by Maira Dawn
The air in the building felt stagnant with a strong scent of sweaty bodies and dirty diapers. Though the hospital ran on emergency power, the air conditioner was not a priority and only turned on a few times a day. Skye looked around the room. Given the number of people in the lobby, it could be worse.
The open waiting area they entered was floor to ceiling men, women and children, young and old. Bunk beds lined the walls. Floor space looked as if it had been devoured long ago. Families and individuals sat on the tattered blankets and sleeping bags claiming their spots as they waited out the day. As Skye made her careful way through the room, she found it hard to find an empty place to put her foot down.
Noise came from every direction, and Skye stayed close to the doctor so she could hear her speak. Some parents tried to conduct some sort of schooling with their children while others rocked crying babies. Still others grouped together and visited. At least three different types of music played loud enough for the whole room to sing along if they chose to do so.
Skye gaped at the scene. Are things this bad? How did I miss that things are this bad? Although Colton had been hit hard by the AgFlu, it seemed it was also sheltered from the full effects of the turmoil. She realized she probably had Tom and his police force to thank for that.
"I didn't know," Skye choked out.
"Well, in your defense, the reporters stopped talking about us long ago. They are too busy spreading the more exciting news about fires and protests."
As they crossed the room, Anna Lynn told Skye about some of the patients. "George," Anna Lynn said, pointing out a healthy-looking older teen. Large squares of gauze covered his lower arms and a part of his face. "Pulled a bunch of glass out of him after he and a group of his friends smashed up the city a bit. George doesn't do that anymore, do you, George?"
"No, ma'am." George looked like he regretted the fact he wouldn't be smashing anymore.
"Amy Lee Smith. Mid-pregnancy." Dark hair covered part of Amy Lee's face as she smiled, dipped her head and rubbed her growing belly. "She needed a little medical care. Stayed, seeing as how things are now.”
She nodded to the next patient. "Old lady McGlothlin. Ran out of food. Too dangerous to be home alone." Old lady McGlothlin's red face stood out against her white hair and mask. Either she had a fever, or her blood pressure was high. Anna Lynn noticed it too and asked a nearby nurse to take the petite woman into one of the exam rooms.
"People have sorta migrated here. All the rooms, offices and even closets hold people now. The lobby was the only room we had left. Now it's gone. Not sure what we will do next," Anna Lynn said shaking her head.
Skye tried not to let her concerns show over what had become an oasis in this city. How anyone is getting any good sleep is beyond me. Tired, cranky crowds with nothing to do equal trouble. There's no place to walk around or get any exercise unless they go outside, and I just saw how that can go!
This group is only a small part of this. Ten floors of this is a real concern. How are they getting enough food? Are medical supplies running out? If someone becomes Sick, how do they get them out before they infect the whole floor?
Skye adjusted her mask tighter to her face. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"
Anna Lynn walked down the hall to what used to be a closet. Inside was a cot and a few of the woman's belongings. "This is my 'home, sweet, home' right now. That way I'm close if I am needed."
Skye's opinion of the doctor, which was already high after seeing her situation, went higher. The woman certainly could have commandeered a larger space if she'd wanted but she hadn't. That was admirable.
"I can tell you care about these people. You have done so much to help them," Skye said, "but this set-up..." She trailed off hating to criticize an impossible condition.
Anna Lynn grimaced. "I know, it's band-aids over a gaping wound. But it's all we got. I've tried to get help from Emergency Management, from anyone to get something better. But everything is so chaotic. We get food, and as far as places to go, they tell me this is one of the best."
Anna Lynn lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose before looking back at Skye. "It's not so bad, and hopefully, temporary. Everyone pitches in. We actually need more for people to do."
Skye nodded. "I can see how that would be the case, keeping them busy would help." Hoping Anna Lynn had answers for her, Skye changed the subject. "I want to ask... Well, I have a cousin that's a cop, and he keeps giving me all the warnings. But he doesn't hear everything from a solid medical standpoint. Just rumors. What do you know?"
Anna Lynn nodded her head, her gaze on the floor. "I have a friend at the Disease Control that's telling me what's going on, so here are the things I know. This disease has entered other countries."
Skye brought her hand to her stomach. She had hoped they, whoever they were, had contained the illness to the United States. That would've been bad enough. "Oh, no."
Anna Lynn nodded. "There's more. I know the AgFlu is hitting the U.S. harder than any other disease in its history. During the 1918 flu epidemic, almost everyone lost one or two family members. This time a family will be fortunate if that is what they have left. Disease Control is estimating that over 70 percent will get the AgFlu. There's little hope if you contract it."
Skye asked the question everyone wondered. "Did she tell you how it started?"
"I know that the flu mixed with the rabies virus, though not how. My friend has a theory that someone invented it for germ warfare but if it was the U.S. government or some terrorist act, it’s anyone’s guess at this point. If this doesn't stop soon, we may never find out."
Anna Lynn scrubbed her hand over her forehead. "I do know the world will never be the same and whether that is a good thing or a bad thing—Well, that everyone can decide that for themselves. I know if I were you, I would get out of this hospital and hole up somewhere safe as long as you can. Let the worst go through. Both the flu and the people. I know most are good. But there are others out there, like those on the street, that are trouble."
"And the immune?" Skye asked with hope in her voice.
"It stands to reason there will be some. Disease Control is banking on it. I've heard of a few getting cold-like symptoms that go away. Make a note of that, the symptoms must completely go away, or the AgFlu still infects them. A couple here claimed to get through it, but I wasn't with them at the time. Still, a couple out of countless isn't much."
Skye looked at the floor and clasped her hands together until her knuckles turned white. This was what she had feared all along. Her words came slow. "You watch these shows and read these books, and you think, 'Oh if that were me I would do this' as if it would be so easy. Or you imagine ways you could survive. But guess what? What really happens is you're just so—just so—disbelieving of the whole thing. You don't know what to do. I don't know what to do."
Skye bent her head and brought her trembling hands up to her forehead as the full impact of what this disease meant for her and for the world hit her.
Anna Lynn eyed her with sympathy. "You will know. When you need to, you will." When Skye looked up at her and gave her head the tiniest shake, the doctor repeated the words—slow and forceful. "You will know."
The two women looked at each other, countless thoughts and worries tumbled through their minds and reflected in their eyes. Each needed support from the other, but neither could verbalize what they sought. Sorrow was clear on their faces, both for what had already happened and what they understood was yet to come. Taking a deep breath, Skye gave Anna Lynn a slight nod which she returned.
Anna Lynn turned back to her brisk manner. "Look for these symptoms: Lips or ears turning blue, blackened feet, coughing up blood or foaming at the mouth, disorientation, stiffening of the limbs, convulsing, fever. Some go into a coma, some don't. Some die quick, and some take weeks, months even."
Skye made a mental note of everything Anna Lynn said.
Anna Lynn continued to rattle on, seeming eager for the visit to end
. "Remember this: It is airborne, and the most contagious, when people have a fever so stay away from anyone with a high temperature. After the fever goes, it is no longer airborne, but still infectious through bodily fluids. A patient can catch the AgFlu, develop a fever, but few other symptoms for months so it may seem like they are okay. But if you see a lingering cold, or difficulty breathing, be concerned about that. Some have hidden what they are for a while."
Skye nodded. She supposed there were plenty of reasons someone would cover up having the disease.
"And watch out for the Infected that want to take you down with them." She sighed and spread out her hands. "That is what I know, all I know." Anna Lynn paused then clapped her hands on her legs before standing. "Now let's get you to your car so you can get on home."
As they walked back down the crowded hallway, Anna Lynn asked Skye why she had been out today. Skye told the woman about her two patients then added her need for a grocery store. Anna Lynn came to an abrupt stop, turned around and yelled out, "Tommy!" Tommy's head popped out from behind a door. "Get a few boxes of supplies for this lady. Put 'em in my trunk."
"No, you’ve done enough for me already! I’ll be fine."
"It's fine. We have plenty right now. Some organizations drop off food regular. They're aware we have a crowd of people in here, and there's no shortage of food right now." She made a face. "Fewer people eating it now."
Skye sighed. "I guess that's true. It'll save me having to stop. I appreciate that."
On their way back to Skye's car, Anna Lynn continued to advise her. "Once everything settles down, start planting. Eventually, all this canned food will run out. Gonna have to go old school now. You said you had a cousin that was a cop? Stick with him. He'll understand what needs doing if things get too bad. I'm hoping, really hoping it doesn't, but it is hard to tell. People being, you know, people."
Skye listened with care, nodding from time to time. Anna Lynn had saved her life and given her enough food for a while if she was careful. She could say anything she wanted to say, and Skye would take notice.
As they neared Skye's car, they first went around the block to make sure it was safe, then stopped at the back of Skye's vehicle and transferred the food.
Skye turned to the doctor. "I can never thank you enough. I will stay if you need help. If you need anything..."
"No, like I said, we have all the support we need. We're okay. You go and get yourself somewhere secure and stay there."
Skye moved forward to hug Anna Lynn in appreciation for everything she had done, but Anna Lynn moved back.
"Sorry, I am just not the hugging type." She shrugged and gave a little laugh.
"No problem. That's fine. It's probably safer, anyway. You stay safe too. I pray we both make it through this and meet again when things are better."
"That would be nice, real nice."
Anna Lynn’s gaze followed Skye as she got into her car and drove off. She hoped she'd given Skye the advice she needed to survive this thing. A small cough escaped her.
Slowly, Anna Lynn reached up and tugged down the car's visor and opened the mirror. She loosened the ties of her mask and drew it off.
Her eyes widened as she stared at her reflection. Tears flooded and ran down her face, over her blue lips.
She squeezed her eyelids shut, then reopened them, hoping the scene in the mirror would change. Fear seized her when it had not.
Anna Lynn laid her head on the steering wheel and sobbed. Then with an aching heart, she put the car in drive and turned toward the high school.
Chapter Fourteen
A Monster
Things had still been going good, Jesse thought. For the longest while I can ever remember. Me and his dad aren’t just getting by, we’re gettin along. Almost like a real dad and son.
But something happened—like it always did. The AgFlu had ruined everything. Too many people got Sick at his father's company, so the company had, temporarily they said, shut down.
Guess no one needs concrete poured when they're turnin blue and foamin at the mouth.
Jesse flinched as a bottle smashed against cheap wallboard. Glass splintered into a hundred shards that tinged onto the floor below.
He's back.
Jesse lay huddled in his single, metal-framed bed trying to ignore the sounds coming from the next room. His chin trembled and refused to stop, no matter how strong his orders. Little ragged breaths huffed between his pale lips as he curled his small body into a tight ball.
Jesse pulled his knees closer to his chest and covered himself from top to bottom with his thin, frayed blanket. He wished with all his heart that his father would fall over and lay senseless until morning—not become the monster Jesse knew he could be.
"Pass out. Pass out," Jesse quietly chanted to himself.
The boy's mind screamed for him to run, but it was too late. The window had warped shut long ago. There was only one way out of this room, straight past him.
The squeak of the chair springs as his father rose caused Jesse to jerk. His slight body trembled despite his best efforts to control it. The sound of slow, unsteady footsteps scraping across the floor reached him. Jesse's body tightened. Bunching the blanket in his clenched fists, he yearned for Frankie to forget he had a son.
Turn left. Turn left.
The footfalls didn't turn left. They turned right. They came for him.
Jesse's bedroom door flew open. It smacked against the wall behind it. The boy peeked out from his false sanctuary. Tears streamed from his eyes as if the blows had already begun. He pressed his clutched fists to the side of his face.
Frankie's dark form filled the doorway. He was still for a moment, knowing something was wrong, but he was well past any reason.
Jesse sensed the next movement before the noise reached his ears. He heard the rattle of the man's belt buckle. The boy let out a small, almost soundless moan.
Jesse squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could. His jaw tightened at the whoosh of the leather as it snaked its way across the belt loops.
The boy was well-acquainted with the sound. He knew what it meant. He was in for a beating. Someone had to pay for the troubles in this house.
Tonight, that someone was him.
Chapter Fifteen
All Done
Two days after her trip to the city, Skye woke in the night to a stuffy nose. Her pulse instantly raced as she recalled a cold was how the AgFlu started. Her mind imagined the worst scenarios. But, once she cleared her nose, she found she inhaled with little problem. After that, she scolded herself both for losing control and her bleak thoughts.
There are plenty of reason I could be stuffy. After looking around, she saw one of her bedroom windows open. The raised frame looked dark against the light of the full moon. There, see! Fall allergy season was always an issue. Skye stumbled out of bed and took an allergy pill and settled back down for the rest of the night. One last thought drifted through her mind. But something is wrong. I know it.
When she woke in the morning and drew in a deep breath, she could hear crackle of phlegm. Her throat burned. This time it wasn't so easy to tamp down the jittery panic that filled her.
Skye covered her face with her hands. Then gathering courage, she checked her lips, fingertips, and toes for blue discoloration. There were none. She blew out a long sigh and closed her eyes.
Skye debated doing a thousand things, but in the end, realized there was nothing she could do.
As the day wore on her body ached, and she did little else but lay on the couch dozing in and out of sleep. When she put her hand to her forehead, the vast contrast between her cold hand and her blazing face frightened her.
When she tried to pull in a few slow, deep breaths only to cough uncontrollably, she sobbed.
Is this it then? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if it would be better if it ended now. What kind of world will be left when this is all done, anyway? Nothing I will recognize, maybe nothing worth surviving.
Skye trembled and broke down as the fear she'd been trying to ignore came back full force. There was no way to get better. She could only lay exhausted and empty with a single thought swirling through her mind on a continuous loop. I'm going to die.
Even quarantine and the small comforts the medical community would have given her were out of the question now. The military had ordered Doctor Paul Kinder to close up his office and head for Fenton. And the city was too far away for her to drive in her worsening condition.
Still, she did what she could. Skye checked her temperature throughout the day, watching as it went up and down. When it was high, she would climb into a bath of tepid water. But after doing that several times, it no longer kept her fever down.
How do you distract yourself from your impending death?
Numb, she stared at the ceiling. Skye took one difficult, rattling breath after another. She put her hand on her bracelets and gripped them as one would grasp the hand of a loved one.
Once her fever rose to 103 degrees. She stopped taking it. She didn't want to know.
Sometimes sobs racked her body. Sometimes she bowed her head in fervent prayer, lips racing with silent pleas to help her through this. Sometimes she did both.
Once on legs that felt as though they would melt under her, she returned from the kitchen carrying a glass of water. After setting it on the coffee table, she saw three others sitting there. Skye fell onto the couch and stared at them. Three other glasses of water she was unable to remember putting there. Every new symptom sent a chill down her spine. A small wail escaped her. Now I’m disoriented, I'm losing it.
Skye got up and locked all the doors and windows, then barricaded them to the best of her ability. She didn't want to infect anyone, nor did she wish to become one of those lost, wandering people.
That night the hallucinations started.
Her body thrashed as her dream-filled mind swirled with images of shadowy people. They rushed toward her as she tried without success to get away. Puzzled, she looked down at the source of the problem, her feet.