by A. R. Shaw
“I swear to you, I’m a friend. It’s only me here. I haven’t even talked with anyone since this began.”
“Look, I don’t need your help. I just need a few more days here to get my girls well and then we’ll leave.” She continued a few more steps away.
He nodded. “Okay, stay as long as you need to. Seriously, it’s just me and I would never hurt you. If you need me to look at your daughters, I’m right here. Just knock on the door.”
She glanced at him like he was crazy.
“You sure you don’t want to refill the water?” he asked, pointing at the empty pot.
Now she was annoyed and drenched. “I have enough for now,” she said and pointed toward her backpack.
“Okay,” he said, getting the hint, and backed away with a charming smile on his face.
She lowered her gun and stalked back to the house, knowing he watched her every more.
31
Chances
“Did you feed Sally?” Mae said in what Sloane feared was delirium. She was thrashing with her fever and making statements that had no bearing on their current situation. It worried her even more. She’d already used half the water she brought with her and had given each of the girls medication to lower their fever but nothing helped.
“Mom, we have to do something more. This isn’t working,” Wren cried while rocking back and forth on her knees beside her sister.
Sloane hovered over both girls. Nicole had already gone through another convulsive event and barely became conscious enough to swallow water and the medication that Sloane coaxed down her throat.
“What else can we do?” Wren implored.
Sloane rubbed a hand through her hair in frustration. She held her palm over her mouth considering her only alternative. It was a risk and she hated to take it but like Wren said, they were running out of options.
“Wren, I’m going to go and get the doctor I told you about earlier.”
“The stranger? Mom, no!”
“I don’t know what else to do. They’re getting worse, not better. We have to take a chance on him.”
“Okay, okay. Please hurry back. I’m afraid what will happen when you’re gone.”
Sloane put on her coat and kissed the top of Wren’s head. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay, Mom. Hurry.”
Then Sloane didn’t dare look back. The darkness had descended hours ago and she held her weapon tight as she ran again from the back door to the living quarters on the side of the barn.
She barely knocked when he opened the door. He held a paperback book in one hand and the ambient light of the fireplace glowed around him. “Is there something wrong?” he asked with concern etched on his face.
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Please, can you come and look at my girls? Their fever…I can’t get it down.” And in shame Sloane was horrified that tears were springing from her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away as quickly as she could. She couldn’t help their persistent descent.
“I’ll grab my bag,” he said and left the door ajar while he disappeared inside for a moment, trusting her when she would never trust him. He showed back up momentarily with one arm inside a jacket. In his hand he held a canvas bag.
He ushered her off the porch and they walked quickly back to the main house. “How long have they been running a temp?”
All the days seemed to scramble together. “A few days now?”
“Did they have a cold or a virus before you left?”
“They…were inside a hideout when soldiers threw in these smoke bombs. It killed our dogs but I got to the girls in time to pull them out. I think it’s related to that somehow.”
“Okay, and that was two to three days ago?”
“Yes.” He was clearly in doctor mode now. She hated it how doctors demanded to know down to the day you started your period or the first day of a virus event, etc.… “It started off with a sore throat and then a fever.” They reached the back door and as they entered Wren stared back at the tall stranger in their midst. “This is my daughter Wren. She was also in the bunker when the gas struck but it didn’t affect her as badly.”
“Hi Wren. I’m Dr. Kent. You don’t need to be scared. I won’t harm you or your sisters.”
Wren just stared and nodded at him but she was clearly still very protective of her sisters.
Dr. Kent came forward with his sight locked on the jumble of blankets in the gray room, intermixed with two feverish girls.
“Mom,” Nicole said.
Wren looked to Sloane and said, “She keeps calling to her mom.”
Sloane held her palm over her mouth again. She had to get hold of herself. Getting emotional right now was the last thing that would help their circumstances.
In a very calming tone, Dr. Kent explained, “Sometimes when our fevers are so high we tend to hallucinate and dream. It’s the brain coping with the high fever.”
Wren nodded as if understanding why they were talking about deceased loved ones helped her cope with the worry of possibly losing her sisters to death’s grip.
He opened his bag and took out a thermometer. He held it up to the light and shook the mercury down. “Back to the basics. My electronic one broke,” he said with a smile. “Wren, could you remove their blankets?” Sloane assumed he was trying to give Wren something to do in order to help her cope with the situation.
Sloane continued to stand behind the man, watching him closely. She wanted to trust him but was no longer capable of believing the best of any man. Nothing was left to chance when it came to her daughters. She stood even as the man worked with her hand over her Glock, though it appeared to her that the doctor before her wasn’t even armed, as far as she knew.
“Well, I’m not sure what caused it but it certainly sounds like pneumonia,” he said after he removed his stethoscope from Nicole’s chest. “Both of them.” His look was grim and pensive. “I’m afraid they need round-the-clock care. You shouldn’t take them anywhere. I’ve seen cases like this and it takes weeks to recover.” He held his hands up. “I swear I’m not giving you a line. I’ve got antibiotics to give them but even with those, this will take time to recover from. You can’t take them anywhere for a while, I hope you understand that. Neither of them will be able to stand for long periods of time, let alone walk for days, even if they start to recover from this tonight. The first thing we need to do is lower their temperature. Do you trust me enough to let me help them?”
Not feeling as if she had much choice in the matter she said, “Can you?” But he was suddenly distracted from answering when Nicole again went into convulsions. Her young body was so wracked by fever her brain went into shock trying to relieve itself. He gently slipped his hand behind her sweat-covered head and then tilted her onto her side. Then he looked to Wren’s startled face and said gently, “It started to snow earlier and I saw the pots outside. Could you please gather one of them, or perhaps two if you can manage it?”
Wren scurried away and he turned his attention to Sloane while he held Nicole as she went through the seizing. “I didn’t want to say this in front of your older daughter but…they could die. This is serious. I can’t promise you that I can see them through this but I’ll try.”
Sloane had not removed her eyes from Nicole in what looked like the throes of death. “Please, please help them.”
Wren returned with the pails of snow and he acted quickly. Taking off their clothes and packing the snow around them, he let it melt and soak into their blankets underneath them. He emptied the first pail and then handed it to Sloane. “Keep them coming. We have to cool them down quickly.”
She ran to the back door, soon followed by Wren doing the same task.
A short time later, both girls looked as if they were making snow angels in the gray room with the white snow packed between their extremities and full buckets to replace what snow melted from their body heat.
He took their temperatures again and both girls showed improvement. “It’s not
enough. We need to keep it up until it’s at least lower than 103 degrees. Let’s get more water into them and I’ll slip in the antibiotic.”
“We need more water,” Wren said.
He looked to Sloane, imploring her to trust him alone with the girls. “It’s okay, I’ll go get more. Just keep an eye on them.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll go.” She looked to Wren. “You can come with me so you know where it is.”
“It’s safe. I promise. I haven’t had any problems here,” Dr. Kent said.
Sloane nodded. She couldn’t help herself looking back at him once more as she left him alone with her daughters. She was taking a chance and it scared her more than anything. She couldn’t help but run again up the slope to the barn. Wren picked up on her sense of urgency and hurried as well.
“I think he’s okay, Mom,” Wren said.
A thousand responses flew through her brain but none of them would work well. “Just hurry,” she said as she ran out of options.
What’s he going to do? She reasoned. Take off with two sick girls while I run out to get them water from the well? It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine… she told herself over and over as she flew through filling the bottles with water that mostly flowed over the spout. When they finished filling the ten bottles, Sloane remembered falling down the frozen grass earlier and warned her daughter, “Don’t run here. You might fall.”
They slid down the hill and continued running, holding five bottles each. Once back at the house, Sloane couldn’t help herself. She bolted inside and found him sitting in the exact same position beside Mae’s side, checking her pulse with his finger to her neck.
“She’s fine, that is, they’re doing slightly better. Temperatures are dropping, so that’s good. Do you have dry blankets for them once we get their temps down?”
She shook her head as she handed him the first cool water bottle. “No, that’s all we had. We had to leave almost everything. I found these upstairs but that’s all I could find.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got extra blankets in the cabin. I’ll go back and get them soon. Or you can. They’re in a chest at the end of the bed,” he offered.
“Actually, I think there are more upstairs in the bedrooms. Wren, can you take the flashlight and go see what you can find?”
“Sure,” she said as Sloane handed her the flashlight.
When she was out of earshot, Dr. Kent cautioned. “You sure you want her to wander around this house? I swear it is haunted.”
She stared into his hazel eyes and she thought perhaps he was serious. Perhaps he was trying to make their situation lighter with humor. She appreciated the effort but still, she hoped it was only his wit showing. “This house isn’t haunted, it’s perfect—a little dusty but perfect.”
“Sure, have it your way,” he said. “I’m telling you, my mom always warned me that her cousin still roams these halls looking for his wife.”
She scoffed. How in the world could he make her feel less tense at a time like this? Soon, the sound of someone running down the steps caught her attention.
“See, here he comes.”
She shook her head at him as Wren hurried into the room, sheet-white but holding a stack of blankets in her arms.
“Are you okay?” she asked, taking the dry blankets from her daughter’s arms.
“Yeah,” she huffed, out of breath. “It’s scary up there. Everything’s so old but in perfect condition and it’s dark, creepy,” she shuddered.
“See, I told you,” Dr. Kent said to Sloane.
“That doesn’t mean the house is haunted,” Sloane said.
“Mm-hmm,” he said as he packed more snow around the girls.
A short time later, he checked the girls’ vitals again and looked to Sloane. “They’re doing better but I think I should keep an eye on them tonight, here. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, please.”
“Look, I slept well last night but you look as if you’re going to fall over any minute.” Before she could protest he held up a hand to stall her. “I know you don’t trust me but you need to sleep. You’re no good to them exhausted. I swear to God, I won’t go anywhere. I need to monitor their vitals every hour and push fluids whenever I get a chance. You two can make a pallet closer to the fireplace to stay warm.”
Wren already yawned at the prospect of sleeping, causing Sloane to automatically repeat the gesture. Darn it! She was just going to deny her sleepiness when the yawn irresistibly overcame her.
“See? Look, I’m not armed. I mean you no harm. I’m only here to help you. You can open your eyes and you’ll see me right here. There’s nothing to worry about, I promise you. I won’t let anything happen to you here.”
There was no way she was going to trust those words but she needed to sleep and he had given her no reason to distrust him so far. He was right in one regard: if she didn’t sleep soon, she was going to fall over. She’d only slept a few hours in the whole time they’d been there.
“Okay, but only for a little while. I’ll wake up in a few hours and then you can get some sleep too.”
He laughed a little in a way that made her comfortable. “That would be nice. Hey, I know your name is Wren,” he pointed at the teen. “What’s your name?” he asked Sloane.
“It’s Sloane. Sloane McKenna.”
Then Wren asked him, “We know your name is Dr. Kent but what’s your first name?”
“Phineas. You can call me Finn,” he said and then wondered why her face suddenly went blank.
“That…that was my Dad’s name,” Wren said.
“I’m…so sorry. Did he pass recently?”
Sloane listened to the conversation intently though she hadn’t responded as she set up a pallet for both her and her daughter. Her stomach clenched at the mention of her dear deceased husband’s name. She looked at him, startled.
Wren replied in a quiet voice after glancing at her mother, “No, he died during the pandemic. He was a science teacher. I miss him very much.” She looked sad but a little smile at his remembrance too.
It comforted Sloane to know her daughter was healing over her father’s death. The event was such a horrible heartache for them all, and what took place after his death—she’d never forgive herself for putting her girls through it all.
“Well, I’m very sorry to hear that Wren. I can tell he was a great man because I can see that in you. I’m sure he was very proud of you.”
Wren’s smile deepened. The conversation warmed Sloane’s heart, and why? She wasn’t sure. Just that those words were something her daughter needed to hear from someone other than herself.
“You can call me Kent if you’d like. If…it would be easier, that is,” he offered.
“That’s okay,” Wren said as she made herself comfortable under the covers. “You remind me of him anyway. I always just called him Dad, so it’s no problem. Goodnight.”
Sloane couldn’t believe her ears. Her daughter hardly strung five words together and never spoke to strangers even when the world was sort of normal, and here she was carrying on what would be considered an extended conversation with this handsome stranger. Sloane looked up at the man. He was staring right at her, more like through her. She didn’t know what to think. Dr. Kent’s face bore a caring and sympathetic expression; he probably felt sorry for their situation. She didn’t want his sympathy. She wanted her girls better and safe. If she could believe this man that carried her dead husband’s name, they were safe here. But she wasn’t going to trust him, not yet anyway; that would take a long, long, time.
Before she gave into the gravity pulling her eyelids down, she laid her head on her makeshift pillow and rolled onto her side, staring at him. “Do you mind if I call you Kent? I just couldn’t bear to use Finn’s name.”
“You can call me whatever you want,” he said and when he smiled a dimple appeared on the side of his handsome face.
She rolled her eyes and slept.
32
Ghosts
&
nbsp; The next morning, she woke to chattering. Sun rays beamed across her eyelids through the curtains. Before she even opened her eyes, she could tell it was a freezing cold but bright and sunny day.
Then she realized the chattering voice was Nicole’s, though still hoarse. She sat up quickly and four sets of eyes landed on her. “Nicole, Mae?”
Both girls smiled at her.
“They’re fine, Mom,” Wren said.
“Well, they’re better but not out of the woods,” Kent said.
She couldn’t help herself; she cried. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked as she scrambled over to them. Kent had them sitting side by side against the couch, bundled in dry blankets and sipping water while nibbling on soda crackers.
Wren looked to Kent and smiled. “Mom, no one could wake you up.” She laughed, and Sloane hadn’t seen her daughter this relaxed in a very long time.
“You’re a hard sleeper. We’ve been sitting here for hours getting to know one another.”
“He puts people to sleep for a living,” Mae said. “Isn’t that weird?” She giggled.
He’d charmed them, Sloane thought. He healed them but he charmed them too. She wasn’t sure she liked that.
He looked at her silently and seriously for a time. Then he said, “I think you guys are good for a few hours. Why don’t I go back to my place and take a nap, get cleaned up and I’ll come back and check on you? Does that sound okay?”
Her first thought was that he was probably running from them. He’d probably disappear. It didn’t bother her. She and the girls were a lot of responsibility in a time like this and she didn’t want him around anyway; she didn’t need him. She smiled and agreed, “Sure, thank you Kent. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
He stood and she shook his outstretched hand. It looked like goodbye to her. He had no responsibility to her and the girls; she couldn’t blame him for running away. They were too much of a responsibility for anyone to take on.
“They’ll need more ibuprofen in another hour but the fever is staying relatively low now. Keep drinking water and take little bites,” he said to them without really meeting Sloane’s eyes again.
