Sanctuary

by Pauline Creeden

  Before they reached the step of the yellow quarantine building, the clouds opened up, and the rain started to fall. Hugh’s hot skin welcomed the cooling water, but he worried that Jennie might get chilled. She hopped forward on the concrete steps and pulled the door open. They entered in, and the man at the counter panicked the minute he saw Hugh’s blood. “You can’t bring him in here!”

  Hugh ignored him and raised his voice in a commanding tone. “Soldier! My name is Hugh Harris. I need to place a call to Colonel Wesley.” He held out his hand.

  “I…I don’t have clearance to contact him.” The soldier gripped the communicator in his fist.

  “I do.”

  With furrowed brows, the soldier placed the communicator in his outstretched hand. Hugh turned the knob on the top to the right frequency and pressed the button. “Colonel, this is Hugh Harris. I’ve been infected. Can I get a quarantine room on the experimentation floor?”

  “Where are you, Harris?”

  “In the lobby.”

  “I’ll send a team down there to collect you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hugh handed the communicator back to the soldier and looked at the girl who held him up like a crutch. He leaned against the wall and pulled his arm from Jennie. She took a step back. Her eyes were filled with worry. The blood—was it his or had she been... “Are you injured at all?”

  Jennie shook her head, flinging droplets of water from her wet hair. She bit her lip and held her hands out in the way you would for a toddler taking his first steps. He smiled. She would try to catch him even if he was almost twice her weight.

  The elevator dinged and three orderlies dressed in green scrubs exited with an armed soldier. They approached Hugh and Jennie with a gurney. Her eyes were wide and full of worry. “Can I stay with him?”

  The nearest orderly, a gruff gorilla of a man pulled down his mask and smiled at her. His white teeth shone. “No, I’m afraid not. Mr. Harris will be in quarantine for five days. After that time, if he is healthy, you can visit him.”

  “Five days?” Her brow wrinkled.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, and the three of them grasped Hugh and lifted him onto the gurney. They moved his leg, and he clenched his jaw to keep from screaming in pain.

  “It will be okay, Jennie. I’ll have them send for you as soon as I’m clear.”

  She took his hand for a moment, and her soft fingers gripped his. Hugh looked up into her round face and saw the tears running down to her lips. What it would feel like to kiss them? She was so young. Too young for him. Why did he feel this way about her?

  They began to move the gurney toward the elevator, and she walked with them for a few steps, refusing to let go of his hand. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Her fingers grew limp and released his. Hugh looked into the eyes of the large orderly with the wide smile. “Her name is Jennie Ransom. She’ll be at the chapel. Don’t forget to inform her.”

  After leaning to press a button on the elevator, the man winked at Jennie and said, “Don’t worry. We will.”

  Brad

  RAIN BEAT ON THE GLASS, and Brad was stuck in front of the window. The story that unfolded outside had been unbelievable. Darkness descended on the military base so quickly he could just make out Jennie’s light blue jacket during a lightning flash as she darted from the quarantine compound back to the chapel. With the rain barreling down on her as it did, he wondered why she needed to make it back to the church so badly.

  “It looks like the coast is clear.” Sarah said in her husky voice, softly taking hold of his shoulder. “Want to get back to what we were doing?”

  He clenched and unclenched his jaw, looking at her sideways. Her black hair fell in soft waves to her bare shoulders. Suddenly her red lipstick was less interesting than it had been a few days ago. It was getting time to move on again. But where would he go? Her bed was soft, and he never needed to worry about where things were or how to get them. She took care of it and him. It was nice to be taken care of.

  Maybe he’d stick it out a little longer.

  Jennie

  JENNIE WAS CHILLED TO THE bone when she finally opened the door to the chapel and let herself in. Her teeth chattered, and a steady drip fell to the floor from her jacket. With stiff fingers, she unzipped it and peeled it from her like a second skin.

  “Jennie, honey, let me get you a towel.” Mrs. Crawford looked back to some semblance of normal. Her eye make-up had run down her cheeks, and her hair was out of place, but her expression took on its more usual calm. Having duties to fulfill had definitely helped Jennie find solid ground on which to stand, and it seemed to be helping Mrs. Crawford, too.

  Jennie smiled and nodded, teeth chattering too much to talk.

  Mrs. Crawford came back with a towel and a blanket. After Jennie had dried her hair some, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. “Do we have any rain jackets?”

  “Why?”

  “We need to get Pastor Billy to the quarantine center before he changes.”

  Mrs. Crawford’s expression turned cold and her smile, plastic. “Whatever for? We could just keep him here. He’s fine here.”

  Jennie swallowed hard, and her face flushed with blood. Suddenly she didn’t feel as cold as she had a moment before. “Mrs. Crawford, we need to get Pastor Billy to the quarantine building.”

  “I can take care of him just fine.”

  “Shannon.” Pastor Billy stood at the first pew, next to Mickey. His arm was in a make-shift sling, and his shoulder was bandaged with torn strips of cloth. “Jennie is right.” He limped down the aisle toward them. “Get me to quarantine before I hurt someone.”

  “No. I refuse. They’ll kill you or turn you out. No one has been cured.”

  Did the Crawfords know about Hugh’s theories or the experimentation at the quarantine building? Jennie shook her head. “Wait. You’re wrong. There are some scientists who believe that the cure to this infection is to allow the person five days to recover without being bitten again. The best place to do that is at the quarantine center. They can keep Pastor Billy from hurting himself or anyone else while he recovers.”

  “See, Shannon. It’ll be okay. Let’s go.”

  Mrs. Crawford began chewing her fingernails. “But it’s raining outside. Shouldn’t we wait until it stops?”

  Jennie shook her head. “It might rain for hours, and we have only about an hour from the attack until Pastor Billy starts to change. I already saw this with my dad. It’s not pretty, and it’s not safe.”

  The fountain of tears Mrs. Crawford dammed back with her mask of calm broke free. “No. I don’t want you to go. What if I never see you again? I can’t do it. I won’t know what to do.”

  “Shannon, you need to rely on God. He should be the rock of your hope, not me.”

  She swallowed hard and her eyes grew wide. It looked as though Pastor Billy’s words had slapped her in the face.

  Pastor Billy turned to Jennie and set a hand on her shoulder, saying, “Let’s go.”

  “I wanna go, too.” Mickey jumped up from the pew he had been chewing on. He ran over and grabbed Jennie’s other hand.

  She didn’t want to leave Mrs. Crawford alone nor did she want to drag Mickey out into the rain. But in the condition that the pastor’s wife seemed, Jennie believed the woman couldn’t take care of herself, much less the five year old boy. “Mrs. Crawford, you should come, too.”

  The woman stood there, staring at the floor. Her lips were moving, but no sound came from them. She made no attempt to stop her hands from wringing her fingers into knots. Jennie wanted to shake her and tell her to get a hold of herself, but her hands were full. Mickey squeezed her hand and released it.

  “Miss Crawford,” Mickey said, putting both his hands over the top of the woman’s knotted fingers. “Come with us. Everything is going to be okay.”

  The woman stopped wringing her hands and sniffled. Her tears had begun cleaning the mascara streaks from her cheeks. She smiled at Mickey and took his offer
ed hand, nodding. Jennie couldn’t be prouder of her little brother. His quick thinking had saved the day again and without being told to do it. The small band opened the door to the pouring rain and started for the yellow quarantine building.

  Hugh

  HUGH MET THE ORDERLY’S EYES as the elevator doors shut. One of the others took his pulse and another was cutting his pants leg with scissors to get to the wound on his thigh. “Has Phillip Bryant woken up yet?”

  The orderly’s smile faded just a bit as he said, “I don’t know about that, sir.”

  Hugh nodded. “Is he still asleep, then?”

  “Sir, I’m not authorized to discuss the condition of a patient with another patient.”

  “Right. Of course. Is there any way that I would be allowed to speak to the Colonel?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What about Sergeants Jones or Stanley?”

  “I’ll check with them, sir. But right now we’ll be tending to your wounds and finding you an appropriate recovery room. You sure are lucky that girl had the wherewithal to get you here. Most girls wouldn’t be willing to get their hands dirty, or bloody, like that.”

  “True.”

  The elevator doors dinged and opened. Overhead, the florescent lights had been decorated with covers that had fish and butterflies on them. He hadn’t noticed it before. But he hadn’t been lying on a gurney either. The quarantine wing of the hospital was separated from the rest of the facility by a long hallway on each floor. The windows on both sides of that hall made him privy to the sight of the dark clouds and pounding rain outside. He wondered if Jennie made it to the chapel okay or if she still waited downstairs.

  “Harris. What mess have you gotten yourself into?”

  Hugh turned his head to the rotund gut of Sgt. Williams. He smiled. “Williams. It was one heck of a lunch break. Lucky you didn’t go last.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “So is Bryant awake yet? Please give me some good news.”

  “I’m afraid there is no news to give. He is not awake, but he’s not dead yet either.”

  Hugh nodded, but his flame of hope flickered. “I was afraid you’d say that. But at least he’s not dead.”

  The gurney turned the corner, but Williams followed at his own leisurely pace behind them. Hugh lost sight of him. The room spun for a moment while they turned his gurney around so he faced the door. One of the orderlies nodded to the others and said, “Sorry, Mr. Harris, but we’re going to have to turn you over to dress your injuries.”

  Hugh nodded and helped the men turn him over. He turned his head, so he could watch them. Each of the orderlies nodded at Williams as they left. He pulled up the sleeves on his white lab coat and washed his hands. Then, he went to the counter and pulled a pair of gloves out of the dispenser.

  “You’re treating me?”

  “I’m a doctor, and I’m here. Might as well.”

  Hugh nodded. The stubble of his cheek caught a little on the light green cotton sheet of the gurney. He suddenly felt very tired. Was it the blood loss? Or were the effects of the infection beginning? “Do you think my theory has validity?”

  “After reviewing the tapes we have and the experimentation conducted before you came, I’d say it’s got a good chance.”

  The doctor cleaned his wound, and Hugh clenched his jaw at the burning sensation. “Everything is riding on whether that man wakes or not.”

  “Yep.” Williams pierced Hugh’s thigh with a needle and soon the wound went numb. Only the tugging of his skin as the doctor sewed could be felt. “I’ll need to give you an antibiotic for this, too.”

  Hugh’s scalp began to itch, and his joints started to ache. How long had it been? Had it even been an hour yet? Blood rushed to his face. “I’m starting to feel a little flushed. I’m going to need that room soon.

  “Right. I just need to look at this wound between your shoulder blades.” After a moment of cleaning it up, he replied, “This one’s a puncture wound, so we won’t be stitching it.”

  Hugh nodded.

  The gloves snapped as Williams pulled them from his fingers. He went to the intercom and pushed a button. “He’s ready. Send in an orderly to take him to observation room four.”

  “Yes, sir.” The answer crackled over the intercom almost immediately.

  Because Hugh was on his stomach, he couldn’t see the fish, birds and butterflies on the ceiling. The windows showed the sky had lightened up a bit, and the rain had subsided to a drizzle. He was getting really tired. “Are there Shisa on the base still?”

  “Nope. I guess our guys chased them off.”

  “That would be good. But I wonder if it had something to do with the rain.”

  Williams hand rested on Hugh’s shoulder, and he heard the man whisper. “You might have something there. I’ll look into it.”

  “I think you should.”

  They reached the room, and Hugh watched his reflection in the observation mirror. The orderlies lifted him from the gurney and laid him on the floor. The white room was barren of carpet, furniture, or windows. He’d be alone in this room for five days with little more than a few water bottles thrown in and snacks tossed on the floor. Like an animal, he’d eat them to survive.

  With a sigh, Hugh truly hoped he wouldn’t remember. The door clicked behind them all. He was alone. Tears of self-pity coursed his face as he lay on the floor, unmoving for what felt like forever. A moan escaped his lips when he tried to move. His joints burned with fire.

  The intercom crackled. “Williams here. You just concentrate on surviving this, Harris. Nothing else. I’ll be here for you the full five days. Survive.”

  “IT HAS BEEN FIVE DAYS now, Jennie. When will we hear?” Mrs. Crawford asked, as the last refugee left the chapel.

  The evening sun shone through the wide-open chapel door. The Shisa hadn’t returned to the base, so the alert level had gone down. Still, Jennie didn’t feel comfortable with the door wide open and often watched for large shadows throughout the day. Mickey played behind her, because she always kept herself between him and the open door. “I don’t know,” she finally answered.

  As Mrs. Crawford stood, her chair scraped against the hardwood floor. She walked over to the door and shut it part of the way, staring at the sky. She plastered on a smile and raised her voice a tick. “Are you guys ready for dinner?”

  “Yeah!” Mickey leapt to his feet and ran for her.

  Jennie stood from her stool with a smile and headed up the aisle after him. Mrs. Crawford picked Mickey up and swung him onto her hip. A breeze fingered through the trees outside, making the first days of August feel more like late fall. It hinted that winter was coming, and no one talked about it. How long would it last? She pulled her jacket closed and zipped it, She walked toward the mess hall.

  The small community of refugees on the military base felt generally useless. The military didn’t give them jobs to do. Luckily, Jennie and Mickey had been loosely adopted by the Crawfords, so they stayed busy working at the chapel with them. The days were cool, but at least they lasted just as long as they normally would. It was nearly seven and the sun hung low in the sky, but they didn’t have to worry about nightfall yet.

  She ran into Phillip as he was leaving the mess hall.

  He greeted her with a grin. “Oh, hey, Shorty. What have you been up to?”

  His smile was contagious. The scars made by his own fingernails would take a while to heal on his forehead and cheek, but it was good to see his bright smile. It gave her hope. And hope made her heart flutter. “Nothing much. Helping where I can.”

  He ruffled her hair like she was five years old. “You’re a good kid. You know that?”

  She nodded her head, trying to shirk off his hand.

  The man couldn’t have been ten years older than her, and it was rather silly that he treated her like he was old enough to be her father. He pulled her into a hug. “You keep up on being good and have faith. If I could come back from this, they both can, too.”


  She nodded again, her face rubbing against his down jacket.

  He pushed her back and looked at her. “You’re a quiet one.”

  “You talk enough for the both of us.” She smiled, and he guffawed, literally slapping his knee.

  Phillip waved to a woman across the street. He sauntered away, shouting to the woman, as he crossed to pull her into a hug. He had slept nearly twenty hours. If Hugh survived his turning, he could sleep until the sixth day, too. She just needed to be patient. And so did Mrs. Crawford.

  The pastor’s wife stood in line just behind Mickey, who pointed to things he wanted her to put on the tray for him. Jennie smiled and reached for a tray.

  “Hi, Jennie.” Brad’s voice came over her shoulder, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She hadn’t realized before how similar his voice was to Hugh’s. She chided herself for feeling so strongly about the teacher at her former school. Why had she let them develop during the five days of his absence? He was nearly eight years her senior and wouldn’t be interested in her that way. In fact, he probably thought she was just a kid, like Phillip did.

  A familiar looking woman stood behind Brad. “Hi,” she said looking between them both. They were obviously together.

  “Oh, Jennie, this is Sarah White. And Sarah, Jennie…I’m sorry, but I don’t know your last name.”

  Was it her imagination, or did Brad look a little annoyed with Sarah? She reached a hand over his arm toward Jennie.

  Jennie forced a smile. “It’s Ransom. My last name is Ransom. White?” She knew the face struck a chord, and now she remembered. “I think you were the scientist watching me while I was in quarantine.”

  The dark haired woman nodded, sidling herself in front of Brad. He stepped back and let the woman push her way between them. “Yes, I think you’re correct. You have a little brother, right?”