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Authors: John Lundin

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BOOK: Prepper's Sacrifice
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Chapter 4

 

There wasn’t enough skin on Stewart’s body to fit the goosebumps that wanted to make their way over him. The high Florida temperatures didn’t have the capability to keep his temperature from falling. Instead, a cold wind of fear took over, making him speechless and breathless at the same time.

‘This can’t be happening,’ he exclaimed.

He turned to look at his wife, who seemed to be having a hard time closing her mouth.

‘How could they allow something like this to happen?’ he said to Anne. She didn’t reply. ‘Anne!’

‘Stewy. Is it time to start worrying?’

Stewart almost cackled at the oddness of the question. After all,
worry
was something he’d felt a long time ago before there was really a cause for concern.
Worry
was what had kept him home from work, what had prompted the state of panic Anne knew he was in.

‘No, Anne. Not at all. We’ll be safe. We’re safe right where we are. They like to over-exaggerate the headlines. It makes it hard for us to switch the channel.’ He didn’t believe a word he was saying. But what was he supposed to tell her? All the things he’d been spewing in the past few months about the potential of the virus weren't fact. They were paranoia. However, the idea that a single passenger had infected almost everyone else on an airplane
was
fact. It was a fact that no matter how he tried to flip it; no matter how he tried to play it down, it was simply the scariest news they could have heard.

Before Stewart could offer even more consolation, Anne stopped him in his tracks. ‘Shh. I wanna hear this, Stewy.’

Stewart drew back and positioned himself closely to his wife. He thought about draping his arm over her shoulder but refrained from doing so in the fear that she’d sense the terror trembling through his entire body. The minute Stewart saw the look on the reporter’s face, his heart sunk even deeper into his chest. When she started to speak, he was sure it had stopped pounding.

 

‘The World Health Organization is calling for the passengers who took flight number SA184 from Liberia to Fort Lauderdale on September the 3
rd
, to get in contact with the necessary authorities. Reports have come in that a pregnant passenger, confirmed to be infected with the Ebola Virus Disease, may have infected a large number of the plane’s passengers as well as flight attendants.

Why was the infected passenger allowed on the airplane? How many people came in contact with the passenger? These are just a few of the questions citizens are demanding answers to. Officials from Liberia stated that the infected passenger did not reveal that she had been in contact with the virus, and had not shown symptoms prior to entering the airplane. However, things took a turn for the worst when a mere two hours after the flight had left Liberia, her condition deteriorated. Amongst these symptoms were vomiting which is believed to be the main source of bodily fluid the passengers came in contact with.

A flight attendant from the airline was quoted saying, ‘she was pregnant and so it wasn’t the strangest thing for her to be throwing up. I’ve been working as a flight attendant for over five years and it’s not the first time that I’ve come across an incident like this. My coworkers and I just tried to get the aisle and the bathroom cleaned up as much as possible and a couple of passengers pitched in to help. The last thing on my mind was Ebola. I mean, she was pregnant. Pregnant women throw up. Unfortunately, unlike the other cases this flight attendant had to deal with, these symptoms weren’t due to pregnancy...’

 

Stewart knew Anne had heard enough when she grabbed the remote from the television stand and forcefully clicked the Off button.

‘It’s okay, Anne.’ Stewart rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

Anne looked at her husband with tears welling in her eyes. ‘As though thinking my coworker was infected wasn’t enough. Now we’ve got to deal with this. Except there’s no happy ending here. This lady doesn’t have the flu and her poor baby… What’s going to happen? Oh gosh, all those people who were on the plane, and their families.’

Filled with panic himself, Stewart wasn’t sure how to comfort her. ‘They’re gonna find them—’

‘Find them? Sure, they’ll find them alright, but what about all the people they came in contact with? It’s been over three days now since that plane landed here. Who knows how many of them started to show symptoms and shrugged it off as the common cold, only to pass it on to more people than they can count on their fingers and toes?’

‘The average is eight days, Anne. So in all likelihood, even if a few of them are infected, they won’t be passing it on to anyone.’

‘Screw averages. I can’t… I just can’t… This is too much.’

She broke down in her husband’s arms and Stewart held onto her for dear life. The day really hadn’t gone in his wife’s favor and this news just added fuel to the fire. While holding her, all Stewart could think about was how bad things could get and how there was nothing he could do about it. Sure, he had a stockpile. Sure, he didn’t mind staying home. But Anne, she was outgoing. She loved work. She wouldn’t like being locked away twenty-four hours a day with him and his stockpile.

 

Chapter 5

 

Over the next few weeks, the virus wreaked havoc on Fort Lauderdale. One case here, another there and of course, more false alarms than one should have to deal with; it seemed as if no one was safe. With Fort Lauderdale International hospital being the main treatment center for Florida Ebola victims, Stewart and his wife felt as though staying home was the only option they had. In fact, their last trip out of their home was focused on getting all the things they believed they still needed. The grocery store and the hardware store were the only two stops they had made. Stewart had joked about wearing the hazmat suits he had bought online. On this final trip out of the confines of their home, it seemed as though everyone had heard that the grocery store cut their prices in half. Of course, this was not the case. Quite the contrary and Stewart spotted a few items with prices he was sure went up by a minimum of fifty percent. The shelves were empty, the register lines were long, parking spaces were a dime a dozen and the panic was evident. Every cough and sneeze led to scorned looks and whispers.

Anne had cashed in all her vacation days, something that her boss wasn’t necessarily happy about, considering the most of his employees were fighting for excuses to stay home. However, since Anne had never—in the five years she had been working for the company—taken a vacation, there was no saying ‘no.' At home, she occupied herself by dedicating her time to nurturing her vegetable garden.

 

***

 

‘I’m gonna head inside and get a drink. Want something?’

Stewart stuck the shovel into the ground and caught his breath. ‘Absolutely,’ he said, nodding profusely.

He retrieved the small towel he had so neatly tucked into his back pocket and swept it across his face. ‘Damn it,’ he sighed to himself, ‘how on earth do people enjoy going to the gym?’

He had been outside for a mere hour, shoveling away at the ground with the intention of digging holes deep enough to hold the trash they’d surely accumulate over the coming weeks. Though his wife had voiced her opinion on how ridiculous she found the idea, Stewart knew it was a necessity. Things were nowhere as bad as they could be. But with delays in trash pickup due to strikes and possible illnesses—though no one would confirm this detail—Stewart and Anne had seen a significant increase in the amount of trash their home housed on a biweekly basis.

‘Here you go, honey.’ Anne handed her husband a tall glass of lemonade with about a half a tray of ice cubes.

‘You’re the best,’ he replied, carefully retrieving the glass from her hand. Without pausing to firmly grasp the glass, he tilted it up and took a swig before losing his grip and spilling the juice all over himself.

Anne cracked up. ‘You’re like a little baby.’ 

‘More like a man who’s never worked out in his entire life.’ He picked the glass from the ground and set it down in an upright position. ‘Look at this. One more hour and I won’t have any skin left on my palms.’

There were blisters forming everywhere. However, this wouldn’t stop Stewart from digging away at the ground for as long as it was bright out. He knew that the time would come where going outside needed to be a quick deal and then, there’d be no chance of embarking on a one-man shoveling journey.

‘Gosh, Stewy. That doesn’t look good at all. Why didn’t you wrap something around it before you got to work?’

‘Didn’t think about it to be honest. Thought my hands were rough enough to deal with a little friction.’

‘Evidently not. Come, let’s go inside and get this dressed up. I don’t feel like having to giggle my way to sleep because of your whimpering.’

‘I’m just gonna finish up first. I mean, my muscles hurt more than these blisters.’

‘I don’t see why you’re doing this to yourself. It’s like torture.’

‘Nah. I see it more like a surefire way to get a good back rub and tending to from my wife.’

Anne chuckled. 'I’m sure you’re not out here rubbing skin off your hands for a little
tending to
. I’ll be back in a sec. I’m gonna get some bandages.’

‘So does that mean I won’t be getting a massage? I mean, come on. Look how great I did. These holes will hold more trash than the city dump.’

Anne didn’t answer.

Stewart watched as his wife walked away and he could almost see the smile stretched across her face. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d be rubbing each and every bit of tension out of his back before they went to bed. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel stressed and threatened by the Ebola outbreak that was holding the city hostage.

‘Vacation,’ he said to himself, remembering their conversation with Tim. ‘This here is the perfect vacation.’

‘Vacation!’ A boisterous voice chimed from a few feet away. ‘Can’t say I blame you, really. Except after news of that plane broke, I don’t think I’ll see setting foot on one of those for a while.’

‘Ah, Ed. How’s it going buddy?’

‘Nothing much really. Feels like I haven’t seen you in a good minute. What you been doing? Hiding away from the sun.’

‘More like the virus, to be honest. Gotta keep your distance from the center of the action these days.’

Stewart used the word ‘buddy’ very loosely. Ed was a lot of things, but Stewart’s ‘buddy’ wasn’t one of them. It wasn't that he didn’t try to like the guy; more that Ed made it increasingly hard. He was the kind of neighbor who didn’t miss a beat when it came to the happenings of the neighborhood and Stewart hated being spied on. Even more unnerving was Ed’s knack for gossiping, the way he knew
everything
about
everyone
and was never short of an opinion—that was a big turn off for Stewart.

Stewart decided to make a beeline for his house. Inside, Anne was pouring a fresh glass of lemonade. Stewart turned to his wife with a smile.  ‘Weren’t you supposed to bring me some bandages for my hand? Instead you had me suffering with the darn shovel.’

Anne made her way over to her Stewart, who was standing with his back pressed against the mahogany front door. ‘Oh sweetie, your hands were already bleeding. Plus, you pretty much hurried inside, right after me.’ She took his hands into hers and said with a grin, ‘Now, you’re not a boy anymore. I think you could use your hands getting a bit rugged. ’

‘Are you flirting with me, my love?’ Stewart removed one hand from her grasp and glided his fingers through her silky blonde hair.

‘Would you be opposed to such a thing?’ She blushed.

Stewart drew his wife closer in for a kiss, keeping his feet planted on the mat below. She wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing tightly as his tongue toyed with hers. Stewart's mind wandered back to the moment when they first kissed; the nervousness he felt as he placed his lips on hers. Now, even after so many years of being married, he still had butterflies fluttering his in stomach.

Before things got any further, Stewart pulled away. ‘I can think of just the thing to replace that massage you owe me.’ He smiled.

‘I can think of something I can’t refuse,’ Anne shot back.

‘Let me get washed up first and I’ll meet you in the bedroom. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Anne agreed.

Stewart carefully untied his laces, trying hard to prevent even the smallest trace of dirt making its way onto the hardwood floors. One by one, he slipped out of his boots, with his hand pressed against the door for support.

He admired Anne as she made her way upstairs, amazed at how she managed to maintain such a neat body. He’d heard all the horror stories before he has said ‘I do’.
You’re going to have to love her even when she’s big and round
, his cousin Erick had teased. His mom, prior to her passing, had made him promise that he’d love Anne even when the wrinkles set in. This had a lot to do with his parents getting divorced because his dad just couldn’t come to terms with the way her beauty seemed to slip away as the years piled on. However, Stewart saw things differently. To him, the years didn’t show on Anne. In fact, every time he laid eyes on her, she looked just as mesmerizing as she did that first day.

He dusted the dirt off his pants and removed them too, before making his way up the stairs and into the bathroom. Reaching behind the door, his fingers felt around for the light switch and with one click, the room was illuminated. He squinted his eyes before turning on the tap and allowing the cool water to soothe his blisters. ‘Ah, that feels good,’ he sighed.

Not usually a guy for cold showers, he surprised himself by turning the shower dial to blue instead of red. Upon entering the shower, he immediately regretted his decision. He hated the cold. That’s one of the reasons that he’d stayed in Florida and so it was silly of him to think that even on the hottest of days, a cold shower would be the slightest bit enjoyable.

The water quickly went from cold to lukewarm and Stewart closed his eyes and reveled in the way it felt beating down on his head and over his shoulders. More time than he had imagined must have slipped away because his head shot up when he heard Anne’s voice.

‘You’re not going to make me wait forever, are you?’

‘I’ll be out in just a minute,’ he yelled back. As quickly as he could manage, he washed himself and exited the shower.

In the bedroom, Anne was wrapped under a thin blanket with a book in her hand. ‘Took you long enough,’ she mumbled as Stewart entered the room with nothing but a towel clinging to his waist.

Stewart’s eyes widened as he watched his wife remove the blanket and reveal the sexy lingerie she had tucked herself into. Like a nerdy high school boy, he covered his eyes with his hands and peeked through his fingers.

Anne patted the side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in beside her. He was thrilled at how eager she was to wrap her arms around him. It didn’t take much for him to give in and lose himself in his wife. Though they hadn’t been as bunny-like as were when they first met, they hadn't lacked any kind of intimacy until recent virus-related events. Stewart was definitely over the moon that they’d managed to rediscover the fire in their relationship.

After cuddling for a good half an hour, Anne informed Stewart that she was going to make them something to eat. ‘Any preferences?’

‘Not at all,’ he replied and went back into relaxation mode.

It wasn’t before long that he’d drifted away into a slumber, only to be woken by his wife who stood before him with a platter of food: a salad made from freshly picked tomatoes, accompanied by a side of garlic bread.

‘Looks great,' he said, taking the tray from his wife.

‘Let’s hope it tastes as great as it looks,’ she replied.

‘I’m sure it does.’ Stewart pushed himself up to plant a kiss on his wife’s forehead.

Together, they sat in bed and enjoyed their meal. Stewart thought about flicking on the television to catch up on the news but decided that he didn’t want to ruin the day with negativity. He was sure that there wasn’t much being reported, outside of the fact that everyone should be, ‘afraid… very afraid.’

 

***

 

A few hours later, Stewart was rubbing away at his eyes, trying to fight the sleepiness that overcame him. He walked over to the window at the opposite end of the bedroom, did a quick look out the building, to see that Ed was playing peeping Tom as usually.

‘What you looking at?’ Anne asked, pulling her eyes away from her book for a quick second.

‘Ah, nothing,’ Stewart replied before pulling the elegantly striped curtains closed.

Back in bed, he said goodnight to his wife, who asked if it was okay if she kept the lights on to read for a bit longer. Stewart didn’t have a problem with this. It had been a while since his wife had had her nose buried in a good book. For a moment, he imagined what it would be like to have no worries in the world and to be sipping Mojitos on a tropical island with his wife. He imagined what it would be like to see the other men on the island fill with envy as his wife flaunted her perfect self on the beach. He knew that everyone would wonder, like Tim did, how he managed to make her his, and this would definitely make him smile. Perhaps he would suck it up, one the pandemic subsided, and treat them both to a much needed vacation.

He turned to Anne. ‘We should go to Jamaica.'

‘Jamaica?’

‘Yeah, you seemed so interested when Tim was talking about vacation. Jamaica’s just like an hour away. Plus, I’d love to see you dance to some good old Bob and the Wailers.’

Anne reached over and patted Stewart on the head. ‘I love you,’ she said.

‘I love you more,' he replied.

Not too long after, Stewart was fast asleep. The shoveling had really done a number on him and though he didn’t usually snore, tonight, he let out a few loud ones. He dreamt of a place that was as close to paradise as he could imagine. Lost in waters as blue as the skies, he felt free, without worry and completely and utterly whole. Vacationers sped by on their jet skis and in the distance, he saw his wife tucked away under a big yellow umbrella. There was no Ebola, no rioting, no need to panic. At least not at first. He heard something. Was it Anne? No, it sounded more like a man, like Ed. What on earth was Ed doing in his dreams? Surely, there was some gossip that needed to be told. Ed’s gossips were the least of his worries. In his dreams, he scoured the beach to see if he did indeed see Ed. The screaming got louder and then there was a hand on his shoulder.

BOOK: Prepper's Sacrifice
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