This is a fictional story. All names, places, and viruses are used fictitiously. Resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, past or present, are intentional.
If you haven’t read from the beginning, please start at Chapter 1 here.
***
Due Date: 73 days away
We woke up to gunshots.
I squinted into the night, trying to see through a crack in the building to what was happening outside the walls below us. Kenneth was right behind me.
We still had about 15 minutes until my alarm would go off, but we’d slept longer than I thought we would. Shepherd stirred but continued sleeping.
“Can you stay with him?” I whispered. “I’m going to see what’s going on.”
I circled to the other side of the complex where I could see down Liberty Street. From the third floor, I could see all the way to the freeway. Throngs of people gathered there, lit up with fires on the road. Even with the distance, I could see rifles. I knew there must be plenty of concealed carries too.
Jerry was right.
They’d barricaded the off-ramp.
Between streets, I could see various levels of fortifications, leading around that side of our city. Not as many people patrolled the other areas, from what I could tell, but they wouldn’t need to. As long as they stopped the bulk of traffic off the freeway, the smaller streets would be easy.
I could only assume they’d blocked off the rest of downtown too.
Where were all the police? No one trying to stop this?
Liz called before my alarm went off.
“I have good news and bad news.”
“Bad news first,” I said.
“Kenneth’s dad called me. He’s in the hospital. He doesn’t sound good. He’s been trying to call Kenneth.”
His phone was probably turned off again.
“The good news is,” she continued, “they’re saying I might get to go home soon.”
We wrapped up on the phone pretty quickly, so I could have Kenneth call his dad.
“Is your phone charged?” I asked him.
It wasn’t. It was buried in the bottom of his bag, without a charger.
“You didn’t bring one?” I said.
This wasn’t a little problem anymore. Not being able to reach him could become critical. He had to get this together.
“Here, use mine. You need to call him.”
He plugged in my charging cord to his phone, waited for it to power up, and then made the call over Facetime.
Kenneth’s step-mom answered.
“Can I talk to your mom?” she said.
Kenneth glanced at me.
“She’s in the hospital. I’m with Ben. Do you want to talk to him?”
I took the phone back and stepped away from Kenneth at the same time.
“Hi, it’s Ben.”
“Kenneth needs to talk to his dad.” She took a deep breath and looked away from the camera. “I’m not sure, I’m not sure he’s going to make it through the day.”
“What do you mean?”
“The doctors here, they’re telling us to say our goodbyes.”
“What?” We didn’t even know he was sick a few minutes ago. “What are they doing for him? Is he on a respirator?”
“No, but they’re doing everything they can. They said a respirator would be too invasive. They’re trying to make him comfortable.” She put her hand over her mouth. “He was so strong on Saturday. I wouldn’t have even, I didn’t even…”
I didn’t know what to say. I tried to think of what Liz would say.
“It’s going to be okay.” I looked straight into the camera. “Listen to me. It’s going to be okay. I don’t know how, but.” I nodded my head.
“Can you tell him for me? Kenneth? I don’t think I can.”
“I’m right here still,” Kenneth said.
He must have heard the whole conversation.
“It’s okay,” I said to him. “You should know. He needs to hear from you.”
I handed him the phone.
On the other side, Ken’s phone passed from his wife to someone I didn’t recognize, through some doors, finally to Ken.
“They said to tell you goodbye,” Kenneth said.
“Ah, buddy. Don’t pay any attention to that. Don’t…” I was choking up just listening to him try not to. “Don’t worry. I’m going to pull through. I always do.”
“Do we need to fly him up to see you?” I said. I didn’t mean to barge into their conversation. I just couldn’t come to terms with this. “I don’t even know how—”
“Come on, Ben. You know, we can’t do that.” Ken coughed. “I’ll get through this. I know I don’t look, or sound, so good.” He tried to laugh, but it turned into a cough too.
We could tell he was struggling to speak. It felt like he was using all his energy just to communicate with his son.
I let Kenneth talk to him in private.
A few minutes later, Kenneth brought the phone back to me, still on the call.
“Anything else you wanted to say, Ben?”
I looked back into the camera at the man propped up in a hospital bed.
“Hang in there, okay?”
He didn’t.
Not even an hour later, his wife called us back.
She didn’t say a word.
Not for a while.
She just cried.
And we did too.
For him. For her. For us.
We hung up the phone, and I hugged Kenneth into my chest.
And I cried for Liz, hearing the pain of a wife losing her husband, hearing it on the other side of a phone. I didn’t think I could handle losing Liz. And the baby? I couldn’t.
And I cried for Kenneth.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” I said.
He looked up at me, pulled away from my arms, and left the room to be alone.
