Prepper's Sacrifice

by John Lundin

  ‘Are you coming to bed?’ he finally said, running a hand lightly over her head like he usually did.

  His eyes saddened as Anne’s body quivered under his touch. Was he that scary? Was what he did that bad that she was so disgusted by him? He lifted himself from the ground and made his way to the bed where he laid his head down underneath the pillow. His right hand went above the pillow, pressing down to drown out the sound of Anne crying and the sound of the sirens whizzing off. As if he didn’t feel guilty enough, more screams from Ed had to pierce his ears. When he released the pressure he was applying to the pillow, he could hear Anne pushing away the furniture between her sniffles.

  ***

  The next morning, Stewart was still being issued the silent treatment by his wife. When he had woken to see her sitting in front of the windows with the curtains drawn back as far as they could go, he knew that she wasn’t about to let things go just yet.

  ‘Care for a cup of coffee, Anne?’ he’d said, having put all of his energy into making the coffee sound as appealing as possible.

  As he had expected, his wife remained silent.

  ‘You know, you’re going to have to talk to me at some point. There’s no reason that I should have to bleed out just waiting for it to happen.’

  ‘Bleed out!’ Anne snapped. ‘You know who was probably bleeding out while you shot yourself in front of the door like a freaking deadbolt?’

  ‘Anne,’ Stewart pleaded.

  ‘Yeah. That’s what I thought. You don’t want to hear just how heartless you were. Absolutely heartless. God knows, you’re not the friendliest person to begin with, but treating Ed like a burglar. Acting as though he was being an asshole for coming to you for help, that’s just downright cruel.’

  ‘I’m not a doctor, Anne.’

  ‘To hell you’re not. What would you do, put your patients in solitary confinement when they’ve got the common cold?’

  ‘Anne,’ Stewart pleaded again. He was wrong. There was something worse than her silence. The way she was breaking him down and making him seem as though he had horns protruding from his head was traumatizing. ‘I did this for us.’

  ‘Well you know what, Stewy?’ she hissed. ‘The next time, just think about you.’

  ‘There’s no just me in a marriage. So I’m sorry, I can’t do that and quite frankly, I’d do it again. If this happened ten times in a row, I’d always protect you. I’d always protect us.’

  ‘And if it happened to us… If we were the ones who needed to go knocking on someone’s door for help. What then?’

  ‘I’d understand. I’d fully understand if no one wanted to let us in. The entire city is in a state of panic and for a damn good reason at that. You know how many people have died from this thing. I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure that we’re not the next ones to end up six feet under. I’m putting us above all of them. No one’s fighting for our survival. No one’s making sure that we’re okay. Our stockpile didn’t buy itself. We didn’t go out and get hazmat suits because the government said it’s about time we prep for a worst case scenario. No, we did all that on our own, because we saw the threat. We saw the threat that was coming when everyone else was gallivanting around pretending like the news reporters were just gibberish. So shoot me now if I don’t just swing the door open when a fucking threat lands on our doorstep.’

  ‘You know…here’s what I don’t understand. You buy these hazmat suits, just like the ones these guys out there are wearing, but for what? So that you can have them sit around in the closet while you do nothing.’

  ‘No, so that we can be even safer.’

  ‘So why couldn’t you have just tossed one on and help Ed.’

  ‘Because I couldn’t help, Anne. If we’d gotten all dolled up in hazmat suits and headed over there, the only thing we’d be able to do is hold her hair back while she puked. We would have sat there and watched and you know what that would have led to? You know what watching leads to?’

  Anne’s voice was a bit calmer and Stewart was clinging onto the hope that her attitude towards him would be calmer too. ‘What would it have led to, Stewart?’

  ‘It would have led to sleepless nights. Nights where both you and I do nothing but dream that we’re the ones hovered over a toilet seat and crapping our pants while we’re at it. It would have led to us driving ourselves crazy thinking that in a day or two, or three we’d be showing symptoms. We’d be running around this damn house in fear, not knowing what to do with ourselves.’

  She was starting to understand. Stewart could see it in the way her head kept budging to the side, wanting to turn around.

  ‘Stewy,’ she said, still facing the window. ‘It’s just scary. It’s scary to think that something like this is happening and it has the potential to make us inhumane. You know that I’m not the kind of person to turn a blind eye…’

  Stewart interjected, ‘I know that Anne, I really do and that’s what I love about you.’

  ‘But, I’ll have to, wont I? If it gets really bad, I’ll have to just sit here and pretend like the world is my enemy. I can’t show sympathy. I can’t look someone in the eyes and tell them that I care. Instead, I’ll have to stand behind a door and yell my feelings, yell concerns, hoping that they’ll hear in my voice that I want to help. Hoping that they’ll understand that I can’t.’

  ‘We won’t be the only ones, Anne. We aren’t the only ones. But this doesn’t define us. Not being help doesn’t make us terrible people. We’re just trying to survive just like anyone else. We’re trying to live through the experimental stage.’

  ‘They’ve got to find a cure. They just have to. This has gone on for way too long now and this stupid, stupid virus has claimed way too many lives. You know, I heard in the news that they’ve got some kind of experimental drug that they’re withholding because it hasn’t been FDA approved yet.’

  Finally, Anne had turned around, allowing her eyes to meet Stewart's.

  He scooted himself down to the end of the bed to get a bit closer to her without wanting to seem over-elated by the eye contact. ‘Didn’t they treat some doctors with that drug in the beginning stages? In Atlanta, I think it was?’

  ‘Yes, exactly that. But here’s what I don’t get.’ Anne paused, collected her thoughts and continued, ‘I don’t get why they have to wait for FDA approval when it’s already worked. I don’t get why they don’t just go right ahead and administer it to all those people who are dropping like flies right before their eyes.’

  ‘Backlash,’ Stewart answered.

  ‘Backlash? What kind of backlash?’ Anne asked, confused.

  ‘Well… I think there’s two parts to this. Firstly, maybe those drugs really aren’t ready for the market yet. Maybe they have some kind of side effects that are a lot more detrimental than the virus itself. And on the other hand, maybe it’s best that the FDA is holding off. After all, they’re the authority. They’re the responsible ones and the minute that they start slacking on their procedures is the minute that each and every drug that might work for an illness will pass without being thoroughly examined.’

  ‘Hold up. Let’s go back a minute. You’re telling me that the drugs probably have side effects worse than Ebola? The side effect of Ebola is death, it can’t get any worse than that.’

  ‘Well, maybe they’re afraid that it will prompt the virus to mutate which could be a lot more serious than anything we’re dealing with now. I mean, if it does, they’re looking at losing all the research they’ve done and the possibility of the virus becoming airborne. And, of course, there are the side effects. If it cures one thing but brings on an abundance of other ailments, they’ll be looking at more lawsuits than their lawyers are equipped to handle.’

  Anne’s hands flung to her mouth. ‘You don’t think that would be possible, do you?’

  ‘I think they’ll do everything in their power to ensure that it doesn’t happen.’

  ‘But like you said,’ Anne’s face went pale, ‘they’ve
already given the drug to that one doctor in Atlanta.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’m sure that they’re keeping a good eye on him.’

  ‘I dunno, Stewy. It’s all just very odd. I think maybe they do have a cure. I think maybe that drug the doctor received was the cure and now that they have proof it works, they’re just making sure that when the general population has access to it, they’ll be making bank.’

  Stewart was startled to see that his wife had adapted his way of thinking. ‘Umm…’ he stuttered. ‘Well…’ He wasn’t going to give in. He wasn’t going to instill even more panic in her. If she started thinking this way, she’d probably start painting signs and develop a meet to go around patrolling with the protestors.

  ‘Makes sense, doesn’t it. Like the same way that I’m sure they’ve got a cure for Aids…’

  She did it again. ‘A cure for HIV,’ he forced a laugh. ‘Now you’re just being silly, Anne.’

  ‘Tell me you don’t really think they haven’t got a cure for that.’

  It wasn’t that Stewart liked lying to his wife. It’s just that he didn’t see the reason that both of them needed to be filled with paranoia. He was paranoid by nature and haunted by conspiracy theories. Anne, on the other hand, saw the good in the world. She was the light that he needed and if lying was what was going to keep his world lit up, then that’s what he needed to do.

  ‘See, the thing with HIV is that it’s a slow killer, like cancer. Ebola’s different. Even if they’re holding back a cure for HIV, people still have the opportunity to live long fruitful lives. Ebola drops you within days. It’s something that’s horrible to look at and so, I don’t think they’d stand around and allow something like that to flood the streets if they could help it.’

  ‘Hmm...’ Anne nodded. ‘Well, I guess I get to apologize for last night and throwing a fit.’

  Stewart sprung to his feet, ‘No, no. Don’t apologize. You really have no need to apologize. This here,’ he said placing his hand lightly on her chest, ‘this is what makes you who you are. This is what makes you so perfect. Don’t you ever apologize for your heart.’

  Anne moved her head up to greet Stewart’s. It was a gesture that he truly appreciated. The feeling of her moving her face against the stubble of his beard was indescribably good. He closed his eyes and reveled in the moment.

  ‘Okay,’ Anne said.

  Stewart opened his eyes and for the first time that morning, noticed what was going on outside the window. ‘Okay,’ he replied, moving away from Anne and closer to the window. Eventually, his forehead was pressed firmly against the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He almost wanted to rub his eyes just to see if he’d wake up. Unfortunately, he knew that there was no chance that he’d been dreaming.

  Through the window, Stewart focused his eyes on Ed’s house. What was once a neat Florida home with vines running up the sides and a face always peeking through the curtains, was now a home filled with more action than could be contained. Yellow tape was draped over the lawn, around the house and over the rosebush that Ed so proudly boasted about. Stewart watched as one masked guy, or perhaps girl, trotted into the house after another. He watched as one piece of furniture made its exit by means of the strong but definitely tired hands of the hazmat team. It all didn’t seem real to Stewart. It seemed like something out of a movie.

  Some things were too good to be true. This, on the other hand, was what nightmares were made of.

  Chapter 8

  Anne and Stewart tuned into the news to get an idea of what was going on. They hadn’t left their home for over a month and a half, and though they were living comfortably on all their supplies, they wished for a glimmer of home each and every day. Anne had suggested that they keep away from the news for a while as there was hardly ever anything cheerful to see. Even those cutesy reports of cats and dogs being rescued had been exchanged for reports about bats and monkeys carrying the virus. Day after day, it seemed as though all that was being broadcasted was a body count and cries of how the hospital could hold no more patients.

  Ebola, like the parasite it was, had clung to an approximated 1 in every 1000 people in Fort Lauderdale, Anne and Stewart came to realize from listening to the news. They knew it was bad because there was hardly any activity going on in their entire neighborhood. Ed had been taken away and presumably quarantined after that horrible night when he came banging on their doors. God only knew if he or Evelyn were actually infected, or even if they were still alive. Instead, Stewart would peek out the window every day hoping to see Ed’s face staring back at him, but this was never the case. But the changes in their neighborhood weren’t only based on Ed. The usual teenagers skipping along to school and cars whizzing past at all hours of the night had stopped. Their entire neighborhood was swept by a stillness that was unnerving.

  Of course, Stewart appreciated the fact that his neighbors seemed to be taking the proper precautions, only going out when it was necessary rather than heading out to karaoke Fridays and Sunday brunches. It made him feel a lot better knowing that the familiar faces he'd grown to love—regardless of never having much interaction with them—were being careful.

  ‘Making good progress?’ Anne asked her husband.

  ‘Yeah, good enough,’ Stewart replied.

  ‘Great. Lunch will be done in a few. I’m thinking we can play a quick round of cards after we’ve had something to eat.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘Alright, Stewy. I’ll let you get back to that.’

  Anne headed into the kitchen and Stewart went back to work, hammering nail after nail. And as though he needed proof that securing the doors was the right thing to do, out of nowhere, a noise interrupted his progress. Outside the kitchen window, a rattling noise was to be heard. Stewart slowly made his way to his feet. Thinking this was finally it, finally the time where people were going around trying to steal anything they could get their hands on, Stewart reached underneath the sofa for his gun. He motioned for his wife to go hide and she did as she was told, sneaking peeks at him whenever she felt she wouldn’t be seen. Stewart was sure that the robbers saw when he moved through the house and were simply unafraid, making him sincerely believe that they were armed. Like a character in a military movie, Stewart crawled on the floor all the way to the kitchen where he hid in the corner beside the refrigerator. He carefully looked out from the corner to see the outside. However, he saw nothing and was certain that the robbers were hiding from him. He wiggled around a bit, finally finding himself a position that would allow him to get a view of the outside.

  ‘I’ve got a gun and I know pretty damn well how to use it,’ he yelled.

  He assumed that even if the robbers were hiding from him, they’d have to come up at some point.

  ‘Show yourself you cowards.’ Stewart demanded.

  And then it happened, one of the burglars popped up and sprung across the garden. He screamed like a prepubescent girl. His wife, watching the entire thing, couldn’t contain her laughter.

  ‘A raccoon… It...it… it... it was a raccoon,’ she stuttered. ‘A raccoon, Stewart. I’ve got a gun, Mr. Raccoon,’ she teased.

  Stewart, after finally gaining his composure, allowed himself to fill with laughter.

  ‘Those damn things. I could have sworn someone was about to crash right through the window.’

  Again, Anne burst out laughing. ‘Oh thank God.’ She laughed. ‘I don’t know what I would do if someone were to try to break in here.’

  ‘I guess in a sense, this is a good thing.’ Stewart felt an idea streaming in. ‘It’s proof that these doors need to be sealed off...’

  ‘Yeah, but the trash. How would we get it out if you did that?’

  ‘I guess I could make one door a bit easier to pry apart from the inside but at the very least it’ll keep intruders out for a while—long enough for us to get prepared for an attack.’

  ‘That makes sense. Plus, they’ll make a lot more noise trying to get through the wood than the front
door, for example.’

  ‘Exactly so,’ Stewart replied.

  Then he went back to nailing pieces of board onto the entry points of his home. He found the entire thing extremely sad; he was starting to feel more like a prisoner in his own home, more than anything else. The fact that there was no hopping into the car and going for a drive to the hardware store or the grocery store filled him with despair. At this point, he realized that even though he knew how necessary prepping was, a huge part of it was a hobby for him. He liked sorting through his stockpile, seeing the things he had and watching it grow week after week as he added more items. He loved shopping around for cool gadgets that he hoped he wouldn’t need, but loved to play around with.

  Now, even though he imagined he had a lot more stored up than any home in the neighborhood and definitely more than what the supermarkets had to offer, seeing as the news said that the majority of them had shut their doors, he still wanted more. He wanted to go shopping, the replace all the things that he and Anne had used over the past few months. He wanted to see what other cool items he could add to his pile. But of course this wasn’t a possibility.

  Stewart had imagined that the closing of the supermarkets was due to quite a few factors. For starters, the fact that the supermarkets were the number one places being swarmed by just about everyone was sure to instill a great deal of fear in the workers as well as result in a few sick workers, at the very least. Additionally, Stewart imagined that restocking their shelves became increasingly difficult as the economy started to feel the repercussions of the virus.