went downstairs to Finn and to turn off the stove where Avery was preparing to make a reduction sauce out of the beef juices. Instead of finishing their meal and packing some for her parents, she pulled a plaid wool blanket over her father.

  Her little sister returned in a flash, rattling off information at lightning speed.

  “Do you think it’s the same thing the kids have, Ave? Do you? If not, what’s wrong with Dad?”

  “I don’t know, Kaia,” she lied as she placed the cool rag on his forehead. Then she realized it was time to let her sister in on the entire situation. She was seventeen. There was no time to hide things from her anymore. She needed the truth. So, Avery patiently explained everything from the two viruses, the problems she and Tristan had encountered with it, the violent ones, and more. Kaia was stunned.

  “Does Dad have the violent kind?”

  Avery shook her head, “No, I don’t think so. Hey, don’t worry. I’m gonna drive him to the hospital. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  They sat and talked while trying to treat their father as best as they could. He wouldn’t wake enough for the Tylenol. And close to an hour later,
Abraham pulled down the drive. Her little brother looked beat, like he was at the end of his rope. He was too young to deal with so much.

  Using Ephraim’s idea, the boys managed to carry their father out to her Lexus SUV. They laid him down in the back seat, and Kaia rushed over to prop his head with a pillow.

  “Okay, ready,” Abraham said and made like he was going to drive.

  “No way,” Avery stated firmly. “I’m going alone. I don’t need help from here on out. The E.R. staff will help me when I get there.”

  “But…”

  “I need you here, Abraham,” she said. “Kaia will fill you in on what’s been happening. I can’t leave the kids without knowing you’ll be here to help keep them safe.”

  “Okay,” he resolved with a conflicted expression. “Be careful, Avery.”

  She hugged him tight, letting a little bit of his strength wash into her body. Kaia brought out her overnight bag she’d packed earlier with fresh clothes, toiletries, and her jacket. It was actually Tristan’s leather jacket. Plus, her little sister put the bag of to-go dinner containers in the hatch.

  She hugged each of her siblings, even picking up Finnegan and telling him everything would be okay. Avery prayed she was telling them the truth.

  “I love you guys,” she said and brought her hand to her lips, blowing them all a kiss. They returned it, and Abraham took Finn from her.

  The sun had set, and the landscape lighting was beginning to glow in its automatic solar cycle. Avery got in and shut her door. Then she rolled down the window. “Make sure you shut the gate. I don’t know if they can climb, but we have to assume.”

  Abraham shot her a confused look, but she didn’t have time to explain. Kaia would. She was a smart girl. Instead, Avery pulled up the lane and left.

  Once she was on the main road, she got the Lexus up to fifty-five. She had a long drive to go, most of which was on back country roads or county roads. There were two tiny burgs she’d go through to get to Canton, but with good weather, she could get there in forty-five minutes if she kept her speed up to about fifty-five or sixty.