The Flu 2: Healing Page 10

* * *

  Las Vegas, NV

  Lexi returned from making one last round with her pneumonia patients. She washed up, changed, poured a drink, and shut the curtain in the hotel room. Not that it mattered much. It was dark outside and no other buildings were powered up. It was an eerie yet beautiful sight. She had always wanted to see Las Vegas; she just never thought that when she did it would be a dead city.

  She wore a long tee shirt over a pair of shorts. The room was warm, though the air conditioning did help some. After sipping on her wine, she put the glass on the nightstand, propped her pillows and sat on the bed. She pulled only the sheet over her as she bought her legs up toward her.

  Bill groaned in grogginess as he rolled over. He reached up and ran his hand down her leg. “Why don’t you try to sleep? It’s been a long day and tomorrow is another one.”

  “I know,” she said softly.

  “How are they?”

  Her head bobbed from left to right. “Same. But I think I’ll do better with intravenous antibiotics.”

  “That’s what I thought. The hospital won’t be easy. It may not be easy at all finding what you need.”

  Lexi nodded.

  “You okay?” Bill asked.

  She winced. “My stomach is bothering me some. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that steak.”

  “You didn’t eat much.”

  “It’s still red meat my body hasn’t digested in while. I’ll be fine,” she said. “Go back to sleep. I wanna …” She reached to the nightstand and not only grabbed her wine, she lifted her phone. “I wanna check.”

  Bill slowly shook his head with closed eyes. “I can’t believe you kept that.”

  “You never know. And did we know?” She lifted it. “Signal here in Vegas.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  “I know. But it’s something to do until my stomach settles and I get sleepy.”

  “Okay. Goodnight. Wake me if you need me.”

  “I will.” Lexi leaned down and gently kissed the top of his head.

  Bill rolled over.

  She stared at him for a second. They had become close. They weren’t lovers. She supposed in time they would be. But for the time being they were close, companions, best friends. They were together. She loved him and couldn’t imagine life, especially the one at hand, without him.

  After a moment, she returned to her phone. It was stupid, she knew it, and possibly a waste of time. But really, what would it hurt?

  Following another sip, she set down her wine, and stared at her phone. She opened up her ‘contact’ folder. Over three hundred contacts. Did she even know three hundred people?

  Lexi had a plan.

  She started with the letter ‘A’, and the first person there. She chose, ‘send message’ and typed. ‘This is Lexi Martin. It’s October 16th. I am alive. I hope you are too.’

  Send.

  Next.

  It wasn’t much of a message, but one she would copy and send to every single person in her phone.

  Twenty percent of the population was said to have survived the flu.

  She didn’t expect twenty percent of her contact list to get back to her, but she could hope that maybe one would reply. That’s all she could do. Out of hopefulness, she spent the next two hours sending out messages.

  Journal Entry

  I’m ready to sleep. It was a horrible day. We ran around the woods in circles and by the time we finally found the main road it started to get dark.

  At least we found the main road.

  We didn’t see any cars or didn’t come across any of those men who hit our camp. I’m glad.

  We also haven’t seen Mick. I keep looking over my shoulder, cause I keep thinking he’s gonna be there. He has to be. It’s Mick. He has to be okay.

  According to the map, there’s a town not far from here. If we get there, then I think I will know which way to go. Maybe someone there can help or give us a ride back to Lodi.

  Jake thinks we should wait for Mick there. That if Mick is following us, he’ll find us.

  That might not be a bad idea.

  But I’ll leave another clue here, that we were here. Something to let Mick know which way we went.

  For now, we’re all tired. I can barely see to write. Tigger is asleep on my lap and Emmie took the blanket. She fell asleep on the way and we had to take turns carrying her.

  We found a convenience store. There’s nothing left in here, so I figured since it already was hit, it was safe.

  I also think it’s safe at night. Too dark for anyone to come out.

  We have enough food. As soon as it gets light, I’ll feed the kids and we’ll get going.

  I have to say I’m scared. I’m afraid I can’t protect the babies if something goes wrong. I hope we find help soon. Or better yet, please let Mick find us.

  10. Breakthrough

  October 17th

  At first light Mick was up and out looking for that trail of footprints by the lake. He followed to the edge, and watched as they veered off. He was hopeful until he realized that the kids were walking in circles. They had lost their direction, then after the tracks went back and forth in the same area, they started a steady course. When they hit the road, Mick knew they had lost a lot of time.

  For sure he’d catch up, and he was certain of the direction because the Denny Dynamite tracks weaved a path of mud prints for a long time on that road.

  After walking a half an hour, no cars passing him at all, Mick spotted a convenience store. The door was open and he trotted to it, calling out, “Chris! Tigger!”

  There was no answer and Mick stepped inside.

  The shelves were empty. Completely empty. Someone had come through and cleaned it out completely. He visually searched for clues, and when he heard the ‘squeak’ of a rodent, Mick spun around. On the bare second shelf, right above the sign for bread, a huge bold rat held a snap snack in its grip and nibbled on it.

  By its feet were two more. Chris had left them on the shelf; surely he had to, he wouldn’t have just dropped them there. The kids had been there at one point. Probably spent the night. Next to the rat, by the snap snacks, was an arrow written in the dust. It pointed to a word. Problem was, the rat’s tail had erased a good bit of it.

  “Are you kidding me? You got to be kidding me” Mick said out loud and reached out to smack the rat away.

  The brave rodent wasn’t giving in, but he did budge. Mick was able to make out the first letter, ‘T’ and a bit of the last letter. Using his best ‘Hang Man’ sense, he hoped Chris spelled out the word, ‘Town’.

  Arrow, word, it told Mick, hopefully they were heading straight ahead. He left the store and picked up the pace. Wearing down some, getting winded, Mick saw the first sign not ten minutes into this journey.

  There was a town ahead, and it was only one mile away. It wasn’t all that far - they had to be there. They had to be. The kids were walking, how far could they have gotten?

  * * *

  “Thanks, mister, for the ride, we appreciate it,” Chris told the older man as they stood outside a small compact car.

  The man emptied another huge canister of gas into the tank. “I’m not feeling right about doing this. You guys are so young.”

  “Yeah, but we’re good, right?” Chris said. “We don’t have but a few hours left of driving, ain’t that what you said?”

  “I know what I said, but you have two babies with you.” He gestured to Tigger and Emmie, both the same size.

  “I’m not a baby,” Tigger claimed.

  “Nah, he’s just pint size,” Chris added.

  “Maybe you guys can travel with me a little further,” he suggested. “We can find help, a radio, something.”

  “We can do this, mister, I’m certain.” Chris said. “Heck, we trotted through the woods and ran for our lives.”

  The man stared at them.

  Chris liked him. He thought immediately that the man had an honest face. He was the only one in the town when
they got there, and the man was just pulling in as well. He had come in from another street. He was on his way to Maine to find his daughter and granddaughter. Last he’d spoken to them, they were alive and well.

  He, like Chris, was surprised that no one was in the town. It looked as if everyone had just disappeared. Maybe they all went somewhere. Chris quickly learned they had. In the center of town, across from the really cool looking eyeglass place, was a memorial wall.

  A brass soldier was the symbol and next to him was a flag, but the memorial wasn’t what caught Chris’ attention. It was the abundance of notes, messages, pictures of people. They covered the wall like wallpaper:

  Have you seen her?

  Mom, I went north.

  Bill and Lacy Jones are in Damon, NY.

  * * *

  Survivors of the flu had plastered their whereabouts on the wall for anyone who might be looking for them.

  The gas station in Cambridge was untouched. In fact, it had a ‘help yourself’ feel about it. Power was still on and the man filled his tank, then took cans from the store and filled them with gas. He drove with Chris, Jake and the kids until they hit the next town near the highway.

  That town wasn’t empty. There were people there, but they seemed like drones, not even realizing that a car had pulled in.

  One woman did talk to them, and explained that those remaining in the town — and it wasn’t many — were packing to leave and join a town of other survivors up north. Rumor had it that civilization was back in business in New York.

  She offered to take Chris and the kids there, but Chris declined. They had to get home.

  That was Chris’ main goal. He was certain that he’d make it home, he even tore a sheet of paper from his notebook and put it on the memorial wall in Cambridge. Triple outlined his letters that said, ‘Mick Owens, we are fine and on our way home!’

  The man, his name was George, found a small car in the new town. It would do well on gas and hopefully be easy to drive, as he explained the basics to Chris.

  “I’m leery,” George told him. “Really, I am.”

  “No, really, we can do this.” Chris was optimistic.

  “Okay, remember what I told you. Not many cars if any on the road. Stay a steady speed, stay on the right, stay diligent and keep your eyes on the road.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Buckle up.”

  Chris did so.

  “Don’t go too fast. Don’t forget to put the car in gear if you stop. You know how to go and brake, right?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “Stay on this road and in a few miles, you’ll see the signs for Interstate 90. Take that west and it will take you right to Cleveland. Can’t say if you’ll run into roadblocks, but follow that map. I marked it for you.”

  “We got this, thank you.”

  “This is my telephone number. Should the cell lines go back up, will you call me and let me know you made it safely?”

  Chris took the paper. “Absolutely.”

  “My daughter is going to kick my ass for doing this.”

  George buckled Tigger and Emmie in the back of the small car, told them to be still and be good, then waited until Chris and Jake got in.

  “Thanks, again, mister.” Chris said. “We owe you.”

  “Repayment is being safe. Godspeed.”

  “You said not to speed,” Chris said. “I’m going slow.”

  “I mean …. Godspeed means be careful.”

  “Got it.” Chris shut the car door and fixed his seatbelt. George helped him adjust the seat. He was certain he would be able to see over the steering wheel. After all he was as tall as his mother and she drove all the time.

  He practiced like George suggested, touching the pedals. Right was gas, left was brake.

  He turned over the ignition. It didn’t sound like he did it right. So he tried again.

  Grind.

  George tapped the window and Chris wound it down. “What the heck was that sound? Is the car broke?”

  “No, you restarted it. The car was already started. Look for light right there.” George pointed to the dash. “That’ll tell you it’s on. Foot on the brake as you move it in gear.”

  Chris pushed down and shifted the car. His stomach twitched, he was nervous, really nervous but confident, and he would be super careful.

  “Ease off the brake.”

  The car inched.

  “We’re moving.”

  “Good luck.” George backed up.

  At first, the car jerked when Chris hit the gas. It was touchy, but he got the feel of it pretty fast.

  Jake had been looking out the back window. “He’s in the distance now, still waving.”

  “Nice guy.”

  “Whew.” Jake heaved out a breath. “You’re rolling. I think you’re going too fast.”

  Chris looked at the speedometer. “Says I’m going thirty.”

  “Maybe you ought to slow down. Just don’t hit the gas all the time.”

  “Good idea,” Chris said.

  “You scared?” Jake asked.

  “I am!” Tigger yelled from the back.

  “Tig, shush, I got this.”

  “The baby peed her pants again,” Tigger complained.

  “So did you, and we ain’t calling you out, are we?” Chris shook his head. “Kids.”

  Jake aimed his voice to the back seat. “Just sit still. We’ll be in Ohio shortly.” He looked at Chris. “We will, right?”

  “Negative Nelly. That’s what my pap would call you. Of course we will. Really. George said we’ll have enough gas and will only have to use the little in the trunk.” He shivered.

  “And you’re sure you can drive?”

  “I’m doing it now, aren’t I? Besides, I drove go carts all the time. And I don’t think they’ll be any wide fast bends with barrels in the middle of the road like on the go cart course. Might actually be easier. Just stay the course, stay on the road. Make it home.” Chris smiled. “Piece of cake.”

  * * *

  Lodi, Ohio

  It wasn’t what Lars expected to see when he walked into room 19 of the Lodi Hospital.

  Betty Ann, the woman who had been the school nurse at the elementary school, and now was the only nurse at the hospital, told Lars that Baby Doe was doing remarkably. All levels were up, he’d eaten, and Henry had removed the intravenous drip before he left for the night shift.

  It seemed a rather quick recovery, Lars thought, for a child so close to death, though stranger things had happened.

  He wanted to see the child for himself and headed for his room. He didn’t expect to hear Tom’s voice, but heard him speaking soothingly and softly, and when Lars walked into the room he received the third surprise of the day. Tom was cuddling Doe, reading to him while the child nestled in his arms.

  “Well, doesn’t he look well, this morning?” Lars commented, reaching his hand out to the boy.

  “He does,” Tom replied. “You know, I came in here to check on him seeing how he is this prize possession of my son in law, and wouldn’t you know it, the boy looked at me and held out his arms as if he has known me his entire life.”

  “That’s amazing, Tom.”

  “Yeah, and he clung, Lars, he just reached his little arms to me and held on. Well, I couldn’t put him down, I just couldn’t.”

  “How long have you been here, Tom?” Lars asked.

  “’Bout an hour, maybe more. Not sure.” Tom hitched a breath. “I’m so damn worried about my grandkids, this was a shot of life I needed. I just started reading and he cuddled more. Look at him. When Dust … when Dustin was this age we spent hours like this.” Tom cleared his throat.

  “I remember.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, Lars, I think I’d like to take this little one with me when he’s ready to leave the hospital. I’ll look after him until Mick decides what to do with him. I can take him with me everywhere. I’ll make sure he eats and drinks.”

  “I think that’s a
great idea.”

  At a single knock on the archway, Ethan stepped into the room. “Hey, guys I just …” He trailed off and stared. “Wow, Doe looks great. I can’t believe that’s the same boy. Wait until Mick sees him.”

  “Amazing what a little watering will do,” Lars said. “What’s up?”

  “Check this out,” Ethan said. “Cell phones are back.”

  * * *

  Rose was ready and on it.

  She was packed and prepped to leave, but as she promised Tom, she’d wait to see if she got a hold of Mick when the phones went up.

  Just about out of patience and ready to jump on her bike and go on a wild goose chase, Rose got word and then she looked at her phone.

  She decided to give herself one hour to reach Mick and then she’d take off.

  On her front porch, phone in hand, Rose dialed Mick. It went immediately to voice mail; she didn’t leave a message. She hung up and tried again. She would do that continuously for one hour. After that, she’d try to reach Mick from the road.

  * * *

  Cambridge, PA

  Mick dropped to his knees in defeat the second he stepped into Cambridge. It was a ghost town and he knew the boys weren’t there. Where had he gone wrong? Where had he failed? The entire last leg of his journey was filled with hope of finding the boys. He thought of when they were born, all the Little League games, the times he’d stand up for them when they were in trouble and all the times he took the boys for overnights when Dylan was at the end of her rope.

  Not that the boys didn’t drive him nuts. They did. Tigger in his tiny tot body was years beyond his age in intelligence. He was sarcastic and funny and had more love and joy in his small body than a state full of people. Chris was always the antagonist, going against what Mick said, questioning him every step of the way. And Dustin … Dustin was the voice of reason, yelling at his little brother for questioning Mick, then turning right around and doing it himself.