My Dead World (7 page)

Katie nodded. “Pappy said.”

“Yeah,” Addy said. “He told us to wait out here. It was better and not come in.”

At that point, Cade had ran up to us. “Everything okay?”

“My father told them to wait out here.”

“Something must have happened.”

“I think so, can you wait with them?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I raced into the cabin and the second I entered, I heard it.

Thump. Bang-bang. Thump.

“Niles,” my father rushed from the kitchen. “Thank God you’re here. I didn’t want to make a decision without you.”

“Why are the girls outside?”

“It’s safer.”

“Safer?” I asked, then followed my father.

As soon as I rounded the corner into the hall, I saw the source of the noise.

At the end of the hallway was the small sewing room. My mother sought solace there, it was her private room. Now it was something else. Lisa stood with her shoulder to that door. One hand held the knob, while the other held that pint of Jack. Her body bounced from the force of the door that rattled on its hinges.

Intermittently, she sipped some courage while securing that door.

My eyes widened. “What is that?”

“I believe it’s Paul,” my father said. “And I think he’s turned.”

The banging didn’t stop. Immediately, I wanted to blast Cade. How did this happen? He said they didn’t turn that fast? Had Paul really made the turn into some sort of mindless, dying, violent creature?

Paul didn’t seem to be touching the doorknob. More so just relentlessly running into the door, repeatedly. Just to be sure, we secured the doorknob with a rope and connected that to the ceiling beam. If Paul did manage to open it, he wasn’t opening it much.

The banging had just started ten minutes earlier. My father told me he was about to take a nap and Lisa was going to make dinner with the girls when she heard shuffling in the room. The scuffles turned to the bangs, and she called for my father.

They deduced what had happened.

My father sent the girls outside for two reasons, they didn’t need to hear, nor did he want to answer questions about what was going on. Plus, he didn’t want to take a chance on Paul getting out. He still had to figure out what needed to be done, but the first option was to keep him in that room.

So he looked for a rope.

We sent Lisa out to switch places with Cade. She gladly accepted that role and brought her sippy pint with her.

The banging didn’t stop.

“You said they didn’t turn this fast,” I told Cade.

“They also go through phases. My sister didn’t, but there have been cases where they have outbursts and return to normal before they finally turn all the way,” Cade answered.

“Oh my God,” I closed my eyes. Poor Paul. What he had to be going through.

“What should we do?” My father asked. “I mean, we can’t open the door. If we do he’s attacking one of us. I can go outside, look in the window and see if I can get a shot at him. But do we want to do that in front of the girls, especially if we haven’t explained anything to them?”

Hearing my father talk about Paul like he was a rabid animal in the house, made me sick. I realized in the movies it came easy to people. Virus outbreak, people turned into cannibals ... kill them.

In the movies it always seemed as if people changed instantly into a kill to survive mode. Able to look at an infected and kill them, no matter who they were to them.  I suppose those same movie people would deem me a weakling. But I wasn’t weak. I was a normal person. I was human. It was my husband behind that door. Movies didn’t address emotions. It wasn’t that easy to lose people you loved. I couldn’t change my mindset that fast.

“He’s a still a living person.” Cade said. “He’ll only be able to keep up the banging for so long. He will eventually knock himself out. Then we can figure out what to do.”

“How do we know?” My father asked. “How do we know if he turned?”

I thought for a moment. “Cade, would you be able to tell that?”

“Yeah, if I saw him. How?”

“The same way my dad wanted to see if he could get a clear shot. We look in the window. We look at him and figure out what is going on.”

“Let’s do it,” Cade said.

“Watch the door,” I instructed my father and headed out the back door of the cabin.

“I have seen cases where the person just has outbursts,” said Cade. “And within an hour or so they returned to normal. It happens in cycles, until they finally don’t come back.” He stepped outside.

“This way,” I led him to the side of the cabin. “This room.”

Before looking in the window, Cade paused. “This is going to be a problem. That’s a big window.”

“Yeah, my father put it in for my mom so she could look out while she sewed.”

“Let’s only peek, because if he charges for that window, he may break through.”

We both stayed close to the cabin, inching our way there to get a sideways peek. But the second I leaned forward to look, Paul leapt at the window, smacking his hand against the glass.

It startled me so much that I actually screamed.

Paul didn’t try to get out or break the glass. A smear of blood covered his chin, he tilted his head and stared pathetically at me.

I didn’t need to be a scientist or health care worker experienced with the virus to know Paul hadn’t turned yet. I could see it in his eyes. Cade confirmed that.

He was indeed still Paul, he was only having an episode.

I also knew, by the looks of my husband, it wouldn’t be long until he did turn and I had to figure out what I was going to do.

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Eventually, Paul made it through his ordeal, and wore himself out enough that Cade could give him a sedative, restrain him and reconnect the IV. The problem was, getting a viable vein was hard. His skin and flesh were dying.

I always imagined dead flesh to look grey. I didn’t expect it to split, be black and smell. I felt helpless, my husband had transformed physically into an unimaginable image and there was nothing I could do about it. Every single movie I ever watched regarding the ‘undead’ manifested right there in a reality that was hard to swallow.

Even Paul’s face started to transform. His skin was splotchy and his eyes started losing their luster.

Normally, from what Cade told me, the virus hit like the flu. During the digression, necrosis set into some extremities. Mainly fingers, toes, nose, and slowly spread. Whatever it was attacked the brain like rabies, sending the infected into a rage, while they lost all ability to perform basic life functions and unaware that their body was dying.

A person who contracted their illness through a bite, had a different sequence of events. Infection at the bite site, fever from that, and necrosis started before the actual flu symptoms.

I didn’t know what came first for Paul, the maddening outburst or the bloody vomit.

There was a screen over the window in the sewing room. We had to open the window to air out the room. We cleaned it as best as we could, but not without using gloves and face coverings.

For the safety of everyone, no one, not even the girls were allowed near Paul.

I honestly didn’t want them to see him like that.

Cade was exhausted and I suspected a lot had to do with the emotional aspect of losing his sister.  He didn’t mention it at all, how it affected him. I wanted to talk to him, make sure he was all right, but opted to wait until he broached that subject.

He tried unsuccessfully to get in touch with his parents. That bothered him. Finally he asked if I minded staying awake for a few hours so he could rest. He would take watch after that.

I didn’t mind. I had a lot to process.

Our cabin, while behind a fence was still not as secure as we hoped, and we didn’t know what would happen with Paul.

He could easily and finally turn, undo his restraints and wreak havoc.

I didn’t want to think about that possibility.

My father offered me and the girls his bedroom. I declined. That was his and Lisa’s room, I would take the bedroom that was always mine. Well, what I called a bedroom.

The cabin was always special. At one time, and I only saw it in pictures, the cabin was one big room with high ceilings. The walls were rustic and beautiful.  The one large fireplace used to heat the entire place, until he sectioned it off, creating a hallway and two small bedrooms. He added another fireplace to the one bedroom, and my mother used the smaller one for sewing, leaving the door open for heat.

It didn’t stop there. It was a family cabin now, no longer a hunting and fishing one.

Then my father built the small loft that held a mattress and small night stand. It was a cool loft with a railing and staircase. I always wanted that loft, but after my uncle died, it became Bobby’s. He never separated the kitchen and living area. The large picnic style block table did that. Plus, the large fireplace was there on that shared wall.

He always intended to close in the large area behind the staircase and make it my room. He never got around to it. I guess he petered out or ran out of money. The drapery was the only sense of privacy for the two double beds.

While Cade slept in the loft, and before my father turned in, I took time with the girls. I read them a story as I did often. Typically, Paul was the storyteller.

Katie yawned a lot, not from boredom but from being tired. She always had wide, long exaggerated yawns that irritated her older sister.

“Is Daddy very sick?” Addy asked.

“Yeah, he is.”

Then Katie questioned. “Is he going to die?”

“Don’t say that!” Addy barked. “That’s our dad.”

“Let’s hope not,” I answered. “But right now he is sick and we need to keep away so you don’t get sick.”

“What if he dies?” asked Katie, “and I don’t say goodbye?”

“Stop that!” Addy argued, then growled. “He’s not gonna die!”

I wanted badly to agree with Addy, but I couldn’t. Katie’s youthful ignorance was a blessing to her at that moment. Quickly, I switched the subject back to the book. Addy wasn’t having it. Her mood dropped and I could tell her father was on her mind. After finishing the book, Katie was asleep, Addy wasn’t. I tucked her in, kissed her and hoped she’d get some rest. Somehow, I believed she’d fall asleep with a worried heart.

Just before midnight, I heard the odd chirping ring. It was the satellite phone and it could only be one person. Bobby.

Both my father and I raced for it, but I retrieved it first.

“Bobby,” I gushed out. “Thank God.”

“Hey, how are things?” he asked. “How’s Paul?”

“He’s not good. He had a violent outburst. We have a newcomer with us, he’s a first responder and he sedated Paul. We restrained him, too.”

“Does this guy know what he’s dealing with?”

“Yeah, he dealt with the virus in DC. I didn’t even know DC was hit.”

“Last I heard they had a few cases,” Bobby said. “Sadly, we don’t have enough agents to cover all areas and report accurately.”

“From what Cade said, it’s an epidemic there. He said Paul hasn’t turned yet. But is close.”

“I’m sorry, Sis, I really am. Is anyone else sick?”

“No,” I answered. “We’re fine. We’re being cautious. You said it’s not airborne.”

“It isn’t, but it is extremely contagious. Any contact with any fluids could be deadly,” he said.

“We’re being careful. You said not everyone catches it though. Even if they’re bit.”

“That’s true. But that is a low percentage. Don’t bank on that, bank on safety.”

“How are you?” I asked.

“Frustrated. I want out. I want to work. I want to find you guys. Things are falling apart all over and they have me in quarantine. It’s useless now to be in quarantine. I think I should be out by morning. So I’m gonna use this as a chance to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Are you gonna come here?”

“That’s the plan. When I can. If I can’t get there, I’ll hunker down somewhere and wait it out. And trust me, this will die out. It just depends how long it takes to hit the infection ceiling.”

“Is there any way to stop the spread?”

“Yeah, actually there is.”

Upon hearing that, I filled with hope. Until he told me the solution.

“Anyone infected must be killed,” said Bobby. “It is the only way. Once they turn, they will turn someone, and they’ll turn someone. If let’s say it’s three weeks from infection to death from this illness, then every day a new person gets sick, is another day the cycle extends. Another day we have to wait it out.”

I spun from my father, whispering. “Kill them?”

“I said it before. It’s not the first time you’re hearing this from me. I told you before. Paul is …”

“My husband.”

“Is infected,” Bobby said. “Once he turns, he is more of a danger to you all and is a shell of who he was.”

“How do you know? How do you know he’s a shell?”

“I’m the doctor here.”

“But you’re not God. How do you know these sick people, the ones attacking, maybe they know who they are, but can’t say.”

“Grow up, Niles and don’t be so naïve.”

“Fuck you, Bobby. I’m trying to be reasonable. Killing them before we know is not reasonable, it’s panicking.”

“It’s saving lives,” he argued.

“Maybe if we sedate them, medicate them, keep them alive, maybe they’ll come back once there is a cure. If we kill them, we’ll never know.”

“Okay. Stop. Listen to me. You can sedate them all you want. Medicate them. Try every anti viral and antibiotic there is. Don’t you think we tried that? Don’t you think we did everything to keep them alive? We did. They stop swallowing and won’t drink. They throw it up if they do. You can’t intravenously hydrate someone whose veins won’t hold a line. This thing … It makes them insane, and even if you managed to hydrate them, stave off dehydration, bottom line is … this virus will kill them. This virus kills. A slow, painful death. There is no cure.”

“Yet.”

Bobby growled. “Okay. Yet. Maybe there will be. Who knows? But I can say this with the utmost certainty. There will not be a cure before the virus ravages Paul to the end. And whether he is growling at you, attacking you, whatever, trust me, he’s suffering. He’s in pain. If you love him, put him out of his misery before it gets worse.”