After just one more step into the street, an explosion rang out. It wasn’t loud, it didn’t rock the ground, but it stood out amongst the firing.
Lars knew. He turned to look and another explosion occurred. This one sent flames shooting upward and not far from them.
The direction of the fire told him all he needed to know. Rose nearly collapsed and with a heart wrenching sob, her knees buckled and it took everything Lars had to hold her up. She rolled into his embrace and Lars lowered his head with saddened eyes and whispered, “Mick.”
19. Coming Home
THREE DAYS LATER
October 22nd
“They’re back!” Jake screamed into the schoolhouse church.”They’re coming up the main roadway!”
Chris dropped his pencil and even Mary stood.
“Hold up everyone.” She walked slowly and focused from around the desk. Chris heard her squeak out a moaning scream and he saw Doc walking in alone.
“Fai,” she rushed by Chris and the kids to Doc. “Oh, God. I thought when you didn’t call that—”
“No, we’re good. We’re good,” he said. “We were successful. It took two days. We have to go back, ” his head lowered. “We had losses. We did.”
“I’m sorry,” Mary said.
Chris wasn’t waiting for permission. After hearing Doc, he flew from the church, out the door and down the steps.
The convoy of cars had pulled on to the street and he saw the first vehicle. Faster than he believed he had ever run in his life, he raced to the cars.
He saw Jonah Briggs step from the first vehicle and walk around the front. He spotted Chris and they made eye contact.
Where was Mick? Chris looked about, he didn’t see him. He had to be in the back. He hurried to Briggs.
“Jonah!” Chris ran up to him.
“Chris,” Jonah said softly. “Where is your brother?”
“Oh, he’s in the playroom. I didn’t even think about getting him.”
“Let’s… let’s go find your brother.”
Chris felt Briggs’ hand on his back and he froze. “Where’s Mick, Jonah?”
“Chris…”
Chris looked around. “He’s here, right? Mick’s somewhere. Is he lagging behind? What?”
“Chris.” Briggs cleared his throat. “Listen to me. Let’s find Tigger.” He reached for Chris.
“No.” Chris pushed his hand away. His body trembled and with desperation he looked around. Somewhere, in all the men, Mick had to be there. “Where is Mick? Where’s my father?”
Briggs stared at him.
“No.” Chris shook his head, his words shook, and his insides cramped up in pain. “No. Not Mick, please, not Mick.” Eyes filling with tears, Chris eked out the words. “Please, not Mick. Please.” Sobbing, he stepped into Briggs. “Not Mick.”
Briggs wrapped his arms around Chris. “We need to talk, Chris.”
Chris lifted his head. He could barely breathe. “Where is he, Jonah? Where’s Mick?”
Briggs pulled him back into the embrace.
20. Lost Cause
October 24th
Cleveland, OH
“Oh, stop it. It’s not that bad.” Lars spoke with irritation, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You think this is a picnic for me?” he walked over to the bed. “Every time I step in this room, I’m reminded of the tropics. Oh, by the way, no trace at all of MHS in Erie. So that was a positive.” He reached down to touch the arm.
Mick cringed in pain. “Every time you touch me, I swear to God, you do it on purpose ‘cause you know it hurts.”
Lars smiled.
Mick was only covered by a sheet. His body was red and a rash covered his chest and arms. He groaned again. “I thought I should be dead by now.”
“You should have been. Apparently you are not,” Lars said. “Temperature is still high. Fluid in the lungs, but the rash hasn’t begun to bubble or pus, so that’s a good sign. It’s definitely slowed down. Who would have known that half-brained theory of mine about baking you would have worked? Certainly not me.”
“This is the worst I have ever felt in my life.”
“And you are by far the worst patient I have ever had.”
“Why didn’t you let me die?”
“Same reason you didn’t blow yourself up. You didn’t want to die, and I didn’t want you to die. Although, baking myself every time I come in here makes me moody.”
“You’re not the one that’s sick.”
Lars sighed. “No, I am not. The antidote worked on me. And I am developing antibodies, Mick, so hang tight.” He tapped Mick’s arm.
Mick screamed.
“God, you’re such a baby.” Lars stepped back. “I have to be away from home, I wish this could be more tolerable for both of us. Now I have to get back to the lab.” He walked to the door. “Do you need anything?”
“No.” Mick shook his head.
“Make sure you respond back to the message from Chris,” Lars told him. “I know your fingers are swollen and hurt, but he knew it was me writing it the last time because I used punctuation.”
“I’ll call him instead.”
Lars reached for the door. “Just try not to do that Mick moaning and groaning thing, the boy is worried enough.”
Mick grunted. “Lars?”
“Yeah?”
“Be honest. How are we doing with all this? Was it worth it?”
“Absolutely, Mick. I’ll be one hundred percent honest with you. You still are not out of the woods and we may yet lose you, but damned if we both aren’t fighters. Plus, we’re getting close. We are getting so close.”
Lars took another look at Mick, who had suffered through an illness that should have killed him days earlier. It was a tough road, and Lars wasn’t the most confident, but he was determined.
Whether his efforts would work remained to be seen and only time would tell.
21. Moving Forward
Fifteen Years Later
Erie, PA
Jonah Briggs paused in his walking the stairs. His knees hurt. When they went bad, he didn’t know. He was able to get some fishing in earlier, the weather was nice, but it was back to work. Things weren’t too bad. Biggest problem was with the wheat crops and some of the manufacturing.
He returned to his office a few minutes earlier, carrying a box.
“Tigger, damn it,” Briggs said as he opened his office door. “Get out from behind my desk.”
“Really?” Tigger slid from the chair. “No, ‘hey how are you’? How was Virginia? Glad to see you back?”
“You called every day. Everything okay?”
Tigger was in uniform. A tailor made uniform to fit his size. He was proportionate but still small. He had never really grown much through the years. “Yeah, good. Just like Farmer Joe said.”
“Farmer who?” Briggs set the box on his desk and sat down with an exhale.
“Farmer Joe, the guy who runs the big tobacco farm.”
“That’s Joseph Farms.”
“Same difference. Why are you grunting? You getting old?”
“Yeah, Tig. I am. I want to retire, but Wentworth won’t take over.”
“I can.”
Briggs laughed. “Uh no. Napoleon had his reign, we don’t need a repeat of history.”
“Oh man, is that dig toward my size?”
“No, it’s a dig toward your tyrant attitude, asshole.”
Tigger laughed. “Anyhow, field is clean. They were right. Those goofy half-dressed Indian acting things were raiding the fields. Man, you’d think it was corn or weed. Which by the way—”
“No.” Briggs snapped off a reply. “Don’t ask again.”