Influenza: Viral Virulence

by Ohliger, Steven

  Lorie draped her hand over Michael’s chest and soon fell asleep, secure for the moment.

  Michael stayed awake for a little longer, relishing this feeling of perfect happiness. Was he in love? he wondered. Lorie’s soft breathing finally lulled him to sleep. For the first time since he could remember, he didn’t have any nightmares.

  Chapter 25

  Michael opened his eyes as the sun was just emerging over the horizon. Lorie’s rhythmic breathing beside him was soft and comforting. Sometime during the night, they had switched positions, and now his arm was draped over her tiny waist. He could smell the faint aroma of her skin—it reminded him of a field of lilies. He wished he could stay next to her forever, but a cramp was starting to form in his leg.

  He fought the nagging sensation, not wanting to disturb Lorie’s sleep. Eventually, the pain got the best of him, and he had to stretch and walk it off. He moved slowly and deliberately so as not to wake her. She needed the rest.

  He picked up his shoes, and before leaving her, he lightly stroked the side of her face with his hand. Her skin was so soft and supple. Longingly, he brushed a strand of blond hair from her face. She moved slightly but did not awake.

  Sandy stood up from her sleeping position and proceeded to engage in a long stretch as she yawned. Shaking herself, she followed Michael into the kitchen, where he quietly disengaged the back door lock and removed the brace. She then followed him out into the yard, stopping momentarily to sniff the air.

  Michael walked to the shed. He wanted to continue investigating as he had started to do yesterday before they had been so rudely interrupted. Remembering his mother’s words on the phone, he entered the shed and walked over to the lawn mower.

  There was nothing particularly special about the lawn mower itself. It was a good powerful machine that did its job. It sat on a piece of plywood that kept the shed floor clean by collecting any dripping oil or spilled gasoline.

  Michael wheeled the mower off the plywood and lifted the sheet up. Underneath, a hole in the shed floor was revealed. He pushed the plywood off to the side and knelt to examine the contents of the hidden compartment. In the faint gloom of the shed, he had to switch on his flashlight.

  Beneath the floor of the shed and surrounded by plastic sheets to protect them from moisture were extra supplies that his parents had left for him. He started to pull items out one by one. First, he pulled out a backpack. Inside the pack were small, basic essentials such as a flashlight, compass, matches, and other camping gear. He zipped the backpack closed and turned his attention to the hidden compartment.

  There was a case of ready-to-eat meals, commonly referred to as MREs. They were small metal packs that, when opened and mixed with hot water, produced a tasty and nutritious meal. Leaning over and lifting the box of MREs from the hole, he also took out a full gas can and several boxes of shells for his lost twelve-gauge shotgun. Even if he couldn’t use the shells anymore, he’d still bring them with him. Ammunition would soon be scarce and would become a valuable commodity. And there was always a chance that he might acquire another shotgun in the future.

  The last things he pulled out of the compartment were a few gallons of water and some maps wrapped in clear plastic.

  It took him a number of trips to move everything into the kitchen, and Sandy happily followed him back and forth.

  Then, as quietly as he could, Michael opened up the basement door and descended the stairs. At the bottom, he walked over to some metal shelving against the left wall. His parents had taken most of the number ten cans of freeze-dried food with them, but a few remained behind.

  Michael scanned the labels of the orphaned cans and found what he had been searching for. On the third shelf toward the back were four cans of fortified milk powder. It wasn’t the formula that Lorie had promised, but at least it was a start. Balancing the four metal cans in his arms, he managed to carry them up to the kitchen, where he placed them on the counter.

  Now, he concentrated on more immediate needs. He filled Sandy’s bowl with food and then replaced her old water with clean fresh water. In the pantry, he scoured the shelves for something to make for breakfast. Passing over the grits and oatmeal bags, he selected a yellow bag of pancake mix.

  Cutting open the bag, he reconstituted the powdery contents with water and proceeded to make pancakes on the stove. Sandy finished her food and came over to Michael with her nose up in the air, smelling the pancakes.

  As the pancakes were about done, Lorie appeared, looking rested and a great deal better than she had yesterday. “What are you making?” she asked.

  “The only breakfast, besides cereal, that I know how to make,” Michael said with a hint of humor.

  Lorie went over to the table and sat down. Her eyes drifted over the products that Michael had collected earlier. “What’s this?” she asked.

  Trying not to burn his last batch of pancakes, Michael glanced over to see what Lorie was looking at. “Those are just some maps my parents left for me. They ordered them online from a company that specializes in local maps. They have lots of details about the way to Aunt Thelma’s retreat, such as back roads in case the main roads are impassable, streams and creeks along the way, and other things that normal maps don’t have on them.”

  Putting the package of maps back, she observed, “It looks like you found some milk. You know that milk isn’t the same as baby formula, right? They’re almost the same, and the armory guy may accept it in trade, but I don’t think it’s near enough.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. We probably have only enough to trade for one box of ammo. But I was also thinking that our neighbors, two houses down,” Michael pointed in the direction of their home, “may have some more. They are good friends of my parents and had a baby a few months ago. Being close to my parents, they caught the prepping bug from them and have been stockpiling items from the big-box store.”

  “Do you think they’d have enough extra to give us some?”

  “Don’t know. It doesn’t hurt to ask. Besides, they may need something that we have and would be willing to trade.”

  “I don’t know if I feel good about that,” Lorie said. “I can’t see us taking food meant for a baby from them, even if they are willing to trade for it.”

  “We can ask. If they don’t have enough, then we’ll just have to look elsewhere.”

  Chapter 26

  Michael held his “new” 9mm semiautomatic pistol hidden from sight and knocked loudly on the front door. No movement or noise answered him. He looked back at Lorie and saw that she was still watching the street. She held her 9mm pistol ready to use at an instant.

  Before walking over here, Michael had given her a brief lesson about using the gun. He showed her how to replace the magazine, how to load the cartridge into the chamber with the slide, and how the safety switch worked. Lorie had been an enthusiastic learner after the previous day’s events and had asked many questions. Practicing with the gun all morning, she had gained plenty of confidence. And since she’d used the revolver yesterday to successfully defend herself, Michael felt assured that she would be okay. He also knew she wouldn’t hesitate to use lethal force if she needed to.

  Michael turned his attention back to the door and knocked even louder. He looked back at the street to make sure no one had heard him. It was early enough in the morning that the cool air was still in the process of being warmed by the morning sun. The light dew on the grass was evaporating. He waited patiently for a few more minutes, hoping that his parents’ friends would finally answer the door.

  Getting Lorie’s attention, Michael said, “I’m going to check some windows and see what’s inside.”

  Lorie nodded and leaned against the porch column. She still kept a vigilant eye on the street.

  Michael went to the first large window near the porch, which he assumed was to the family room. He tried to peek inside, but it was too dark. Putting the pistol temporarily on the windowsill, he cupped both hands on the window to block out the mo
rning light from his eyes. He saw someone whom he presumed to be Mr. Roberts sitting on the couch in front of the television set.

  Michael lowered his hands and walked back to Lorie on the porch.

  “See anything?” she asked as he climbed the steps.

  Instead of answering her directly, Michael said, “I think it would be best if you stayed out here and guarded my back.”

  Lorie saw the look on his face and knew his hidden meaning. “I’ll stay here and make sure that no one gets the drop on us.”

  “If you can, stay hidden from view from the street and give me a yell if you see any movement. I’ll be right back.”

  Michael tried the front doorknob and to his surprise, the door opened. He held his breath as he crossed the threshold and quickly pushed the door closed. He actually wanted to keep it open in case Lorie had to make a quick escape. But, on the other hand, he didn’t want her to smell that all-too-familiar stench that had assaulted them at her parents’ house.

  “Hello?” he called, not expecting a response.

  Moving quickly, Michael stepped into the family room where he had spotted Mr. Roberts. He was still on the couch in the same position. As Michael moved closer, he saw the pistol lying on the couch beside an empty limp hand. Judging by the hole in the back of his head, Michael guessed that Mr. Roberts had put the pistol either in his mouth or under his chin and pulled the trigger. Looking away before his eyes registered too much, Michael made his way quickly back to the main hallway.

  Reaching the first bedroom door, he cracked it open and poked his head cautiously through the opening. The stench of death was even stronger here in the confined bedroom. In the musty darkness, he could barely make out a female figure on the bed. A crib was set up near the bed. There was no movement or sound coming from the crib. Michael was suddenly very glad that Lorie was standing guard outside.

  The Roberts were a decent, respectable couple and were only ten years older than Michael. Both Mr. and Mrs. Roberts had been excited about becoming parents. The last time he had seen them, they had been taking their newborn for a walk in a stroller. What had happened to them was both sad and appalling. They didn’t deserve this. But then again, neither did most people. From what Michael put together, it seemed that Mrs. Roberts and the baby had succumbed to the flu. In the depths of despair and grief, Mr. Roberts must have thought he didn’t want to go on without them. Michael had sympathy for him, for all of them.

  Closing the bedroom door, he made his way back to the kitchen. He opened the cabinet doors one by one, shining the flashlight on the contents. Not finding anything useful, he moved on to the pantry. He found a few cans of baby food and a package of formula. He took them out and put them on the counter.

  Then he went down into the basement. Shining his flashlight around in the darkness, he soon discovered what he was looking for. Similar to his parents’ home, the Roberts’ basement had metal shelves stocked with their backup food supply. Michael found two more large cases of formula and multiple cases of baby food in various colors and flavors.

  He carried the first case up the basement steps and over to the front door. Lorie looked at the case of food as he put it down on the front porch. Before she could ask, Michael said with sadness, “Don’t worry. They’re not going to miss it.”

  Lorie sighed. It was a good thing she hadn’t gone into the house with him. Even though she didn’t know the Roberts at all, she would have been crushed by the unmoving form in the crib. The mind can only process so much bad news at one time. And she was still very vulnerable because of the loss of her parents.

  “There’s more,” Michael said as he made ready to enter the house again.

  “I’ll help,” Lorie offered.

  “Not a good idea.”

  By the tone of his voice, Lorie knew not to argue. “I can at least carry this to your house while you’re getting more.”

  “You could, and I can’t tell you not to. But after yesterday, I’d really feel more comfortable and more at peace if we didn’t separate. If it’s okay with you, I’d like it if you would continue to cover my back while I’m getting the rest of the food, and then we’ll carry it over together.”

  Lorie agreed, and Michael again disappeared into the house. It took him seven more trips to bring out all the baby food and formula. Then, with each of them carrying a case, they made their way back to the house. They entered the back door, and Sandy greeted them. She hated being left behind.

  Michael and Lorie carried the food to the garage. They placed the boxes on the garage floor and rested. Carrying the heavy load of food was not easy for either of them―they needed a better method of transporting all the cases.

  As Michael leaned up against the truck and caught his breath, he said, “We have a wheelbarrow in the shed. Maybe it would be easier and quicker if we used the wheelbarrow and brought the food over here in one trip.”

  “Let’s try it,” Lorie said.

  Retrieving the wheelbarrow from the shed, Michael and Lorie returned to the Roberts’ house and loaded up. Having only one wheel in front, it threatened to tip over as Michael tried to roll it back. They both grabbed a side and managed to steer it toward home. It took only one more trip, and the job was done.

  “Do you see that?” Lorie stopped as they brought the last of the food to the back door of Michael’s house.

  Setting the wheelbarrow down, Michael followed Lorie’s gaze. Somewhere far off in the distance, a plume of black smoke was rising into the air. “It looks like something is burning toward the downtown area.”

  They carried the food into the house.

  As Michael finished lifting the last case of food into the back of the pickup truck, Lorie said, “That should be enough for two guns.”

  Michael agreed with her. There was enough baby food and formula in the back of his truck to feed two or more children for at least a year.

  With that task completed and out of the way, they could afford a little time to rest and relax.

  Chapter 27

  Michael drove back to the armory. Lorie sat in her usual spot in the passenger’s seat and Sandy, who refused to stay behind and who wouldn’t take no for an answer, was in her favorite spot in the backseat. The trip back to the armory was uneventful, and Michael pulled up, stopping short of the tall gate. The wreckage of cars was a grim reminder of the danger that still existed. He hoped the unseen man would uphold his part of the bargain.

  All three of them got out of the truck, and Michael opened the back tailgate. Then, one by one, he and Lorie carried the cases of food to the gate and stacked them up. During the entire process, Michael looked toward the armory for signs that anyone had seen them. He couldn’t see movement.

  As he finished putting the last case of baby food on the stack, Michael wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and leaned his back against the fence to take a breather.

  “That’s a lot of food,” a voice said suddenly from the other side of the fence.

  Michael spun around and looked for the source. Again, the man was well concealed behind one of the sandbag walls. But he sounded as if he was a little closer to them this time.

  “We held up our end of the bargain,” Michael called across the barren, cold concrete.

  “Yes, you did,” the voice agreed. “And you brought more than I expected. I am a man of my word. You’ll have what you were asking for.”

  “Can you even see him?” Michael whispered to Lorie, who was standing right next to him.

  “No,” she whispered back.

  The unknown voice spoke again. “Look to your right at the Honda.”

  Michael couldn’t miss the charred remains of the compact car.

  “Hidden behind the wreck is a large, black duffel bag. I think you’ll be satisfied with the contents.”

  Michael and Lorie started to walk toward the wrecked Honda.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to take the duffel bag back to the truck after you look inside. Then, come back to the fence unarm
ed, so we can talk. Remember, no tricks,” the voice warned.

  Not really understanding why the man wanted them to return to the fence, Michael continued to walk toward the Honda. Lorie followed alongside. They found the duffel bag right where the man had said it would be. Bending down and unzipping the bag, Michael was pleasantly surprised to find two FN SCAR-H rifles inside, accompanied by two very large boxes of ammunition. He turned and smiled up at Lorie.

  “Got it?” Lorie asked.

  “Yes, I think we got a great deal,” Michael answered back.

  Because of the weight of the ammunition boxes, Lorie had to help Michael drag the duffel bag back to the truck. After placing the bag in the truck bed and closing the tailgate, Michael started walking back toward the fence with both Lorie and Sandy following him.

  About halfway back toward the armory building, a figure appeared from behind one of the many makeshift sandbag walls. Dressed in camouflage and body armor, he walked toward them from his side of the fence. As they drew near each other, they could see the man they had just bartered with, for the first time. With thin, red hair and black-rimmed glasses, the armory man was in his mid to late twenties. He looked like a local boy and had freckles all over his face. Although he had instructed both Michael and Lorie to return to the fence unarmed, he himself carried an assault rifle. Much to Michael’s relief, it was pointed down toward the ground.

  “Hello,” Lorie said tentatively through the fence as they finally met face-to-face.

  “Hi,” the man in uniform replied.

  “I’m Michael, and this is Lorie.”

  “I go by Zach,” the armory man said, smiling at Michael.

  “Good to meet you, Zach,” Michael replied. “Thanks for the rifles.”

  “Right back at you. Thanks so much for the baby food. That was the only thing my wife and I had in short supply. The armory has an abundance of food, but nothing for infants.”