The Aging: A Novel

by Jack Hunt

  And yet she was more than prepared to let him have the memory of playing a role?

  Was he meant to be cool with that?

  Was he meant to just say yes without hesitation?

  Of course not. She was asking for something that no mother should have to ask, and yet in many ways, how different was it from those who experienced long-term illness and decided to pursue physician-assisted suicide?

  That’s how she’d approached the conversation with him.

  She wanted him present. She didn’t want to die alone and yet she would.

  His mother had sent him articles on assisted suicide and euthanasia followed by videos of loved ones there in those final moments. But this wasn’t the same. She wasn’t going to down a drink that would send her into a slumber. She planned on shooting herself in the head.

  He pulled out his phone again, and looked at the articles, scanning each one.

  Seven countries were allowing assisted suicide although it was still fiercely debated. As many argued for their right to die, more countries and states were now green-lighting it, including California. These were people whose quality of living had diminished to such an extent, and were in so much pain, that they no longer wanted to go on. He watched another video that revealed what his mother would endure if he refused. The images were hard to forget. They were filmed by those who had contracted the pathogen and were now in the final days of its grip. Josh turned down the volume as the noise of a woman’s cries was too much to bear. The final moment was brutal.

  He didn’t want that for her.

  Neither did others who chose to help them.

  It was like putting a family pet out of its misery.

  For those who refused, the afflicted took matters into their own hands.

  Josh turned off his phone, he felt sick to his stomach as he made his way back into the house. He wouldn’t give her an answer that day. Who could? His mother knew that. She’d texted him to say she understood if he wouldn’t do it but asked him to think it over.

  And what of Lily?

  So oblivious to it all. The horror around them. The pathogen sweeping across the nation and the infected spreading it to gain extra years. Could he ever expect Lily to understand if he said yes to his mother? Would she resent him for the rest of her days?

  Three weeks since his release and the TV was still broadcasting. Like any virus, they thought they could reel this in, contain and even cure it if given enough time. But time was against them. Against all the experts. People couldn’t ride this out or wait a year for them to roll out some miracle vaccine. People were dying within thirty to forty days, others spreading it to buy themselves more time. What should have ended with the death of those infected didn’t, and it wouldn’t as long as people continued to spread it and infect others.

  The closest anyone could get to understanding what it was, came from articles on Werner Syndrome and the use of nanobots in medicine. But where did it come from? Was it a biological weapon that got away from its creators? Was it the result of a failed human trial paid for by an anti-aging company? That remained unknown.

  Josh monitored the news reports and stayed in contact with Callie via video conferencing and texting. Her family had like many others barricaded themselves inside and were expecting things to change.

  Josh never told Callie about their mother. That would have only brought the EIS to his door. His mother had instructed him to say nothing. That when it was time, when she had mustered the courage to go through with her plan, she’d give him strict instructions.

  “You’re to burn the house. I don’t want anyone stumbling across me.”

  He believed it was more than that.

  It was her final wish. Her desire to make sure he couldn’t return.

  She didn’t want him or anyone to get anywhere near her body after death. There was still a chance that when the body died, the infection would spread if it was touched. That’s why virus victims were being buried in mass graves by health officials in BSL 4 suits because the strain on morgues and funeral homes would only pose a threat for further transmission. The choice was based on previous experience from the Ebola outbreak in West Africa. They’d learned then that when someone died, the body was still highly contagious.

  As the days wore on, and the longer they stayed indoors, Lily’s curiosity piqued and her questions increased:

  Why was mom ill?

  What caused it?

  Couldn’t their mother go to the doctor?

  When could she come out of her room?

  And finally, was she going to die?

  Fortunately, his mother never made him answer those questions. She did it herself, in a way that only a mother could. Arms folded, Josh leaned against the doorway, listening to his mother’s calming voice as Lily pressed her ear up against the door and listened. Now and again, Lily would look at him and he would smile.

  He felt sorry for her.

  He’d had sixteen years with his mother. She wouldn’t be so fortunate.

  In those final days of deciding what to do, Josh spent a great deal of time sitting outside his mother’s bedroom talking with her. In many ways, he was grateful for the chance to be there when so many in life weren’t with their parents at the end. Despite all she was facing, his mother didn’t complain. It was as if she truly understood the value of those last days and instead allowed him to ask questions that he wanted to know. Life, love, marriage, and everything in between. Some of it seemed meaningless when looking down the barrel of an uncertain future but his mother believed he would survive, and one day look back on this and see the blessing.

  How? At that moment he saw nothing but bleak prospects.

  “Did you get all the items on the list?” She asked.

  “Yes.”

  She’d been very specific about making sure he had certain things in the backpack, survival gear, you could say, in preparation to ride out several days on the road. A map and compass, a whistle, a first-aid kit, a signal mirror, a fire starter, a knife, cordage, fishing line and hooks, a flashlight and headlamp, a solar blanket to stay warm, food, sanitation items, tape, water filters, and a multi-purpose tool. That wasn’t all, either. The bag was bulky.

  He’d collected the items from other homes to avoid going into the town now that local radio had said that Vidor, Texas, was in the grip of the mysterious virus.

  The CDC had released a statement saying they were doing everything in their power to find a cure. They were still advising people to stay away and notify them. But few did that. Until then the temporary cure was spreading it to others, a selfish act that was terrifying to witness as people went to great lengths to pass it on by touch, blood, or other bodily fluids.

  “Mom, why won’t you tell me who this is?”

  He didn’t think that it was his father she was sending him to, as he’d been out of their lives for so long that he wasn’t even a blip on the radar. At first, he’d gotten birthday cards and Christmas gifts from him but no telephone calls, no visitation once or twice a month. Then even that stopped. After he’d found the information about his father, he’d simply accepted it was what was best. That his mother was doing what was right by them.

  “I did.”

  “RW. What does that even mean? Who is it?”

  He was six when his father exited the house. It didn’t stand out in his mind as very few things did at that age. Nor did his mother nurture any memories he had. It was like his father was wiped from the slate. He never existed.

  “Trust me, Josh.”

  She wasn’t one for being vague. That wasn’t her. And despite his misgivings about it all, he did trust her. He figured it was a work pal, a friend from the past, someone who could keep them safe. At that time, Florida was a secondary plan, a last-ditch effort to survive. Nothing more.

  His relationship with his grandparents had been close but they were old.

  The only upside to the event was that the power was still on. How long it would stay that way was anyone’
s guess. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like in those weeks confined to that house if they had to endure the brutal heat of Texas without air conditioning. It was the small things now that held meaning, that he and others appreciated.

  Eventually, even that would be gone.

  As Josh crawled on top of the bed that evening, his mind turning over what would happen to the two of them, Lily was already under the covers. Under the glow of a small hand-held lantern, Lily held out a book. He snorted. “Come on, Lily, you’re too old for that.”

  “Please. It helps me sleep.”

  His mother had always done it. Although she was reaching an age where she was transitioning out of the stage of being tucked in, she liked having stories read to her or having someone there when she fell asleep. She would ask their mother. Now, she asked him.

  He relented and opened it wide. Lily curled in beside him and he wrapped an arm around her. It was a picture book called Are You My Mother? She’d gotten it when she was five. She’d held on to it because it made her laugh.

  Josh hadn’t made it three pages through the book when he heard knocking.

  At first, he thought it was a tree branch brushing up against the front of the house but then he heard a distinct knock as if someone was testing how firm the plywood was.

  He shut off the light and told Lily to be still.

  She immediately became scared.

  “Josh, don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  The house was as secure as he could make it in the days after his neighbors tried to get in but that didn’t mean it was Fort Knox. He slid off the bed and made his way over to the hallway. Moving quickly he made it down to his mother’s room, to where he could hear the noise.

  “Mom?” he whispered through the door.

  “It’s someone outside,” she said back.

  The front doorknob rattled. Someone tried to force their way in but Josh had added additional security using wood that could slide down behind the door. Even if they managed to break the hinges, they wouldn’t get in.

  Had his neighbor come back to finish the job?

  He didn’t dare make any noise.

  Whoever it was, they went around the house trying each of the doors. When that didn’t work, they smashed one of the windows. He heard them curse when they saw that behind the curtains was thick plywood preventing entry. They kicked at it but Josh had considered that and drilled into the brickwork.

  He saw shadows moving outside.

  From what he could discern, it was one person. Probably doing exactly what he’d done nights before — searching for supplies in other homes.

  He could have shot through the wood but the stranger might not be as willing to leave as his neighbors had been. He had Lily to think of now. His mother had told him that until he left, the best course of action was to pretend as if no one was there. If someone entered, then fair enough, he could take action but otherwise, silence was their greatest defense.

  Keeping the gun trained at the plywood, expecting it to explode inward any second, relief washed over him as the stranger gave up. They cursed and walked off, their footfalls growing more distant. No doubt they would end up at their neighbors’ and God help them then.

  “Josh?” his mother asked.

  “They’re gone. We’re okay.”

  Okay? They would never be okay again.

  He returned to his room to find Lily peering over the sheets. “Now where were we?”

  He never told her what the noise was. The less she knew, the better. He would soon become the only barrier of protection between her innocence and a world that was getting darker.

  Chapter Thirteen

  July 6

  She could die. Though deaths from copperhead bites were rare, her body could still go into anaphylactic shock as a result of the snake bite. It was the worst possible situation they could be in next to getting near people, and trusting someone, and yet that’s exactly what they would have to do as they rushed to get medical help and antivenom. Josh did his best to keep Lily still and calm to prevent the spread of venom but she was in agonizing pain.

  “Bean, here, here,” he said, bringing up an inhaler to her mouth.

  Ryan glanced at her.

  “She’s asthmatic,” Josh said.

  Lily took a few hard inhales and then returned to crying hard.

  “Damn it. Bring up the list of hospitals in the area on the GPS,”

  Josh stared at Ryan for a second. With everything that was happening, hospitals were the worst place to be. Anyone and everyone who was infected but didn’t understand the magnitude of the situation would have headed there. “Josh. Hey! Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, but those places are a death trap.”

  “We don’t have much choice.”

  The forest rushed by in Josh’s peripheral vision. They were topping ninety down that stretch of road. Josh pulled up a list of hospitals on the Garmin GPS device. “There’s a hospital in DeQuincy that’s twenty-four miles away and another hospital in DeRidder, eight miles away, or we can swing back to Merryville where there’s a medical center but I doubt that would have what we need.”

  “Singer?”

  “Nothing.”

  They were already close to Singer, a tiny community.

  “Then DeRidder it is.” It was a slight detour from their southbound route but all that mattered right now was getting her the antivenom as soon as possible. It would take roughly ten minutes to get there at a normal speed, Ryan was flooring it so they made it there in seven.

  Beauregard Health System was in the southernmost part of the city, just off the main stretch. “Listen up. When we get there, I’ll carry her in, you watch my back,” Ryan said.

  “Yeah. Yeah, sure thing.”

  As they made their approach, the hospital looked like a ghost town. Garbage rolled across the street like tumbleweed. Homes they passed were fortified with plywood. There were only a few regular cars in the parking lot. Abandoned or part of a skeleton crew?

  Making their way around, they noticed a few burned-out vehicles. Bodies lay strewn across the lot. Executions? The city of DeRidder had just over ten thousand people. Where were they? For an event of this magnitude, Josh figured the place would be crawling with infected seeking help but it had gone far beyond that now. No one knew who to trust. A touch. That was all it took to pass it on and with the attacks in cities and small towns all over the country, sifting through those who needed real medical care and those looking to pass on the pathogen would have been more than a challenge. It would have been practically impossible.

  Ryan swerved into the lot outside the three-story brick building. The truck bounced over a speed bump and stopped beneath the porte-cochere. He hopped out, hurrying around to the other side to get Lily out. There was no one around, no staff ready to come out and help. Josh was already out, handgun at the ready, holding it low.

  Lily hadn’t stopped crying the whole way. The pain had to be excruciating. “All right, sweetheart, we’re going to get you help.” Ryan shuffled her out and held her in his arms as he approached the automatic doors. Josh led the way.

  The doors hissed open.

  Inside it was dark and barren.

  Not a soul to be seen. It smelled of death.

  Someone had taken all the chairs in the waiting room along with gurneys and formed a huge barrier in front of doorways and one of the corridors. It was a tangled mess of metal.

  “Hello! Anyone?” Ryan bellowed. No answer. His voice echoed.

  They waited for a second or two.

  “I told you. These places are like morgues. Nothing but a final resting place.”

  Unlike other viruses that might slowly sweep across a nation or the world, allowing emergency services to continue to run, this was far different. By the time people knew what was happening, too many were infected, too many dead, and others were passing it on without even knowing. The rest, well they spread it on purpose. Hos
pitals and retirement homes would have been the first places people might have gone to transmit the infection. Those here wouldn’t have stood a chance. Stuck in beds. Staff run off their feet. By the time anyone realized, it would have spread like wildfire.

  Ryan set Lily down and he and Josh began moving obstacles out of the way to get through. The barrier seemed more of a message to anyone entering that the area was off-limits or no longer being used than a deterrent for entry, as it didn’t take them long to clear the way.

  They hurried down the corridor. Ryan eyed the signs, looking for a medication room. As they turned a corner onto the next hall, Ryan slowed, looking at the blood smeared on the wall. There was dry blood splatter, large and small droplets. A sign of people coughing. Succumbing to the pathogen. Ryan adjusted his N95 mask. He tried to remember fragments of what Elizabeth had said when she was on shift at the hospital. It varied from hospital to hospital. But besides pharmacies, medication was kept in secured areas, locked drawers, and medication carts on each nursing unit. Those were often inside a medication room. That room would also have a cart, and a safe or an automatic dispensing machine that required a biometric scan to access. Those contained Class I through IV meds. All of them were signed out for patients when nurses gave them out. Again though, it depended on where the medications were needed with the majority kept in the pharmacy. “Do we even know what we’re looking for here?”

  “Secured areas.”

  “Great. That helps.”

  He didn’t have a clue where those might be so he was looking for a sign for the pharmacy. Stopping and moaning would have been no use. At least if he could find something, anything, he could find some medications, and antivenom might be among them.

  “Keep your eye out for locked drug trolleys, crash carts, or a…”