“Stop.” Bill held up his hand as they approached a room. He took a moment to cough. It was loose, more productive. “Is this her room?”
“Yes,” the nurse who pushed him, answered through her mask.
“I’ll walk in,” Bill said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. If she needs to see this thing won’t beat her, she needs to see me standing.”
The nurse didn’t respond, she simply locked the brakes on the wheelchair and, with gloved hands, assisted Bill to his feet. She didn’t go in the room. She wasn’t permitted.
Alone, Bill approached the door. He lifted his hand and knocked once.
He recognized the dark skin and Lexi Martin’s face, even through her face shield.
“Mr. Daniels,” Lexi said, “come in.”
Bill nodded and stepped inside. He could see Isabella across the room in a bed surrounded by equipment. Actually, with all the test tubes, to Bill it looked as if her bed were positioned in a lab more so than in a hospital room.
“She awake?”
“Yes.” Lexi motioned with her hand and led Bill to the bed.
Bill rested his hand on Isabella’s. “Hey, you,” he said softly.
Isabella’s head turned to him and her feverish eyes slowly opened.
Bill called upon his inner strength at that second when he saw how sick Isabella looked. Her eyes were dark, her face was pale, and her lips had dried and cracked. Black splotches formed under her chin on a grossly-enlarged portion of her neck.
“Look what you’ve gone and gotten yourself into,” he joked. “I told you not to kiss me.” He turned his head and released a small cough.
Isabella tried to speak, but her jaw would barely open due to the swollen glands.
“Got yourself a private room, I see.” Bill winked. “You don’t know how lucky you are. Everyone else is jammed in. You’re special.”
Lexi added, “She is. She gets the royal treatment. Actually, we’ve a lot to learn from her, since we know she definitely has the flu. She’s going to be a big help.”
“Hear that?” Bill asked Isabella. “You’re gonna help others. Isn’t that just like you?”
Again, Isabella tried to talk, but as she inhaled to do so, she was shaken by a violent cough, deep and resonating. She wheezed hard and coughed again, her face turning purple and red; she struggled to breathe, just as repugnant brown mucus slid from the corner of her mouth.
As if it was nothing, Lexi casually stepped in front of Bill. Almost too carefully, she removed the seeping sputum with a tissue, smiled at Isabella, then with an ‘excuse me’ moved away from the bed and walked over to what looked like a lab counter.
Bill watched Lexi place the tissue in a plastic dish, for testing he supposed. He glanced back down at Isabella who looked up at him as she tried with everything she had, to focus on his face.
Lexi returned. “Maybe we should let her rest, Mr. Daniels. And you, too.”
Bill understood; the brief visit had taken its toll on him. “Want to rest, Isabella?”
The slight tilt forward that Isabella’s head moved could have been considered a nod.
“I’ll let you rest then.” Hand on hers, Bill leaned closer to her. “I think I’ll nap, too.” He kissed her gently on the forehead.
She managed to moisten her lips some, then with thick mucus gurgling in her throat, Isabella croaked, “Are you better?”
“Me?” Bill asked. “Absolutely. Still not a hundred percent, strength is getting better. Fever broke for good this morning. But I still get…” he dramatically smacked his tongue in a clicking sound around his mouth as his face scrunched up, “I get this nasty taste in my mouth when I cough.” He chuckled, which irritated a little cough from him. After hitting himself once in the chest, Bill cringed. “See? There it is.”
Isabella’s eyes closed in agreement.
“You get some rest.” Bill kissed her again. “And get better.”
Slowly, Isabella looked at him. “Will I?”
“Hell yeah.” Bill smiled. “Aren’t I standing proof? If you don’t believe me, ask Dr. Lexi here. She’ll tell you.” Bill pointed to Lexi.
However, eyes too focused on Isabella, Bill didn’t see the telltale way that Lexi glanced away from him.
Reston, Virginia
Henry stared for a moment at the computer screen then slowly turned his chair to look at Kurt.
“Worse?” Kurt asked.
“The whole team is ill. All septic.” Henry tapped his hand on the arm of the chair and stood up. “I think I’m more than ready for bed.”
“Me, too,” Kurt agreed, a cup of coffee in his hand. “I haven’t slept in two days.”
“Me either.” Henry walked, hoping the movement would revitalize him. “I just hope I wake up tomorrow.”
“Kind of a wrong thing to say, don’t you think, in light of this flu thing.”
“I guess.” Henry picked up the coffee pot and inhaled the aroma of the freshly-brewed coffee. “What are we doing, Kurt?”
“Fighting.”
After a breath, Henry took a sip. “Do you know what tomorrow will bring? Do you? It’s already started.”
“Every hospital in every city will think they have the flu,” Kurt spoke in an almost dreamlike way. “People will flock to them. But hopefully,” he sighed, “sensible health facilities will be able to determine ‘real’ from psychosomatic. But you know it’s probably only going to be a matter of another day or two that every hospital in every city will have the flu. The World Health Organization…” His head turned at the sound of the office door opening. “Speaking of the WHO.”
Stepping into the office was Joshua Lincoln, a stern, tall older gentlemen from the World Health Organization. He set down his briefcase as soon as he walked in, flashed a greeting smile and began to take off his jacket. “Your relief is now here. Go get some rest, gentlemen. I’ll hold down this end.”
With sleep in sight, Henry’s eyes felt even heavier, if that were possible. “Thank, God,” he said. “I don’t think my poor body can handle any more.”
Kurt set down his cup. “Yes, but with all that’s on our minds, will we be able to rest?”
Henry swayed as he threw a look Kurt’s way. “Yes.”
Joshua chuckled. “Have you two left this office at all? Get some air. It’s not bad out there. I expected the worst. You know, a lot of panic and such. It’s calm. Eerie.”
“Like before the storm,” Kurt said.
“True,” Joshua concurred. “Airports are dead. I was one of four people on the plane. People are taking this very seriously on this side of the country.”
“As well they should,” Kurt commented. “Our reports differ from the west.”
“It’s out west.” Joshua nodded. “And as much as I love Hollywood… let’s keep it there. I talked to FEMA. They are positioning tight border patrols in Utah. Just in case. They’re getting things together. If, God forbid, this thing strikes this side of the country, we’ll be a bit better prepared.”
“We should have been prepared,” Henry interjected. “The government has had a council for this kind of thing since 1970.”
Kurt looked at Henry. “They’re doing the best they can. And let’s you and me get some rest so we can face what is gonna happen tomorrow.”
“I’m with you.” Henry walked to the door. “Night, Josh.”
Getting ready to leave, Kurt paused. “Oh, Josh, one thing. Any optimistic predictions from the WHO experts?”
Josh shook his head. “The WHO experts are pretty much along the same lines as you. Well, we haven’t talked to Lars Rayburn, he’s our top man. He was on the sites of the two previous outbreaks of this flu. I’ll get a hold of him tonight. He’s on holiday for a month.”