Influenza: Viral Virulence (25 page)

“My parents had a whole-house generator installed a few years back after a category four tornado left all these homes without electricity for days. It was very expensive, and they had to pay even more to insulate it from noise so the neighbors wouldn’t complain.”

“What makes it run?”

“It runs on propane. We have a huge—I mean, huge—propane tank buried out in the backyard. We can probably run the generator for weeks, or even months, on that tank.”

“Oh my!” Lorie exclaimed, still looking at the lights in disbelief.

“And one more thing,” Michael said, smiling. “We have a well pump hooked up to the generator too.”

“So, you’re telling me that we have running water?”

“Yes.”

“Hot water?”

“Yes.”

“Hot shower?” She looked at him expectantly.

“Yes,” he answered again. He had never seen her smile so big. Despite her injury, she jumped up from the bed, dashed across the room, and gave Michael a big hug. His happiness shifted to concern as she started to sway to one side.

“I shouldn’t have jumped up so fast,” she admitted as her dizziness began to subside.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Michael said as he led her back to the bed. “You need to take it easy for a while until you heal. Don’t worry about anything. Just rest.”

“You know you aren’t going to stop me from taking a nice, long, hot shower, right?”

“I wouldn’t even dare to think about getting in your way,” Michael replied. “The tub in the master bath might be a better option for you. You don’t want to get that wound wet just yet.”

“That sounds great,” Lorie said dreamily.

“I’ll try to make something for us to eat. Just pray that it’s edible.”

He left her in the bedroom and went to the kitchen. Although everything in the refrigerator and freezer was spoiled, his parents had a small supply of freeze-dried and canned food stored in the basement. He was sure they had taken what they could pack with them, but there should still be some food left. And now, with running water and a working stove, he might be able to successfully whip up a nontoxic meal…other than macaroni and cheese.

While trying to get a meal together, he heard Lorie get up and cross over into the master bedroom. He heard the water run as she filled the Roman tub. Smiling to himself, he figured that Lorie would be in seventh heaven about now.
Good
, he thought,
she deserves a break from this insanity
.

He looked out the back door and saw that night was falling. Lorie was still preoccupied in the bathtub, so Michael went through the house and turned on a few of the lights. Then he went outside and made a quick inspection of the perimeter of the house. He could not see any light escaping from the inside.
Good
, he thought, and went back into the house. He locked and barred the back door once again.

By the time Michael had finished making an edible (he hoped) meal, Lorie emerged from the bedroom. She looked like a flower that had just emerged in the morning dew of spring. She was absolutely radiant. Even her blond hair was back to its normal shininess.

“Wow! You look fantastic,” Michael blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly.

“But, how did you…” Michael started looking for her bandages.

Lorie smiled at him. “We girls have lots of secrets. No one man can handle all of them.” She moved some of her hair that she had expertly used to hide the fresh bandage.

“Incredible,” he exclaimed.

They sat down and ate dinner. While cleaning up, Michael said, “You know that the washer and dryer are working now. But if you’re going to use them, just let me get a quick shower. I’m sure I stink by now.”

“I was wondering what that smell was,” Lorie said as she crinkled up her nose, a smile spreading across her face.

After finishing in the kitchen, Michael rechecked all the windows and doors one more time. He wondered if he was being too obsessive about it. But after what had happened, he could gladly accept being OCD if it meant being safe. He turned off the lights as he went. He didn’t want to waste electricity if he didn’t have to.

Finally satisfied, he peeled his clothes off and stepped into the shower. As the hot water cascaded over his skin and washed away the sweat, Michael felt grateful. He owed this shower and everything to his parents. Their meticulous planning and preparation had saved him.

Stepping out of the shower and drying himself off, he was surprised at how much a simple hot shower could revive the body and spirit.

Putting a clean fresh set of clothes on, Michael went looking for Lorie. She was in the bedroom getting ready to go to sleep.

“Good night, Lorie,” he whispered through the open doorway.

“Michael, come here,” Lorie called.

Wondering if she was okay, Michael went into the bedroom and stood by the bed.

“Stay with me tonight,” she said.

A surprised “Umm…” was all he could manage.

“I don’t want to be alone…tonight,” she said.

Not knowing exactly what she meant, Michael stood there, caught between what he should do and what he wanted to do.

She reached out and grabbed his arm. She moved over, giving him room as she pulled him slowly toward her.

Feeling all resistance melt away, Michael let her pull him. He crawled into bed fully clothed and lay next to her.

Satisfied, Lorie snuggled up next to him. Sandy took up her normal position at the side of the bed.

At this moment, Michael couldn’t be happier. Lying next to Lorie, he felt that the universe was in perfect order. Even though everything outside the house was all wrong, right here and right now, everything inside felt so right.

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 morning 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.