by Kate Morris
He turned on one of the computer screens, wiped everything down with a couple of packets of sanitizer wipes that were now being offered by the tonnage all around the hospital in boxes right next to the boxes and containers of face masks and latex gloves. When he had the computer and desk wiped down and clean, the same one he and Wren had just used the night before, he removed his mask and gloves. As he ate, he watched the news. It was a twenty-four-hour program that ran everything on a loop. He listened as they discussed politics and the weather, which was supposedly getting bad up in Michigan. He hoped that didn’t head this way. Normally, he liked snow, but right now, he felt like there was enough to deal with.
When he was finished with his food and the tea, he dumped it all in the trashcan at the end of the aisle and returned to the computer. Then he got down to work. He used the school credit card again and logged into the pay site where the guy with the orange hair was the host. Video after video was uploaded giving updates of the sickness. They were from all around the world now and had subtitles to go with them. He clicked on one from South Africa. By the time it was over, he sort of wished he hadn’t watched it.
There were sick children and adults filmed covertly by an English-speaking nurse or doctor with a British accent. Most of the patients were chained or tied to their beds. It reminded him of Alex; only these people weren’t in a coma like his brother. They were wide awake and were acting more like the crazy ones similar to that guy at the festival and the woman in the pharmacy and whatever had jumped on the trunk of his car last night. He wondered if the people trying to break into his house last night were like this or if they were just low-life robbers trying to take advantage of the burdened police departments. The news was getting out. People would start doing horrible things like looting soon if the officials in charge didn’t get it all under control. He wasn’t sure what they were waiting for. If the United States became anything like the video, they could be in serious trouble. The healthcare worker filming went outside and shot some footage. It was even worse. The police were everywhere. Smoke in the distance indicated a massive fire somewhere, maybe a building or something big. The sick were sitting alongside the road on the sidewalks being comforted by people who were probably their families. Those were the ones who looked more like Alex. She said something quietly about ‘hauling away’ and went over to talk in another language to a mean-looking dude in a military uniform. She must’ve had her camera in her pocket like the person at that doctors’ meeting he and Wren had watched. The guy in the military uniform began yelling at her, and she hurried away. Then she crept to another area and held the camera in her hand and quickly filmed the back of what looked like some sort of enclosed armored vehicle. There were some of the violent ones corralled into it. They were packed in tight like cattle going to slaughter. Their mouths were bound and gagged and their hands and feet tied. They were still crazed, though. Elijah could see it in their bloodshot eyes and the way they were slamming their own heads into the walls of the truck. Someone off-camera yelled, and her video went dark. He found himself speculating if she was caught and if so, was she harmed or put in jail for filming.
Another video was taken in China, in some big city that he couldn’t pronounce. He watched with wide eyes as the person stood on their balcony and filmed one violent act after the other in the streets about four floors below. It wasn’t just the usual crime that took place in a large city like that. It looked like the crazy, careless crime of people who were too insane to realize or care if they’d get caught. The police mowed down with automatic weapons fire the ones they blocked in. With Communism, due process wasn’t much of a requirement, but this was more like watching something a country would be charged with as a war crime, a genocide of their own people, or at the very least a crime against humanity.
Next, he clicked on an uplink from a city in Russia with no subtitles. He wasn’t sure how this one even got leaked. The Russians weren’t exactly our friends. Of course, neither was China, not anymore. He wondered if what he’d heard was true, that the virus was from Russia. Probably.
Elijah scooted closer to the screen and peered around to make sure it was just still himself and the people sleeping on the sofas. Then he tapped the play icon. His earbuds were already plugged into the computer, but he lowered the volume and removed one bud from his ear so that he could still hear if someone came in. Again, the video must’ve been taken without permission. The person was whispering in Russian. It was a man, and he sounded scared. This time, it was night, and he was creeping around by the general feel of his hushed tones and stooped over position. He went down an alley that ended at chain-link fencing. The man whispered something, and the video got shaky as he moved his phone. Then he must’ve pressed the zoom button because the screen went out of focus before clearing up again. He was shooting footage in the distance of a gigantic fire probably three stories tall. There were military vehicles around, trucks, a tank, a bunch of heavy equipment like bulldozers and backhoes. Men who looked like they were military were walking around the bonfire in their uniforms and carrying guns. Elijah wondered if they weren’t supposed to be partying or something and that’s why the guy filmed this. Only, as he focused in on one particular section, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when the amateur videographer zoomed in again. The men in uniforms were throwing dead bodies onto the fire. Others were using flame-throwers to keep it going at a high temperature.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
Someone called out, and the man shooting the film whipped around. A second later, gunshots could be heard. The camera angle hit the ground, and the feed went dead. He assumed the man with the camera also was, too.
Elijah wiped his sweating palms on his jeans.
He watched six more videos before logging off. He didn’t want anyone rushing him from behind and clubbing him over the head and taking him off to some CIA interrogation room or something. It was probably far-fetched, but someone was definitely monitoring what was being seen, said, and heard in America right now. They were also being fed only the information the government wanted them to know, too. He wondered what happened to the Constitution. Were they one step behind Russia with censorship? Or worse, burning infected bodies in mass graves?
Elijah paused and went to buy a Gatorade and a diet soda out of the vending machine in the family lounge. He also purchased two candy bars for sugar energy and two packs of peanuts for the protein because he was getting tired but was far from having all the answers he sought today. He wasn’t an all-night video gamer. He worked out hard and had to maintain his calorie intake to balance his expenditure of calories out. He didn’t break rules and stay out late partying like a lot of his friends, and his body was reminding him of that.
He looked around and went back onto the internet. Something felt wrong about what he was about to do next, but he made the decision and did it anyway.
A few hours later, he had some answers plus a whole lot more questions and went back up to sit with Alex. After five, he left the hospital. Nurse Nancy came on shift at five and promised to call if his brother’s condition changed. She said not to worry if he didn’t hear from her. Most of the coma patients who got better didn’t wake up for about a week, sometimes two. He hoped Alex wasn’t in a coma for a week. He wanted him back home tonight.
After he left the hospital, Elijah went to his house and boarded up that window the person broke last night in the living room. There was a plethora of scrap wood in the garage from so many of his dad’s projects, so he used the circular saw and cut a piece to fit. Then, because of what happened last night, he did the same to the other windows on the first floor that didn’t have the decorative wrought iron scrollwork on the outside. It took a long time, but he didn’t have anywhere else to be.
At eight-thirty, he looked again at his phone and swiped away more of her unread messages. He didn’t want to talk to Wren right now. As a matter of fact, he called Jeremy and had his friend follow him to her trailer where he dropped off he
r car. Then they left before she could’ve come out and seen them.
He and Jeremy went to his house to play video games, but Elijah kept thinking about her and his brother, and he ended up leaving after an hour. He picked up take-out at a Chinese restaurant and went home. He watched the ten o’clock news as he ate his garlic chicken and rice. The reporting on the virus was vague and was definitely being downplayed, but at least they were finally warning people to take preventative measures.
Elijah worked on his homework and then drove back to the hospital around eleven. Nurse Nancy let him back in with Alex, and he remained by his brother’s side until around two a.m. before he left again.
He sat in the parking lot for a while looking at the missed texts from Wren. They started around eleven o’clock this morning.
Where’d you go?
Elijah, it’s Wren. Where are you?
I hitched a ride with my neighbor to go to your house, but you weren’t there, either. Getting worried. Is this because of your brother? Is he okay? I’m worried about him. Also, you have my car keys.
The next series came after one o’clock.
Took the bus from your neighborhood and went to the hospital to check on Alex. I got caught in his room, and they threw me out. He seemed the same. I’m taking the bus back to your neighborhood. If you are home, wait for me there. I found out some stuff.
Apparently, they’d just missed each other all day. He was starting to feel guilty. Then again, he’d also found out some stuff that didn’t make him feel guilty but pissed.
You aren’t here. I’m going to run over to the school and check there. The last bus leaves out of town at six, so I need to make it back to the stop.
She didn’t text again for a few hours. It was time-stamped five-thirty.
I’m freaking out. My car is gone from your house. Yours is, too. I made the bus, but it only goes about halfway to my neighborhood. I’m going to have to walk home the rest of the way in the dark. It’s getting dark already. Please text me and let me know you’re okay.
Shit! He hadn’t meant for that to happen. His house was probably seven miles from her neighborhood. That meant she would’ve had to hoof it about two or three miles home in the dark. He felt like the world’s biggest ass. The next series of texts came in around eight o’clock and weren’t quite the same tenor.
Just got home. Did you bring my car back? I assume you did since you had the keys- the same ones that were in your house, genius, which I couldn’t get into when I was there looking for you. Guess you’re ignoring my texts. Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again. BTW I saw one of them on the walk home and had to hide in some person’s shed until it was safe. Thanks. FOF.
He wasn’t a texting genius, but he knew that FOF stood for fuck off forever. His decision to put her in a time-out while he got his thoughts together didn’t seem like such a brilliant idea now. It was late, so he decided to deal with Wren tomorrow.
Elijah crashed and woke too late to get to church on time. Instead, he showered, dressed, went to the hospital again to see his brother and was rejected entry. He figured he’d wait to sneak in later. Maybe Nurse Nancy would be on duty.
He sanitized, threw out his gloves and paper mask in the trashcan in the parking lot, and went for lunch. Jeremy texted and said that Mrs. Kinsey, their English teacher was sick. He’d heard about it from his mother. He also told him that the school secretary, one of the guidance counselors, and the physical therapist were, too. He said his girlfriend- the flavor of the week- was worried they’d cancel homecoming Saturday after the game. Other than the state championships, homecoming weekend was the only time they had a Saturday game. Jeremy said his parents were in the rumor mill and heard they might cancel school for a few days to have it professionally sanitized.
Elijah drove from the burger joint to the grocery store. He had an overwhelming feeling that things were getting worse, not better, despite what the twenty-four-hour news channels had tried to predict last night. He wondered if they were being told what to say. It certainly didn’t seem like those CDC doctors felt the same way. Some of those doctors were acting like this would kill tens of millions. Either way, he was stocking up on some groceries just in case. For a while, it probably wasn’t a good idea to be eating food other people had prepared, either.
He filled his cart at the supermarket with cases of canned veggies, fruits, and canned meat. Tuna was a good source of protein, even if he didn’t care all that much for it. Then he grabbed the biggest bags of dried rice and sacks of beans he could find. Even though his nutritionist who worked for the football team wasn’t fond of him eating too many carbs or drinking sugary, empty-calorie sodas, he bought two cases anyway.
“Looks like you’re doing some stock-up cooking,” the nice, older checkout lady remarked.
He smiled, “Yeah, something like that.”
“Hey, aren’t you Elijah Brannon?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with another smile.
“All ready for next weekend? It’s against McKinley.”
Everyone knew that was their biggest rival. It didn’t matter to Elijah. All he wanted to do was not screw up his stats or winning streak. It didn’t factor in that they were the biggest rival. He just needed another solid win.
He paid with the school’s credit card again. Elijah thanked the lady and left to load his car down with bulk grocery items and fresh meat. When he got home, he unloaded the meat into the freezer in the pantry and stacked and organized the canned goods and dried staples. Then he felt stupid. It seemed ridiculous to think this way. He felt like one of those weirdo prepper types who dug a bunker in their backyard and installed razor wire fencing around their property. Then he remembered that people tried to break into his house and felt slightly better about his decision to blow nearly four hundred dollars on food items.
Elijah pounded out some push-ups and chin-ups on the bar above the door to his bedroom and took a three-mile run through the neighborhood. Exercise was always a good distraction, a good one, not a bad one like thinking about and dwelling on Wren Foster, the annoying liar of a new girl.
As he ran, he noticed his home wasn’t the only one with boarded-up windows. Their whole neighborhood must’ve been canvassed and attacked the other night.
It was almost time to eat dinner and head back to the hospital. Elijah wanted to squeeze in another run later but wasn’t sure if he should do it at night outside. Maybe he’d find a treadmill somewhere in the hospital. As he jogged back to the house, the sun began to set. The fine hairs on the back of his neck pricked as if his intuition was waking. He hoped it wasn’t foretelling of something bad to come.
Chapter Eighteen
“We’ll take the necessary precautions, and if things start getting hot, we’ll get out of here,” Uncle Jamie said at breakfast before school.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she said. “We could go now if you want. Doesn’t matter to me.”
He paused in the middle of sipping his coffee. “Really? I thought you were just complaining about moving and wanted to stay here till Christmas holiday.”
“Break. Americans don’t say they’re taking a holiday. They say vacation. And break if it’s a delay in their work or school schedules,” she corrected, getting a smirk. “And no. I don’t care. It’s fine if you wanna’ go now.”
“We’ll see,” he said and finished his eggs. “I discussed it with them, and they said they’d let us know if they hear anything else on this virus.”
She bit her thumbnail, wondering if she should tell him what she knew. That would lead to questions about using the internet and where she’d gone to use it and who’d been with her at the time. Too many questions. Even more lies to cover them. She could barely look him in the eye as it was. He didn’t deserve that, not after all the sacrifices he’d made for her.
“Okay. Just keep me in the know,” she said and gave him the hang-ten symbol as she rose to set her plate in the sink.
“Be careful, Wren,” he warne
d and joined her there. “They think that guy who went berserk the other day on the job site had this sickness. That was crazy. He was hitting people with a cement hammer. The one guy’s still in the hospital that got beat.”
“Hm, yeah,” she remarked, knowing that Alex was also still in the ICU but not from being hit with a hammer. He’d probably find out at work today when he went. No sense explaining the situation with Elijah. He was officially dead to her. He really could fuck off this time.
Wren drove to school and parked near a side entrance and walked fast to the front entrance. The air was so cold today, the sky so overcast that she feared it was going to snow. She hated the snow.
A girl bumped into her going past security into the building. It caused Wren to spill her coffee from her to-go mug on her jacket. The girl just kept going.
“Asshole,” Wren swore under her breath and kept her head down.
“What’d you say to me?” she asked and stopped dead in her tracks. “Did you hear what this loser just said to me, Jen?”
Her friend nodded. “Oh, yeah, girl. I heard it.”
“Bugger off, asshole,” Wren repeated, getting a strange look from her.
“You…”
“Skylar, just keep going,” the police officer said to the girl who’d knocked into her.
Wren kept going, too. She had no time or patience for these people in this stupid little town with their stupid football and their stupid athletes, one in particular. She really hoped Jaime got them out of here soon. Maybe tomorrow or the next day. Usually, that was about all the notice she got. Just to be safe, she’d washed and packed away her clothes last night in the hopes he’d say it was time again.
They had a sub in English, and she was relieved that Elijah wasn’t there. Most of the kids played on their phones. Instead, she got a pass to the library where she researched Tacoma, Washington, since it was a city Jamie had named last night as a possibility if they had to move.