by Dawn, M. K.
The sprightly nurse had already made if halfway down the hall when Axel stepped out of the waiting room. Either she hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. By the looks of the other doctors and nurses sprinting down the hall, the latter seemed more probable.
He picked up the pace, dodging those who were too consumed in their work to notice his presence. For a small-town hospital, they had a ton of patients. Each room he passed appeared occupied, and several had patients strapped to the bed. Armed security guards walked the halls.
The news he’d been watching in the waiting room was national. Maybe a local disaster happened? That would explain why they were so busy.
The nurse stopped at the last door. “She’s in here. Unconscious. Bed by the window. Push the red button if you need something, though it might be awhile. We’re swamped.”
“Thanks,” he said as she walked off.
Two other unconscious patients occupied the room besides Queenie.
The first man couldn’t have been over twenty. With no obvious signs of physical injury, he looked like he’d just stumbled in here to take a nap. The only thing off Axel saw were half a dozen black streaks running up his neck from underneath his gown. For all he knew, those could have been from a tattoo.
The second man was a different story. His ebony skin had a gray tint to it that Axel had never seen before. Bald spots speckled his head as if the hair had been pulled out by the handfuls.
But the most disturbing thing about his appearance was his nails. Axel never considered himself refined. After his stint in the military, he’d taken up construction work. He spent his day outdoors, and it showed. Even as dirty as he got, a quick shower with a washrag and an off-brand bar of soap did the job. But as little as he cared about his outward appearance, he never let his nails get as long as this poor man’s. Even more strange, they grew to a point and appeared to be sharp as hell. They reminded him of claws, as ridiculous as that sounded.
Maybe he cut them like that on purpose, but this man must have been pushing seventy. What purpose would they serve?
Blowing out his cheeks, Axel moved to Queenie’s bed and drew the curtains, determined to focus on his friend.
He dragged a chair beside her bed and sat on the edge, taking her hand in his. Unlike most of the other bikers he rode with, he’d known Queenie for years. As one of his father’s oldest friends and army buddies, she was like family. Seeing her laying in this bed, throat wrapped in bandages—
The phone in his pocket vibrated, putting an end to the depressing train of thought. “Hello?”
“It’s Gunner.” A tightness in his voice replaced his usual light tone. “What hospital are you at?”
“County General, in the town of—” The young man groaned at the sounds of Axel’s voice. “Give me a second to step out of the room. I know it’s just outside of Myrefall.”
“Myrefall? Why the hell didn’t they take her to the closest hospital?”
Axel pushed open the door to the stairwell to get away from the noise. “Yeah, they called in to several closer hospitals on the way, but none of them could handle any more trauma patients.”
“What the hell kind of rinky-dink hospital system does this state have?”
Axel stepped to the side as two men in bloodied scrubs flew up the stairs and bolted through the doors. “I don’t think it’s the hospitals. There’s some new crazy flu going around. Queenie’s forced to share a room with two other guys.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Okay, I guess. The nurse didn’t really tell me much. Haven’t seen a doctor yet. They stopped the bleeding and closed the wounds. She’s not hooked on any crazy machines or anything, which is good.”
“You hanging in there?” A softness laced his voice. “You know, after everything?”
Axel’s breathing quickened. “Fine. How long before you get here?”
Gunner repeated the question to one of the others before answering. “Three hours. Try to get some rest, you hear me?”
“Yeah. See you then.”
Axel hung up the phone and returned to the chair next to Queenie’s bed. He popped up the footrest and leaned back, closing his eyes. The stress of the day had taken a toll. A quick nap until the others arrived would help clear his head. Maybe when he woke up, Queenie could tell him what attacked her.
***
The sound of a screaming monitor and sneakers slapping the tile floor jolted Axel awake. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, the dim hospital room blurring in and out of focus.
It took him a second to remember how he’d found himself back in this room, sleeping in the familiar but uncomfortable chair.
Old memories faded as the new came back. Queenie had been attacked, and he was waiting for the others to get here.
He looked at the digital clock, which read 7:00 a.m. He rubbed his eyes again. “That can’t be right.”
“Hold him down!” a man screamed over the noise that woke him. “I need to give him a sedative.”
Axel pulled back the curtain. The elderly man in the middle bed thrashed about, clawing and snapping at anything that moved.
One man got tossed to the ground as three others struggled to keep the patient still enough so the doctor could get the needle in his arm.
Axel rushed to the doctor's side. “What can I do?”
“Step back!” he ordered.
“You need help.” Axel grabbed hold of the flailing man’s wrist. “I can hold his arm still. Let the others take care of the body.”
“Fine.” The doctor removed the cap of the needle. “Just try not to get bit.”
Axel tightened his grip as the other four held the man’s legs and shoulders still. “Doesn’t this bed have some sort of straps?”
“We ran out of those last night.” The doctor wrapped a tourniquet around the man’s arm and stuck the needle into the bulging vein. “It should only take a second to kick in.”
Two minutes and a second round of sedatives later, the patient was out.
“Anyone hurt?” the doctor demanded. “Bit? Any sort of injury?”
The four orderlies shook their heads.
“Good.” The doctor leaned against the bed. “Go see if there are any open beds in the secure rooms. He can’t stay in here.”
They hurried off without a word.
“You okay there, Doc?” Axel asked.
Sweat beaded across his forehead. “James Hildebrand.”
“Axel.” He found a clean cup and filled it with cold water. “Here, drink this. You look like you’re about to pass out. You’re not hurt, are you?”
James took a sip. “Thank you. And no, I’m one of the lucky ones who haven’t been attacked.”
Axel studied the sickly man. “What’s wrong with him?”
“My father is a sick man.” James covered his eyes with his hands. “The CDC is saying it's similar to the flu virus.”
“That’s one hell of a flu.”
James set the cup on the table. “If it’s even the flu.”
“What else would it be?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” He straightened his jacket. “Last night I admitted my father with these symptoms. He was the only one. Today there are over fifty.”
“Jesus.” The man looked familiar. “Is he the one who got sick at the Myrefall church festival?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Britney’s husband.” Axel snapped his fingers. “What’s his name? John. He helped your father home.”
“That’s right.” James narrowed his eyes. “I need to call her.”
“Everything okay?”
James blew out a weighted breath. “I hope so.”
Axel looked back at Queenie. “What about my friend? I haven’t seen a doctor, unless they came in while I slept. I know she’s not sick with this virus, but a wild animal attacked her, and her wounds were severe.”
James peered around the curtain. “You sure she wasn’t sick before she got attacked?”
“Not that I know of, and she’s not one to keep stuff like that to herself.”
An orderly returned. “Found a spot for him.”
“Thank you, Abel. I’ll be right behind you.”
Abel wheeled the unconscious man out of the room.
“I need to go. I have a lot more patients who need looking after.” James took one more look at Queenie. “She’s sick. It’s hard to tell how far along the virus is, but it’ll only get worse before it gets better.”
“Do they get better?”
“We’re still waiting on lab work to determine exactly what we’re dealing with. Anyway, thanks for your help.” James reached out his hand but yanked it back again. “On second thought, maybe we should keep physical contact to a minimum.”
Axel studied James’s hand. A drop of blood bubbled from a small puncture wound on the side of his finger. “You okay there, Doc?”
He rushed to the sink and ran his hand under a steaming stream of water. “This is nothing. I caught my hand on an exposed bolt on the bed rail.”
“Oh.” Axel had only seen his hands on the patient.
“It happens. I should get going. Take care.”
“You too,” Axel mumbled as James hurried out of the room. He didn’t want to be paranoid, but the way James’s face had sobered when he saw the mark chilled him to the core. Sure, the flu sucked, and this strain had some shitty side effects, but James’s reaction still felt off somehow.
Axel shook off the uneasiness nagging at his brain and headed into the bathroom. After a quick use of the facilities and a splash of cold water on his face, he didn’t feel any better about the situation but could push his concerns aside for now. There were more important things to worry about. Like why the rest of the bikers hadn’t shown up.
He found his phone stuffed in the side of the chair and checked it for messages, but got nothing but a black screen. In his exhaustion he hadn’t even thought to stick it on the charger he had in his bag.
Still didn’t explain why the others hadn’t shown up. Wasn’t like them to not check in on one of their own.
He found a spare outlet and plugged in his phone. A couple minutes and he’d have enough power to check for missed messages.
The phone came to life and the notifications began, one after another, echoing off the bare walls. A dozen text messages. Double the missed calls. And a voice mail, which he would check first, as it was the most recent.
A very annoyed Gus rambled off a slew of swear words before getting to the reason they hadn’t shown up. They’d arrived early yesterday evening, well within the hours of the posted visitor times, but had been denied access, as the hospital had implemented a family-only policy for visitors.
Axel had heard nothing about that, but he’d also told the staff he was Queenie’s nephew.
He sent a quick text to Gus asking where they were and when they wanted to meet up.
Gus replied almost immediately: the motel across the street, and they’d meet him outside the hospital in five minutes.
A diner would have been better—he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning—but he guessed that could wait.
He took one last look at Queenie and his heart clenched. James had said she’d contracted the virus going around, but Axel hadn’t noticed her symptoms until that moment. Her once tan skin now had the same ashy tint as the other men in the room.
Strange how fast the infection took over. She’d acted fine before they left Myrefall, her normal exuberant self. But he also knew all too well how these sorts of things didn’t manifest symptoms right away either.
The question remained on how she got infected. James had warned them not to get bit, which, until being attacked in the woods, Queenie hadn’t been. If a random person had bitten her, they all would have heard about it a hundred times over.
Was it possible this virus was airborne and the doctors just didn’t know it yet? The thought turned his stomach. He’d been in this room, in this hospital, since yesterday.
“Shit,” he muttered as he left the room, taking the stairs down to the first floor.
He opened the door and checked the handle. As he suspected, the door needed a keycard to open it from the outside. He stuck a small rock between the door and the frame, careful to not make it obvious the door stood open but enough so he wouldn’t be locked out.
The atmosphere outside could only be described as chaotic. Dozens of people had gathered, lingering around the front entrance. Most were huddled in their individual groups, but there were a few who’d taken up screaming at the poor orderly.
He was glad he’d propped open the stairwell door. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with that mess.
As he scanned the grounds, he spotted Gus and a few others sprinting across the street in his direction.
Axel gestured to the front entrance and then headed to the back of the hospital, where a crowd had also formed. Two security guards stood watch, preventing people from blocking the emergency entrance.
He’d never seen anything like this. Whatever was going on in this town, it was time to get the hell out.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Are you sure you’re feelin’ okay?” Britney watched as her stubborn husband sipped his coffee. He hadn’t even attempted to scrounge up some breakfast or asked if she planned on making anything.
“Fine,” he mumbled.
Britney snorted. “Well, you look like shit.”
Molly snickered. “Mommy said s-h-i-t.”
Britney whirled around. “What have we told you about spellin’ bad words?”
“Sorry,” Molly said with a sly grin.
“Hurry and eat your breakfast before you miss the bus.”
“Can’t you just take us?” Blake whined. “I hate the bus. It’s so slow and takes forever to get to school.”
Britney studied John. As much as she needed to run a few errands in town, she didn’t want to leave him alone. Even if he agreed to stay in bed until she got back, chances were good he wouldn’t. Not on purpose, but while lying around, he would remember something he needed to do. Something quick. And one quick chore would lead to another and another until resting was the furthest thing from his mind.
“I have things to do around here.” Britney gathered their bowls and dumped them in the sink. “So you’re ridin’ the bus.”
“Hey,” Carson complained, “I wasn’t done.”
“Then you should have gotten dressed faster.” The alarm on Britney’s phone went off, a ten-minute warnin’ before the bus reached their gate. “Grab your backpacks and get to the truck.”
The kids didn’t move.
“Now!”
They slung themselves out of the chairs and lumbered toward the door.
“I’ll be right back.” Britney brushed the back of her hand against John’s forehead. “You’re burnin’ up. Go back to bed.”
“Yeah, yeah. As soon as I check on the calf.” He stood and stretched.
“I’ll do that when I get back. You need to rest.”
“Nah.” John waved her off. “I’ve been sicker than this, and it never stopped me before. Not going to stop me now.”
The truck horn blared, and Britney checked the clock. “Shit. I got to go.”
She ran for the door and hopped in the driver side of the already-running diesel. “How many times do I have to tell you not to start the truck? And don’t honk at me! That’s just rude.”
She sped down the dirt road until they reached the gate. Carson jumped out, unlocked and opened it so she could pull through.
The bus was nowhere in sight, which meant either the driver was running late or they had missed it—again.
“Can you take us to school now?” Molly asked.
“Give it a few more minutes. It’s a little foggy this mornin’, and he might just be runnin’ behind.”
“Mom,” Carson huffed. “The bus always comes at 7:00 and it’s 7:02.”
“Which is what runnin’ behind means.” She tapped her fin
gers on the steering wheel. “Come on, bus.”
“Mommy?” Molly leaned forward. “Is Daddy going to be okay?”
Britney brushed the fallen red strands of hair out of her daughter’s face and kissed her on the forehead. “Daddy’s goin’ to be fine. He just has a cold or the flu or somethin’.”
“Is that what’s wrong with Mr. Thomas?”
“Um….” She didn’t know how to answer. He had attacked John and bit his arm. Not that the kids knew what happened, but still, their little town thrived on gossip. More times than she could count, one of the kids had come home telling her things about the people they knew that they had no business knowing. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with Mr. Thomas.”
“Look, here comes the bus.” Carson threw open his door.
“Thank God.” Britney helped Molly and Blake down from the lifted truck, then hugged and kissed the twins. “Have a wonderful day. Carson, you at least goin’ to tell me bye?”
He shuffled to her side and wrapped a limp arm around her waist. “Bye.”
“Love you guys.”
They rushed to the open door of the bus and climbed in with Britney close on their heels. She peered inside and waved at the substitute bus driver she knew from church. “Mornin’, Sally. Where’s Jerry today?” In the five years her kids had been riding the bus, the man had never missed a day.
“Sick. Caught the nasty bug going around.”
“Oh.” Britney’s eyes wandered to the side of the bus. Molly and Blake waved their little hands out of the window. “When did he come down with it?”
“Sometime this weekend.” Sally grabbed the handle of the door. “I need to get going. Have a nice day.”
Britney took a step back, and the door closed.
“Bye, Mommy!” Molly called as the bus drove away.
Britney waved back, her heart pounding. The virus going around seemed to have some horrible side effects. And if her kids found themselves near someone with those symptoms?
She pushed away the thought as she climbed back into the truck. If the virus affected the school, they’d better let the parents know. Maybe she’d call when she got home and see if Jerry’s case was an isolated incident or if others were sick. As important as school was, she didn’t want to risk her kids' safety if this virus became an epidemic. It was bad enough that John started displaying symptoms yesterday, and he looked even worse today. She should probably separate him from her and the kids until he felt better, in case it was airborne.
