by Willow Rose
“I’m outside the hospital, Dad. Josie’s not doing so well. Do you want me to come home to you?”
“No,” he said. “Don’t you dare leave your post. Josie is the most important right now. I’m gonna be fine.”
“I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” I sighed and glanced toward the closed doors. The security guard was standing right on the other side of them. “It’s not like they’ll let me see her; I just feel like this is where I should be, you know? I told Jean I was here. I keep thinking that if she’s about to die, then they’ll come to get me, right? I won’t risk losing my chance at saying goodbye if there is one. I can’t say goodbye to my daughter on Facetime. I simply refuse to.”
“You won’t have to. I’m sure you won’t. God hasn’t brought you this far to give up on you now.”
“I’m not so sure anymore,” I said. “I’m losing faith here, Dad. Why did Josie have to be infected in the first place? Why couldn’t it have been me? She has a bad heart. Why is God not removing all this? Why isn’t He curing her if He allegedly loves me so much? I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I can believe in Him coming through for me this time.”
“So is His love for you based on what you see Him do for you?” my dad asked. “Is that how you can tell how much He loves you? You know that in this life you’ll have trials; He never promised us life would be easy, that it would be a stroll in the park. But He does promise He’ll get you through it.”
“I’m not in the mood for this right now, Dad. The preaching. It’s just not helping. And don’t tell me that God has a plan for all of us, for Josie and me. I don’t want to hear it. I’m angry at God right now, and there isn’t anything you can say to change that.”
“That’s okay, son.”
I hung up, feeling heavy-hearted. I sat in the rain, phone clenched between my hands, my stomach in knots. I wanted to pray at that moment, but somehow, I couldn’t. I was so angry with God that the words remained locked in my throat. All I had were tears—tears streaming down my cheeks, while my head leaned against the wall behind me.
Chapter 53
As I sat there, soaked by the rain, eyes closed, I suddenly sensed that I wasn’t alone. I opened my eyes and looked up at a man standing close to me with his arm stretched out toward me. I blinked a few times to better see his face in the scarce light from the lamps outside the hospital building.
“Old Man Jones?”
“I thought that was you, Detective.”
He smiled. In his hand, he was holding a brown bag. He moved it toward me, and I took it, then looked inside.
It was a meatball sandwich.
“For you, my friend,” he said and winked. “Looks like you need it more than I do.”
“I can’t take your food,” I said.
“Too fancy to accept food from homeless people, Detective?” he said, lifting his eyebrows. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
I scoffed and sent him half a smile.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. Truly.”
“Thought you might. Spending the night, are we?”
“I guess. My daughter’s in there. I want to be as close to her as possible.”
Old Man Jones chuckled, then whistled. Much to my surprise, he hadn’t come alone. Behind him came out several other local homeless people. I knew their faces well from the streets and shelters. All of them came carrying things. One had a beat-up patio chair, another a big piece of cardboard and a blanket, while someone had brought me bottled water and a small bag of chips. All their gifts were carefully placed on the pavement in front of me.
“That should help you get through the night,” Old Man Jones said. “The cardboard can shelter you from the rain if you put it up at an angle. You’ll figure it out. You’re after all a detective, right?”
“Right,” I said, voice breaking, tears springing to my eyes. I couldn’t believe these people would do all this for me. It was such a grand gesture; I had no words for it—none that would suffice.
“Thank you so much.”
“No problem, Detective. We take care of one another in the streets; it doesn’t matter where you come from,” Old Man Jones said. He nodded in greeting, then turned on his heel and walked away without another word. His friends followed him into the night. I stared at them as they left, thinking about all the things I should have said and all the things I should have done to help these people, then wondered where they’d spend the night.
I placed the cardboard at an angle to block out the rain out made a part of it into a roof. I then sat in the old patio chair and ate the sandwich. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was and gulped it down in a matter of minutes. I drank water greedily and ate the chips as well, then covered myself with the blanket and tried to get some sleep, listening to the rain drumming on my cardboard roof.
Chapter 54
I slept surprisingly well despite the circumstances and woke up when someone called my name. As I opened my eyes, I realized the sun had risen, and it was already day. The rain had done what it came to do and left. I gasped, startled before I looked in the direction of the voice.
“Harry! Harry!”
It was Jean. She was rushing toward me, her shoes clacking on the pavement. She looked exhausted, which I assumed she was. I wondered if she even knew how many hours she had been working.
“Harry! I tried to call you; why didn’t you pick up!”
I looked at my phone in my hand. It was dead.
“No more battery,” I said, then realized that she was coming toward me, wearing no face covering at all. No mask, no protective shield, and she had taken off her suit. I stood to my feet, jolted upright, but before I could say anything, she jumped me and threw her arms around my neck.
She kissed me.
I pulled away, almost gasping.
“Wh…what are you doing?”
She looked at me, surprised. “Haven’t you heard?”
“Haven’t I heard what? I have been here all night, camped out, waiting for news about Josie.”
“Harry. It’s amazing. They found a cure for the Florida Flu. They found a treatment that really works. It’s been through all the experimental testing and trials over the past few weeks, and the results were so good that the FDA has approved it. Some rich people in New York got together with a bunch of scientists and sponsored its development. And they moved fast. Tens of thousands of shipments were delivered all over the nation. We received a shipment of the treatment last night and started giving it to our worst-off patients. After less than ten hours of receiving this drug intravenously, they’re all improving—all of them. They say that from now on, if you come down with this virus, if it’s caught early on, then you’ll just need a pill, and then it’ll be over in a day. Isn’t it wonderful?”
My heart was beating so fast now; it felt like it would explode. I grabbed Jean by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.
“I can’t believe it. And Josie?”
“Just got taken off the ventilator. You can go see her now.”
Jean didn’t need to say that twice. I pulled off my mask that had been hanging around my neck, then threw it in the trash on my way inside, running past the security guard, who did nothing but smile and wave at me.
I ran to the elevator, Jean coming in behind me. She helped me find Josie on the third floor, where the atmosphere was more than amazing. Nurses were dancing, and doctors clapping as a long row of kids were rolled out into the hallway, leaving the ICU. The kids were smiling, and some were crying, others laughing.
Jean grabbed my hand and led me to a room, then opened the door. Inside, Josie was sitting in a bed. She was so pale, it was scary, but her eyes were alive and smiling.
“Dad!”
I ran to her, grabbed her in my arms, and hugged her so tight that I feared I might crush her fragile body.
“I can’t believe it, Josie. You’re better. You’re better.”
“The medicine worked, Dad.”
“I got some for your father
, too,” Jean said and handed me a box of pills. “I spoke to a doctor about him a few minutes ago, and he said these would work. They are for patients who can still breathe on their own. It should do the trick for him. And I heard from a colleague earlier this morning that Al has come out of surgery, and she’s going to make it. And so is James Hudson, even though he’ll probably not walk again. It’s the day of miracles.”
I exhaled, satisfied, finally able to let go of the worry. Al was going to be fine; Hudson would be handed over to the FBI and was no longer my problem. Candice would get to go back to Bryan and meet him in real life, and hopefully, they’d like that just as much as dating through closed windows. The only thing that hadn’t been solved was the story of Reese and her baby. I promised myself at that moment that I’d do all I could to help her in her fight to get her baby—and my niece—back.
I pulled Jean into a kiss.
“It sure is.”
“Ew,” Josie said when she saw us kiss. “Get a room, will you?”
That made me laugh, but then I paused.
“You know what? She’s saying something.”
Jean gave me a puzzled look.
“What exactly is she saying?”
“Maybe we should get a room together.”
A frown grew between her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
I looked down at Jean and smiled. “How about we get married, and you come to live with us?”
That made Josie’s face light up. “Oh, yes, that would be totally awesome. Please, say yes, Jean, please.”
She smiled and bit her lip.
“Really? Harry, you’re serious? You’re proposing to me?”
I looked at her, heart pounding. This wasn’t exactly how I had planned to propose to Jean, but it just happened. It felt like the right thing to do at this moment. Life was short. We had no time to waste.
My eyes teared up, and I dropped down on one knee. I was shaking.
“Jean Wilcox…will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She stared at me, mouth gaping, then nodded. Tears sprang to her eyes. Her voice broke as she spoke.
“I suppose there’s no harm in that.” She sniffled and fought her tears. “Yes, Harry. I would love to marry you.”
I rose to my feet, grabbed her in my arms, and kissed her again. As our lips parted, I sighed deeply and looked at Josie and reached for her hand, so she’d feel included.
“This is good. Then the next time there’s a pandemic, we’ll all be in the same household. We won’t have to be kept apart.”
Jean gave me a look, with both her eyebrows lifted. Her blissful smile was instantly gone. Both hands landed on her hips.
“Don’t you dare talk about another pandemic, Harry Hunter, when we just got rid of this one. I don’t even want to hear that word or any other words that have to do with this. Words like virus, social distancing, and flattening the curve are banned for a very long time, do you hear me?”
That made me laugh.
“Loud and clear, my dear. Loud and clear.”
THE END
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing Never Walk Alone (Harry Hunter#4). I hope you enjoyed it. As I am writing this, we are all in the middle of lockdown due to the Coronavirus or Covid19. There is no cure or vaccine yet, unfortunately.
If I had written this book at another time, before all this craziness happened to our world, it wouldn’t have been believable. But now, a lot of these things have become our reality: overwhelmed hospitals, lack of equipment to treat patients, people unable to say goodbye to their relatives, some of them having to do so on Facetime, all of us being told to stay inside and not socialize. It has truly been a crazy time, unlike anything even I could have imagined.
When I wanted to write another Harry Hunter book, I knew I couldn’t just write a normal thriller or mystery in a usual setting. Not with what was happening in the world. There was too much going on around me, and it felt bland—like it didn’t really matter. Somehow, I had to incorporate a virus or what is happening in the world right now into my story. I had to write about what I was going through, what we all were going through. I write about the world I am in, and this is our normal now. Who even knows what normal will look like from now on? Hopefully, this won’t go on forever, and we’ll be able to get back to—if not our old normal, then a new normal—soon enough.
What inspired me to write this book about a new virus, slightly different from Covid19, was actually Reese’s story. I read about patient zero in Italy who woke up after three weeks in a coma and had no idea what had happened and how many people he had infected, including his own father, who had since died. The guilt must have been overwhelming. I just knew I had to write about a person who went through what he did, and so it became Harry’s sister, Reese’s story. If you want to know more, you can read about the Italian patient here:
https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2020/04/italy-patient-one-family-coronavirus-covid19/610039/
In the book, I mention Nesera Gesera and how some people believe that this virus was planned and that it is a way to start a total global reset. That is actually not something I have made up. Some people believe in this. There are many videos on YouTube about this, and you can also read about it here:
http://www.blissfulvisions.com/articles/GESARA-NESARA.html
Also, the bunker where they find Candice and Bobby exists. It’s not outside of Miami, but in Mount Dora, also in Florida. And it was actually built by twenty-five wealthy families in the sixties who wanted to survive a nuclear war. Here’s a link to some photos of it and all the amazing information about it (pictures are at the bottom):
https://www.abandonedfl.com/the-mount-dora-catacombs/
Thank you again for reading my books. I hope you’re staying healthy and safe. Don’t forget to leave a review if you can.
Take care,
Willow
About the Author
The Queen of Scream aka Willow Rose is a #1 Amazon Best-selling Author and an Amazon ALL-star Author of more than 80 novels. She writes Mystery, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense, Horror, Supernatural thrillers, and Fantasy.
Willow's books are fast-paced, nail-biting page-turners with twists you won't see coming.
Several of her books have reached the Kindle top 20 of ALL books in the US, UK, and Canada.
She has sold more than four million books all over the world.
Willow lives on Florida's Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. When she is not writing or reading, you will find her surfing and watch the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
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DON’T LIE TO ME
Excerpt
For a special sneak peak of Willow Rose's Bestselling Mystery Novel DON’T LIE TO ME turn to the next page.
Prologue
Camp Seminole Springs, Florida
Prologue
"Mom. I don't want to stay at the camp for two weeks. I want to go home."
Sophie Williams choked back a sob as a tear left her right eye and rolled down her cheek. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry. She had promised herself she would complete this. But hearing her mother's voice on the phone had made her lose it. She couldn't hold it back anymore.
"I know, sweetie," her mother said. "I miss you too, baby. But it�
��s only for two weeks. You'll be fine."
It was the first time Sophie had been away from her mother for this long. She was the one who had wanted to go when their scout leader had told them about the camp. Sophie had immediately known that she wanted to do this. But the other girls had been so mean on the bus ride there, and she had ended up sitting all alone without anyone to talk to. Now she felt lonely and, even though they weren't allowed to call home, she had snuck outside while they were eating dinner and walked back to her tent and found her phone in her backpack. She wanted to hear her mother's voice, just for a few seconds. But once she did, the tears piled up, and she felt so homesick it almost hurt.
"You'll be fine," her mother repeated. "It'll be over before you know it, and then you'll want to go again next year. I went through the same thing when I was your age."
"I'd much rather be at home and go surfing all summer," Sophie said.
"I know, baby, but you need to do other stuff too. You need to socialize with other children. Besides, you were the one who told me you wanted this, remember? You wanted to go to this camp with your new friends."
"But they're not my friends anymore," Sophie sighed.
"Really?" her mother said sounding tired. "That was fast."
Sophie knew her mother was disappointed. Sophie had never been good at making friends. That was why her mother suggested she join Girl Scouts. Sophie was homeschooled so she could focus on her competitive surfing on a daily basis and attend contests all over the country on the weekends. It was practically all she did in her life, and she loved it, but you didn't make any friends at surf contests. She would chat with other kids while waiting for her heat to start, yes, but in the end, they were competitors, and there was no room for friends. It was a lonely world for a twelve-year-old, especially since she was so young, yet better than most who were much older. Being a Girl Scout would be good for her, her mother had said. Plus, it would teach Sophie skills that would be beneficial later in life.
