Prepper's Sacrifice (3 page)

Again, her heart melted, and she positioned herself to peer into his eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that Stewart loved her, but recently, he hadn’t been his usual affectionate self, and she knew that as soon as another report came on the news, she’d lose her husband to the TV reporter—and not because he/she was hotter than her. She grabbed the moment by the horns and treated her husband to something that they both thoroughly missed.

Anne closed her eyes and assumed her regular sleeping position with her head against her husband’s chest. She felt Stewart wiggle around beneath her and heard him tapping away at his phone. She knew there was nothing new on the virus because just within a minute of plucking the phone from the bedside table, Stewart set it back down.

***

The following morning, Stewart grabbed his list from the coffee table and called for his wife to accompany him to the grocery store. A minute later, she joined him with a list of her own in her hand. She left the ‘checking of the supplies’ to Stewart and created a list of her own that was more about enjoyment. If it weren’t for her, their home would be filled with cans of things that had no means of sparking their taste buds—except, of course, a couple cases of scotch that Stewart ensured never ran low.

‘You wanna hear what’s on my list this time?’ She smiled.

‘Go for it,’ Stewart replied.

‘Well, I’ve got three cases of Snickers, with a bunch of coupons to make them close to free, and I’ve got Skittles and those cereal bars that will make me as fat as a house. Oh and the regular soda, chips, salsa, cookies, cigarettes and tobacco.’

‘Cigarettes and tobacco?’ Stewart let out a boisterous laugh. ‘Have I managed to stress you out that much that you’re turning to cancer as an escape?’

‘No, silly. I bought this ebook online about items that preppers can barter, and you’ve got to have ciggies in there.’

‘Why would we need to barter? Our house is stocked with more things than you’ll find at Walmart.’

‘Well, better prepared than sorry, right?’

‘Better prepared than sorry.’ His face filled with pride. He knew that his wife was taking to their prepper lifestyle, but he didn’t realize that she was as invested as this.

In the grocery store, they got all the things on their list, including a few odd ball items. Anne threw in a couple of other things she had read about in the barter ebook and decided that they had enough space in their home for diapers, wet wipes, baby food, some cheap reading glasses and a couple of Sudoku books. Though she knew that the likelihood that Stewart would let people in their home to trade items was rather low, she felt as though buying some of those items for a worst case scenario couldn’t hurt.

***

On the way home, Stewart flicked on the radio.

‘
It’s Elisa and Derrick here with the four o’clock news. The CDC have confirmed that all three Ebola patients who were being held at the Fort Lauderdale International Hospital have succumbed to the Ebola virus. Comments, however, have not been made on when these patients lost their lives, though it is believed that the first victim past away as early as last week Friday. The CDC is urging anyone who believes that they might be infected with the virus to contact the appropriate authorities. Keep in mind, the symptoms for Ebola in its early stages are fever, muscle pain, vomiting, diarrhea, and headaches. If anyone you know exhibits these symptoms, refrain from handling their bodily fluids as doing so will put you at risk of contracting the disease. This, of course, does not mean that there’s a cause for panic, but it’s important that we all know just what to look out for. Stay safe, Fort Lauderdale. Now, onto the weather with….’

Anne reached forward and clicked the Off button on the radio. ‘Damn it, Stewy. It’s really serious, isn’t it?’

‘Yup,’ he replied, trying hard to hold back his panic. ‘But we’re good. We’ll be alright. Like you said, it’s only a few people in a big, big city.’

‘But can you believe that they had them here? Across the street from us, pretty much.’

‘Anne, let’s not start worrying now.’ He patted his wife on the shoulder, a gesture that she seemed to appreciate.

Little did she know that there was a whole bunch of brewing going on in her husband’s head. However, he needed to focus on driving. He needed to shut it all out before he was allowed to give his two cents. He didn’t want his wife to panic;
he
was the one who was supposed to be doing all the panicking.

The logical part of Stewart went over the facts. He told Anne of how hard the virus was to transmit, though he didn’t believe half of what he was saying. He told her of how it was unlikely that these people had contracted Ebola within the United States. He said whatever was necessary to keep her calm.

Panic was weakness and he knew that in the face of an outbreak, his wife would be the stronger one. He needed to keep her that way.

Chapter 3

Two months later

On a deserted street, Stewart was being chased by an elderly man with a blood-stained beard.

‘I haven’t got what you’re looking for. I’m not one of them,’ Stewart panted, having ran for what felt like miles.

The man didn’t speak; he just kept walking, faster and faster, backing Stewart into a corner alley that he wouldn’t be able to get out of.

‘Please sir, please,' Stewart pleaded, 'don’t do this to me. I don’t want to get sick. Please don’t. I haven’t got the cure. I’m just a simple man. An insurance broker.’

Just as the man reached out his blood covered hands, Stewart jerked forward.

‘Huh?’ he said, confused. He was no longer backed into a vomit-stained wall in an alley he didn’t recognize. Instead, he was at home, in his bed. Safe.

Two months had gone by and Ebola had become a problem that not only Stewart was aware of. With hundreds of cases in Florida and more than he wanted to think about in the entire United States, Stewart felt as though no place was safe. He’d stopped going to work a month ago, calling in sick day after day. However, he knew that it wouldn’t be too long before his boss called bullshit on his excuses. Granted, Stewart would have no proof that he was ‘sick’ because unlike the regular faker who would go to the doctor’s for a note, Stewart wouldn’t dare to set foot in a place that was intended for the sick.

His wife, on the other hand, went to work as usual. Each time before leaving the house, she’d remind Stewart of how silly he was acting. Stewart was fully aware of the fact that she didn’t agree with him cutting himself off from the outside world. She’d even threatened to call the cable company and disconnect their television and internet.

Each moment that Anne was at work, Stewart's panic worsened. Though he knew that his wife would be exceptionally careful, he couldn’t help the fear that something bad would happen. In fact, the only thoughts he'd had recently were grim ones. His dreams made him sweat with fear and he couldn’t fight the feeling that things weren’t going to start looking up anytime soon. To keep his mind occupied, he decided to turn the last empty bedroom in their home into a quarantine room. This was more for Anne than it was for him. He knew that if anyone close to them got sick, Anne wouldn't turn them away. Instead of having to battle with her about leaving this person outside, he decided that the best way would be to have a room designed for them, thus eliminating the need to contaminate their entire home.

With a sanitizing station, a bed fitted with plastic wrapping, lots of water and food as well as gloves and other necessary equipment in place, Stewart felt accomplished. His next course of action was to bring the ladder from the basement up to the quarantine room. This would be necessary as the quarantine room was on the second level of their home and anyone entering would need to do so through the window. He put the ladder in place, leaning it beside the window, before settling down on the floor to catch his breath.

‘Stewy...Stewy…’ came Anne’s voice.

He hurried to his feet, knowing that what waited for him was another yelling match about why he needed to go to work and how his boss was surely going to fire him.

‘Why don’t you just quit already? Just quit already, will you?’ Anne had repeated what felt like a thousand times, in their previous conversation. Though he knew she had a point, he was holding on to the hope that a cure would be found and his fears of leaving the house would be eradicated. Stewart wasn’t up for it. He was sick and tired of fighting with his wife, but each time that he considered leaving his home, he could just
feel
the deadly virus seeping into his skin. In fact a part of him shuddered when he thought about caressing his wife when she came home. He thought about the hands she had shaken, the door handles she had touched, and the countless people who came way too close to her. However, there was no turning a cold shoulder to his wife. He knew that she was being careful. He’d managed to hop out to her car once when she was asleep to see that she was, indeed, making good use of the box of hand sanitizers he had so smartly positioned in her trunk. From a box of twenty travel size hand sanitizers, Anne had gone through eight in a little over a week.

‘I’m coming, Anne… I’ll be there in a minute,’ he said, hopping up from the corner of the room and pretty much sprinting his way down to the first level of their home.

His wife looked distraught. There must have been something else bothering her. Stewart knew that his new introverted lifestyle was taking a toll on her, but this was definitely something else.

‘Oh my god, you’re not sick, are you?’ he said, holding her at arm’s length.

‘No Stewy, I’m fine. I’m really fine, but do you remember Erica?’

‘Erica… Erica...’ Stewart searched his memory for an Erica. The only person who came to mind was the intern from his office. He didn’t think Anne would be so worked up about a girl from his workplace, so he was certain it couldn’t be her. ‘No, I don’t think I know an Erica.’

‘Redhead, big boobs, works in the office down the hall from me.’

‘Big boobs… not many girls in your office with big boobs…’ Stewart tried to joke, but Anne wasn’t having it.

‘Damn it Stewy, I’m trying to tell you something here. The girl who everyone thought was having an affair with my boss.’

‘Ah, yes. Of course. Now I know who you’re talking about. What’s wrong with Erica?’

‘She’s sick. Someone said she left work with a high fever and everyone was thinking that she might have
it
.’ Anne’s face turned pale.  

‘It?’

‘Ebola! Damn it, Stewart. The only thing you’re obsessed with, and you can’t put two and two together?’

It wasn't that Stewart had no idea what she was talking about. However, seeing his wife in this state definitely made him concerned. As a result, it became difficult for him to quickly process the information she was feeding to him.

‘Oh shit. No way. Did you touch her? Was she in your office?’ His eyes widened with panic.

‘She doesn’t have it!’ Anne exclaimed, though she didn't seem relieved by the fact.

‘What?’

‘She doesn’t have it.’

‘So what’s all the panicking about? Why would you come home acting as though you just found out that your entire office was at risk?’

If it hadn’t been for that hopeless look on his wife’s face, Stewart might have raised his voice. She instilled a new level of fear in him without even knowing it and all for nothing, it seemed.

‘Because I finally understand. I mean, she’s only got the flu, but for the hours that everyone was wandering around guessing who came in contact with her and who didn’t, I
understood.
I totally get what you’re saying and I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you at all for staying at home. I mean, if it
was
Ebola, what on earth would I do? I couldn’t come home to you, knowing that I’d put you at risk.’

‘You
would
come home,’ he emphasized. 'You contracting it wouldn’t put me at risk, not until you’re showing symptoms, at least. And plus, I’ve got our new quarantine room ready and you can bet that I’d nurse your right back to good health.’

‘You’re trying to tell me that you’re better than all those doctors in the hospital that couldn’t nurse anyone back from Ebola?’

‘You know, Anne, just the way that you could make the most horrible meal taste good because you put enough love into it, I could make you better because I’d put enough love into it.’

***

Stewart reached over and pulled Anne in for a hug. She squeezed tightly as her husband showed her the affection she very much needed. No matter how chaotic the world outside was, Stewart definitely knew how to make her feel safe- regardless of being the center of panic himself.  A part of her wished he could internalize the things that he said to her, believe them enough to snap out of his fears. But she knew that it wasn’t possible. She knew that comforting her was easier than comforting himself or allowing her to comfort him.

Though she had calmed down a bit, she was in no way over the fear that she had shot into her by her coworker being thought to be ill. She knew that from now on, it was worth being a little more cautious and considered staying home for a few days, at the very least. After all, she didn’t only have herself and her safety to think about. She needed to ensure that she wouldn’t be the one to put her husband at risk.

Stewart pulled his wife away from her thoughts. 'Would you like to take a look at the room?’

‘Absolutely,’ she said, and they both went up to the room to take a look.

‘Look, I’ve even put a TV in here, so that whoever’s in the room won’t be bored to death.’

Stewart flicked on the television and then froze. Anne’s mouth widened with surprise as she saw the words roll across the bottom of the television screen.