The Flu 2: Healing

by Jacqueline Druga

  “What? Why is he going if it’s a suicide mission?” Tom asked.

  “Mick’s dying, Tom,” Henry answered. “There was a breach in Maryland, his suit ripped and he was exposed. No one knows. The boys don’t know. Mick’s infected with the superbug. I think he’s probably doing this so the boys won’t see him get sick.”

  “Oh my God.” Tom dropped to a chair and his whole being sank. “Can’t you fix this? Can’t you help him?”

  Kurt shook his head. “Not with this, no. I’m sorry.”

  Tom’s hands shot immediately to his face. As angry as he was, that was how quickly he became sad. Tom was devastated. He didn’t know what to say or if he even could speak.

  It was Mick. Mick. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t fair. He had known Mick his entire life. To Tom, he was losing yet another child.

  * * *

  Erie, PA

  According to the scout report, four men were posted at the northwest blockade. When Mick arrived there were six men and four trucks were horizontally parked, blocking the road. Ten yards from that blockade, Mick and his eight men took positions. They all, including Mick, had crossbows.

  No guns. No gunfire. A silent hit.

  “Again, repeating,” Mick whispered, “on my call fire. Then we charge. We don’t want to give them time to radio for help or pull their guns. Disarm them, detain them, kill them if they are a threat. Then you and you …” he pointed to two men, “will go in with me. You two will head north toward the city. I’m heading to the southern tip where we think the hostages are located. I need two more of you to stay at this blockade, and the rest will meet up with Briggs. Got that?” He got their agreement. “Be accurate, gentlemen and be careful. Engage weapons.”

  They knelt in a line and all of them set their crossbows.

  “Take your target.” Mick called quietly. “On my call. One … two … fire.”

  There was a synchronized line of clicks followed by a single whistle sound as the arrows sailed through the air fast and furious.

  Quietly, the nine arrows hit five of the men in deadly areas, the sixth took a shot to his leg and dropped forward.

  “Charge!” Mick ordered and they all raced forward. Except Mick. He reloaded, aimed, and shot at the sixth man, taking him out.

  He motioned to the two men to go in with him and as Mick crossed the barricade, he noticed one man reaching for his rifle. Mick kicked the weapon, bent down, covered the man’s mouth, and ripped the arrow from his chest. The arrow pulled ligaments and blood flowed upward in a rush. Quickly, Mick shifted and stabbed the man in the throat.

  At that point, he didn’t have time to think ‘humanity’ and Mick charged through the barricade.

  It was quiet. No one was around. The sneak attack had sounded no alarms and Mick waved his hand for the two men to go on.

  “I’m in,” Mick whispered into the radio as he ran. “All good. Six down. No one the wiser.”

  “We’ll wait. Let us know when you get a position.”

  “Actually,” Mick spotted the golden arches, “quarter mile. I think I see our fast food restaurant. Be back.” Holding tight against the buildings, Mick followed the bright yellow ‘M’ as if it were the North Star. But staying out of sight was increasingly difficult as the buildings and businesses were further and further apart.

  He came around a back street through a car wash and halted, his back against a wall, and peeked. Men carrying guns walked down the street. They weren’t patrolling, they were walking. In fact, every man carried a weapon.

  Mick pulled his radio to his mouth. “Don’t respond, just listen. We have hostiles up and down the main street. They are armed but not in any ready position.” Mick’s eyes shifted to the blue sign above his head on the building. It read: ‘Patient Parking only,’. “I think I found it. Hang tight.”

  He inched his way forward. Would the men even notice him? No one seemed to pay any attention to what was going on. As he hit the main sidewalk, he looked to his right and up.

  It was the Breast Care Center.

  Waiting until he had a clear shot, Mick darted from the side of the building and raced as fast as he could to the door. Revolver raised, he blasted through the door holding out his weapon.

  The door closed on its own at the same time Mick saw Lars.

  Lars spun around. “Mick!” He grinned.

  “Michael?” Rose swung her legs from the cot.

  “Mom!" Mick rushed to her. “Oh God.”

  Rose weakly got to her feet. Her legs wobbled but Mick grabbed on to her.

  “Mick.” She placed her hands to his face. “Thank you. I knew you’d be the one to get us.” She kissed him over and over.

  Mick smiled. “I’ve seen you look better though. Lars, how is she?”

  “She’s been better, but she’ll heal.” Lars stepped to him. “Mick, what is happening?”

  “Hold on.” Mick lifted his radio. “Briggs, found the hostages. Give me three minutes.”

  “Roger that,” Briggs responded. “Let me know when you have it.”

  “Roger. Out.” Mick clipped his radio. “Lars, listen to me. Take my mom out the back. Make a left, follow that street for a block then take a right. It’ll bring you to the Left Hypochondria.”

  “I know exactly where that is.”

  “I know you do. You did great giving us intel. We own that now. Our men are there, Take my mother.”

  Rose asked, “What about you?”

  Mick moistened his lips. “I don’t have time to go with you. There something in this town I need to find. Find it, take it and destroy it.”

  Lars asked. “Are you talking about the MHS?”

  Mick nodded.

  “I know exactly where it is. It’s at the Diary Queen a block and half down the road. In the basement, inside a stand up freezer. Be careful.”

  Mick’s head tossed back with a grateful nod. “Thank you. Okay, get my mom out of here. We’re running out of time and an attack is gonna happen any minute. It will no longer be safe for you.”

  “Then you’ll meet us. Right?” Rose asked.

  Mick took his mother’s hands. “Mom, that’s not gonna happen. You need to know how much I love you and how much you have been a great mother. Please watch the boys.”

  “Michael?”

  “Mick?” Lars asked. “What’s going on?”

  “Lars, go,” Mick said firmly. He struggled to pull his hands from Rose.

  “No. No,” Rose shook her head. “You are my son. What are you doing?”

  “Yes, Mick, what are you doing?” Lars asked.

  “Lars, go,”

  “No!” Lars yelled. “Not until you tell me what is up.”

  “I have the virus!” Mick snapped. “My suit ripped. The room was hot. I have it. Confirmed. In less than 8 hours I’ll probably be highly contagious. I can’t let the boys know, I can’t let them see me die like that. I won’t be able to touch them, hold them. So …this is my last stand.” He looked at Rose. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” she wept. “You’re my son. My son. I’m going to stay with you. I don’t care about the virus. I don’t.”

  “I do,” Mick said passionately. “I care about you and I care about those boys. They need you.”

  “What are you going to do, Mick?” Lars asked in irritation. “Take care of the heroics and when that is done, go off to the woods and die like a sick dog?”

  “If I have to, yes. Or …” Mick touched the grenades strapped to his belt, “go out in a blaze of glory.”

  “You can’t do that,” Lars argued.

  “What choice do I have!” Mick blasted.

  “You can’t be serious?” Lars said. “You stand before me and ask that. Let me help.”

  “You are the great Lars Rayburn, but not even you can beat this.”

  “How do you know!” Lars yelled. “How? Give me a chance at this, Mick. This is what I do. Get the antidote. It’s with the virus.”

  “It needs to be taken within two hours you k
now that.”

  “But it’s something for me to work with,” Lars said. “It’s a base to start with. The virus is heat resistant and I’ll stick you in a sauna if I have to slow it and buy us time, but for God’s sake don’t do this. Don’t give up. Let me try. For those boys, your mother. For all of us,” he pleaded, “Please, Mick, let me try.”

  Before Mick could reply, gunfire rang out in the distance. “Fuck. We’re too late. Battle started. Go. Go! Get her out.”

  Lars took hold of Rose. “What are you going to do?”

  Mick closed his mouth tightly, leaned to his mother, kissed her and stepped back. “First thing’s first. I get the MHS.” He pointed outward and shouted. “Go!” and she flew through the door and out to the street.

  He emerged unnoticed onto the street. Men and women with weapons rushed toward the other end of the street. Mick could only guess they were headed to the front lines. He blended in so much no one noticed he was the opposing force.

  “Wrong way!” someone yelled at Mick. “The fighting is that way.”

  “Gonna check the other barricade!” Mick replied as he ran.

  The Dairy Queen. He saw it. Picking up the pace, Mick charged to the former ice cream store and inside. The door clanked as he slammed though it and it echoed in the hollow empty store. The basement door wouldn’t be in the main dining area, so Mick hurried to the back hall. It wasn’t there, then he turned to the kitchen.

  He spotted the door and saw it was open. He ran down the stairs and the single metal freezer door was directly in the scope of his vision. That too was open.

  He pulled his revolver and quietly made his way to the door. Back against the unit, he peeked in. A man was in the standalone cooler. After a long blink and knowing that it had to be Ace, Mick rolled shoulder first with a step into the freezer and shut the door. “Hold it.”

  The gray haired man peered over his shoulder with the snidest of looks. “Son, I don’t think you have a clue what I’m holding.”

  “Oh, I know what you’re holding,” Mick said, eyeing the pouch.

  Ace shut the lid to the cooler. “Step aside.”

  “I don’t think you realize I’m holding the gun. Hand me the pouch.” Mick held a steady aim.

  Ace held out the pouch, but with a grin, retracted it and showed a vial. “Step aside, big man.” He inched around Mick toward the main freezer door.

  “Or what?” Mick laughed. “You’re gonna pop that cap? I have news for you. You broke a vial at Fort Detrick. I got the virus, so expose me, go on, I’m already a dead man. But you aren’t getting away with that. On my life I promise you, you will not leave this room with the virus.”

  Ace made his way to the door. “Go on, shoot me. This vial drops and you won’t get it in time before it breaks. That means, you open this door for more than three seconds, you stand a chance of exposing everyone around this building. The second they step in they’re dead. Just like you.”

  “You drop that vial, you expose your men and yourself.”

  “I got the antidote, I’m not an asshole. And listen to it up there.” Ace raised his head to the gunfire. “I’m pretty sure that’s not my men doing all the shooting. They’ll be more men out there.” He put the strap of the pouch over his shoulder.

  “You honestly think I’m letting you walk out the door?”

  “Actually, I think you are. I’m holding the weapon. My men, your men. You don’t want them exposed. Do you?” He reached behind him for the door. “Three seconds. I’m using them now.” His exposed hand opened and the vial dropped, smashing to the floor.

  There was zero hesitation and the split second that the vial broke, Mick fired a single shot, directly to his head and Ace flew back against the door, dropping before it and right by the virus.

  Quickly, Mick stepped to Ace, grabbed the pouch, used his foot and rolled Ace’s body over the vial. He opened the pouch and looked inside. Four metal tubes and five bottles which Mick could only figure were the antidote doses.

  Even though he had what he came for, the walk in freezer was quickly becoming a viral bomb.

  Mick looked at the door, then looked at the incendiary grenades on his belt.

  * * *

  Lars and Rose had made it almost to the destination, though they had to move slowly. Rose could barely walk. Lola had run to them, but Lars urged her to keep going, to leave. They’d get there.

  He crossed the street with Rose, and before he could register a man pointing a gun at them, a bullet sailed into the man and he dropped. Lars looked for the shooter, and a soldier flew around the corner. He aimed, lowered his weapon and used it to point in a direction. “Almost free, keep going. Watch your backs,” he told them.

  After just one more step into the street, an explosion rang out. It wasn’t loud, it didn’t rock the ground, but it stood out amongst the firing.

  Lars knew. He turned to look and another explosion occurred. This one sent flames shooting upward and not far from them.

  The direction of the fire told him all he needed to know. Rose nearly collapsed and with a heart wrenching sob, her knees buckled and it took everything Lars had to hold her up. She rolled into his embrace and Lars lowered his head with saddened eyes and whispered, “Mick.”

  19. Coming Home

  THREE DAYS LATER

  October 22nd

  “They’re back!” Jake screamed into the schoolhouse church.”They’re coming up the main roadway!”

  Chris dropped his pencil and even Mary stood.

  “Hold up everyone.” She walked slowly and focused from around the desk. Chris heard her squeak out a moaning scream and he saw Doc walking in alone.

  “Fai,” she rushed by Chris and the kids to Doc. “Oh, God. I thought when you didn’t call that—”

  “No, we’re good. We’re good,” he said. “We were successful. It took two days. We have to go back, ” his head lowered. “We had losses. We did.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mary said.

  Chris wasn’t waiting for permission. After hearing Doc, he flew from the church, out the door and down the steps.

  The convoy of cars had pulled on to the street and he saw the first vehicle. Faster than he believed he had ever run in his life, he raced to the cars.

  He saw Jonah Briggs step from the first vehicle and walk around the front. He spotted Chris and they made eye contact.

  Where was Mick? Chris looked about, he didn’t see him. He had to be in the back. He hurried to Briggs.

  “Jonah!” Chris ran up to him.

  “Chris,” Jonah said softly. “Where is your brother?”

  “Oh, he’s in the playroom. I didn’t even think about getting him.”

  “Let’s … let’s go find your brother.”

  Chris felt Briggs’ hand on his back and he froze. “Where’s Mick, Jonah?”

  “Chris …”

  Chris looked around. “He’s here, right? Mick’s somewhere. Is he lagging behind? What?”

  “Chris.” Briggs cleared his throat. “Listen to me. Let’s find Tigger.” He reached for Chris.

  “No.” Chris pushed his hand away. His body trembled and with desperation he looked around. Somewhere, in all the men, Mick had to be there. “Where is Mick? Where’s my father?”

  Briggs stared at him.

  “No.” Chris shook his head, his words shook, and his insides cramped up in pain. “No. Not Mick, please, not Mick.” Eyes filling with tears, Chris eked out the words. “Please, not Mick. Please.” Sobbing, he stepped into Briggs. “Not Mick.”

  Briggs wrapped his arms around Chris. “We need to talk, Chris.”

  Chris lifted his head. He could barely breathe. “Where is he, Jonah? Where’s Mick?”

  Briggs pulled him back into the embrace.

  20. Lost Cause

  October 24th

  Cleveland, OH

  “Oh, stop it. It’s not that bad.” Lars spoke with irritation, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You think this is a picnic for me?” he walked ov
er to the bed. “Every time I step in this room, I’m reminded of the tropics. Oh, by the way, no trace at all of MHS in Erie. So that was a positive.” He reached down to touch the arm.

  Mick cringed in pain. “Every time you touch me, I swear to God, you do it on purpose ‘cause you know it hurts.”

  Lars smiled.

  Mick was only covered by a sheet. His body was red and a rash covered his chest and arms. He groaned again. “I thought I should be dead by now.”

  “You should have been. Apparently you are not,” Lars said. “Temperature is still high. Fluid in the lungs, but the rash hasn’t begun to bubble or pus, so that’s a good sign. It’s definitely slowed down. Who would have known that half-brained theory of mine about baking you would have worked? Certainly not me.”

  “This is the worst I have ever felt in my life.”

  “And you are by far the worst patient I have ever had.”

  “Why didn’t you let me die?”

  “Same reason you didn’t blow yourself up. You didn’t want to die, and I didn’t want you to die. Although, baking myself every time I come in here makes me moody.”

  “You’re not the one that’s sick.”

  Lars sighed. “No, I am not. The antidote worked on me. And I am developing antibodies, Mick, so hang tight.” He tapped Mick’s arm.

  Mick screamed.

  “God, you’re such a baby.” Lars stepped back. “I have to be away from home, I wish this could be more tolerable for both of us. Now I have to get back to the lab.” He walked to the door. “Do you need anything?”

  “No.” Mick shook his head.

  “Make sure you respond back to the message from Chris,” Lars told him. “I know your fingers are swollen and hurt, but he knew it was me writing it the last time because I used punctuation.”

  “I’ll call him instead.”

  Lars reached for the door. “Just try not to do that Mick moaning and groaning thing, the boy is worried enough.”

  Mick grunted. “Lars?”