by Jack Hunt
Once lost, it couldn’t be replenished.
But here it was before him, in the form of a boat.
And he put it to use, learning more about his kids.
Ryan gave directions from afar on what to do while Lily, Ren, and Josh worked together over the next week.
In the first week after arriving in Florida, he saw his father age approximately fourteen years.
After that, they watched the steady decline of his health like a flower withering in the sun. Instead of hiding away in a room as his mother had done, Ryan chose to be outside, soaking in the sunshine, feeling the breeze against his skin, and seeing them.
That’s all he wanted, to see and talk to them.
Nothing else mattered. Josh could see that now. He learned more about his father in those final days than he imagined he ever could have had they lived together. There was an urgency to the conversation, trying to cram years into a matter of days.
He wanted to know everything. Even the smallest details of their lives.
At some point, his father became weaker as the pathogen ravaged his body.
“Dad,” Josh said, waking him from his seat across the warehouse.
“What?” It took him a second to get his bearings. “For a moment there I thought I heard you call me dad.”
Josh smiled. “That’s because I did.” He smiled again as he stepped out of the way so his father could see. “It’s done.”
The boat was patched up and ready for the water.
Ryan nodded, a tired smile tugging at his lips. He struggled to rise to his feet, and instinctively Josh wanted to help but he couldn’t. Three weeks on and he hadn’t seen any symptoms in himself. Confident that whatever had been in his body was gone, he couldn’t risk being reinfected. His father had told him if he fell, not to help him up. Supporting himself using a walking cane, Ryan took a look at their handiwork. It wasn’t professional but it would keep out the water and ensure they got to wherever it was they were heading.
“Well, what are you standing there for? Let’s get in the water. Let’s see if this beauty can float,” his father said.
It wasn’t an easy task but everything they needed was in the warehouse and a trailer could be found down at the dock. After a lot of fiddling around using boat jacks and a long trailer, they managed to get it loaded. Using the truck, they hauled it down to the boat ramp and backed it into the water.
There were a few tense moments when they thought it might sink. That everything would go wrong, as it had throughout their journey.
But, that wasn’t to be.
Lily fist-pumped the air. “We did it! We did it!”
“Yeah, you did, butterfly,” Ryan replied, leaning against one of the wooden dock posts.
They spent one final night together, a supper that Josh wouldn’t forget. His father was adamant that there were to be no tears, no sadness or pity for him. That wasn’t the way he wanted to remember them. As hard as it was to keep it together, they did it for him. They drank, ate, laughed, and listened to some of their father’s bad jokes as he tried to brighten the mood and keep their minds distracted. He was good at that. Making light of the worst situation.
As the night wore on, and final words were shared, Lily passed out from tiredness and Josh carried her into the bedroom to sleep.
When he came out, Ren gestured that his father was on the porch drinking iced tea.
The door creaked as he opened it and joined him. Ryan rocked back and forth, looking out into the darkness, watching the waves crash on the shore.
“It really is beautiful out here.”
Josh nodded. “I remember.”
“What?”
“You said I was probably too young to remember when you brought me here.” He glanced at his father. “I remember.”
“Fishing?”
“No. A playground. A merry-go-round. Spinning wildly. Faster and faster. Feeling scared as I saw some kids fly off it. I remember holding on for dear life. I remember you telling me to let go. That you would catch me.”
“And then?”
“I let go and you caught me.”
His father smiled at him.
“I love you, son,” he said with weary eyes.
“I love you too, Dad.”
Josh saw his father in a whole new light. The pain he’d once held no longer stung. Strangely, in many ways, it was a gift. Without it, he wasn’t sure he would have felt as strongly as he did, and without it, he wouldn’t have had something to heal.
“You think you could get me another glass, son?” his father asked.
“Sure.”
“Thank you.”
He went back inside. Ren was in the kitchen, looking over a map they’d found. She’d circled some of the islands the boats were going to and was plotting out a path. “I think they went here!” she said pointing to the closest island.
“Right.” Josh was distracted, looking out at his father.
“You know, Josh, we can stay longer if you like. Until he passes.”
He nodded. “I know but I’m not sure that’s what he wants.”
“Well, the option is there.”
“Thank you.”
Josh filled up a fresh glass with more iced tea and headed back out. His father’s eyes were closed as he set it down on the table near him. Josh took a seat on the porch rocker, looked out, and then at his father. “Dad?”
There was no response.
Josh breathed in deeply, steadying his heart as tears welled in his eyes.
He’d never asked his father how he’d chosen to go. It wasn’t his place, as it wasn’t for his mother. It was their life. Instead, his father had told him when it was time he’d know and not to worry.
Josh couldn’t help but wonder if his father had waited until he’d fulfilled what he had to do before he let go. And that life was like that merry-go-round of his youth — a collection of people spinning fast through time, rotating through a limited number of days filled with fear and hope — a short-lived event that made the world seem blurry and the outcome frightening. And as riders watched people fall off seemingly before their time, others held on for dear life, fighting for one more day, scared of what might happen, only to discover when they let go, someone was there all along, ready to catch them.
Epilogue
A day later
As the motorboat glided through the sparkling waters of the Gulf Coast, Josh looked back at the beach cottage. A pang of sorrow made his heart ache, and yet at the same time, there was gratitude. The boat bounced, sending a spray of water up into his face as Josh said a silent goodbye. He squinted through the morning light at the collection of rocks stacked around a cross embedded in the earth. Following his father’s death, they’d covered him with multiple sheets and thick boat tarps and were able to tie the ends and drag him to a nearby grave.
It seemed fitting to give him a proper burial when so many hadn’t received one.
Lily was spared the end.
She awoke to a mound with wildflowers on it.
Josh told her that Ryan had gone to be with mom to keep her company. There was no way of knowing for sure but he liked to believe that she was there to greet him.
Standing there that morning, as a bright sun shone down, Lily held tightly to Josh and cried. He tried to not think about how she would remember the loss, only the time spent with him while alive.
It was at that moment he realized what his mother had told him. That it wasn’t the number of days they were given with a person, but how a person chose to spend them.
Hours later, they saw the first signs of the island, a dark blip on the horizon.
Dry Tortugas National Park was a small group of seven islands in the Gulf of Mexico about 67 miles west of Key West. All they could see was one island with a giant stone fort and lighthouse on it.
It was a sight to behold.
Octagon-shaped in appearance, Fort Jefferson was a massive unfinished coastal fortress that spread across sixteen acres on
the 100-square mile island. The island was only accessible by seaplane or boat, making it a perfect haven for survivors.
A red and white blur burst into view, followed by the roar of an engine. They hadn’t got within two miles of the national park when a Coastal Guard boat approached them at one hell of a clip. Onboard were armed National Guards. Ren powered down at the command of a booming voice over a megaphone.
They were told in no uncertain terms if they continued they would be shot.
Holding his hands high, Josh told them that they weren’t infected.
A grizzled soldier held his gun low while two others kept theirs aimed at them.
“Where are you from?”
“Franklin County. Our grandparents are meant to be on the island.”
Josh gave the names and one of them got on the radio.
A few tense minutes later, they were given instructions to follow them around to the Fort Jefferson Boat Pier. Josh’s grandparents weren’t there to greet them. The island inhabitants weren’t taking any chances. After the boat was moored, they were hustled into a quarantine zone. They would spend the next seventy-two hours under observation before being released to their grandparents’ care on the fourth day.
When they came out, Ren didn’t join them.
It was discovered after a battery of tests that she was asymptomatic. She was the first of her kind. She’d told them she’d gotten the aging from her brother but her body wasn’t showing any symptoms. The health experts on the island had felt that she could be the key to creating a vaccine.
It made sense now in hindsight. Her purposely choosing to keep her distance from everyone. Her incessant need to sanitize her hands. It wasn’t OCD, it was the fear that someone might catch it.
They planned to keep her separated while they studied her.
Josh and Lily soon came to discover the aging had spread across the world, and efforts were being made to reach a solution so they could avoid genocide.
Somehow, it still felt unfair.
They’d made it. They were safe. But many weren’t.
Here, on the island, people lived in isolation cut off from the world. Would that ever change? Only time could tell. And right now, thanks to his father, he had more of that to spare.
“Josh. Oh, sweetheart,” Gigi said, hugging him tightly.
From behind him, footfalls fell fast and heavy.
“Lily!” Gigi scooped her up.
“Hey, kiddo.” Ben approached Josh and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your father?”
Josh drew in a long breath, trying to keep his emotions in check as he shook his head.
It was hard. He was exhausted not by the journey but by the weight of worry he’d carried.
After they reunited with their grandparents, he couldn’t bring himself to speak of the details of those final hours. Those last minutes with his father felt private and he knew that he would keep them to himself for a long time. Being there for the passing of both parents had taught him a lot about life and death, and the mistakes made between. Both were flawed individuals and yet despite it all, they loved them and cared deeply enough to see them survive.
As for how they died.
Well, each of them let go in their own way.
And the way he saw things, no one was guaranteed anything in this life. There was no control over the outcome. Life was a precious gift. A beautifully tragic gift that could be embraced or wasted.
He planned to embrace it for as many days as he was given until it was his time to let go.
For that’s what his parents had shown him. It wasn’t the number of days allotted to a person but what a person chose to do with them while they were alive.
THANK YOU FOR READING
If you enjoyed that be sure to check out The Lookout, Rules of Survival, and All That Remains. Please take a second to leave a review, it’s really appreciated. Thanks kindly, Jack.
A Plea
Thank you for reading The Aging. If you enjoyed the book, I would really appreciate it if you would consider leaving a review. Without reviews, an author’s books are virtually invisible on the retail sites. It also lets me know what you liked. It also motivates me to write more books. You can leave a review by visiting the book’s page. I would greatly appreciate it. It only takes a couple of seconds.
Thank you — Jack Hunt
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About the Author
Jack Hunt is the International Bestselling Author of over fifty novels. Jack lives on the East coast of North America. If you haven’t joined Jack Hunt’s Private Facebook Group you can request to join by clicking here now. This gives readers a way to chat with Jack, see cover reveals, enter contests and receive giveaways, and stay updated on upcoming releases. There is also his main facebook page below if you want to browse.
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