H7N9- The Complete Series

by Mark Campbell

  Teddy’s expression sank.

  “It’s a long story,” he mumbled.

  “I’m sure it is,” she said as she tossed the wallet and the ID cards on the floor. “But right now, it’s late, I’m tired, and you should get some rest. I’ll come check on you in the morning. If you need to use the rest room - I put a cooking pot underneath the nightstand along with a couple of bottles of water for you to rehydrate yourself. Goodnight, Corporal Marcus Johnson.”

  The woman blew out the candles, picked up the LED lantern, and started to walk out of the room.

  “I’m Teddy,” he said. “Teddy Sanders.”

  She stopped and turned her head towards him.

  “Jane,” she said with a nod. “I’ll see you in the morning, Teddy. Remember, don’t do anything stupid like rip my guest bed up trying to escape or I may have to go get those jumper cables after all.”

  Jane left the room and closed the door behind her.

  Teddy laid his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling in the dark. Considering the circumstances, he knew that there were much worse places to risk spending the night.

  The woman was annoying, but there was something about her that he liked even though he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  Teddy felt his body relax into the mattress and within a few minutes he fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 17

  NOVEMBER 16th

  His head pounded, his back ached, and his injured ankle throbbed.

  Teddy groaned and squinted as sunlight poured through the bedroom’s open blinds. Warm wind rustled through the cracked window and the curtains flapped against the frame, but it did very little to bring some form of comfort from the unrelenting heat.

  Now that he finally had a moment to think, he realized just how much he missed air conditioning.

  He tried to sit up, but quickly gave up on that since hand was still cuffed to the headboard.

  Teddy sighed and closed his eyes again.

  The bedroom door opened and Jane walked in carrying a tray with a glass of water and another chunk of old bread.

  “Sleep well?” she asked as she sat the tray of food on the nightstand.

  “Yeah, nothing is more comfortable than sleeping with my hand cuffed over my head,” Teddy said without opening his eyes.

  Jane looked down at the empty water bottles lying on the floor.

  “Yeah? Well I’m sure it was a lot more comfortable than it would’ve been if you tried sleeping in that Starbucks with one eye open, smartass,” she said as she crouched down and pulled the pan out from underneath the nightstand.

  It was empty.

  Teddy opened his eyes and looked over at her.

  She was still wearing the makeshift burlap poncho he had seen her wearing the day before.

  “Didn’t use the restroom all night?” Jane asked as she shoved the pan back underneath the stand.

  “I thought you’d be happy,” Teddy said. He reached over and grabbed the bread. He took a greedy bite.

  Jane stood back up and rested a hand on the butt of her pistol.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’ve dealt with disgusting men all my life so there is nothing new you can do to gross me out. I guess that’s why I’ve been living happily without one for almost two years now.”

  “I’m surprised you couldn’t keep someone around given your charming personality and all,” Teddy said in a sarcastic tone, through a mouthful of bread.

  Jane slapped the bread out of his hand and sent it across the room. She leaned down and grinned.

  “Careful,” she teased. “You know what they say about biting the hand that feeds you.”

  “Bitch,” he grumbled, crumbs falling out of his mouth.

  “Besides, I dumped him. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  Jane stood back up and gestured towards the empty water bottles on the floor.

  “Also, if you drank all of this and didn’t have to use the restroom even once, then you’re dehydrated,” she said. “You need more water, not more bread. Work on that if you want to survive.”

  “Well let me up and I’ll go get help myself.”

  “Yeah… No,” she said as she adjusted her burlap poncho. “I’ll give you some more bottles at lunch. Right now I have to go search for supplies before it gets even hotter outside.”

  “What’s with the outfit?” Teddy asked as he reached for the glass of water.

  “It helps me blend in with the desert. Being a woman alone out here is about as dangerous as being an unarmed solider with a lame foot.”

  “Yeah, well you look stupid,” Teddy snapped back.

  “You’re a mature one, aren’t you?” she asked mockingly as she closed his blinds. She turned towards him and glared at him. “I’d rather look stupid than come back raped.”

  Teddy guzzled the water down and sat the glass back down on the nightstand. He wanted to say something back, but what could he say? She was right.

  Jane started to walk towards the door.

  “Look, let me go and I’ll help you,” he finally said.

  “You’d only slow me down,” she said. “Listen, Corporal Marcus Johnson or Teddy or whatever you want to call yourself, trust is something that I don’t have for you. Once your foot heals, you’re out on your own and out of my hair.” She paused and pointed at the water bottles on the floor. “I’ll be back with some more of those later. Until then just try to keep cool and stay quiet.”

  “This is asinine,” Teddy said. “I’m not a threat!”

  “Then let’s keep it that way,” Jane said.

  She walked out of the room and slammed the door shut.

  A short time later, another door opened, shut, and then he heard the sound of a deadbolt being latched shut.

  Teddy waited for a few minutes and listened.

  Silence.

  He knew that her heart was probably in the right place, but he did not have the time to humor her plans.

  Teddy tugged at the iron headboard and shook it, but the welds held tight. He reached under the bed with his free arm and blindly felt for the bolts securing the bedframe to the headboard.

  After a couple minutes of searching, his fingertips brushed across one of the bolt heads.

  Teddy held onto the bolt with his thumb and index finger, and tried to twist it; the bolt tore into his skin and blood started to drip onto the carpet.

  He bit his bottom lip and pushed through the pain. He held onto the bolt harder and kept twisting. It took several minutes, but the bolt eventually gave way.

  Sweat rolled down his forehead as he unscrewed and removed the bolt. He let it fall to the floor and went to work on the one positioned right below it. His fingers were starting to feel numb as the metal began to dig deeper into his flesh, but he refused to let go.

  One corner of the bed crashed to the floor as the bedrail loosened from the fixtures.

  The headboard swung out and Teddy tumbled off the mattress onto the floor- his right wrist still cuffed to the frame.

  Teddy cried out as the handcuff cut into his skin and twisted his wrist. He pulled himself back up and knocked over the nightstand in the process.

  He gave a nervous glance towards the bedroom door, but nobody came barging in.

  Determined, he reached underneath the mattress to unscrew the other bedrail from the headboard.

  All of his fingers on his left hand were scarred, bloodied and numbed by the time he got the next bolt out.

  Teddy managed to get the final bolt halfway out before the bedrail suddenly fell off and the headboard collapsed on top of him.

  He rolled off the mattress, coughed, and slowly stood up with the loose headboard still attached to his wrist. His sprained ankle throbbed and his skull pounded, but he had to keep moving before Jane came back.

  He held up the headboard and looked at the flimsy, thin black iron bars. It was cheaply made and looked like something that had been put together from Wal-Mart; the welds were barely holding together.<
br />
  Teddy grabbed the headboard with both hands and started repeatedly slamming it against the carpet. Some of the iron poles started to bend, but didn’t come loose.

  After five minutes of forceful striking, the welds snapped and the iron poles broke loose from the main support bar that ran along the bottom of the headboard.

  The whole thing fell apart.

  He was free.

  With the handcuffs dangling still from his wrist, Teddy bent over and picked up one of the iron poles and examined it.

  It was only about twenty inches long, but it would make do as a weapon until he found something more effective.

  Pain radiated up his leg from his injured ankle and blood started to soak through the gauze.

  Teddy limped towards the bedroom door and held the bar in the air like a bat, ready to strike.

  He turned the knob and carefully peeked out into the hallway.

  The hall was dark and the wood floor was covered with dust. Framed family portraits hung askew on the walls and cobwebs swung lazily from the ceiling. At one end of the hall there was another door, and the opposite end opened up towards the living room.

  He waited and listened, but he didn’t hear any movement.

  Still in his socks, Teddy limped out of the bedroom and turned towards the door at the end of the hall; the door was ajar.

  He pushed the door open with the iron bar and peered inside.

  The drapes were closed and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness.

  He could tell it was the master bedroom.

  A large queen bed sat in the middle of the room. The bed’s sheets were stained, the comforter was missing, and mold had grown on the pillows. Clothes and coat hangers covered the carpet and the drawers had all been pulled out of dresser. A noxious smell emanated out of the bathroom and Teddy dared not go look at what horrors waited inside.

  It was clear that nobody had used the room for quite some time.

  Confused, Teddy closed the door, turned, and made his way towards the living room.

  As he walked, he glanced at the pictures that hung in the hallway.

  Portraits of a smiling African-American couple beamed at him through their dusty frames.

  Teddy slowed and studied the portraits, but he couldn’t find a single person who shared the slightest resemblance to Jane.

  He stepped out into the living room and leaned against the wall to rest his throbbing foot.

  All of the living room windows had their blinds closed and their curtains pulled shut. A sectional sofa took up most of the room and a large entertainment center claimed the wall. The coffee table was stacked with old newspapers, empty bottles, and molding food waste.

  Teddy crept to the window and opened the shades to look outside.

  It looked like he was five stories up in the heart of downtown. Below, he could see the stereotypically narrow one-way inner-city streets and sidewalks that were piled high with garbage. He didn’t see any movement whatsoever.

  He frowned and turned away from the window.

  The living room connected to a small dining room and a kitchenette, but all of the cabinets were open and the place looked like it had been ransacked. Unopened mail stood piled up on the counter.

  One portrait in particular hanging in the dining room caught his attention; it was a wedding picture of the African-American couple he had previously seen plastered throughout the hallway.

  Teddy stumbled towards the dining area and grabbed a handful of mail off the counter. He started going through the letters, flinging each one over his shoulder after he read the address.

  He kept seeing the same names over and over: Mr. and Mrs. Haywood.

  No Jane.

  “Sneaky bitch,” Teddy said with some admitted admiration. He dropped the rest of the mail on the floor and limped towards the front door.

  It was unlocked, but that didn’t surprise him; why would she have a key to a home that wasn’t even hers?

  Teddy opened the door and was immediately struck with the stench of rot and decay.

  The apartment building’s gloomy corridor had bags of trash scattered throughout and rats ran rampant. Some of the other unit’s front doors had been smashed in while others had cryptic spray-painted markings similar to what he had witnessed in the prison. Sunlight poured into the hall from the open units and provided a dim light. Red flyers were stapled to the wall and were lying on the ground.

  Teddy picked up one of the flyers and stared at it: By Order of the United States Government – Mandatory Urban Evacuation Order – This Area is NOT Safe – All Residents Must Report to Their Nearest FEMA Processing Center.

  A rat scurried over the top of Teddy’s bandaged foot.

  Teddy dropped the flyer and recoiled in disgust.

  “I have to get the fuck out of here,” he muttered.

  Not sure exactly sure where the stairwell was, Teddy turned right and started walking down the hallway in his dirty socks. Puddles of stale water had collected on the floor and liquids seeped out of the sacks of trash; his socks and the bottoms of his pant legs were soaked.

  Teddy tried to ignore the sharp pain in his ankle as he kept his eyes forward and his hands wrapped around the iron bar.

  He spotted an elevator atrium a few yards away with an adjacent fire stairwell.

  It wouldn’t be fun going downstairs in the dark, but he figured it’d be better that staying locked up in some stranger’s bedroom waiting for an unknown fate.

  As Teddy walked, he noticed that one of the apartment doors had the trash cleared away from the front of it and a rolled up towel along the bottom in, what he assumed, was an effort to keep the rats and polluted water from making its way inside.

  He started to walk away without giving it a second though, but then stopped when a realization struck him.

  It had been placed from the outside of the door.

  Teddy paused and looked down the hall towards the elevator atrium and noticed that a path had been meticulously cleared through the garbage, a path wide enough for a wheelchair or a cart; his mind immediately recalled the shopping cart he spotted Jane pushing when he was still on the freeway.

  The hair on the back of Teddy’s neck stood on end and that old familiar intuitive feeling that he picked up spending so many years locked up, started to resonate inside.

  Teddy frowned and looked over at the door, thinking.

  As easy as it would be for him to simply walk away, he knew that he needed some of her supplies if he was going to survive the journey across town.

  What better time than when she was away, he figured.

  Besides, it wasn’t like they were hers to start with anyway.

  Teddy limped to the door and cupped his ear against it, listening.

  He heard nothing.

  Still gone, he thought.

  Nevertheless, he held onto the iron bar tightly just in case someone was waiting inside to surprise him.

  Teddy tried to turn the knob, but the deadbolt was locked.

  He leaned back and slammed his shoulder against the door.

  It took five consecutive blows before the door’s wooden frame splintered and the door swung inside.

  Teddy held the iron bar in the air, walked through the dust, and stepped inside the apartment ready to strike.

  The setup looked remarkably similar to the other apartment.

  A small sofa, recliner, and an ottoman sat in the middle of the living room and a flat screen television hung on the wall. Unlike the other apartment, everything was impeccably clean. Paintings of desert fauna and foreign cities hung on the walls alongside family portraits. Half-burnt taper candles were all over the sofa table and strung out on the bar.

  However, what caught Teddy’s eye was the small stack of canned goods and bottles of soda sitting on the dining table.

  Teddy quickly limped towards the table and reached for one of sodas–

  “What are you doing?” a young voice asked.

  Startled, Teddy spun a
round.

  A barefoot young boy with tussled brown hair and cheeks full of freckles stared up at Teddy with wide eyes. He was wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt. He looked no older than five.

  “Mama said not to touch any of that,” the boy said. “You’re going to be in trouble if you do, mister.”

  “Your, uh, mother and I have a, well, understanding… You see, we’re–”

  “Are you an army man?” the boy interrupted. He stared at Teddy’s uniform.

  Teddy took a nervous swallow and nodded.

  “Cool!” the young boy beamed. “My friend, Tony, has an uncle in the army, but he’s never home now. What’s your name?”

  “I’m uh, Teddy,” he cleared his throat and looked around the apartment. “Where’s your mother? She’s not around, is she?”

  “She went shopping,” the boy said. He pointed at the busted front door. “She’s going to be mad at you when she sees what you did.”

  Teddy frowned and scratched the back of his head.

  “Yeah… I reckon she will be,” Teddy said. “What’s your name?”

  “Daniel, but everyone calls me Danny.”

  “How old are you, Danny?” Teddy asked, cocking a brow.

  “Almost six in…” He paused to count off the months on his fingers. He held up four fingers proudly. “This many months. How old are you, mister?”

  Teddy smiled and leaned against the table to rest his foot.

  “I don’t have enough fingers for that, kid,” Teddy said. He lost his frown and looked around the apartment again. “Tell me, Danny, is your pop around?”

  Danny frowned and shook his head.

  “No, daddy and mama live in different houses now. I see daddy on the weekends. Daddy called and mama said that he had to go the hospital, but she said the doctors are making him better so he’ll be back at his own home soon.”

  Teddy’s stomach knotted. He knew that the kid’s father was most likely lying half-buried in a field somewhere covered in slacked lime.