The Flu 1/2 (25 page)

“Tom,” Mick called out and picked up his pace. He didn’t stop to knock; he just walked in. “Tom.”

“Morning, Michael.” Marian smiled then patted him on the cheek and set down a flowered duffle bag.

“What the hell’s going on?” Mick looked at the luggage. “Marian?”

Marian only smiled before exhaling. Saying nothing, she turned and headed to the stairs.

“OK,” Mick spoke to himself. “No one is speaking to me.” He spotted Tom in the kitchen. “Tom.” Mick marched that way. He froze when he saw Tom placing food in a box. “Tom, what is going on?”

“What’s it look like?”

“You’re packing.”

“Aren’t you an Einstein?” Tom quipped. “Had to be that quick wit that got you the chief job, lord knows the size of your balls didn’t land it for you.”

“Ex...excuse me?” Mick was confused. “My balls?”

“You haven’t got any,” Tom snapped. “None. And I ain’t talking about what’s dangling between—”

“Okay, all right.” Mick cringed as he held up his hand. “Why are you packing?”

Tom stopped. He locked eyes with Mick for a moment then shook his head. “Have you heard the news? There’s a strong flu bug running around.”

“I know that.”

“But you don’t know the truth if you’re just listening to the news. Go on the internet.”

“The internet is still running?” Mick asked surprised.

“We have phones, don’t we?” Tom asked. “Some sites are down. Some aren’t. I went on the Minute Man Militia site last night. You have to see the pictures they have snuck out of LA. Bodies, Mick. Bodies in dump trucks, bodies burning. These aren’t the pictures that they’re showing on the news. This flu is bad. This flu is really bad.”

“I know this, Tom.”

“It may have shut down the country. It may have shut down Lodi, but I’ll be goddamned if I’m gonna let it shut down my life or the lives of my family.”

“So you’re leaving?”

“Absolutely,” Tom said strongly. “We’re going to Uncle Herb’s cabin down in West Virginia. Wait it out there. Figured out a non-quarantined route, packing up Marian, Dylan and the boys...”

“Whoa!” Mick stepped to him. “You are not taking Dylan and the boys. No. They stay right here.”

“They go with me.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Fine then...where’s my shotgun?” Tom turned around as if to search.

“Tom, this is ridiculous. I need you in Lodi.”

“There’s nothing left in Lodi. It’s a shell like the rest of the world.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” Mick’s voice dropped. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I didn’t have the balls. I do now.” On the counter next to Tom, Mick laid the sign that was on the video store’s door.

Tom looked at his sign. “You certainly do have balls taking down my sign.”

Mick had to chuckle. “No, Tom. I’m not talking about taking your sign down. I’m talking about taking down the ordinance.”

“Explain,” Tom said snidely, as if he didn’t believe Mick.

“The ordinance to shut down all businesses. Well, I’m ignoring that. I took down your sign because I want you to open the store back up. Start it, Tom. Get every business to do the same. Open back up. Things are gonna start happening. There’s a plan....” Mick dropped his hand onto the sign. “The world around us may be dying, but we’re keeping Lodi alive.”

Lodi, Ohio

Why me?
thought Patrick, syringe with vaccine in one hand and a small arm in the other. Eight doctors in addition to Lars had gathered to administer the shots, and Patrick was the lucky one who had to vaccinate Tigger. The child’s tiny arm was lost in Patrick’s hand, and he just stared at it.

“It’s just a shot,” Tigger said.

“I know.”

“Are you afraid?”

“No. Yes.” Patrick looked around the gymnasium for help from someone, anyone, and then Lars approached.

“Trouble?” Lars asked.

“Yes.” Patrick stated in relief. “Can you give Tigger the shot? His arm is so small I’m afraid I’ll hit the bone.”

“You won’t hit the bone.” Lars assured.

“I’m afraid I’ll hit the bone.”

After watching what seemed a ping pong match of words, Tigger interjected. “Can one of you give the shot? People are waiting.”

Lars, shaking his head, took the syringe. “Baby.” Holding Tigger’s arm in the palm of his hand, Lars pinched the flesh and prepared to give the injection.

“Hi, Mick,” Tigger said brightly when Mick approached.

“Hey, you.” Mick rubbed Tigger’s head then looked at Lars. “You’re gonna hit the bone.”

Patrick tossed up his hand. “I told him that.”

With seldom seen irritability, Lars enunciated slowly, “I am not going to hit the bone. Watch.” He injected the syringe.

Tigger let out a high-pitched screech. “You hit the bone.” After he saw all concerned eyes were upon him, he smiled. “Kidding.”

Laughing, Mick lifted Tigger from the table and set him down. “Good job. And Lars is tough. See?” Mick lifted his tee shirt sleeve. “I’m bruising.”

Lars watched the pair walk off, Tigger barely topping Mick’s knees. He looked crossly at Patrick. “Hit the bone,” Lars scoffed in disgust, then, shaking his head, he too walked off.

The next person stepped forward and Patrick’s eyes went from Lars to the woman. “I still say, he could have hit the bone. Don’t you?”

Mick figured that once word got out that vaccines were available, the people of Lodi would come to the school gym for their injections. He just didn’t figure it would work that well and that quickly.

The small gym was packed, and he was grateful that his height allowed him to be able to see his destination. So many people waited inside, and more waited on the other side of the doors. They lined up by the tables and moved around as if it were a social event. Most of the people waited for the tiny cup of juice Marian Roberts handed out at her little table she had set up as if she were a Red Cross volunteer.

Mick squeezed through, trying to make it across to the other side of the gymnasium. He held onto Tigger’s tiny hand for dear life, then, fearing he’d break the little fingers, Mick gave up. “Tigger,” he reached down and picked him up, “I know you hate to be carried, but humor me.”

“I hate this,” Tigger complained as he perched upon Mick’s hip like a two year old. “Kids I was supposed to go to school with will see me. They’ll think I’m a baby.”

“They’ll think you’re cool.” After adjusting Tigger, Mick realized that he’d lost his bearings, so before moving any farther in the wrong direction, Mick peered easily over the top of the crowd.

“Mick.” Dustin tapped on his arm.

“Ah.” Mick heaved a sigh of relief as he turned to Dustin. “Tell me you got your shot.”

“I did,” Dustin answered.

Tigger seized the ‘big brother’ opportunity before him. “Dustin, tell Mick to stop carrying me like a baby.”

“He has to carry you like a baby, you’re-pint sized, people will trample you. You think he’s carrying you like that ‘cause he wants to?” Dustin lectured. “He doesn’t...or do you, Mick?”

“No.” Mick continued to look around.

“Mick, you need to do something about Chris,” Dustin said.

Quickly, Mick looked at him. “Bingo. That’s who I’m searching for, do you know which table?”

“Fourth. Dr. Lyons,” Dustin answered.

“Good let’s....” Mick moved forward but was stopped when a woman approached him.

“Chief,” she said, “I hear there’s gonna be an assembly of sorts to explain all that’s going on.”

“Yes, Lil.” Mick, holding Tigger, his hand on Dustin’s shoulder, tried to get by her.

Again, she stopped him. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Now if I did that, then I wouldn’t have to have an assembly. If I don’t have an assembly, I’m gonna be having to tell everyone what I told you. Understand?”

Confused, Lil looked at him.

“Good.” Mick smiled. He hurriedly led the boys away.

Nearing table four, Mick spotted the problem. Chris. He wanted to make it there before Chris did it again, and Mick was close to missing his opportunity. Handing Tigger to Dustin, eyes focused, Mick moved closer to table four.

He had watched Chris do it three times prior, but Mick was too busy to stop it. He wasn’t at that moment, and Mick was determined there wouldn’t be a fourth time.

Mick watched Chris prepare his escape. He bounced nervously as he moved closer to the doctor, stepped up a place in line, looked around, then as he nearly reached the front of the line, Chris again darted from the line and headed all the way to the back. He smirked, thinking that he was home free, but just then a huge hand dropped onto the back of his neck.

“No, you don’t.” Mick held on tightly, turning Chris around and guiding him back to the front of the line. “Not again.”

“But, Mick,” Chris argued, his feet dragging rather than moving on their own, “I don’t want to get the shot.”

“You’re getting the shot,” Mick insisted, planting him firmly in front of Dr. Lyons. “Hit him.”

“What?” Chris gasped.

“With the shot,” Mick stated.

Chris’ eyes widened as he watched the needle approach him. “No. No.” He backed up “I don’t trust him, Mick. I don’t know him.”

Mick nodded. “I see, so that’s the problem?” he asked with patient understanding. “You don’t know the doctor.”

“Yeah,” Chris replied nervously.

“Not a problem.” After a hidden wink to the doctor, Mick held out his hand. “Doc.” He gripped the syringe given to him.

Chris let out a jittery chuckle. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope, not at all.” Mick checked out the syringe. “So, Doctor, I just stick this in his arm and push the little plunger here?”

“Yep,” Dr. Lyons answered. “Make sure all the vaccine goes in.”

“Got it.” Mick grabbed Chris’ arm and revved the syringe back as far and high as he could reach.

“Wait!” Chris shouted in horror while hunching over, protecting his arm. “Just let the doctor do it.”

Still holding on to Chris, Mick handed the doctor the syringe. He held tight until the doctor was finished.

Chris whined sarcastically, “Thanks.” With a pout, he stepped from the line.

“All that pissing around and this could have been done with a while ago,” Mick scolded. “See, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Yeah, well...” Chris rubbed his arm, “if it isn’t that bad how come you don’t make Mom get hers?”

Mick smiled smugly. “Mom got hers.”

“No she didn’t. Look,” Chris pointed.

As he turned, Mick saw Dylan. She sat in a chair in a corner of the gym, nearly hidden behind Marian. “Hook up with your brothers and go on outside, it’s too crowded in here,” Mick instructed.

“You gonna yell at Mom?” Chris asked, following closely.

“Yep. She’s gonna get that shot.” With determination evident in his demeanor, Mick walked straight through the crowd to Dylan. “Hey.”

Dylan’s eyes widened. “Mick? I thought you were busy being traffic director in here.”

“No. Right now I’m playing shot director for the people I love.”

Dylan snickered. “That’s nice of you.” She folded her arms and watched her mother.

“Did you get your shot?” Mick asked.

Dylan looked at him then quickly looked away.

“Dylan.”

“No,” she answered.

“Get your shot, Dylan.”

“Later.” She shooed him away.

“Now,” Mick insisted.

“Mick, hush. Later.”

“Fine.” Wanting no more arguments, and wanting to make sure Dylan got her shot, Mick leaned down, lifted Dylan, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her to the nearest line

“Hey!” She smacked his back. “Put me....” she felt herself being eased to the floor, “down.” She tried to make her escape.

“Nope.” Mick held out his arm and looked to the doctor. “Give this woman the vaccine right now, before she—”

“Chief,” Officer Haddock said, hurrying over to him. “Glad I found you.”

Mick looked around then back to Haddock. “I can understand if I was Dylan. Or even you. But how did you miss me?”

Officer Haddock shrugged. “Don’t know. But...we need you down at Main. We’ve got a problem at the checkpoint.”

“Bad?” Mick asked.

Again, Haddock shrugged. “Could be, but not in a violent way. Your call, but it should be handled now.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Mick started to leave but stopped. He looked back at Dylan, who stood before the doctor. “Get that shot, Dylan. No excuses.”

Dylan rolled her eyes, folded her arms and nodded her head, then she happily watched Mick leave the gymnasium.

* * *

Even though Haddock had labeled the situation non-violent, he still told Mick it was bad. And Mick didn’t know what ‘bad’ entailed. Haddock was vague, as he always was, so instead of beating his head against the wall in frustration trying to get the facts from him, Mick just rode his bike to the main road that led into town, the checkpoint that Mick knew was likely to get the most action.