Rayne repeated his message, moving in a steady stride, knocking on doors and hoping for the best.
<><><><>
Joel heard Rayne calling out to leave a towel outside the door. That was good thinking. Panic overtook Joel and his heart raced. It was fear. The virus was deadly and it scared Joel. What was he thinking? That even though they were all exposed they would never get sick?
Walter was a dose of reality. One that Joel didn’t want to take.
Rayne’s loud voice carried outside bouncing and echoing in the empty, silent morning and Joel headed to the CDC mobile labs.
The lights were on and Joel pounded on the first door.
“We have sick. We need help. They need help.”
No reply.
Joel pounded again. “Hey! Come on.” After a couple more attempts, he moved to the next mobile lab and reached for the door.
He didn’t have to knock.
He knew.
The door was open.
The reason no one responded was simply because everyone was gone.
<><><><>
“Stay in your rooms!” Rayne shouted. “Do not come out. If you are sick, place a towel outside of your door. For your safety stay in your room.”
How many times did Rayne call that out?
By the time he hit the third floor, he was physically done.
He could barely breathe, his wound was throbbing and his head pounded.
Sluggishly, he made his way to the courtyard as Joel was walking in.
“Did you get them?” Rayne asked.
Joel shook his head. “No, they're gone. Like the soldiers, they’re all gone. And … you sure you’re okay?”
Rayne nodded. “I am. I’m still hurting from being shot. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“I’m allowed to worry.”
“What now?” Rayne asked.
“We have to make heads or tails out of all the supplies the CDC dumped in the ballroom. Maybe there’s stuff in there for those who are sick.”
“Maybe Joel, it isn’t many. Maybe the sick left.” Rayne’s eyes shifted to Walter’s room. “He’s the only one with a towel.”
As soon as he said that, it was as if Rayne had jinxed it all.
Slowly, doors crept open, and towels were placed outside on the handles like the ‘do not disturb’ tags.
Melissa’s room.
The head dancer for JJ along with the publicists.
Ernie the cook … his door opened.
Katie the room service girl.
One by one. Door by door. They opened up and hung a towel.
There were more towels than not.
Rayne’s voice and call was the ringing bell metaphorically calling out, ‘bring out your dead’, and those remaining in the hotel responded.
“My God,” Joel gasped. “How are we going to handle this?”
“I don’t know.” Rayne wanted to scream. He fought hard to stay in control. It was overwhelming.
The alert system of illness had ceased and just as Rayne began to assess what they had to face, one more door creaked.
A thick, sickening knot formed in Rayne’s gut. It swirled painfully and internally Rayne screamed. “No. No. No.” He felt that strip of bacon creep up his esophagus and he wanted to vomit right there and then as he watched Ava’s door open slowly, and a white towel emerged.
Chapter 18
Ambassador Suites
Ava’s fingers trembled as she brought them to her lips. Using her back she pushed the door closed and shut her eyes.
She had just placed the white towel on the door handle.
Rayne’s voice and shouting stirred her from her slumber. She was asleep in the front suite room.
“If you are sick …”
Sick.
It was the day.
And like clockwork, right on time, the virus arrived. That was what she guessed because there was no other reason for the shouting.
Unless of course, he was just curious.
No. Rayne knew people were sick and he was trying to gauge who all came down with it. Probably, knowing Rayne, seeing who all needed help.
No, she thought, I’m not putting a towel on our door. There’s no reason.
What she knew of the virus was that it arrived slowly and then blasted the victim. Then again, that female doctor mentioned it mutated and who knew what the next level of reaction would be.
She thought and hoped that her suite, 122, would be spared. Deep in her heart, she knew it wasn’t going to happen. Darren was ill and probably suffering from the after effects of a bad cure. Cassie was gone. She of course, was spared the virus. Her death was violent and it was hard for Ava to determine if her stuffy nose was from crying or from the illness.
She reached her hand down to Landon who had fallen asleep, curled up on the chair next to her. The feel of his skin would tell her. Landon felt normal. Then it dawned on Ava, what if he wasn’t? What if he, like her was fevered? Fever was the first sign. But Ava didn’t have that feeling of being fevered. Her skin didn’t have that prickly chilled feeling. Her nose wasn’t as stuffy as the night before, then again, her eyes felt puffy.
Her eyes.
Bleeding eyes.
The last thing she wanted to do was hang a towel on that door. But scared out of her wits, Ava rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She looked normal. Her eyes just showed signs of crying. Something she had done a lot of.
No dark circles, she wasn’t pale. She turned on the hot water, waited a moment until she saw steam and reached her fingers.
If she was fevered, the water wouldn’t feel scalding.
She couldn’t take a split second. It was too hot. Sighing out in relief, and grabbing the towel only to dry her hand, Ava’s heart sank.
Calvin stumbled to the bathroom door. The battery fluorescent light made his skin look ghostly white, his lips cracked and he choked and coughed on her name.
“Ava.” He coughed.
“Oh my God.” She reached out her hand to him, her other still clutching the towel and that’s when she saw his blood shot eyes. They were so bloodshot, and deep red, his watery eyes would turn to bleeding eyes. “Oh, Calvin.” She retracted her reach.
“I’m so sick.” His lips quivered. “I’m so sick, Ava.”
Ava wanted to grab him, hold him and comfort him. But she couldn’t.
Not yet.
“I’ll be right back,’ she said. “Right back. Stay right here.”
Still clutching the towel, she went to the door, opened it slightly, reached out and hung it on the handle. After she closed the door, she wanted to take a moment to think of what to do and her eyes moved to Landon.
A step away from the door, she nearly jumped from her skin when there was a hard knock.
“Ava.” Rayne called. “Let me in.”
“Wait.” Ava called, walked to Landon, and lifted him in her arms.
“Mommy?” He groaned in a half sleep state. “What’s wrong?”
“You gotta go with Rayne.”
“Ava.” Rayne pounded again on the door. “I need to know who is sick. Please.”
Adjusting Landon in her hold, Ava turned the knob. “Stay back.”
Rayne breathed heavily. “Are you sick?”
“No. Calvin is. Landon is not. Take him.”
“What?” Rayne asked confused.
“Take my son. Keep him away from the sick. He’s not sick. Please.”
“Let me come in and check on Calvin.”
“No, Rayne. You aren’t sick. Take my son.” The words tearfully seeped from Ava.
Rayne’s hands extended through the slight openness of the door and Landon squirmed, turning into Ava and clutching her.
“Baby, it’s for your own good. Please. Let go of Mommy.” She pressed her lips to his cheek. “I love you. I love you so much.” It took a lot emotionally and physically to peel Landon from her. His arms still extended and his legs curled in a grabbing manner to Ava, but she place
d him in Rayne’s grip. “Take him.”
“I’ll be back,” Rayne said. “I’ll be back.”
Landon lashed out a tearful scream, one that was muffled when Ava closed the door.
“Ava.” Calvin spoke weakly.
Ava lifted her head and walked toward Calvin.
Slouching, he held on to the archway of the bathroom and his color looked even worse illuminated by the temporary white light of the bathroom.
“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to stay in here with me.”
“I know,” Ava said softly. “I want to. Come here.” She reached out to him, drawing Calvin into her embrace.
He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pressed his head to her chest and sobbed once. His breathing was slushy. “I’m scared.”
“I know. I know you are.” She kissed him. “I’m here, though. Okay? I’m right here. I won’t leave your side. I promise.”
Calvin nodded and moved back. “Am I going to die?”
Ava brought him back to her and held him tight. She whispered, “No”, that was all she could tell him because she didn’t know. She answered from her heart. A heart that was breaking for the teenage boy who was so scared and so very sick.
<><><><>
Solon, Ohio
There was a line of people that extended from Saint Rita’s Catholic Church, down the side walk and for at least a block. Amita wondered if she should join that line. She slowed down to see the people in the line, most were coughing, blankets draped over them. Some were almost too ill to stand up.
Was there medical help or were they just going there for spiritual salvation?
She touched her face mask pressing it against her nose and picked up the pace.
What was she thinking? She didn’t take anything but a small bag when she left the lab and took an offer of a ride from the soldiers.
She left the sanctity of the hotel. It was safe there; there were supplies and possibly a way to get to West Virginia. But she wasn’t thinking that far ahead. She only wanted to get to her husband and son.
When the soldiers left, so did she.
They made it the short distance out of Cleveland when they had to stop. They dropped Amita off in the town of Solon and then they turned around and headed back to Cleveland. Their orders had changed and they were needed for riot control.
Before they let her off, Amita begged them not to go. “It’s useless,” she told them. “Somewhere, somehow, this virus is everywhere.”
“It’s out duty,” said the one.
“No, your duty is to protect from any enemy foreign or domestic. Nowhere in your oath does it say ‘airborne’.”
Were her pleas for their own good? Or was she being selfish?
They dropped her off, wished her well and they were on their way.
Amita was alone in an infected town with nowhere to turn. She tried to talk to people in the town, but no one would talk. A lot of people were fleeing and tossing suitcases into cars.
“Can I get a ride?” She would yell to strangers. She hoped that someone, a family, anyone would tell her to ‘hop on in’.
But they all ignored her.
Cars sped by and she waved her arms frantically. “Please, stop!”
No one did.
The people were like her, focusing only on themselves and their families.
The only way to survive the virus was to go away, a remote area and wait it out for weeks. Hopefully, that would be enough time.
Amita’s family was safe. She believed they were. She just had to reach them.
There was no way she was going to be able to walk to West Virginia. Especially with the virus all around her. So she had to keep on walking until she found a way to get to them.
Amita would. She was determined. If it was the last thing she did, she would reach her family.
<><><><>
Cleveland, Ohio
Her name was Amanda Jean and she saw it coming. At least that was what she told Sean and David, as if she were vying for an interview.
“I read tarot cards,” said the fifty something woman, “so I knew. I knew when I saw Semora, she was near death. Although I admit, I had no idea it was contagious. Perhaps my senses were blocked.”
She rambled in the backseat so insidiously, David, wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up. But he was polite and refrained. He just beckoned in his mind for Sean to drive faster and drop the woman off close enough for her to walk. His head pounded and he blamed it on her.
The other two passengers didn’t travel too far with the paparazzi duo. A couple of miles down the road, they got out.
Amanda Jean wanted to get as close to the city as possible, riding as far as she could with the guys. After all they were headed west.
The main roads were packed with traffic leaving the city. In fact, authorities halted inbound lanes to make room for more cars to get out. Sean and David were taking back roads and they needed to get around the city. David found himself wishing they had just headed south.
Sean ended up making the decision to try another way, and that was a mistake.
They ended up back near a main road.
Eventually, what should have been a forty minute trip, turned into two hours and they couldn’t go forward.
It seemed, to David they moved right into panic driving. Cars beeped, they tried to scoot around and the space that was behind them, quickly filled up.
“What the hell?” Sean blasted. He looked over his shoulder. “This is as close as we can get you.”
“I understand. Thank you.” She reached for the door. “Although the grassy area is clear.” She pointed to the field next to the road.
“I’m not driving in the field,” Sean replied with a snap.
“You think maybe you shouldn’t go in the city?” David asked Amanda. “I mean, everyone is leaving.”
“Then that’s the best place to be. No one around.” She opened up the car door, said one more goodbye and slipped out.
It was at that point that David noticed they couldn’t really go anywhere. Not forward or back. Packed in now like sardines, not a single car would give them a chance to turn around.
“This is what we get,” Sean said, “for being nice guys. Look at these crazy people leaving their cars.”
“What's up with that? Man, that guy looks pissed.” David pointed at the windshield.
Just ahead of them, a man stepped from his car. He moved in a lurking manner as if he were searching cars. The angry looking man, locked a stare on the two reporters and made a beeline their way.
“Shit.” Sean said, tossing the car in reverse. “He’s pissed at us for being here.”
The car backed up with a jolt into the car behind them.
“Now they’re pissed off,” David stated.
Crash!
The man’s hand smashed through the driver’s side window causing Sean and David to scream.
He grabbed a hold of Sean’s arm, trying to pull him from the car.
The only weapon in the car, that David had was his old metal travel mug filled with old coffee. Holding the large mug he leaned over Sean and started striking the attacking man. Old coffee splashed everywhere.
Sean stayed focused. He drove forward into a car, backing up into the one behind, shifting gears, hitting the gas, until finally, he made enough room to jerk the wheel to the left and take that grassy field route that had been suggested by Amanda.
David saw the freedom of the field, and looked behind.
“Is he following?” Sean asked.
“No. You alright?”
“Yeah, but he scratched me with his nails.”
“We should pull over and get that cleaned up.”
“I’m not stopping. Not yet,” Sean said and twitched his head. “I can’t believe this. What the hell was wrong with that man?”
“I don’t know.”
Sean’s voice increased in volume and intensity. “I should go back there and kick his ass!”
&nbs
p; “No you shouldn’t.”
“He scratched me. Broke my window and while I’m at it, I’ll run over Amanda.”
“Sean?”
“I hate this life. I hate it. Trapped in a hotel, and now I'm stuck in a car with you.”
“Sean?”
Sean slammed the brakes.
“I thought you weren’t stopping.”
Sean didn’t look at David. Suddenly his hands banged hard to the steering wheel at the same time he slammed his forehead against it as well. All the while he screamed his loudest. “Goddamn! Son of a bitch! Fuckers! Hate them! I hope they die! Die!”
Stop.
Silence.
Sean’s head fell to the steering wheel.
David understood Sean’s emotional outburst. He himself was frustrated, but Sean went a little overboard and when he didn’t move, he figured Sean knocked himself out from banging his head so hard.
“Sean?”
Sean’s head sprang up and with a smooth turn of his head, he faced David. His eyes were wide and blood shot, drool seeped down the corner of his mouth like a fountain and before David could register that he should open the door and run, Sean lunged at him, hands on David’s throat and began to choke him.
His grip was strong and David’s air left him quickly. He knew he was going to die. Sean was nearly on top of him. David pleaded for him to stop. To please stop. But Sean kept choking him and the massive amount of saliva that poured from Sean dropped into David’s open mouth.
At first David gagged. Despite the fact that he was gasping for air, he gagged and then David got mad. His anger increased and he was able to fight back. Within moments, David was outraged and strengthened by that. He grabbed Sean’s wrists and pulled so hard, the one bone snapped. That didn’t stop Sean, he lunged again at David and David fought back.
They struck, scratched, bit and growled at each other like two rabid animals. In fact, that’s what they were.
Contagious Page 19
