The Flu 2: Healing

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The Flu 2: Healing Page 15

by Jacqueline Druga

“Erie guys are back and said they really need to speak to you.” Jon said. “And …” he shifted his eyes. “There’s this really big biker looking guy here saying he wants his kids.”

  Before Briggs could question, before anything came from his mouth, a loud shriek from both Chris and Tigger rang out as they shouted “Mick!”

  They jumped to their feet and as they did, Mick rushed into the room, passed Jon and Briggs and didn’t make it two feet before he was blasted bodily by the boys.

  * * *

  Mick dropped to his knees and took both boys into his arms. “Oh my God,” he said, his voice gravelly with emotion. He held them tight, wanting to just absorb them into his body, being and soul. He could barely breathe his chest felt so full. His throat closed and tensed, making it even harder to talk. There he was, holding them, feeling them, when he thought he had lost them. “Oh my God, I am so glad to see you boys. I was scared I’d never see you again. So scared.”

  His hand grasped the back of Chris’ head and his other arm had Tigger tight to him. He kissed Chris, then Tigger, then repeated kissing them again. “Thank God. Thank God.”

  “I … can’t … breathe,” Tigger gasped. “You’re strangling … me.”

  Mick laughed and released his hold. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Mick.” Chris grinned. “Boy we missed you.”

  “And I missed that.” Mick touched Chris’ smile. “I was so worried.” He kissed Chris again then turned to Tigger. “And you.” He put both his hands to Tigger’s face, and plastered him with kisses.

  Tigger accepted the kisses, but not for long. He crinkled his face, shook his head and said. “Enough please.”

  “Sorry.” Mick sniffed and ran the back of his hand under his nose.

  “You okay, Mick?” Chris asked.

  Mick nodded.

  “You crying, Mick?” Tigger asked. “We’re okay, we aren’t hurt. We’re good. Why are you crying?”

  Chris gave a light backhand to Tigger. “Knock it off, he ain’t crying. You can’t be saying Mick’s crying. Not in front of…” He motioned his head upward.

  In the midst of the reunion, Mick didn’t see or notice the other man in the room. How he missed him, he didn’t know. Mick stood up and extended his hand. “Mick Owens.”

  “I figured as much,” Briggs shook his hand. “Jonah Briggs.”

  “Thank you.” Mick held firm to his hand for another moment. “Thank you so much for taking care of them. For finding them.”

  Briggs shook his head. “They found me.”

  Tigger added. “Chris hit him with the car.”

  “What?” Mick looked down to Chris.

  Nonchalantly, Chris waved his hand. “It was not real bad. I was driving and I hit him. He’s okay, though. See? He don’t go down easily. Not that if you guys were to square off that he wouldn’t go down.”

  Mick looked to Briggs. “He really hit you?”

  “Yeah, but it was my fault,” Briggs replied. “I was standing in the road. Your boys speak often and very highly of you.”

  Mick looked at Chris and Tigger. “They’re my world.”

  “And you’re theirs,” Briggs said. “Well, if you’ll excuse me. You must be hungry and thirsty. Help yourself. I need to talk to Wentworth and I’ll be right back.” He shook Mick’s hand again. “Glad you guys are reunited. Chris, show him where the food is.”

  “Yes, sir, Jonah Briggs.” Chris lifted his hand as Briggs left. He rambled on to Mick in typical Chris fashion. “He’s a nice guy, Mick. Didn’t hurt us, yell or anything. Been real good to us. Fed us, got us clean. I’m not joining the army or anything, I’m dressed like this cause that’s all he had. My clothes smelled ‘cause Tigger kept peeing his pants.”

  “I didn’t pee my pants, Mick. I missed,” Tigger argued.

  “It’s fine, Tig. I’m just so glad you guys are okay. That this guy had you.”

  “Say, Mick?” Chris said coyly. “He’s almost as big as you.”

  “Okay…” Mick was curious. “Why is that important?”

  “Do you think, not now, but maybe some time in the future, not too far in the future, but some time before both of you guys get too old, that you can maybe bring back wrestling against each other for one match?” Chris cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

  Mick opened his mouth to speak. What would he say? His heart was full and his head was spinning far too much to playfully give Chris a hard time. He was still absorbing the gratefulness over the fact that the boys were right there. Mick smiled, murmured a passive, “Maybe”, and grabbed onto the boys, bringing them into him one more time.

  15. Dark

  Lodi, Ohio

  Henry grew restless and a bit agitated over the fact that he had tried to reach the President of the United States. He felt like a pain in the rear for as many times as he called. But he knew the phone lines had to be up or the president’s line wouldn’t ring.

  He was positive it was a cell phone, because the president had previously told him he wasn’t getting a signal in the bunker. Last Henry had heard, they had since moved topside and the President, Secretary of State, Assistant Director of Homeland Security and a general from Washington were working on restructuring.

  That was October 3rd.

  The flu had been declared over everywhere but Lodi, and perhaps a few little towns. Two weeks had passed and still no word.

  Well, nothing from the government.

  Finally, Henry broke down and in his frustration sent a text: This is ridiculous. If you aren’t dead, call us now.

  “Really?” Kurt asked with a laugh when Henry told him. “Very teenage of you.”

  Henry grumbled. “I’m not used to the government shit. You’re the one who was government.”

  “Isn’t that funny, though?” Kurt said. “I was head of the CDC and people still think you were the one.”

  “That’s because I ran the epi center when you guys toppled.”

  “I was there.”

  “You were, the whole time,” Henry stated. “Now, we have this bastard of a problem.” He rubbed his chin. “And we can’t start to tackle it or come up with a plan until we get all the facts from Lexi and a course of action. Meaning, we have to speak to the president to find out what he has in the works.”

  Kurt tsked. “Nothing.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You have wayward groups of men burning out towns, wiping out warehouses and blocking themselves into Erie, I’m betting with our missing men from the food run. You have some new force calling themselves the United Army of America—”

  “Something like that, but close.”

  “They have every on the board militia group hooked up, linked up and working together, as Nelson said. With a lot of reserve soldiers and active duty. The president has little, if anything, to work with. Maybe he needs to work with what’s out there.”

  “Or maybe he is and is busy, that is why he hasn’t called,” Henry suggested.

  “You believe that?”

  Henry tightly closed his mouth and widened his eyes to Kurt. The bleep of his phone caused him to look down. “You have to be goddamn kidding me.”

  “What?”

  “He can text, but he can’t call? Now who’s teenage?”

  “What’s it say?” Kurt asked.

  “Simple, call you in a few.” Henry tossed down the phone. “Really? Really?”

  Kurt laughed. “That tells me he has nothing. And it’s time to do what you do best.”

  “And that is?” Henry asked.

  “Like you did with the flu,” Kurt said. “Take control.”

  * * *

  Erie, PA

  “How long …” Rose had to cough, but couldn’t. She forced out a peep, winced, and held tight to her side. “How long have you been here?” she asked the young girl.

  Her name was Lola, and she told Rose she was just getting ready to go into her senior year when the flu hit. She’d lived in Maryland, and was the
only remaining member of her entire family.

  “How long have I been in Erie or how have I been with this group?”

  “I wouldn’t say you’re in this group. Held by them, is more like it,” Rose remarked. “How long?”

  “Over a week. Maybe a little longer.”

  “Why didn’t you try to escape?” Rose asked.

  “I haven’t always been in this post office. Only a couple days ago when things got crazy and Ace went really off.”

  “It’s like bad fiction.” Rose adjusted her position. “They just ransack and loot. It’s odd. With all the death, I wouldn’t have thought it.”

  “Neither would I. I didn’t think it started out that way,” Lola said. “I headed out of home to DC, I thought maybe there things were getting back on the ground. I ran into Ace — that’s his nickname. He worked with the president and left. Was joining up with some others that were gonna put the country back together. He was gonna help. That’s what he told me. When the guy in charge was doing well, getting lots of stuff, I think Ace snapped. He didn’t like someone else having control,” Lola whispered. “That’s what he kept saying. ‘No one is going have control over my life or my food.’”

  “What about this … this other person?”

  “Last I heard he was moving on things and Ace wants to stop him. Ace got others to join him, start a separate society from this guy.”

  “Societies?” Rose asked. “This other guy has to be the one …” She struggled to breathe. “…the one my friend Nelson was talking about. He said … he said he joined forces with some guy.”

  “Is Nelson nice?”

  “He’s … he’s good people.” Rose immediately was putting two and two together. Nelson had joined forces with the guy in New York, and the fire starters had to be the Ace guy’s group. “Why are you now a prisoner?”

  Lola shrugged sadly. “I opened my mouth. We got in fight, because they were making people come here against their will and …” her head quickly turned at the sound of voices. “Lay down. Hurry. They’re coming back again.”

  Lola had told Rose over and over that she didn’t think they were coming to make sure she was okay or hope that she was getting better.

  Rose realized they had other intentions as soon as they walked in.

  She assumed her earlier position, lying still.

  “She’s still sleeping,” Lola said to them.

  “She moved,” one male voice replied. “She’s laying different.”

  “Yeah, I saw that, but she didn’t wake up.” Lola’s voice had a quiver.

  Rose could tell the girl was scared, she heard the voice step near her and didn’t expect what happened next. Her eyes were closed and the slam of the boot into her body took her by surprise.

  Lola screamed.

  The cruel first kick took everything Rose had to remain silent and in her pretend ‘coma’ state, but the second kick was far too much.

  Rose didn’t have the strength to fight, to yell or scream. She only grunted her agony.

  Lola defended her by yelling at the two men, “Why you gotta be so mean to her?”

  A ‘shut your mouth’ and slap to the face was their response and they walked out laughing.

  Lola cried when they left; Rose didn’t. There was no more fear of them walking in, and she didn’t have to play ‘comatose’. Rose had to think of helping herself or she would die right there on the floor of that post office.

  She took a moment, breathing through the waves of pain. “I had higher hopes for humanity,” Rose seeped out after they left, and dropped her head to the floor.

  “Me, too,” said Lola.

  * * *

  Damon, NY

  Are you kidding me? was Briggs’s first inward response, but he felt it too unprofessional to blurt out. His returning men from Erie told of what they found.

  Men, too many to count. Their vehicles, three gas tanks, huge tractor trailers that Briggs could only assume were his missing warehouse items. Weapons.

  “East, West, South,” Jon told him. “And they contacted us when you were at the clinic.”

  Briggs inhaled hard through his nose. “Why didn’t you get me?”

  “They gave a short message and didn’t want to talk to you.”

  “That’s absurd. How did they get this many men?”

  “We’ve been at this for weeks, Jonah, and apparently so have they. Up until recently they were working for us.”

  “And they barricaded themselves in Erie, Pennsylvania?” Briggs had a sense of sarcasm. “How ridiculous is that? Really. We’re working with people who can farm further south and out west. What does Erie have? It’s cold.”

  “Fresh water fishing, Ohio farm land, Amish country …”

  “Wait. Wait.” Briggs held up his hand. “Those are our territories. We spoke to people. We have men and women there.”

  “I think they plan on branching out.”

  “Branching out as in taking them?” Briggs shook his head. “This is unreal. Really unreal. How fucking hard is it to get everyone on the same page? I spoke to these people. What made them defect to this group?”

  “The New Republic.”

  “Oh, they have a name now? Swell.” Briggs shook his head. “This is not what we need right now. We have other things to deal with.”

  “Like the clinic?”

  “Yeah. It’s not good. Doc is trying like hell to reach Lodi, they have doctors there. Scientists,” he growled in frustration.

  “Jonah, as your newly designated right hand man, may I?”

  Briggs lifted an eyebrow.

  “You started putting things in motion when others weren’t even thinking about it. You had people hacking up a lung while giving their thumbs up to you. You pulled it together. In a perfect world, everyone would have followed your plan, done their part, the wheels would have rolled smoothly, and people would be singing happy songs while skipping across your new fields of grain.”

  “Was that necessary?”

  “Yeah, it is to give you an idea of how ridiculous a notion it was to believe that everyone would want to do this.”

  “People need structure and order or else they panic and have chaos.”

  “Yes.” Jon nodded. “But they want their own structure and order. Your plan was good. Too good. It came together perfectly, until someone else decided why should the UAA have it all? Why should they follow your law and order?” Jon held up his hand in defense. “I’m playing devil’s advocate here.”

  “I understand. So, right now, we have a dangerous wedge between us and the west.”

  “Done on purpose, I am thinking. If returning units can’t reach you … well, they might as well stop there. And they have civilians.”

  Briggs rubbed his head. “What exactly was the message?”

  “Short and to the point,” Jon said. “They said they’d be in touch with their demands and we’d be wise not attack or confront because they hold an ace.”

  Briggs squinted in thought. “What the fuck is the ace supposed to mean?”

  “I’m thinking kids. According to that boy, Jake, the men who raided their camp took kids.”

  Briggs grimaced. “Do you have a name? Maybe it’s someone we contacted, or if they’re from the 149.”

  “Yeah, Shane Drummond.”

  Briggs’ eyes slowly widened in revelation. “What? He from the 149? Do you recognize the name?” Jon asked.

  “Oh, I recognize the name alright. That makes me worried now about that Ace. He’s not from the 149th.” Briggs exhaled. “He was government. Homeland Security.”

  * * *

  Lodi, Ohio

  Tom wanted to kick himself for being so insensitive. With Baby Doe his new and self-proclaimed responsibility, Tom needed help with the store. People came in regularly, grabbed a movie then returned it. It was like the public library.

  He had gone over to Joey’s house. Hit and Run Video had two employees aside from Tom before the flu, his daughter Dylan and Joey, a tee
nager.

  Tom went to Joey’s to see if he wanted to come back to the store, something to do, and was surprised that the seventeen year old boy was living alone. His parents had both died of the flu.

  He asked if they boy had eaten, if he was okay. Joey was glad Tom stopped by and quickly accepted the offer. Then Tom made another. He told Joey that since he had the baby, he could use help at the house.

  The teenager would pack his bags and move in with Tom, after he worked his shift, of course.

  Tom put Joey on the three to seven shift. Dylan had hated that shift. Of course, she hated all shifts. Tom’s mind wasn’t on the business. He had tried to get a hold of Rose and she wasn’t answering. He wanted to see if anyone would volunteer to take a trip. He couldn’t get a hold of Mick, and Baby Doe seemed to be constantly hungry and fussy.

  Tom’s mood worsened by the hour. At least he knew his grandsons were safe, but they hadn’t called, and Tom wanted to speak to them. Before he settled for dinner or called Nelson to see if he could do a search party for Rose, Tom stopped at the video store, Baby Doe perched on his hip.

  “Hey, afternoon, Mr. Roberts, how’s it going?” Joey asked.

  “It’s going,” Tom answered. “How are things here?”

  “Weird.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, aside from it being busy, the phone keeps ringing.”

  “The phones are ringing?” Tom asked. “Are you answering it?”

  “Dude, of course. But that’s not what’s weird. I keep getting a wrong number.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Some guy keeps calling here, saying his name is Doctor Kitty. You know, like little kiddy or kitty cat, and he keeps on asking for our virologist. Something like that. I told him it was the wrong number, we only had movies. But he called back. He thinks I’m falling for his joke.” Joey shook his head. “Kitty.”

  Tom took a second, trying to remain calm, keeping in mind all the boy had been through. “Joey, did it dawn on you, in a post-pandemic world, maybe folks wouldn’t be playing prank calls?”

 

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