“Is anybody having symptoms?” He lifted his face, and I could only presume that he was looking at me. Through the dark goggles, I had no idea where his eyes lay.
I debated lying but then remembered the agreement I had signed. Lying meant arrest and prosecution. That would guarantee my siblings and I would be split up. “My dad is showing symptoms.”
The soldier brought his tablet up so he could type into it. “What are his symptoms?”
“Fever, muscle aches, peeing himself, and a few times, he’s seemed confused.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“It just started yesterday.”
The other soldier glanced over my shoulder. I could feel my brothers and sisters hovering behind me in the living room. “Are any of the children showing symptoms?”
“No, and I’m not either.”
The one typing in his tablet didn’t look up when he spoke. “You have two options with your dad. You can continue caring for him, or we can take him to the quarantine tents.”
I shifted my weight to my other foot and tried to calm my rapidly beating heart. “If we . . .” I cleared my throat. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask, but my mother’s sobs from yesterday kept filling my mind. “If we send him with you, is there a better chance we won’t catch the virus?”
The soldiers shared a look.
“We can’t guarantee you don’t already have it,” the soldier on the left replied.
“But we’ve been careful. I’ve always worn gloves and a mask around my dad, and we’ve all kept our distance from one another. Each of us washes our hands regularly. That should help, right?”
They shared another look. I ground my teeth in frustration because I couldn’t see their faces. I had no idea what either was thinking.
“Would you just tell me what the best thing to do is?” The outburst spewed from my lips before I could stop it. I slammed my fist into the wall. “I have no damned idea how to keep this virus contained to my dad! Why doesn’t the MRI tell us more about the virus?”
My chest rose and fell heavily. When I lifted my gaze to the soldiers, my eyebrows rose. They had retreated ten feet from their original positions.
I took a step onto the front porch, my fists clenched. “Are you even listening?”
The one on the right drew his gun before I could take back my actions. He leveled it at my chest. “Stay back!”
The other soldier did the same but wasn’t as fast as the first. Nevertheless, two guns were pointed at me, making me realize how stupid I’d been.
I held my hands up and retreated back inside. My brothers and sisters gaped.
“If you will not stay in your home, we will be forced to remove all of you. Is that really the course of action you want to take?” the soldier yelled. Steely authority rang in his tone, but something else lined it too. Fear.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I forced myself to take deep steady breaths before replying in a quieter voice, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I let my emotions get the best of me. We’ll stay inside. I promise.”
“And your father? What would you like to do with him?”
I closed my eyes. Blood pounded in my ears. Stay calm. Keep them safe. Don’t let them split us up. If we were taken to the tents and split up, Aurora would be with strangers. She would be terrified.
I can’t let that happen.
A rising tide of rage swept through me. No, goddammit! I’m not going to let any of us die. I’m going to keep us alive if it’s the last thing I do!
I opened my eyes and knew exactly what my decision was.
I stared into the dark goggles of the soldier on the right. My words felt as if they flowed from someone else’s mouth, but I had to do this. “Take my dad. If there’s any chance the rest of us will survive, then that’s what we’re going to do.”
7 – GUILT
The soldiers made me bring my dad to the door. He was so hot with fever he didn’t seem aware of what was happening.
Outside, the wind continued to blow across the tall grass, sending the hills into rolling waves. A prairie bird burst from the ground and took flight. That simple distraction made me pause.
My dad felt heavy in my arms as I gazed up from the porch. My muscles quivered. The bird quickly disappeared from view.
A moan escaped my father. His eyes were closed, and sweat lined his brow. The unfairness of everything made my gloved hands tighten around him. The wildlife outside continued to live normally, flying, feeding, going about their simple existence. The virus never seemed to harm any animals. Only humans.
Perhaps it’s nature’s way of cleansing the earth of overpopulation. The sarcastic thought made my lips twitch into a humorless smile beneath my mask.
Another moan came from my dad. My grip tightened more as the finality of what I was about to do set in. Will this be the last time I ever see him?
Guilt pounded through my veins as I stood at the door’s edge. The soldiers waited outside. They’d instructed me to take my dad to their truck. I was about to step out of the house when a small hand touched my forearm.
I flinched. “Aurora, stay back!”
Her bright-blue eyes widened with fear. “But what are you doing? What are you doing with Dad?”
The soldiers still stood ten feet away. I turned stiffly to them. “Where do you want me to put him?”
“You can carry him to the truck’s bed. We’ll take him to the tents.” Their palms rested on their guns. At least they’d holstered them.
I nodded and stepped onto the porch. A rush of pattering feet sounded in the house.
“Davin!” Elliot’s wail filled my ears. “Davin, what are you doing?”
I didn’t stop. The porch creaked underfoot as I walked to the stairs.
Mina’s hot indignation came next. “Davin! You can’t! You can’t send Dad away!”
Lars suddenly appeared at my side, two yards outside of the front door.
The soldiers withdrew their guns again. “Get back in the house!” one of them yelled.
I took an awkward step away. Dad’s heavy weight shifted precariously in my arms, but Lars stood too close to Dad.
To the virus.
I had to put distance between us.
Lars’s brown eyes, wide with hurt and disbelief, stared back at me. “How could you? How could you turn Dad over to them?”
I gritted my teeth and took another step away from him. “You don’t understand, Lars. We’re all going to get sick if he stays here.”
“But it’s probably just the withdrawals! He’s not really sick!”
I wanted so badly to believe his words. If only they were true. But I knew they just held false hope. I softened my tone as raw pain splayed across my brother’s face. “He’s sick, and it’s not from withdrawals. He has the virus. He’s going to die, and he’s going to give all of us the virus too if he stays.”
I wished to the deepest part of my soul that none of us were sick and that we all really would be fine if my dad no longer lived in the home. But deep down, I knew the chances of surviving were slim.
But I have to try.
My resolve strengthened as I turned on wooden-like legs and resumed walking. The soldiers shouted at my brother again, who thankfully retreated back inside. But that didn’t stop the four pairs of eyes from needling into my back. My siblings’ disbelief, anger, and accusing unspoken words carried to me as strongly as the wind.
None of them understood. None of them understood that I was responsible for all of them.
I’m doing the right thing. I am.
Despite telling myself that, it didn’t feel right when I set my dad down in the back of the MRRA truck. It didn’t feel right when he finally opened his eyes and looked up at me with a confused expression and furrowed brow.
My hands shook as another moan escaped him. This was the man who had bounced me on his knee when I was young, the man who’d lifted me above his head and swung me outside while I screamed
in joy. He was the man who’d been a father to me for so many years before alcohol claimed his life.
Intense pain wrapped around my rib cage, squeezing my heart. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
His fevered eyes merely glazed over.
He has no idea what’s happening.
Guilt doubled in its rawest form. It felt as if a thousand elephants were standing on my chest, making it impossible to breathe. My choked sob came next. “I’m so sorry, Dad. I’m so very sorry.”
My father’s eyes closed again. I had no idea if he understood.
I tentatively laid a gloved hand on his shoulder as the soldiers in their stark-white suits and dark goggles looked on. A strong wind lifted the hair from my father’s forehead.
His shoulder felt like bone covered with skin. Inside, I screamed at myself not to do this, not to let him go, but I knew I had to.
When I finally pulled back, I ripped the gloves off before wiping the tears from my eyes.
The soldier’s voice was muffled as it carried through his thick mask. “You need to return to the house!” Anxiety lined his tone.
The other soldier drew his gun. “Retreat back to the house, now!”
I swallowed the snarl that wanted to come.
My dad reached for me. “Davin?”
For a brief, fleeting moment, understanding of what was happening dawned in his eyes.
My chest tightened painfully. “Bye, Dad.”
He closed his eyes. Another moan followed. The fever once again took him away.
Swallowing down the tears that threatened to consume me, I locked my jaw and walked deliberately back to the house. Gravel cut into my bare feet.
It was only then that I realized I wasn’t wearing shoes. But the pain on my soles was negligible. I had just handed my father over to the government.
He would probably be dead within days.
I would never see him again.
“Get inside and stay there!” The soldier on the left held his gun steady while the other slammed the gate up on the back of the truck. The sound echoed across the prairie.
I closed my eyes.
It sounded like the lid closing on a coffin.
Forcing my limbs to move, I climbed the creaking porch steps. My brothers and sisters stared up at me with tears in their eyes and disbelief in their unspoken words.
Doubt threatened to suck the life right out of me. I did the right thing. I’m sure of it!
Once I was back inside, the five of us looked out the windows as the MRRA soldiers climbed back into the truck. The sound of the engine starting made bile rise in my throat.
What did I just do?
A rush of adrenaline had me stepping forward, ready to burst onto the porch and chase the truck down the driveway.
A firm grip on my forearm stopped me.
Mina’s accusing eyes met mine. “It’s done. You made your choice. You made the choice for all of us.”
She crossed her arms tightly over her chest.
Lars and Elliot refused to meet my gaze, while Aurora’s hands balled at her mouth. Large tears shimmered in her eyes.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “We needed to do this. And you need to wash your hands. You just touched me.”
Emotions filled the room like a steaming kettle that was about to blow its lid.
My gaze narrowed. “If he stays here, we’re all dead! The chances of us getting it are much higher with him here!”
Lars finally lifted his eyes to meet mine. “You don’t know that. Dad could have been fine, but now he’ll get sick for sure. Everybody in those tents is sick.”
After uttering those quiet words, he turned and walked away.
8 – NIGHTMARE
Dreams plagued me that night. Horrible, horrific dreams. In them, all of us were dying, first my father, then Mina, then my brothers, and last Aurora. They all died one by one no matter what I did.
I woke up drenched in sweat. My breath caught in my throat like a drowning man trying to reach the surface. With a stuttering inhale, I finally sucked oxygen into my lungs.
The sickly smell of body odor clung to me. Moonlight penetrated the soft curtains as a breeze drifted through the window. It was cold, but I barely felt the chill despite goose bumps covering my arms.
I peeled off the sweat-soaked covers and stood. My hands trembled so I balled them into fists. The house was quiet. Still. It felt as if death waited at our doorstep.
Grumbling from my belly reminded me that everybody had gone to bed without eating. We had food since they’d replenished our supplies, but none of us had touched it. It was as though none of us could stomach what had happened to our father.
What I had done.
My fists tightened as I staggered to the bathroom. In the dark, the moon shone through the window as I splashed cold water on my face. Thoughts pummeled my mind of where my father was at this very moment and what was being done to him. Is he lying on a makeshift bed? Is he still alive? Is anybody looking after him?
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut.
I had no idea what the MRRA did with the infected. All I knew was that they moved them into the makeshift quarantine tents until they died. It was yet another way they tried to separate the healthy population from the infected. But once somebody went into those tents, they never emerged—not alive at least—unless they became a Kazzie. The odds of that happening were so infinitesimal. Death was more probable.
My gut clenched as I thought about my father. I gripped the sink’s edge tightly.
I knew if I dwelled on it any longer, it would drive me crazy. With any luck, the next time the soldiers stopped by with supplies they would give us an update. But I knew that was probably wishful thinking. Most likely, we would never know what happened to our father.
I ran a hand through my damp hair. My shadowed image stared back at me in the mirror. Stubble lined my cheeks. My black hair was unruly and lined with grease. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered.
I crept out of the bathroom. Soft snores and wind drifted in through the cracked bedroom windows and carried into the hall. The door to my sisters’ room creaked quietly when I pushed it open.
Aurora and Mina slept in twin beds on opposite sides of the room.
Being careful to maintain my distance, I padded silently in. Mina’s long dark hair splayed across her pillow. One arm was thrown over her face while a foot stuck out from under the sheets. Even asleep, she exuded drama.
Turning my attention to my youngest sister, my breath caught when I saw how little she looked. Aurora snuggled so deeply under the covers that only her head peeked out. Of the five of us, she had the fairest complexion. In the moonlight, she looked almost ghostly.
More than anything, I wanted to smooth the dark tendrils of hair away from her face. She and I had always been the closest of my siblings. Mom had said Aurora was as stubborn as me. Perhaps that was what bonded us.
A wry smile lifted my lips. “Sleep well, angel.” The whispered statement left my lips and carried away like a forgotten promise on the breeze.
I left the room as silently as I’d come in. In a few hours, dawn would come and a new day would begin.
I could only hope the day would prove that we were still healthy. If two more weeks passed and none of us showed symptoms—we would all stay alive.
“WE MAY ALL make it.” Mina sat across the room on an old wicker chair looking out the window. Outside, a dozen MRRA trucks drove by on the highway. They were the only vehicles we saw anymore. A week had passed since our father disappeared in one of those trucks.
We had no idea what had become of him. Guilt still ate at me. The only comfort I took was knowing my mom had agreed that I’d done the right thing by sending Dad away.
“Only a week to go.” I drummed my fingers on the kitchen table then stopped when I realized what I was doing.
It was hard. We all tried to not touch common surfaces, but it was impossible to do that diligently. Standing, I retrieved the cleaning
supplies by the sink and scrubbed the table.
“When’s it my turn to watch TV?” Elliot whined from the living room.
Lars sat in front of some cartoon rerun playing on the local station. He still had another hour until his turn was up.
“Not much longer,” I called.
Elliot sighed in disgust.
Mina’s chair creaked when she pulled back from the window. “Has anyone seen Aurora? She hasn’t been out here since breakfast.”
I returned the faded dishcloth to the sink and put my hands on my hips. “No. I’ll check on her. Guys!” I yelled. “I’m coming through. Stay back.”
My brothers retreated to the corners of the living room. The TV continued to blare. We’d been distancing ourselves from one another for so many days, it almost felt like second nature, but it was still weird to avoid each other like the plague. I smiled humorlessly at my unintended pun.
“Aurora?”
She didn’t respond as I walked down the hallway to the bedrooms.
“Bug? Are you back here?” My heartbeat picked up despite my attempt to stay calm. She hadn’t left the house since that one incident the other week. Surely, she wouldn’t try that again.
A sudden cough coming from behind her closed door made me stop short.
“Aurora?” My voice rose. I sprinted the remaining steps to the bedroom and threw the door open. My heart stopped when I saw her.
She lay on her bed. The sweat that covered her brow was visible even from the hallway.
“No!” Any concerns about catching the virus flew from my mind like a rocket blasting to the moon. In two seconds, I was at her side.
“Aurora? Bug? Can you hear me?” I ran my hand over her forehead. She’s hot. Too hot.
Her eyes lifted halfway open. Even that small movement seemed to pain her. “It hurts.” Her voice sounded so small. “It aches everywhere.”
My stomach plummeted. With trembling fingers, I pushed the damp hair from her eyes. “It’s okay.” My voice shook, so I forced myself to take a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re going to be okay. You’re just a little sick. Probably a cold or something.”
I felt, rather than heard, the rest of my siblings approach. When I turned, I barely registered that they all stood side by side, the quarantine rules forgotten.
The Complete Makanza Series: Books 0-4 Page 5
