Each successive dig of Darrell’s fingers into his hips sent Jeff further and further over the edge. His legs felt tense. He tried to hold back by releasing his own grip, but he found his hand returning to its task, wanting to achieve that moment with a frenzied desire that he had never felt before.
The frantic slap of Darrell’s body against his told Jeff that Darrell was close as well. Each thrust created tremors that shot through Jeff. And that tiny, pre-orgasmic moan that Darrell released was all it took. Jeff was gone.
A chain reaction ensued.
Darrell was pushed over the edge too when he felt Jeff tremble violently and shout out his release. With a sharply arched back, he slammed into Jeff, and with a powerful groan achieved the liberation of his ecstasy as well.
In what Jeff believed to be the single most erotic moment of his life, his body shuddered one more time, and, slowly pulling away from Darrell, he fell to the bed.
Four deep gasps escaped Darrell as he dropped from his knees to a sitting position. His shoulders lifted and fell with the exertion and a trickle of sweat ran down the bridge of his nose. He caught the bead of moisture with a downward swipe of his hand as he looked at Jeff laying stomach down, naked rear end fully exposed.
There was total silence, too much silence for Darrell’s comfort. So, to avoid any awkward, embarrassing moments after the experience they’d just shared, Darrell stood up and opted for a shower.
Three things were produced by the shower Darrell took. A total body cleansing, a second release of pent-up sexual urges he thought he had completely purged, and the realization that they really had to open a window for fresh air.
He enjoyed the crisp, fresh scent of soap that stayed with him until he stepped back into the room and the aroma of their hibernation slapped him in the face. The room reeked of food gone bad. He couldn’t determine if that cheesy smell was the open bag of Doritos or all the dirty socks lying around. There was a hint of beer in the air, although Darrell supposed it would be more predominant had Jeff not been farting constantly.
Wrinkling his nose, Darrell shook his head. “Man, it stinks in here.”
“Tell me about it.” Jeff lay on the bed fully dressed as if he had somewhere to go.
“Should I open the balcony doors?” Darrell asked, moving to that side of the room.
“No way. I don’t want any of that air from outside in here.”
“But don’t you think fresh air might help?” Darrell asked.
“Are we sick?”
“No,” Darrell said.
“Is everyone else sick?”
Darrell nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Then that’s why. We aren’t breathing their air. And after seeing that military truck with all those bodies, no. No way. Not me. We’ll bide our time until the quarantine is lifted.”
“Maybe it is.” Darrell parted the drapes to look out into the darkness. “It’s kind of quieted down out there. Oh, hey, did you see? They burned the bank across the street.”
“Where you been? Happened yesterday.” Jeff lifted the remote and aimed it at the television. “And the quarantine isn’t lifted yet. It hasn’t been three weeks.”
“How are we gonna know?”
Jeff shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll know. That’s if the TV doesn’t go. We’re down to three stations now, all news.”
“So, you didn’t tell me. We got… distracted,” Darrell said, clearing his throat. “What did the captain say?”
“That Rodriguez is being detained and they are waiting for us. Something like that. Cell phone died. Oh!” Excitedly, Jeff sat up and turned up the volume. “Check this out. This is the guy who started the whole mess. Brought the flu to Anchorage.”
“Oh, shit. That asshole,” Darrell said, totally offended. “I hope they arrest him. Look, he’s alive.”
“I think that’s the point of this whole thing. He didn’t die,” Jeff said. “This is to show us the flu isn’t deadly.” There was a brief moment of silence and then Jeff burst into laughter.
“Yeah, right,” Darrell scoffed. “They ought to come to LA and watch the daily body parade.”
“You know what though? It’s gonna end up being something we’re glad we saw. We can talk about it for years to come.” Jeff reached into the night stand. “Beer?”
“Um… yeah.” Eyes focused on the television, Darrell reached blindly behind him for the can as he sat down on the bottom of the bed to watch Bill Daniels.
Anchorage, Alaska
“Horrible,” Bill responded to the question asked of him. He sat in a chair, alone in a small hospital room, facing a camera, an earpiece in his ear to allow him to hear the questions asked of him. “If I could chose only one word to sum it all up, horrible would be the one. It was the sickest I have been in my entire life, to be honest.”
On the other side of the country, the male anchorman spoke with dramatic seriousness. “There are rumors, Mr. Daniels, that people are dropping left and right from this flu. They have to bring in special trucks to remove the bodies. You’re out there right now, in the thick of it; tell us what it’s like.”
“There’s a lot of sickness, Dan. Hospitals are full. But the health officials forewarned us of this. I know from being a reporter myself that sometimes people overreact to what they hear and read. They don’t mean to, they just exaggerate.”
“So you’re saying they are exaggerating about the deaths? People aren’t dying of the flu?”
“Yes, some are dying of the flu, although no more than from the ordinary flu. Are they dropping left and right? No.” Bill shook his head. “Are they carting people out in trucks? Absolutely not. Not from what I see. Can people beat this flu?” Bill tilted his head and lifted his hand. “I’m sitting here, aren’t I? That should be proof enough.”
Bill nodded when he heard the anchorman’s “thank you” and the wrap-up of the segment. He smiled, watched the red indicator light on the camera go out, and then Bill removed the earpiece and stood up.
He had to unravel and take off the wires that were wrapped around him for the broadcast interview, wires that he himself knew how to set up. Finished with that, he stepped from that small room where they had him set up.
Moving into the hall, there was a lot of confusion and a lot fewer health care workers to deal with it as well. Bill knew without question where he had to go. The interview had already taken up too much of his time.
He walked down the corridor, moving aside for those who rushed past him. At the end of the hall, his destination, he watched one CDC worker emerge from the room, then another go in. Bill picked up his pace to get there.
Arriving at the room at the end of the corridor, Isabella’s room, Bill stood before the glass window that revealed Isabella in the bed and the single health care worker, Lexi, in that room. He was grateful he wasn’t too late. He knew that by taking the time to do the interview, he stood a chance of not being there when it happened. But it was a chance he had to take. Isabella was the type of person, who, if she weren’t so sick, would have insisted that he send his message of hope to the American people. Tell them they weren’t going under, they weren’t going to die.
And as Bill stared through the glass of the window, remembering his recently delivered message, he watched Isabella do just that… die.
Lodi, Ohio
Mick had a hard time believing it was a Friday night. Not that Lodi was a party town or the kick-ass place to be on a Friday, but generally there were people and noise. Tonight there were no teenagers hanging out past the curfew that Mick cursed the mayor for having to enforce. No cars. No Jeremy hogging karaoke and his badly-sung Barry Manilow songs carrying into the street. Nothing. Only darkness and silence.