After [A Journey of the Twins Novel] (2 page)

Several animal heads decorated the walls and a fire burned warm and inviting in the large fireplace. An occasional spark floated into the air like the lightning bugs she used to catch as a child. Tables and chairs sat throughout the room, ready and waiting for patrons to have a seat.

"How are we this fine morning?” the innkeeper's wife asked as she walked up to the table.

Shyanne remembered seeing her briefly the night before. A smile filled the woman's face and her eyes twinkled. She set down a large mug of hot cider in front of her.

She was a stout woman, her brown hair dusted with gray. The only noticeable wrinkles on her round face were the ones near the corners of her eyes, caused by lots of smiling. Though she had a stained apron over her worn dress, she gave the impression of being rich. Shyanne liked her right away.

Drizzle poked his head out from under the table. A friendly purr sounded. The sudden noise startled the woman; she recovered quickly. She did not seem the least bit afraid of the big cat hiding under the table.

"A humecat. I haven't seen one of them in a long while.” She bent down and gave him a scratch under his chin. “I bet you're just as rough and tough as you look."

Shyanne was amazed to hear that the wife had seen a humecat before. She had no idea others existed. She was glad, though. Maybe one day they would come across the other one so Drizzle would not be so lonely. He never indicated it, but Shyanne could tell.

"I can see Drizzle's doing much better,” Shyanne chuckled. “I'm fine too."

The wife straightened and took her order. As she moved toward the kitchen, Drizzle watched her go. He sighed. “Not all humans are bad.” He lowered his head onto his hands, watching the kitchen door with a forlorn look.

Shyanne picked up the mug and sipped at its contents to prevent the laughter that threatened to escape. She had no desire to hurt the humecat's feelings. Her eyes traveled around the room once more. The burly man continued to sit in across the way, drinking from a mug of whatever, probably ale. The man with shifty eyes sipped at his own mug. They glanced toward her, but quickly looked away when they noticed her watching them.

Those two sure do look out of place. They must be travelers. Their mannerisms says they don't fit in with the rest of the people here.

The men had an obvious nervousness to them, a complete opposite to the other patrons. Occasionally, a burst of laughter or a loud debate about someone's farm doing better that someone else's rose above the drone. Overall, a feeling of warmth and friendliness flowed about the room. Except from those two.

"Here we go.” The wife set the food down on the table.

Shyanne nodded her head in the direction of the pair across the room. “Who are those guys?"

"Trash!” she spat. “They rode into town yesterday and have been up to no good since. They caused a big ruckus here last night.” She cast a scornful look toward the kitchen. “All the money they flashed around was the only thing that kept my husband from tossing them out. Best watch yourself, young lady. You never know what will come out of a pair like that.” She bent over and placed a bowl filled with chunks of raw meat on the floor in front of Drizzle. Straightening, she wiped her hands with her apron.

"Don't worry.” Shyanne gave the wife a comforting smile. “I will."

While they ate, she started to think about her brother, Drayco. They were twins, yet nowhere near identical. She was a foot shorter, pushing the hell out of five foot two, with lightly tanned skin. A peppering of freckles covered her nose and cheeks and her hair was strawberry-blonde. Drayco, on the other hand, was tall. His hair was as black as a raven, falling just past his shoulders, and he had a dark tan. They both were slim and muscular, but not to the point of being bulky. Shyanne took after her mother while Drayco had a lot of their father in him.

Their mother and father had been loving parents. They made sure their children had a well-rounded education. Camping and fishing trips turned into science events. Instructions on which plants and berries were safe to eat were commonplace. Fencing was something she and Drayco had taken as an elective in school. He'd sparred with her often, which helped develop their expertise with the sword.

Her parents had been amateur botanists and read every book they could get their hands on. The backyard became a classroom on the care of many plants, including spices. Shyanne had fond memories of those times, and was very thankful for them today.

Before the virus ended their lives, both parents had worked for the government. They had discussed their job very little due to its confidential nature. All Shyanne knew was that they worked with DNA and other molecular structures, trying to find new ways to cure old diseases.

Shyanne remembered the day when Dad had surprised the family by coming home early from work. Mom was off, a rare thing for her, as well...

He had a worried look on his face as he guided her into another room, closing the door behind them. Shyanne looked at Drayco. They were enjoying an afternoon snack while doing their homework. She shrugged her shoulders. Both were curious about what was going on so they quietly crept over to where their parents talked. Ears pressed against the door, they tried to hear what was said. All they heard was frantic whispering.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Their father almost fell over the two teens who knelt next to it. He ignored what they were doing and indicated for them to get up. He was coughing. His nose was running. His eyes were red and bleary, as if he had been awake for weeks without the benefit of sleep.

"Get your things together. In the morning, we're going on a camping trip. We won't be near a power source so pack things that don't require electricity.” He and Mom went toward their room to start getting their things ready.

Later that evening, the twins were instructed to go to bed before 9 p.m. They had learned a long time ago not to argue with their parents. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary on the television when she and Drayco gave their parents a hug. Her father's cold seemed to be getting worse. She hoped he would be better before they left.

"Dad, you going to be okay? You have a really gnarly cold this time,” Shyanne said. Drayco nodded his head in agreement.

"Yes, honey, I took some cold medicine earlier. It will kick in soon. You and your brother go on upstairs and get to bed. I'll be okay by morning.” He gave her a weak smile of encouragement.

"Love you, Dad,” they chimed together. “You too, Mom."

"Love you back. Now get!” Dad emphasized his words with a wave of his hand.

Mom stared at the television with a concerned look on her face. “Love you too."

The twins hoped Mom was worried about something else, something on the TV, and not about Dad. Their parents had the usual number of colds throughout the year. They lasted a short while. Dad had his head resting on the back of the couch with his eyes closed as they darted up the stairs.

Shyanne snuck into her brother's room after they finished changing into their nightclothes and brushing their teeth.

"What do you think is going on?” she whispered so they wouldn't be caught.

"I don't know, little sis,” he whispered back. “They sure looked bugged about something."

"Dad sure has a bad cold this time, doesn't he? I hope he'll be okay."

"I hope so too.” A frown covered Drayco's face. “That cold came on him pretty quick. He was fine before he went to work this morning."

"Yeah. I hope Mom doesn't catch it. You know how Dad always shares all his colds with her."

"Yeah. They can be such babies when they're sick."

The twins snickered. They covered their mouths to hide the noise.

"You'd better get back to your room. You know how they can be if they find us awake.” Drayco pushed Shyanne toward the door.

"I know, I know. Just like when they have colds ... real babies."

That brought on another round of snickers. Shyanne disappeared out the door before her brother could throw a pillow at her.

The camping trip never happened. By morning, their father was unconscious and having a hard time breathing. Their mother dialed 911 when she couldn't wake him. Before the ambulance got there, he'd stopped breathing. Mom checked him. She found his heart had stopped beating, as well, and tried to get it started again with CPR. Nothing seemed to work.

The ambulance arrived within minutes. A fire truck was right behind it. The paramedics gently pushed Mom out of the way so they could start working on Dad. She gathered the twins and stood watching in shock. She took them downstairs to the kitchen. After a hug for both of her kids, she picked up the phone and called the grandparents. Shyanne noticed she had a bit of a sniffle and an occasional cough. Her eyes were getting red and bleary.

One of the paramedics came in to get her as she set the phone down. They had Dad on the gurney, heading toward the ambulance. He had a tube in his mouth, a bag attached to it. One of the men squeezed it to push air into his lungs. Another person was compressing on his chest as best he could while the gurney moved.

"I want you two to stay here and wait for Grammy and Grampy. I have to go with Dad. I'll call you from the hospital as soon as I can."

Mom knew better than to talk to them as if they were little kids. She tried to catch herself whenever possible. For the most part, she was successful. Under stressful situations, like today, she reverted to old, comfortable ways. They nodded their heads in silence. They were in too much shock over the situation to be able to speak.

The grandparents arrived in 20 minutes. They took the twins to their house instead of the hospital. They were of the old school; children were not needed in the hospital, no matter how seriously ill the patient was.

Later that evening, the call finally happened. It was not their mom. It was the hospital's Chaplain. Their mother was in the intensive care unit. Their father was dead.

The grandparents hugged the twins tight and went to the hospital, leaving them at home full of unanswered questions. Drayco and Shyanne had pleaded to go with the grandparents, but to no avail.

While waiting for information, the teens decided to turn on the television. Breaking news was on every channel. Hundreds of people were flocking to the hospitals and clinics with a mysterious illness. Symptoms were similar to the common cold. People not sick were urged to stay in their homes and remain calm.

The twins looked at each other. Each was thinking the same thought ... their parents. They returned their attention to the screen. Shyanne moved closer to her brother. She needed the comfort of his touch. Especially now. It was late into the night by the time they fell asleep, huddled together on the couch, waiting for their grandparents to return.

When their grandparents finally returned home early the next morning, grim looks were on their faces.

"What happened? We saw the news last night about all the people getting sick,” they chimed together; a frantic undertone filled their voices. “How's Mom?"

Grampy looked at his wife before speaking. With a sigh, he said, “We're so sorry. Your mother passed away this morning."

Grammy went to Shyanne and wrapped her in her arms. Tears flowed freely down both their cheeks. Drayco stood with his head hung forward, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Grampy walked up to him and gripped his shoulder. Drayco tried to hide his emotions. He was young; his emotions got the better of him. In an instant, he flung his arms around the older man and buried his face in his shirt. His shoulders shook with each sob that wracked his body...

Over the next couple of weeks, the news reporters had talked constantly about the disease and its devastating impact on the world. People were dying anywhere from 24 to 36 hours after catching it. No one could figure out how or why it started.

At first, the government remained aloof and denied any knowledge about it. They eventually broke down and admitted it was a virus created in total secrecy as a part of germ warfare, to be used “just in case". Nuclear power was available for weapons. It was expensive and under close scrutiny, making it hard to obtain. Biological warfare was inexpensive; it could be placed anywhere without anyone knowing who did it.

The scientists who created the virus had not anticipated the uselessness of plastic seals. It ate through the joints of the suits worn by the workers as if it was dessert, then entered their bodies. The virus was supposed to be a contact one. It mutated into something far worse. It became airborne.

These same workers carried it home to their families. They falsely assumed the decontamination process had worked. They were wrong; the world paid the price. Most thought it was just a cold, or allergies. They ignored the need to see a doctor until it was too late. Whole families were wiped out in days, a town in a week. A big city was cleared in a matter of weeks.

The news media plastered the names of the people who created the virus everywhere. They died immediately, if not by the public, then by the virus. Any chance of a vaccine died with them. The geniuses had not bothered to write down how they created the killer germ. They preferred to keep that knowledge to themselves, in case non-friendly nations illegally obtained the information. The government scrambled to find a cure with the data that was left behind. There was not enough to use. The virus continued its epidemic killing.

A few people became sick. After a couple of days, they recovered. Doctors learned that the lucky ones had high immune systems. Their white blood cells were extremely aggressive toward invading organisms like the virus, ending its progress throughout the body before it had a chance to establish. Shyanne had a high immunity. Her brother was the same. They recovered. They were lucky.

Those same doctors tried to use this information to help the people with inadequate immune systems. The virus was too fast. Young and old, rich and poor, they all died the same. Some tried to hide in fallout shelters made during the cold war. It didn't matter; the virus found them anyway. The deaths slowed when there were no more victims left to infect. Out of the billions of people worldwide, only a few hundred thousand remained when the rampage stopped.