Another mental note.
They pulled in front of a Breast Care medical office with an old ‘Flu Aid Center’ sign still posted on the front. At the door, Lars paused. “Is she here?”
“Inside, yes,” Ace said, and opened the door.
“Do you have any children here that you have found?”
Ace shook his head.
“Let’s try this again. There is a woman in my town who says that a band of men, not far from here, shot her and took children from her camp. Do… you… have children here?”
“I’ll check on that.”
“Once you do, I would like to see them.” Lars walked in the door. As soon as he did, he saw Rose on an examining bed sitting in the middle of what once was a lobby of the building. He rushed toward her, setting down his bag next to her.
“Rose.”
She managed a gasp. “Lars! Lars, what are you doing here? I told you not to come!”
“And when do I listen to anyone?” He gripped her hand and turned his head to Ace. “She’s not going anywhere and neither am I. Can we have privacy please? I’d like to examine her.”
Ace gave them a disgruntled look, but he complied and left the room.
Rose leaned her head forward. “You should have stayed back, Lars. It’s bad here. These men aren’t good.”
“I kind of figured that.” He stood upright. “My goodness, Rose. What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?” He pulled down the sheet and looked at the seeping bandages. “Who did the bandages?”
“I did, and a young girl named Lola.”
“They’re still seeping.”
“It’s bad.”
“Oh, you’re probably exaggerating. I know you.” He slowly removed the bandage from her side and drew a sharp breath. The wound was still open and he could clearly see the broken rib as it partially protruded. It seeped a yellowish pus and around it, her whole body was black from retained blood and bruising. He tried, with everything he had he tried not to show a facial reaction, but Lars failed.
“Lars?”
“I’m not gonna lie to you, Rose, this… this is bad.” Lars had known Rose for many years. He knew her as a tough woman who could handle anything. It was apparent she was handling her injuries valiantly. What threw Lars for a loop was when Rose nodded and then began to sob.
“Rose?” Lars dropped to one knee to be close to her, face to face. He grabbed her hand again.
“I’m never gonna see my son again. I’m never gonna see my grandbabies am I?”
“Rose…”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, nothing scares me more than never seeing them again.”
“That’s not gonna happen, Rose.” Lars stood up straight. “That’s why I came. If I have anything to do with it, you’ll be driving us all crazy again in Lodi, including teaching them boys to have the same foul mouth.”
“You said it was bad…”
“It is. But hey, I’m Lars Rayburn. I can fix this.”
“Do not tell anyone I was crying. I swear to God, if you get me better and tell people, I’ll fucking kill you.” She wiped her eyes.
“Never. Well,” Lars tilted his head, “I’ll hold it over your head and use it as blackmail.” He squeezed her hand firmly and spoke with seriousness. “We’ll get through this, Rose. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving until you are well enough to fight your way out of this door. And you will be, you will.”
Rose sniffed and nodded and Lars released her hand.
It was the best front Lars had ever put on in his life. He portrayed optimistic and arrogant, when Lars actually was worried and insecure about it. Her rib was so far out of place he was certain she had a punctured lung and possibly other internal injuries. Not to mention it was infected, and Rose was more than likely septic.
But Lars wasn’t a quitter, he had battled worse, that was for sure.
He wasn’t giving up. He couldn’t.
Glenn Grove, CA
Sixteen miles before his destination, Bill spotted the first body on the road. Another mile further, there were three more. They had apparently set up camp off the side of the road. It looked to Bill as if they’d pulled over because they were ill. All three were dead, their bodies decimated by disease and decomposition.
He found their target site with relative ease. It was like following a trial. Carcasses of animals, birds and several human beings paved a pathway. Unfortunately, the laboratory was located only a few miles east of a small town.
Anyone that had survived the flu in that small town didn’t survive the breach.
It was absolutely, without a doubt, a hot zone. Bill found it difficult to maneuver in the suit, worse than the one he wore when he battled the flu. Even though he never needed to wear one, it made others feel as if they were protected – from him.
Several times he had to stop and check to see if he had torn his suit. He hadn’t, but his delays ate up time. Perhaps he was just being neurotic, but it was better to be neurotic and safe than complacent and dead.
With time running out on their tanks, Bill and the other man set the C-4 explosives in the lab. They burned out what remained in the lab, the containers, the holding units and everything else, but what had already escaped into the air was too far beyond them.
It was the best they could do. They stayed until their tanks neared empty to make sure there was no flash fire that could get out of control, and then they left the town.
Damon, NY
“Jake is going to be just fine, it’s just a stomach flu, that’s all,” Mick told Chris.
“Then why can’t I see him? You don’t think he has one of them viruses that escaped, do you?”
“To be honest, Doc probably thought that,” Mick said, “but he doesn’t now.” He placed a plate of food at the table before Chris and then one before Tigger.
The table came to Tigger’s nose.
“You want me to make you a booster?” Mick asked.
“I’m not a baby,” Tigger said. “I drove a car.”
“What?” Chris laughed. “You tried to get away.” He turned to Mick. “When I hit Jonah Briggs, Tigger tried to leave me there. Good thing his pint sized body couldn’t reach the pedals or see over the steering wheel or I would have been abandoned.”
“I gave it my best shot,” Tigger replied as he adjusted to kneel on the bench. “How come you made eggs, Mick?”
“That’s what I wanted to make.”
Chris sniffed the food. “Smells good. Jonah Briggs said we could have anything. There’s beef in a can, you know.”
“I know. I wanted eggs.” Mick sat down at the table.
“You always make us eggs,” Chris said with a peaceful smile. “I remember when you used to come over in the morning, get us ready for school, and make us breakfast.”
“That’s because your mom used to think Ho Ho’s were a healthy meal.”
“I got more than that,” Tigger said. “You guys would leave for school and me and Mick would have a really cool lunch. We’d go to Medina a lot for lunch.”
“No way, that’s cheating.” Chris said. “Wasn’t that cheating, Mick?”
“Spoiling is more like it. Besides, your mom hated to cook.”
Chris paused with his fork to his mouth. “I miss her. I miss her and Dustin and Gram. I miss them so much, Mick.”
Mick reached over and grabbed Chris’ arm. “I miss them too. We will for a very long time.”
“Do you think about them a lot?”
“Every day, a hundred times a day. Everything and anything makes me think of them.”
“Me, too,” Chris said. “One day we’ll see them again, though.”
“Yes. But not for a long time.” Mick retracted his hand and started to eat.