Look Away: an apocalyptic survival thriller (180 Days and Counting... series Book 5)

by B. R. Paulson

  Look Away

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  The End

  Look Away

  Book 5

  180 Days and Counting… Series

  B. R. Paulson

  Look Away

  She couldn’t escape the virus.

  Cady has nowhere left to turn as Scott has fallen ill and she’s following suit. Fighting the symptoms as long as possible, Cady is out of time.

  Margie is making her way home to her daughter and granddaughter, but she’s on lockdown with certain death outside the convenience store and guaranteed insanity inside. Margie has to choose which is the less of two evils – which is more preferable to die?

  With the virus terrorizing the population at the darkest levels, the flicker of hope left for the three generations of women fighting to stay alive fades to black.

  Chapter 1

  Cady

  At least Mom was okay, even if the rest of the world had been run into the ground. Cady had nothing else to hold onto except the fact that her parents were still alive. She could hold onto her sanity if one person she loved was going to make it.

  Cady balanced the cookie sheet she was using as a tray on her hand. She placed a cup of tea and a small container of honey beside a plate of eggs and a small bowl of oatmeal. She reached up into the medicine cabinet of her kitchen and grabbed two roll-on vials of helichrysum and ravintsara. Laying them on the napkin beside the plate on the sheet, Cady hoped she wouldn’t have to use them. They didn’t hurt, she just didn’t want the rash they were supposed to treat.

  The last thing she needed was a slice of aloe plant. She broke off a fat blade and rested it beside the vials on the napkin. Scars laced one large blade of the plant that sprouted from a five gallon bucket she kept healthy. If nothing else, she could at least offer skin care via plants and oils.

  While Bailey and Jason still slept, Cady glanced out at the burgeoning spring morning.

  Even as a deadly virus ravaged the world’s population, the sun was determined to make its presence known. Early morning rays broke through clouds and glistened off morning dew and still melting snow. Small puddles made themselves at home in the low parts of the yard and Cady could just glimpse green grass struggling to break through the dead, brown and damp grass from the last season.

  She’d already let the chickens out and checked their food and water, as well as gathered their eggs. Almost fifty chickens allowed for a hefty collection of eggs both morning and night. She would clean the eggs and then dip them in wax for safe keeping. There was no way they would eat fifteen to twenty eggs a day. Even if they tried. Well, maybe Jason could. The teenage boy seemed to have a hollow leg with how much he ate.

  Cady lowered the tray and continued staring outside. Every joint in her body had taken on an ache that throbbed. But Cady had to ignore them. Even the cramping and spasms in her back below her sacro-coccyx had taken on a personality all its own. As long as Cady denied the existence of the sickness, as she long as she ignored it taking over her body, she would do fine. She would be able to avoid its toxic debilitation and continue on like she only had a headache.

  Except… Cady had to know that wasn’t true. In the smallest, quietest, most honest part of her mind, she did, but even that part of her wouldn’t admit the truth. There was too much to be done.

  Leaning forward, Cady grabbed the washcloth and wiped at the counter. Thinking back to that morning and when she’d gotten up to feed and change the baby Scott had brought home with him and his nephew, Cady had been able to get the newborn back to sleep. Laying back down in her own bed, she’d stared up at the ceiling, unable to go back to sleep herself.

  How could she when she had no idea what was happening out there? No news, no reports, no calls from anyone.

  Thankfully, Cady had wandered downstairs and paused at the blinking light on the message machine. Thinking about it now, Cady was glad she’d pressed play. She’d needed to hear that message.

  Her mother’s voice had worked its way through Cady’s foggy mind. Two things that she focused on from the message – one, they were okay, Margie and David, Cady’s parents, and two, Margie had somehow tied the virus to shingles. Of course, that hadn’t been a stretch when Cady had left her numerous messages about the virus coming and that it was related to varicella viruses. Somehow though, Margie had pinpointed it to shingles. She’d admonished Cady to treat the sickness like shingles, if she and Bailey were still alive.

  There was no caller ID attached to the call, so Cady couldn’t try calling Margie.

  Treating the sickness like the shingles was easy to do. Cady could do that, but she wasn’t sure if those steps would be enough. She’d seen the effects of the virus. The illness and symptoms seemed to mess with the victims mentally – not just physically with the rash, fever, pox, and aches and pains. No, there was a mental psychosis that they seemed to fight with. Cady couldn’t figure out why. Maybe the pain level was so intense it drove a person slightly insane. Or maybe seeing so many people dying around them broke the victims in half.

  Cady wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something to keep in mind as she got sicker and she treated Scott for a more advanced illness.

  If all she could do, however, was treat the virus like shingles, then that’s what she would do. Whenever Cady got her shingles, she rubbed helichrysum and ravintsara on the rash and around the tingling skin. She, also, used aloe to soothe the itching burn. Vitamin C was usually the topper with plenty of rest. Ibuprofen and Tylenol never seemed to do anything, so she wouldn’t even attempt the more pharmaceutical medication.

  That’s how she was going to have to treat Scott’s illness. She would have to touch him and he might take things the wrong way, or maybe they would be the right way, she wasn’t sure.

  All Cady knew was that she had a lot riding on her and Scott getting through the virus, a relationship between them wasn’t at the top of the priority list. She would treat him the way Margie had instructed.

  Then she would treat herself the same.

  Cady knew she was infected. She wasn’t sure when the symptoms would start to manifest themselves, but if the aching joints were any indication, she would come down with it sooner rather than later. The incubation periods were inconsistent across the board. Where Jason had been exposed longer and in more concentrated amounts, Scott was the one to come down with it sooner as was Cady.

  Hopefully Jason was able to avoid the mortal effects of the illness. Cady didn’t want her daughter to see even more people she cared about die.

  She rinsed the washcloth and wrung it out, hanging it over the center divider between the sinks. Cady didn’t want to go upstairs and face her future. Scott was getting sick and fast. It was only a matter of hours or days before she was in his position and he was… dare she say, dead?

  Shaking the negativity away was harder than she’d hoped. Grabbing the tray, Cady headed upstairs. She would take care of Scott the best she could until she couldn’t move anymore.

  She didn’t
want to lose herself in the virus, but she was afraid that if she didn’t, she might lose herself all together.

  ~~~

  Cady allowed herself to fall into a routine over the next two days. She lulled herself into believing it was okay to feel achy and tired – she was helping with a newborn and a sick friend and apparently watching her teenage daughter flirt with a slightly older teenage boy.

  Rather than focus on Bailey’s adolescent flirtation, Cady focused on Scott. He hadn’t left the bed in a while, except to go to the bathroom and even then, he needed help. He wouldn’t have left the bed otherwise. His pallor had worsened over the last forty-eight hours and his words slurred in random times. Cady couldn’t find a pattern or cause for it.

  Bringing up Scott’s next treatment, Cady knocked on his door and pushed inside. As Cady entered, she stopped, smiling at Scott sitting up on the bed. A light sensation of relief flooded her chest, opening her up and making it easier for her to breathe. She had hope. He was looking better. She swallowed past the scratching in her throat and forced a cheerful tone. “You’re feeling better? That’s great! That says a lot about essential oils.” Cady’s hope was revived as she rested the constantly refilled tray on the nightstand beside the bed and turned to face him.

  She paused, studying the dim look in his eyes. Worry twisted in her chest and focused on the scent of peppermint oil she’d swiped under her jawline before coming up. Furrowing her brow, Cady leaned closer to get his gaze to focus on her. “Scott, are you okay?” Hesitantly, she reached out and touched his forehead. The fever burned hot and furious against her palm. “Scott…”

  His gaze was glassy as he slowly turned his eyes toward her. Shaking her head, Cady clamped a hand over her mouth. Despair won the war with hope and her spirits sank.

  The rash she’d been fighting on him with oils repeatedly applied every three hours for the last two days stood out starkly against his pale skin like a crimson stain. Creeping up the bend between his neck and shoulder and spreading down under his shirt collar, the angry red of the rash left little to the imagination. It was out to conquer his flesh and leave nothing but destruction in its path.

  She stood there, staring at the evidence that the sickness had come on with a pounding persistence. What she was seeing was her future. She couldn’t give up. Sometimes the oil didn’t prevent the illness, it just helped the immune system fight it off. That didn’t mean the symptoms wouldn’t be there. All if meant was that Cady was helping Scott find relief from the pain of the rashes and the rest of the illness footprints.

  Cady tucked her chin and picked up the ravintsara. “Well, at least we know where to apply the oils exactly.” Hopefully, she had done some kind of good previously by applying the oils before the appearance of the rash in full force. She grimaced, when she meant to smile.

  Scott blinked, scrunching his eyes and reaching up to rub his face and his eyes. A thick stubble shadowed his jaw and his fingers scratched over the hair with a raspy hoarseness his voice seemed to match. “I can’t focus, you know?”

  Cady glanced at his face, anxious to hold onto some lucidity, some sign that he was still in there and hadn’t been damaged mentally, yet. She would have to add the yet, until she had evidence that it wasn’t guaranteed. She licked her lips. “But you can hear me?” Cady wasn’t sure what he was feeling at that point and just how much he understood. She picked up the ravintsara tube and approached him slowly. “Can I put this on?” She held up the vial so he could see, or at least try to see.

  He stared blankly at her, watching as she got closer. After a moment, he nodded slowly. His confusion twisted and became consternation, horror and terror wrapped into a twisted mask of disbelief. He reached out and grabbed Cady’s free wrist, his fingers clammy and cold. His eyes roved her face wildly. “I… I did awful things, Cady. You should send me home. You shouldn’t take care of me. I’m…” Tears leaked from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks to the week old stubble along his jawline. “You don’t… I don’t…”

  Cady shook her head, more than enough sorrow for them both in her heart. Rubbing her thumb along his jaw, Cady ducked her head to stare into his eyes. “Sh. You’re okay. There’s nothing you’ve done that you can’t forget. Just push it away, Scott. You did what you had to do.” Cady reached out and softly ran her fingers over his face. She wiped his tears away and nodded encouragingly when he finally raised his gaze to hers. “Let’s not worry about it anymore. Focus on getting better physically and then we’ll deal with the emotional and spiritual parts of us that are broken, alright? Now, I need you to focus. I know you’re hurting, but can you tell me how much and where?”

  If they focused on their overall pain, they might not want to get better. They might be able to understand the suicidal move their neighbor made a little more clearly.

  He cleared his throat and straightened his arms to shift himself backwards an inch or two. “Everywhere, but mostly where the rash is. It… burns. I… I know I deserve it. Like hell.” He lowered his eyes and took a deep breath.

  Cady didn’t question him on whatever he’d done. She couldn’t believe Scott had done anything that was truly bad. He wasn’t the type. Cady had killed someone and he’d brushed it off like it was part and parcel of the situation. Nothing was worse than killing someone. She found that to be the case so strongly, she said so. “Nothing is worse than killing someone, especially innocent people. I killed Kent. Sweet Kent. You can’t have done anything that bad. So, let whatever it is go, you’re going to be fine.” Cady unscrewed the tube lid and leaned closer to him. His stale cologne wafted over her and she wished it wasn’t mixed with the scent of sleeping man. She murmured, “I’m going to put this on the rash, let me know how it feels.”

  She slowly rolled the oil on, watching his face as she applied it. As she touched him, he winced, but then the more she did, the smoother the wrinkles in his forehead became. Touching his face and checking along his hairline, Cady whispered, “Is that feeling better?”

  “Yeah, it’s actually easier to think with the pain down. I meant to tell you we should try the shingles treatment.” He nodded his head slowly and rubbed his hands together at his waist. His eyes became more focused and his voice less trapped in a painful rasp.

  Cady laughed in relief. “Yeah, my mom called and left a message. She put the shingles bit together, too. So, hopefully, the treatment cuts things in half. Unfortunately, it looks like it won’t completely get rid of the virus, but that’s how shingles and cold sores seem to work with the treatment, too. It took my last shingle case from six weeks down to two. I’m not sure how long the sickness is supposed to last, but I hope the oils lessen it.” She smiled encouragingly and screwed the cap back on. “I’ll put some helichrysum on and then later I’ll come back with more aloe.”

  He nodded, sighing as she applied the other oil. Thankfully, she’d loaded up on the most expensive of the oils. Beth was her supplier and she’d always made sure to get Cady the oils at cost. If nothing else, Cady had learned that investing in her health – even long term – was more important than investing in anything else.

  Prepper mentality had made her think of investing in her and her family’s health for a long time.

  Scott sighed again as the oil sank into his skin and into the shiny sections of the rash. “Thank you. It feels a lot better.” He leaned toward his pillow, lying down and closing his eyes. He didn’t even bother to move much as Cady maneuvered around him, cleaning up the things she’d used and moving his blanket back into place.

  After Cady took care of the medicine on the tray, she carefully tapped on Scott’s leg where she hadn’t seen any evidence of the rash. “I have some food here, Scott. Do you want to try eating it while I’m here?” Could he still eat?

  He worked his eyes open and watched her for a minute. “I’m too much of a burden. You should let me go back home.” His tone was solid and full, not the sound of a man who was insane with pain, but more like that of a man who had found relief and could
think clearly.

  Cady laughed, shaking her head at the thought. “You’re funny. You can barely sit up for very long. How do you think you’ll be able to make it to your house, even if I helped you? Not to mention how would you take care of yourself? Just let me do this. You helped me so much after Zach died, the least I can do is make sure you survive this virus.” She didn’t point out that she could’ve warned him sooner about the virus, or let him know about the vaccine, or so many other things. “Plus, I’m being selfish by hoping you make it, you know?” She winked at him, careful to keep the intention light. “I mean, if you die, what will happen to me?” She laughed at his joking, but weak scowl he flashed her in return.

  “Are Jessica and Jason alright?” He licked his lips, letting his eyelids droop. Even weak, he still looked strong and masculine.

  Cady focused on the subject. “They’re fine. I’m taking care of Jessica and Bailey is not put out by taking care of Jason.” She chuckled, arching her eyebrows. “It’s cute, actually. I’m glad she has a friend. There is a special emphasis on friend. Hopefully, you or I are around to make sure they realize how young they are.”

  Scott nodded like it was an after-thought, but didn’t stop his eyes from closing all the way. The relief from the pain would leave him feeling exhausted and he would be able to sleep without the disturbance of so much agony.

  Cady needed to make sure she didn’t get in his way, rest would help him get better.

  If the treatment helped with the pain, then Cady would make sure to keep it on hand. She had to let Bailey know how to apply it, especially if Cady was going to come down with the sickness soon. Everything – their care, the chickens, the house, the food, the baby, the guns, everything would be left to two teenagers.

  With how entranced with each other Jason and Bailey were, Cady hoped the house didn’t end up burning down. She didn’t have much choice but to hope they all survived the next few weeks.

  Even if it was the stupidest thing she could think of.