∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Brooke returned from the kitchen with Hillary in tow to see that the poker game had already concluded, and the men were huddled around an aged laptop. Virgil was pulling up his conspiracy-theory webpage with Moto and John watching attentively over his shoulder.
“Yeah, here it is,” Virgil said, standing to let John take over.
“Wow, this guy is saying that the zombie’s muscles are controlled by the central nervous system after death, and that’s why they’re so uncoordinated,” John said as he browsed through the lengthy posts. “Another guy agreed and said that their blood vessels gel over and react to electric pulses to control the body instead of blood flow. That sounds like a reach to me, but it would explain why you have to destroy the brain and can’t just shoot them center mass to bleed them out.” John glanced up at Moto before clicking for the next page. “There are a few nuts on here, but I have to say I’m impressed with the consensus they’ve come to so far. Whoa, what happened? Did your internet go down?”
“Now how am I supposed to know?” Virgil grunted as he slid back into the chair. “You’re the one that broke the thing.”
“Virgil, it wasn’t his fault,” Marie yelled out from the next room. “The news lady is saying that they just now shut the whole thing down.”
Leaving the laptop, the group joined Marie in the living room to watch their last source for news. The ticker flashed updates that the United States government had shut down the internet temporarily for national security reasons. The rest of the screen showed a local reporter standing in front of a barricade talking about several ongoing, mandatory quarantines in the region. She also reported that a nationwide curfew was set for sundown and would continue to be strictly enforced for the upcoming nights.
Moto saw an opportunity and squeezed himself into the narrow gap that remained on the love seat next to Brooke while pretending to be fully focused on the newscaster. The woman on the television continued, saying that not only had all flights been grounded but that state lines as well as county lines were going to be indefinitely closed to any and all civilian traffic. She reported that, in an overwhelmingly unpopular decision, the White House had allowed for not only the National Guard but also for the rest of the available members of the United States military branches to enforce the new quarantines and curfews on U.S. soil.
“They’re taking what little bit of freedom we had left,” Virgil muttered just loud enough to hear.
“It’s not that bad,” Moto said. “We weren’t planning to leave here anyways, right?”
“Boy, if you haven’t figured it out by now, you never will,” Virgil said. “They’re not looking out for our best interests. Explain to me how shutting down the internet is going to help them fight this thing?”
“It was a matter of national security,” Moto said. “We can’t very well question their decisions when we don’t have all of the information that they do.”
“The day I stop questioning these morons is the day you’ll have to carry me out feet first,” Virgil scoffed.
Moto glanced to John with a confused look.
John interrupted, “Maybe it would be more beneficial for us to stay calm and just figure out what’s best for us and control what we can control. We can waste energy all night talking in circles about this, but we’re not going to end up in a better situation because of it.”
“That’s the kind of attitude that makes them free to do whatever the hell they please,” Virgil said, standing up. “But I guess that’s a fight that’ll have to wait for some other time. It’s about bedtime for us two old-timers.” He began walking toward the bedroom and motioned to his wife.
“Oh, Brooke, can you show the boys where they’re sleeping and where the towels are?” Marie asked as she shut off the TV by habit before following behind Virgil.
“Of course,” Brooke answered. “Don’t you worry yourself any more about all of us. You’ve already done so much. I’ll make sure these guys get to bed soon.”
“See you young’uns in the morning, then,” Marie said. “Y’all listen to her and don’t go stayin’ up too late. I’ll have breakfast ready bright and early.”
Moto leaned over to John and whispered to him with a grin, “Bright and early, I’ll be telling you all about how me and Brooke made out like Bonnie and Clyde.”
“I see the joke you’re going for,” John said, “but Bonnie and Clyde both got pumped full of lead in the end. They didn’t really make out so well.”
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
John was startled awake early the next morning to the sound of an apparent struggle in the next room. He jolted up to a seated position and saw that Moto was in the adjacent bed fast asleep. He had not completed his share of the all-night vigil. John rushed into the hallway and hesitated for only a brief moment outside the closed door where the sounds were coming from. As the rhythmic breathing and thudding continued on the other side of the door, John wouldn’t allow himself to pause and confirm whether or not something was truly wrong.
About the time Brooke reacted with a startle to his sudden intrusion, John realized that not only was she in no danger, but he was standing in her doorway wearing nothing but boxers. Brooke had apparently been working out to an old cardio DVD she’d found while listening to a low-talent but high energy band. She stood like a deer in the headlights, staring at John expectantly.
“Oh, oh, sorry,” he muttered. “It sounded like you might be in trouble. I woke up and saw that Moto fell asleep on the job, and I guess I might have panicked a little bit.”
“No, it’s fine,” she answered. “I just couldn’t sleep at all. After talking to him for a while, I figured there was no point in us both staying up, so I took over his shift.”
Becoming aware of his eyes’ desire to drift down to her form clad with tightly fitting athletic pants, John forced himself to concentrate only on maintaining eye contact with Brooke as she spoke. He struggled to really focus on her words at all with the amount of concentration it took for him to maintain control over his eyes. Only now had things calmed enough for John to finally allow himself to really take pause and fully appreciate her beauty.
“It’s pretty understandable to not be able to sleep after a day like yesterday,” John said. “I actually question my own mental health after sleeping as well as I did.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m exhausted,” Brooke said. “It’s just my sister. I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t help but wonder where she is right now--if she needs my help.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize you had any siblings close,” John said.
“Yeah, I’ve been doing my best to avoid thinking about it. I guess that translates into not talking about her. I can’t let myself picture her alone back at our place without thinking the worst, you know?”
“Believe me, I do,” John said. “I had to leave my own mother to fend for herself back at the hospital. I feel this unbearable weight of guilt now every time I try to stop myself from thinking about her, but it’s still nothing compared to what I feel when I do let myself think about what might’ve happened to her after we left.”
John stopped himself from going into it any further after he noticed Brooke’s unbearable expression. He was shocked at how natural he had felt in unloading his deepest emotions to the beautiful woman whom he still considered a stranger. John spoke awkwardly and without thinking to cut into the silence before Brooke felt any pressure to respond. “Anyways, maybe it’s best if we don’t leave it up to your imagination. What’s stopping us from going to get her?”
“I don’t know. We have responsibilities here now,” Brooke said. “She’s not exactly a few blocks down the street; it would take all day. What if she’s better off where she is?”
“If you truly believe that she is, then fine,” John said. “But if it’s gonna keep nagging at you, I want you to know that we can make it happen. I’m sure Steve could use the extra day to rest up before we head back out. Virgi
l sure seems like he’s warmed up to having us around, so I’m sure we could talk him into another day of company.”
“When I was laying there trying to sleep, I actually thought about why I just left my perfectly good van back in the parking lot at the hospital. My sister really isn’t far at all from there; we could go get both and be back before dark.”
“The second car would definitely come in handy. We don’t really want to leave all of our stuff exposed to the elements, and that’s how it’s going to be now that we have a full truck,” John said.
“First things first I guess,” Brooke said. “We need to see how Steve is feeling, and then we can mull it over at breakfast.”
“Can we go check on him now?” Hillary asked softly.
For the first time, John realized that their entire exchange had taken place in front of the little girl who was still lying comfortably in Brooke’s bed. John smiled at her as he thought back on anything inappropriate he may have said.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
While the girls spoke with Steve, John dressed and went downstairs for a drink of water. There, he found Virgil emptying the ice trays into a top dollar cooler, and refilling the trays with water. When John inquired about it, Virgil explained that there was probably a decent chance of the power going down, considering everything that was taking place. To avoid losing all of the contents of their refrigerator, should that happen, Virgil was going to accumulate as much ice as he could. John considered how obvious the idea was, but that he would’ve never thought to do it. He nodded and asked Virgil if he should fill the bath tubs with potable water, like his mom used to do before hurricanes made landfall. Virgil was a fan of the idea.
At breakfast, no opposition was raised when Brooke mentioned her intentions of returning to the hospital and picking up her sister in the city. John had feared that Virgil would be resistant to any commitment of housing their group indefinitely, but most of the energy around the table was directed at Moto’s being late for breakfast. Steve had declined any interest in battling his way down the stairs and elected to have a muffin and some orange juice brought up to him instead. Marie was optimistic about his recovery and reported that he had survived the night without his condition worsening, but John remained skeptical.
After breakfast, John pulled Moto aside to ask if he would be okay staying behind to help Virgil keep watch over the house while he and Brooke took the day trip to retrieve her van and sister. He also stressed the importance of keeping a close eye on Steve’s condition. Moto understood John’s reasoning and forced himself to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t have much of a chance at securing Brooke’s heart.
“Fine, spend some quality time with your girl,” Moto conceded. “All she’ll talk to me about is you, anyways. I was giving her some of my best lines last night, but, no matter what I threw at her, she just kept asking about you. You owe me by the way. God help me I don’t know why, but I put in a good word for you, and, just a heads up, you’re really into books and poetry if she asks.”
“Believe it or not, my first priority right now is not some chick,” John said. “I’ve got a million other things going on, if you haven’t noticed, and, even if I was looking, she’s not my type.”
Sensing that Moto knew him too well to buy his bit, John continued. “Fine, what kind of poetry specifically?”
“You’ll have to do your own leg work from now on,” Moto answered. “I’m actually back to hoping you’ll strike out, and she’ll come around.”
“God, you’re hopeless. But I appreciate the good word,” John said as he turned to leave.
“But, hey,” Moto interrupted. “So, if you’re going back to the hospital, are you gonna check on mom?”
“Believe me, she’s all I’ve been able to think about, too. I’ll have to play it by ear, with the National Guard and everything. She made it clear that she didn’t wanna know what was coming, and that she considered that to be our final goodbye. But given the chance, yeah, I’d like to swing by and see how she’s doing and let her know the dog is ok.”
“If you do see her, could you just tell her that I’m sorry for everything and just that I love her?” Moto asked with as much sincerity as John had ever heard him speak.
“You’ve got it man. I’ll tell her.”
Moto forced a smile when he saw that Hillary had returned from feeding the dog her leftover bacon. She ran up and grabbed his hands, begging for his help in solving an old children’s puzzle that Marie had dug out for her.
Once John had packed a survival bag, just in case they should be delayed from returning that night, John and Brooke began their drive back to the hospital. There wasn’t much conversation between the two; they were both anxious about what condition they might find their loved ones in. The streets were more navigable than John feared they might be, though it wasn’t at all uncommon to drive up on a burned out shell of a car still smoldering on the road. The little bit of traffic that was still out traveled slowly in order to dodge the debris that had scattered across the terrain from burnt houses and ransacked businesses.
Upon reaching the hospital, they were happy to see that the building was still almost as intact as it had been before. Near the front entrance, John quickly spotted Brooke’s van wrapped with floral designs but continued up to the front door since there was no sign of danger or the National Guard. As he pulled up under the portico, John noticed that all of the lights were off and a sign had been taped to the glass by the front door. It read that all patients, equipment, and meds had been moved to a new location outside of town that was serving as a camp for those in need of assistance.
“I don’t like the sound of that at all,” John said. “It doesn’t add up. Why would they be better off in some tent outside town than to stay here?”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Brooke said. “Maybe they were understaffed at all of the hospitals, so they consolidated everything and everyone. The military probably organized everything. They’re trained for all this stuff.”
“Yeah, I guess there was bound to be a run on the drugs if they’d kept everything here,” John said. “Maybe this is the best possible thing for her right now. I am honestly surprised the building is still standing after the way we left it. I’m a lot more optimistic about her now than I was this morning, I’ll say that much.”
John dropped Brooke off at her van and followed behind her for the short drive to her parents’ old place where her sister now lived. John was relieved when Brooke turned into the parking garage of a building that was in far better condition than many of the others they had been driving past.
His attitude changed quickly, though, when several levels up Brooke suddenly jumped from her van and ran frantically toward one home’s open door.
“We’re too late!” She yelled.
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For a moment, John couldn’t figure out what had set Brooke off, but he quickly realized that it wasn’t as promising of a scene as he had initially suspected. John pulled forward until he could see that the car in front of Brooke’s van had been left with its hatchback still open wide, and what remained of the groceries had been strewn about the concrete. Inside, the door to the apartment was also left ajar, and John calmly pulled out his concealed pistol and chambered a round.
“Go back to the van and stay there,” he instructed. “Get your gun, and just wait for me to come back for you. I’ll be quick.”
Brooke was hurt that John didn’t want her help in sweeping the apartment but secretly appreciated not having to witness what kind of scene she now expected was waiting inside. She clutched her gun and watched the numerous doorways and cars in the garage closely. The door to the apartment where her childhood friend had grown up had been sprayed with bullets and appeared as if someone had tried to kick it in. A car just a few spaces down from her van had been ransacked for whatever or whoever had been inside. She leaned her seat back to hide herself from the van’s more lightly tinted front windows and watched i
n the side mirror as a group of three men on foot canvased the area. There was no doubt in Brooke’s mind that they had seen her and that their intentions were anything but pure as they slowly approached. Before they had any more time to close the narrowing gap, Brooke swung the door of her van open and sprinted through the garage and into the apartment.
Brooke froze when she rounded a corner to find John pointing his gun directly at her face. After she explained what had startled her, John comforted Brooke and went to lock up the van, and investigate the suspicious group.
After calling out for her sister and getting no response, Brooke realized that her palms had become sweaty and were now making it hard to properly grip the pistol. She wiped her hands on her pants and walked to the nearby guest bathroom to rinse her face and calm herself. In the sink, she found bloodied bandages and scattered medicine bottles. Spurred on by new hope that her sister could be alive after all, Brooke couldn’t wait any longer for John to return and instead walked straight to her sister’s bedroom. She was disappointed to see that the bedspread was untouched from being meticulously made one morning. John called out from the kitchen that he hadn’t found the men and asked where Brooke had gone.
“I’m in the bedroom,” Brooke yelled. “She’s not here.”
She was about to round the corner into the hallway as she had done hundreds of times before to head to the kitchen. She could effortlessly navigate her way in the pitch black if she had to. Something was off this time, though. Brooke paused and then froze. Standing perfectly upright and still, her mind processed that she had caught an almost undetectable glimpse of her sister’s silhouette in her periphery. Brooke dared not move, even to release the breath trapped in her lungs, and slowly cut her eyes to confirm that her sister was standing motionless in the darkened bedroom across the hall.
And the Blood Ran Black Page 13