The Flu 2: Healing Page 2

  “Doesn’t matter,” Mick told him. “We’re eating it. Gonna be polite.”

  “Don’t you think that was an odd thing to ask?” Chris questioned. “You know, about us being yours?”

  Mick tilted his head. “I guess it is.”

  “Man, you have to wonder how many kids there are without parents for her to greet us like that.” After a sigh, Chris took the plate. “Come on, Tig, let’s eat before Mick eats this all. You know how big his stomach is.”

  Mick didn’t say anything. In fact, the plate slipped from his hand without him noticing. He heard what Chris said and then he saw a child, then another. Four or five sat across the campsite; another small group was on the playground area.

  Where were all the adults? Mick spotted maybe two more. They had to be inside.

  No sooner did Mick have that thought when he had another: Oh my God, the children.

  He had never thought beyond the walls of Lodi. It never crossed his mind that there would be countless children left without parents, not just parents who lost a child.

  A ‘snap’ of the fire snapped Mick from his thoughts. However, the thoughts of children alone stayed with him through the course of the day and as he watched his own son, Chris, looking so lost.

  “You okay?” Mick asked.

  “Yeah,” Chris said. “Just thinking.”

  Mick reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his phone that he had charged in the truck and he powered it up. He wasn’t a making a phone call. Cell phones had gone down. He was using it for a fix. A Dylan and Dustin fix.

  There were 875 pictures on his phone and close to a hundred videos. Mick was grateful for each and every one. But he guessed one day, that number would be small. Because to make up for a lifetime lost, 1000 images just would never be enough.

  “What are you doing?” Chris asked as he sat down next to him.

  “I need to see your mom and brother,” Mick said softly.

  Chris’ breath shivered loudly. “Me, too. Can I …can look with you?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  Chris moved closer, right next to him. Mick brought his arm around the boy, bringing him close and huddling in to share the phone.

  Chris rested his head against Mick. “Mick, you think we’ll ever feel normal again?”

  “I think that’s a pretty tough question to answer. I think that time will ease some of the pain. It’ll never be like it used to be. But I think we’ll get used to feeling a hint of pain and then that will become the new normal.”

  After a pause, Chris said, “That wasn’t very helpful.”

  “It’s the best I can do.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  Mick gently kissed the top of Chris’ head and together, slowly, they looked through the pictures.

  * * *

  Arcata, California

  Before Lexi Martin was educated at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, she was educated on the streets of Detroit, Michigan. That alone, she believed, would be the schooling she needed for what was ahead. More so than any other education she had received.

  Her father lost his job at the plant, her mother worked as a waitress and sales clerk, and Lexi dropped out of high school at fifteen to work under the table for the Lees at their dry cleaning business. Eventually she got her GED, went to community college, then a local university, scoring highest in her class before getting accepted into Pitt.

  That was quite an accomplishment.

  While most med students were about the age of 27 when they did their internships, Lexi was already well into her thirties.

  She scored high and did remarkably well. She had all intentions of returning to Detroit, working at a clinic, and giving back to her community. But on a whim, she applied at the Centers for Disease Control, and was surprised when she got the position of field doctor.

  Even five years at the CDC didn’t prepare her for the field of death she faced when the flu brought an end to life as she knew it. She was sent to Anchorage, Alaska, and Anchorage was the first major city in the United States to die out.

  Watching what this particular strain of the flu did make Lexi grateful she’d never taken the time to have children.

  She prayed and hoped that elsewhere it wouldn’t be so bad. The flu started in Alaska. An accident at a lab facility embedded deep in the wilderness would have — should have — been contained, but a local Eskimo barter carried not only the good but also the germ to a neighboring village.

  It had spread through the villages, and continued to spread throughout the population because of two men. One of them beat the flu; the other, Lexi heard he had died.

  One man, Bill Daniels, lost his fiancé and had no other family. When the flu was all said and done in Anchorage, Bill had left with Lexi, being a helping hand in any way he could. News had reached them that the flu was now a worldwide pandemic, and the CDC moved Lexi to California. For one month, she and Bill moved to three different small towns. The last of which, Arcata, held on tight until the first week of October, then most of them died.

  The former population of 18,000 was now maybe … population 1,500. Maybe.

  Most of the people of Arcata were struggling with how they could survive. They were in a good position for fishing, but were still reeling from their losses and not thinking properly.

  Taking in their final California sunset, Lexi shared a package of peanut butter crackers with Bill as they sat on the beach. It was probably the last fresh pack for a very long time.

  “Last radio contact,” Lexi said, “the last two remaining CDC men were heading to Lodi.”

  “You think they did?” Bill asked.

  “If Kurt said they did, they did.” Lexi smiled. “He was a good man to work for at the CDC.”

  Bill reached for the bottle of whiskey they had dug into the sand. “When was it we last heard that broadcast?”

  “Six days ago.” Lexi nodded at Bill’s silent offer to refresh her glass. “I can only assume that the president is still trying. And I think that town he mentioned is Lodi.”

  Bill downed a quick drink and poured another. “We could stay here.”

  “I know,” Lexi said. “And I know the people here may be sad to see us go. But we’ve been ready to go for two weeks. Packed, planned and ready.” She sipped her drink. “More than heading to Lodi, I think I need to see what’s left of this country.”

  Bill choked out a laugh.

  “What?” she questioned.

  “A little post-apocalypse sightseeing?”

  “Well when you put it like that …” Lexi shook her head. “Yeah, I guess. Aren’t you curious?”

  “I’m very curious. Could be dangerous.”

  “I know. But I feel safe with our plan. I feel safe with you.” She stared at him.

  “I appreciate that.” Bill lifted his glass to hers. “Then we go. We’ll leave tomorrow, first thing.”

  Lexi clicked her glass to his, took a drink, then she sank into thoughts of the journey ahead, while watching the rest of the sunset with Bill.

  Journal Entry

  October 16th

  I really don’t know what to write. I’m not feeling any better. We had tuna casserole yesterday; I think that’s what it was. It was good. Mick didn’t really give us a choice, we had to eat it. A lady brought it by.

  Tigger and Mick are still sleeping. I fell asleep for a little bit, but I had another nightmare. I don’t tell anyone, not even Mick, about my nightmares. Maybe because I’m thinking he’s got his own to deal with.

  I dreamt of my brother. I always dream of my brother. Not Tigger, but Dustin. Tigger is young. I don’t think he knows yet what happened. He asks all the time about Mom and Dustin. He nods when we tell him they ain’t coming back, but I don’t think he understands.

  I’m glad about that. The less he knows, the less he will hurt.

  Last night me and Mick looked at pictures of my mom and Dustin and our old life.

  I kept thinking how it was Monday.<
br />
  Monday was me and Dustin’s night. We watched wrestling every Monday. He was my best friend in the whole world. We had big plans and now they’re gone. What am I gonna do? How am I gonna even wanna grow up and do things without my brother?

  It hurts to even think about him. It hurts to think about my mom. She was my hero. I wish I would have told her that.

  I’m scared, cause I know they’re gone and I’m afraid I’ll forget what they look like or sound like. I’m so glad Mick has that phone.

  It’s worth more than all the food and water in the world. I just hope that phone never breaks, never stops working, because in that phone is all I have left of them.

  I know it sounds stupid, but that’s how I feel.

  I just miss them so much. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong what happened.

  We all take it one day at a time. Right now, I just hate the days because I don’t have my brother and mom anymore.

  Just sucks.

  3. Space Between

  The knock on the camper door surprised Mick. He was cleaning up after breakfast, the boys were working on a puzzle. He wanted them to go out, mingle with the other kids, but neither of them showed any interest.

  Ethan stood in the doorway when Mick opened it. “Sorry, to bother you,” he said.

  “No. No bother. Did you want to come in?”

  Ethan lifted his hand waving it back and forth. “There are two reasons, I came by. One … later this afternoon, I wanna gather up some of the kids and take them fishing. We try to hit the lake every couple days. Catching is good. Wanted to invite you and your boys.”

  “We’ll be happy to join you.”

  “Great. A-and the o-other thing is …” Ethan stammered some, almost nervous about approaching Mick, “I don’t have many men in this camp. I realize you aren’t staying, but Liam’s back is bothering him and I was wondering if I can pull you away to help me check out Rosemont.”

  “I’m sorry, Rosemont?”

  “Small town about twenty miles west of here. They finished their flu less than a week ago. Heard it was a long, dragged out thing there. Thought they beat it, didn’t, it came back sort of thing.”

  Mick twitched his head. “I’m confused.”

  “Small towns got hit last, you know.”

  “I’m well aware,” Mick said.

  “I been hitting them. Can’t get into the cities, which saddens me.”

  “Ethan, I understand that. Are you going to the town for supplies?”

  “No … for kids. A lot of kids are left alone. We been bringing them here until we can figure out what to do with them.”

  Mick heard a shuffle behind him and looked back; Chris had stood up. Obviously it caught the young boy’s attention.

  Ethan continued. “I suppose in while it will be futile, but I wanna try. At least I can say I tried. I’d go alone, but I just want back up in case there is trouble. Haven’t seen trouble in a while, thank God.”

  Mick lowered his head. “I … I can’t leave my boys, I’m sorry.”

  “Mick,” Chris exclaimed, “you have to go. I’ll watch Tigger. I’m grown enough.”

  “And my mom is right nearby,” Ethan said. “I know you don’t have reason to trust us, but it’s safe here. I promise. We won’t be gone more than two hours.”

  Mick opened his mouth to talk and Chris interrupted. “And you don’t have reason not to trust him either, Mick.”

  Open mouthed, Mick turned to him. “I can’t leave you boys and I don’t want to take you.”

  “I said I can watch Tigger,” Chris huffed. “You have to, Mick.”

  “Why are you so insistent about this, Chris?”

  “Because, what if there are kids in this Rose town? Which, by the way, has the same name as your mom. It’s a sign, Mick. And wouldn’t you want someone to come get me and Tig, if we were all alone in this world?”

  Ethan pointed. “That’s a bright, caring kid there.”

  “Yeah, yeah, he is.” Mick nodded. “I’ll grab my coat, be right with you.”

  “Thank you. I’ll let my mother know to keep an ear out.”

  Mick shut the door. “You put me on the spot,” he told Chris.

  “Yeah, well, I can’t believe you don’t want to go.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to go ….”

  “You’re afraid, huh?” Chris asked. “It’s okay to be afraid.”

  Mick closed his eyes. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Nothing. It was me not wanting to leave you, but that’s settled. Let me find my jacket and gun.” Mick slipped by Chris. But he wasn’t honest, he was afraid. Not of anything bad or possible trouble, but more so of what he’d find. It had been a while since the flu. If a child survived the flu, what were the chances that they survived … life? Mick wasn’t quite sure he could take seeing anymore bad.

  * * *

  Tom watched the third truck pull down the main street of Lodi. He’d been going since sunrise, making plans for survival runs, getting food and supplies, then determining a distribution center. Lodi had acquired a few more residents in the last couple days. Tom worried. He didn’t want to take on any leadership position, but with Mick gone and not really stepping up to the organization plate, Tom figured someone had to so it. The two guys from the CDC were more concerned about the national level.

  Tom worried about Lodi. That was it. What happened outside of it, well, that wasn’t his concern.

  He made a notation on his clipboard and turned around, surprised to see Lars Rayburn standing there.

  “You’re up early,” Tom said. “Aren’t you the noon riser?”

  “I used to be before this ordeal,” Lars said. “But this morning, I went out with Will and guess what?”

  “I’m game, what?”

  “Looks pretty steady on the power and landlines. Nothing giving way.”

  “Now, if we can just get word out to others on how to get things up and running,” Tom said. “Maybe we should think about sending Will and someone else out there to help.”

  “That’s possible. But is it safe?” Lars asked. “Have we heard anything?”

  Tom shook his head. “When all this started going down, there was some trouble. Since then, haven’t heard much. Wish there was a way to get in touch with Mick. Hopefully he’ll bring back some insight. But to be honest, Lars, my concern isn’t going out for food now. There’s plenty out there, lying around. But for how long? There were no crops this year, everyone got sick. It’s time to start planning long term,” Tom said. “And to be honest, I’m not knowing where to begin.”

  * * *

  The town of Rosemont wasn’t all that different from Lodi. It was set off a highway, nestled back off the back roads. There wasn’t a town square, just businesses.

  “How do you propose finding these kids?” Mick asked Ethan.

  “Like I do in every town. First I ask, then I drive the residential streets. Looking for signs. The flu hit in the summer, so I look for bikes, toys, swing sets, stuff like that. Then I listen. You get real quiet and you listen. With no sounds of life, it’s easy to hear a crying kid.”

  “How many have you found?”

  Ethan exhaled. “Nineteen so far. We placed almost half of them.”

  “Placed?”

  “Yeah, folks that pass through like you. Lost their own kids, they take a liking and take on an orphan. Me and my mother use good judgment. Don’t think we’re just sending them out to bad people.”

  “No, no, I wasn’t thinking that.” Mick indicated with his head then pointed. “There’s a man up there.”

  The man on the street was packing his car. He looked over at the truck as Ethan slowed down.

  Ethan wound down his window. “Morning, sir.”

  “We don’t have anything. The town is wiped out,” the man said. “If that’s what you’re looking for.”

  Ethan shook his head. “No. I’ve been hitting a lot of small towns. Looking for kids that may be l
eft alone after their parents died.”

  “Noble cause,” the man replied. “Why?”

  “Ever since two were left orphaned at our camp,” Ethan said, “I wondered how many others were out there.”

  “Well …” the man shrugged, “most of this town died from the flu. We thought, you know, we had it beat. We had a small outbreak and then about ten days ago, it just wiped us out. Returned with a vengeance. We lost our last person about four days ago.”

  Mick understood that, and his head lowered.

  “I think I’m the last of the people here. Maybe the Morgans, but I’m not sure. They’re over on Carson Street, four blocks down and to your left. They may know more, but I’m really not sure about any kids. I’m alone.”

  Mick leaned forward. “Sir, I’m from a town called Lodi. Lodi, Ohio.”

  “Lodi,” he said airily. “I heard about that town on the news. It was flu free.”

  “Not entirely,” Mick said. “We suffered a lot of deaths. But the town is still functioning. Maybe you should head there.”

  “Maybe I will. Good luck with your search.”

  Ethan nodded a thank you and drove on looking for Carson Street. The population sign read 1600, so they knew the town wasn’t all that big, but it was definitely deserted. The businesses hadn’t been boarded up, yet the doors were open.

  Out in front of the small volunteer fire station a tent was erected. Possibly a help station at one time. But that man by the truck was the only person they saw.

  Carson Street proved futile, as there was no one there. It was barren and Mick and Ethan even called out. They’d walk, call out, listen and walk.

  From the map, Mick saw there were about six patches of residential areas. He understood Ethan’s plight and reasoning, but didn’t see how he was going to find anyone in a town such as Rosemont. Really, it was a small town. Would there be children left alone?

  The third patch of residential homes was a small mobile home area set just down a small hill from a day care center. They pulled the truck down and began their search.