Cough (18 page)

Macy felt her face tense up. Her body went rigid and she fought back any emotions. “I thought the news said… they said people didn’t die right away.”

“She ... she took her own life. Pain pills.”

Macy folded her arms close to her body and sighed out. “I can’t say that I blame her.”

“Me either.”

Stokes paced across the porch. “Listen. You guys... you guys have fought it off this far. Just keep hanging on. You’re neighbors, they’re staying inside. Just avoid people. There are some that won’t get it at all. There’s a vaccine.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“Does it work?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I just … know.”

“You just know.” Macy nodded “Where is it?”

“Unfortunately, they have to produce it. But it’s out there, I swear. You just have to hold on long enough.”

“Will we?”

“Will you what?”

“Hold on long enough? Live long enough.”

“I want to say yes. But I don’t know.”

“You aren’t worried, Conrad,” she said. “You move bodies, checked on Lila, you’re in town. Is the reason you know about this vaccine because you had it?”

Stokes didn’t reply.

“I won’t get mad. I just need to know. Actually, I’d be hopeful if you said you got the vaccine.”

“I … got the vaccine.”

Again, arms folded tightly, Macy nodded.

Stokes looked to his right. On that porch he stood right before the living room window. He pointed. “The boys.” He indicated to the boys sitting on the floor playing a video game. “They seem okay.”

“They’re fine. Not sick and they’re going about their lives stuck in the house. They’re playing video games and dealing with their dad’s death.”

“You?”

“Me? I’m scared to death. But knowing, that out there, somewhere there’s a vaccine, a means to an end other than death, makes me feel a lot less scared. Cause it means out there, somewhere,” she said. “There’s still hope.”

<><><><>

In the quiet of the evening, the coughs sounded louder.

Wells was a beaten man, both physically and emotionally. He had just moved nine bodies out of the fire hall and Dr. Harmon said that he expected the rest to go before the next wave hit.

The next wave.

The state of delusion that a lot of the ill experienced was a blessing to them. It started out strong then after about twelve hours, while still suffering from hallucinations, their bodies were giving in. They from running and fighting, thrashing and banging, to convulsing and flailing their bodies as they fought to stand up.

They’re eyes turned bloodshot and they’re skin and lips pale blue. They lacked oxygen, struggled to breathe, to cough, and to expel any of that blood trapped inside. When they did breathe it sounded like a gurgling wheeze.

But they didn’t know.

They were trapped in their own minds, fighting whatever battle their minds projected. The others, the remaining that didn’t suffer from delusions, agonized over every shallow breath. After leaving the fire hall, Wells decide, before he stopped for the night, before he caught his breath, he wanted to do a check.

He took each exit out of town, checking the long line of cars jammed together.

A part of him guessed a few townspeople took Old Mill Creek out of town. A hiking path that followed the stream into the forest and eventually, led out past the highway. More than likely beyond the National Guard Check point.

If they stayed in the woods, it was a good one day journey. The thought of people leaving that route scared Wells, because if they were infected, if they were carriers, they were taking it to somewhere that possibly wasn’t exposed.

Wells was on the final exit. Things were calm. Coughs carried in the air and an occasional car horn would beep.

He assessed who was out there. Like the other four exits, so many ill were in and around their cars. More bodies, more townspeople to pick up in a day.

Those who didn’t get sick, left and headed back home. Some stayed with family members. But there were a lot of vacant cars.

In the dark he walked the line of traffic toward the front car. The person that made a hasty attempt to leave only to be barricaded in. As he approached, he saw his brother Albert a little before the car, standing by the newly erected concrete barriers.

Albert just stared out.

Wells approached him. “Evening.”

“Oh, hey, evening Eugene. What brings you out?” he asked.

“Just checking. You?”

“Watching.” Albert pointed. “Soldiers.”

Wells looked. A good fifty feet from the concrete barriers were army trucks, beyond them were bright spotlights.

“They moved further back,” Wells said.

“Yeah, did that this afternoon. Probably will be gone in a day or two.”

“Please don’t tell it’s because society is giving up.”

Albert faced him “It’s bad out there. I know you haven’t had time to listen to the news since they unblocked it, but it’s bad. These soldiers have families. My guess is they’ll go find them. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I suppose I would.”

“How’s it going in town? I’d be there more but …”

“I need you getting info. If anything comes through, any news about fighting this thing, I want to know.”

“I understand.”

Wells stared out. “This thing is killing me. We’ve lived here most of our lives and to watch this town ….”

“At least it’s not Cleveland.”

“What happened in Cleveland?”

“Lights went out already.”

“What?”

“No one going to work, no one mans the switch.”

“Jesus,” Wells sighed out.

“Let’s hope this ends soon.”

“Let’s hope. Because it’s a struggle. I have that feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every twenty-four hours is someone else’s seventy-two hour mark. It’s a hard thing to carry when you keep thinking, will this hour be mine?”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Wells didn’t respond.

“You don’t have to worry about getting sick, Eugene, you took the shot of vaccine.”

Wells looked at him.

“You didn’t take the shot?”

“I couldn’t.” Wells shrugged. “How could I do that? This is my town. I run this town, protect this town. If my town was going to play Russian Roulette with a death sentence, I have to stand with them.”

“They need a leader, not a martyr. You can’t die alongside them.”

“Better than watching them die and knowing I cheated.”

“Easy for you to say. You made me take that shot. What am I supposed to do if you get sick? You’re my brother.”

“It’ll be fine.” Wells looked down at his watch. “And I’m gonna head back. Shotsy’s is still open. Wanna get a drink?”

“I’ll be there in a few.”

“Gonna stay and watch the soldiers?”

“Something like that.”

Wells laid his hand on Albert’s shoulder. “If I am meant to beat this I will.” He gave a firm squeeze and walked away.

Albert wanted to scream. He didn’t show the emotions when his brother told him. Deep down inside he felt the crushing blow of his brother’s words. Didn’t his brother see? So nonchalantly, his brother informed him he was playing with death.

Eugene was all that Albert had left in the God forsaken world. He had held on to the fact that they would still be together even if the thing decided to wipe man into extinction. Now that ‘brother to brother until the end’ was a pipe dream.

Not only did Eugene tell him he didn’t take the injection, he also in so many words informed Albert that he condemned him to a life alone if by chance he succumbed to the virus.

All the technology, all the information, right there at his fingertips in the hidden basement of his home, and there was nothing that could be done to help his brother.

Or was there?

Someone knew something. They had to. Just like there was a vaccine, there had to be a way to feign off the virus other than hiding away.

Albert received his sign of what to do when he saw ‘the sign’.

Grady’s BBQ Pit. It was a yellow sign with blue letters on the side of the highway.

Grady’s BBQ Pit, open Saturday.

BBQ.

The virus lady.

He hurried the mile through the traffic jam and back to his home. As a professional hacker, he never revealed his identity. Never let anyone know he was watching and listening, but the moment at hand was an exception.

After all, at the rate of how things were going, how long would it be before he didn’t have the power to listen in anymore? He had to seize the moment while he could. If he didn’t, he would be kicking himself.

He pulled up Dr. Lenza’s phone and text log. Three calls to her husband and the last text told him she would know in twenty four hours if he needed to get the BBQ Ham going.

If anyone knew anything, she did. She was the one working on it, buried beneath Washington DC trying to save the world. At that second Albert didn’t care about saving the world, he only wanted to save his brother.

It possibly wouldn’t work, but he had to try.

Since communication blocks were lifted he, grabbed his phone, put her number into a message, typed a text and hit send.

It was a simple text to get her attention.

BBQ Ham

Blip

Who is this?

You don’t know me. I know who you are. – Albert wrote. – I need your help.

Please don’t text this number again.

We are a small town in Arizona. NG has us quarantined but they are leaving us to die. We are dying day by day.

I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want.

Help. We need help. Just tell us. Is there anything we can do? Please. Anything we can do to have a fighting chance.

There was a long pause of waiting. A drawn out moment that seemed like an eternity. As if she wasn’t going to respond. Albert had taken a chance reaching out, for all he knew in the few minutes she turned him in and the town would go dark as punishment or worse. He didn’t want to cause trouble, he only wanted to reach out. He couldn’t, with a clear conscience not try when his brother’s life was on the line.

Just when he gave up on hearing back, just when Albert was about to assume all hope was lost, he heard the beep of a reply and saw the simple one word response that renewed him with a invigorated hope for life in the middle of a dying town.

A three letter word that made him want to jump up and scream.

He asked if there was anything they could do.

She replied, “Yes.”

The president was angry and rightfully so. The next day was supposed to be his country’s Independence Day, yet, there he was a slave to the wishes of a volatile virus that threatened man’s existence.

“How is this even possible?” The president moved in a maddening pace. “One man, one man does this? I know we aren’t even sure it was only one man... but still one man played god with a manmade virus and we can’t stop it. In less than a week the infrastructure is failing. Light and power are out everywhere. There is massive looting, shooting and this report …” he flung it to the counter. “Handwritten mind you because our technology has taken a backseat, this report tells me that at the current rate, in two weeks most of our major cities, because of violence and sickness will be ghost towns.”

Nadia didn’t reply at first. She waited and said only what she could at that moment. ‘I’m sorry. But something of this magnitude we knew would take control before we could control it.”

“It’s frustrating.”

“I know. But there is hope. You know it.” Nadia said. “The treatment works in eighty percent of cases. At least in the small areas that we tested it. It throws the virus into some sort of remission.”

“But these people have to be diligent,” the president said. “One dose of three medications and they die.”

“It’s still keeping them alive.” Nadia argued. “If they have to be on medication the rest of their lives, it’s better than dying. Eventually, we will distribute enough and get the word out about the treatment. And eventually, it will be enough to stop the death.”

“But not the spread.”

Sadly, Nadia lowered her head. “Those who are fighting it are still contagious.”

“We need that vaccine.”

“It’s in production. We will have doses next week to distribute. We’ll start with rural areas.”

“How long until everyone gets the vaccine.”

“Months and that’s not a guarantee at this point. It isn’t going to help those exposed or those sick. For that we need a cure and that could be years.”

The president growled in frustration.

“I feel what you are saying,” Nadia said. “I have been away from my family for two weeks. I am fighting, I am trying, I don’t want a single member of my family to die from this thing.”

“Have any of them gotten sick?”

“Yes. My husband told me my son in law is taking the treatment. I suspect it won’t be long before my daughter is ill, too. So I am fighting.”

“My wife … my wife started coughing last night. It’s... it’s not working on her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” The president gathered his papers. “I’m sorry that I came down here and was so hard on you. I just … I lost. I’m not handling that well.”

“Considering that there were thirty of us down here when it started and only ten now … your choices are slim when it comes to venting.”

He smiled at her, a sad smile. “I’ll leave you to you work. Keep me posted.”

“I always do.”

The president began to leave.

“Sir, please know. This virus may be kicking our ass, but as long as we’re fighting, as long as we’re standing. As long as I am alive …” she said. “It’s not over, not yet.”

<><><><>