My Dead World (20 page)

“That’s all right. You got a group with you?” she asked.

“A small one, yes.”

“Where abouts you calling out from?”

“Western Pennsylvania.”

“You got supplies?”

Before I could answer, Lev flew over and shook his head. “Don’t tell them we have supplies. It could be a trap to find food.”

I lifted the microphone. “I don’t know how long what we have will last.”

A male voice came on. “West PA, you anywhere near Bedford, Ohio. Got a grocery chain warehouse. A man named Buzz is holding down fort there, He’s taking people in.”

“That is really good to know,” I said. “Thank you.”

“You hang in there, sweet pea,” said KA4. “Just get on the radio every even hour. Check in. That’s what we do. We check in and help. I can’t do much for you. I’m in Kentucky. But we can try.”

“What’s going on out there?” I asked. “I mean, I haven’t heard anything.”

Silence.

KA4 came back on. “We haven’t either. I know we’re pretty isolated and it’s best if we all stay that way and far from populated areas. I’d rather be safe and not know, then venture out and die.”

The verbal exchange between the camps lasted only a few minutes longer, then everyone signed off.

“You have to be careful,” Lev said. “You just don’t know.”

“They sounded like good people.”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I just really need to talk to Bobby. I really do and there’s no signal at all. The last I spoke to him it was full of static.”

“We may feel like we’re up on a hill,” Lev said. “But look around. We’re in a valley. You have a hard enough time getting a signal when everything is good. Combine that with Bobby being in a bad area, you won’t be able to reach him. If you want, if you really need to talk to him, I have an idea that might work.”

I stared at him for a moment and then listened to what he had to say.

I thought my father would call me insane or ridiculous, but he agreed it was a good idea and that we should try. Lev and I left the camp and headed to Landings Peek. It was the highest point in the area. We weren’t at the top of the world, but we were higher than my father’s land or Big Bear.

On the way, we not only passed stragglers, we passed infected who had not turned. In my mind I truly believe that together they were dangerous, but in actuality they canceled each other out. The undead went after those who were only infected.

We arrived at Landings Peek and not a soul was around. I didn’t expect stragglers to make it up there. Their legs started to give away from walking and if they attempted it more than likely, they’d be crawling by the time they reached the top.

I pulled out the satellite phone and called my brother. To my surprise it not only rang, but Bobby answered.

I squealed out, grabbed Lev, hugged him then cradled that phone. “Bobby?”

“Oh my God,” he gushed. “I can hear you.”

“Lev brought me to Landings Peek.”

“That was really good thinking.”

“Where are you, Bobby?”

“Back in quarantine again.”

“What? How?”

“Military picked me up on the way. Since I’m a doctor, they detained me. I’m in quarantine until they know I’m safe to work on patients.”

“The military. So things are still up and running?”

“Niles, it’s bad out here. Things have fractioned off. I give it another two weeks and there won’t be a place in this country not hit by this virus. The government is holding on with all it has.”

“How long should we wait it out?”

“If my calculations are right, then August. Give it two months, then wait some more. Do you have enough supplies?”

“We do. We also have the land, we’re lucky.” I paused. “I just want you to get here.”

“I will get there when I can. I promise. I’ll bring supplies, too.”

“Bobby ... Lisa died. Mr. Boswick, too.  I have to ask you something. We had a little girl with us, she died. But before she got sick she was sharing food with my girls. I need to know if my girls are at risk.”

“Katie is not sick, right?”

“Right.”

“Niles, she may not get sick. She may be immune.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“I can tell you, that it is highly contagious, but I don’t know of an incident where that little amount of virus has infected anyone.”

I heaved out a huge breath of relief. “So it’s more than likely they won’t get infected?”

“More than likely they won’t. I can’t be one hundred percent certain, but it is unlikely.”

I wanted to cry. A huge part of why I wanted to talk to Bobby had to do with easing my mind about my girls.

We spoke for a little bit more. I discovered he hadn’t made it very far, he was driving a government car and, that was how he got tagged.

Feeling so much better about everything, I ended the call and told him I’d try again in a couple days if I didn’t hear from him.

I thanked Lev.

Talking to Bobby was what I needed. I wished with all my heart he was with us. Cade was doing a superb job as our medical person, but I wanted and needed Bobby.

We left Landings Peek, my entire mood had shifted. I was still sad about Lisa, Hannah and Boswick, but at least it wasn’t overshadowed by my fear that I would lose my daughters as well.

I tried to be considerate of Lev’s feelings. He portrayed strength, but I knew he had to be hurting. Despite the face he put on.

“I appreciate you doing this,” I told him. “It means a lot. Especially with all you have been through.”

“I needed the diversion. I almost took a ride to Big Bear.’

“What for?”

“Whatever I can find. Anything extra we get for your cabin will help us in the long run.”

“How about I go with you?” I asked. “Maybe we’ll go tomorrow. We’ll take a ride over there.”

“I would like that. We’ll ask Cade as well. I know everything is weighing heavy on him.”

Lev was right. Cade was dealing with so much it just seemed like he got lost in the shuffle. I was guilty of that, because I depended on him. He was a newcomer into our fold, a stranger that joined us by chance and I was very grateful for him.

I made a promise to myself that I was going to let him know how much all he had done was appreciated.

Even with my grief over Lisa, I was excited to share with Cade, what Bobby had told me.

It was an enormous burden lifted from my shoulders. What a relief. The fear that something would happen to my girls. That every moment, of every day, I would worry that they would get sick. That worry was snuffed out by my brother’s words.

Since the second Cade told me about the apples and how the girls shared the dip, I fretted over it. What had I done?

Bobby was a scientist. He dealt with the virus. He knew. When he said the chances were slim, I grasped on to those words. I felt recharged. Talking to Bobby was just what I needed and I couldn’t wait to share what I learned with my father and the others.

We drove back, passing the same stragglers and infected. Lev rode by our driveway, drove nearly to the highway, then turned around when no infected could see. He just didn’t want to take a chance of being followed.

Moving in a more energized manner, I unlocked the gate when we pulled up and waved Lev to keep going, I’d catch up.

After securing the fence, I walked the distance to the cabin.  We weren’t gone all that long. Maybe thirty minutes. It surprised me to see my father and Cade rush outside when Lev pulled up.

As I walked closer, I realized they weren’t rushing out in excitement to greet me; they rushed out to stop me before I went into the cabin.

The second I saw my father’s face, I knew.

All positivity, my hopefulness, all that fueled me with a renewed energy, came to a grinding halt.

I went from being on a high to my world crashing around me.

I didn’t need to hear my father’s words. I knew. I just knew.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to breathe. Every bit of my soul demolished on that porch, and I wanted to die.

Addy was sick.

There wasn’t a part of me that didn’t cling to the hope that my father was wrong, that Cade made a mistake. Somehow, maybe, those eggs
were
really bad.

That wasn’t the case.

Addy, my oldest child, the one so positive and hopeful was sick and she was dying from a horrendous virus.

I lost it.

In the half an hour that I was gone her fever raged, she curled in a ball and whimpered in pain. Up until that point, I didn’t ask why someone threw up blood, but I wanted to know why my daughter did.

Quite simply, the fever was breaking down her insides.

My baby. My precious baby.

I didn’t want to hear that it wasn’t going to take long.

I didn’t want to hear that she wouldn’t turn into one of those things. A desperate part of me wanted her to turn so I wouldn’t lose her. Not just yet. I was not ready.

If I had any strength in me it went out the window, I was an emotional mess.

My body trembled when I raced into the cabin and found her. Like a spoiled toddler, I screamed. Cried over and over, out from my soul as I held onto my sick child.

It wasn’t happening.

No.

Was it a breakdown? Yes, I believe it was. Whatever walls left that protected my emotions crumbled and I was literally out of control. No reasoning whatsoever.

At that moment and time, I wanted to die. Die because I did not want to watch my child leave this earth.

There were no consoling words of hope. No … maybe it won’t happen.

It was happening.

“Niles,” my father said. “I know you’re hurting. I know the baby is sick, but you need to be strong.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why? I just want to die. I can’t do this. I can’t lose her and I don’t want to live without her.”

That was the moment. I truly believed I felt that way.

No matter how sad and hurt I was, I was wrong and that was validated to me in the tiny voice of my other daughter, Katie.

“What about me, Mommy? Don’t you want to live for me?”

The switch flipped, I suddenly felt it in my being. The tears instantly stopped. Not that I wasn’t hurting, I was, but in that split second I realized my lashing out, my hysterics were my selfish grief. A wave of rational took over.

Holding my daughter, I looked up to my father, then to Addy in my arms, and finally to Katie.

“Yes, baby,” I said to her. “I am so sorry I said that. Mommy is just upset. I’ll never say it again. More than anything I want to live for you. So you do me a favor, okay?” I sniffed. “You stay as far away from this cabin right now as you can. Because I need you to stay well.”

I also knew that if I wanted to ‘live’ for Katie then I had to do everything in my power, as well, not to get sick. That meant laying Addy in the bed and being cautious of my own safety. If it was just me, perhaps I wouldn’t care. But it wasn’t just me. It was my daughter, my father and everyone else that formed a bond in that cabin.

Not to say I would leave Addy’s side. I didn’t. I didn’t take her from the cabin either.

Sheets, clothing, pillows could be replaced, but those final moments with my daughter could not.

I was angry, criticized Lisa for taking the life of a sick child not even twelve hours after Hannah came down with the symptoms. As I sat with my own daughter, I realized why Lisa did what she did.

That twelve hour mark threw my daughter into a state of weakness. The word suffer wasn’t strong enough to describe what she went through. She had thrown up so much blood, her body was white except for the portions of her body with necrosis. She went into seizures for minutes at a time. Each time ending with me begging her, “Breathe, baby, breathe.”

In my heart, soul and mind, I did everything I possibly could to make her comfortable. We tried to get fluids into her, but there wasn’t a single vein that was viable.

Truth was … I wasn’t doing everything.

I knew my one option, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. How does a mother make that choice?

No one wanted to bring it up to me though I sensed that every person that stepped in that cabin thought it.

My father would come in, stroke Addy’s head, kiss me, then leave. He focused on Katie.

Cade would come in, check on Addy, say nothing and leave.

If I were in their position I don’t think I would be brave enough to suggest it. After all, I was never a fan of the idea.

Then finally, someone did.

I was sitting in a chair next to Addy, holding her hand, listening to her cry in her sleep, while her body trembled from the fever. She had just come out of another seizure and vomiting episode, I cleaned her and changed her.

Lev walked in, pulled up a chair next to me. “Everyone’s sleeping,” he said. He extended his reach passed my chest and he placed a syringe on the nightstand.

“What are you doing, Lev?” I spoke softly, my emotions causing my voice to crack.

“No, Nila …” Lev spoke with compassion. “What are
you
doing?”

“What?”

“No one wants to say it. So I will. Enough, Nila. It has to be enough.”

“No one will say it because it isn’t their child.”

“It’s not.” Lev shook his head. “And the pain you are feeling is unimaginable. Crushing. But …”

“No buts. I know what the needle is for, Lev. I know what you’re asking me. I …” I faced him and softened my voice. “I can’t. I know what’s going to happen to her. I know there’s no cure. I just can’t.”

“Why?”

I huffed out an emotional laugh. “She’s my daughter. And I want every single second with her that I can get. I can’t do it. I’m sorry. How do I live with knowing I was the one who ended her life?”

“How will you live knowing that she suffered all the way to the end? There’s no silent departure. It’s horrible. Painful. It’s not fair to her. It isn’t. She shouldn’t have to go through this because you want to hold on. As hard as that is to hear, it needs to be said.”

“So…. what? You want me to just inject her, kiss her and watch her die?”

“All that she is going through, will stop.”

I shook my head. “I don’t have the courage to do it.”

“Then get someone else to do it.”

“Like my father? Cade? No. It’s not fair. It’s my responsibility.  I could very well end up hating them for doing something I couldn’t do.”

“Then listen to what I am saying.” Lev grabbed my hand. “Kiss her, walk out, get some air and come back in and hold her.” His voice squeaked. “Hold her until …. Until.”

My eyes widened. “No. Lev. It’s …”

“I’ll be the one you hate. If it stops her pain, it’s what needs to be done. I’d rather have you hate me than watch your family and this baby suffer another minute.”

I locked eyes with Lev, looking at the hurt in them. It was breaking his heart to talk to me about it. I saw it. Firmly, I squeezed his hand and just stared at him for a moment. Leaning forward, I kissed him on the cheek. I started to say, “Thank you”, but he stopped me.

“Don’t … don’t say it. Okay? Just go.”

My hands and body shook out of control.

He had said to me,
“Kiss her, walk out, get some air and come back in and hold her. Hold her until …. Until.”

That was exactly what I did.

Before my final goodbye to my daughter, before those quiet peaceful last breaths, I didn’t go outside. Arms tight to my body, I silently cried in agony as I paced about the living area of the cabin. I wonder if I had done the right thing, made the right decision, and once again, Katie spoke to me. This time it wasn’t words. She had added a new drawing to the mural.

It was not typical Katie gloom and doom. Instead it was a flower of bright and vivid colors, the pedals were hearts, and above it was Addy’s name. The intention of the mural was to remember, to document. Katie saw it. There was more to Addy than her sickness and death. She was beauty and optimism. That was how I had to think of her. Not the child in the bed. Thankful for the years I had, not remorseful of the ones I wouldn’t get.

While staring at the mural, Lev called my name. It caused my stomach to flip.

Addy was covered and no longer trembling. Her breaths were slow and calm and she stopped whimpering. Her last moments in this world were not painful, not filled with suffering.

I pulled her into my arms and held her. Lev stayed in the room. He faced the corner, his head against the wall. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. He stayed that way until Addy passed.

I expected to truly feel rage at that second, to scream at Lev for killing my child. That wasn’t the case.

Addy and I had been battered in a war with the virus and it was over. I didn’t hate him. I didn’t hate him at all. He took on an unthinkable and agonizing task and for that, how could I feel anything less than love for my friend.