Chapter 13
ALEX
Alex nestled further into the covers, but no amount of blankets could shake the deep, bone-chilling cold that gripped him.
His skin was clammy, and every inch of his body ached as if he’d been hit by a truck.
He suppressed the violent shudder that threatened to shake him, not wanting to alert Ava to just how bad he felt.
He tried not to shift around too much, trying to convince Ava and himself that he wasn’t as sick as he felt at this moment. It was probably just the lying around that was getting to him along with the stress.
He didn’t want to go back to that hospital. At least he had gotten out of that and managed to keep Ava at the motel with him, too.
It wasn’t much better here than it had been at the hospital, though.
The motel’s damp, musty smell seemed to cling to everything—the walls, the sheets, even his skin.
It was suffocating. Alex’s throat felt tight, like the air itself was thick with disease.
In the silence between Ava’s movements, he could almost hear the town dying around them—one breath at a time.
It was as if Hemlock Falls itself had become infected, and the sickness was closing in on them, relentless and inevitable.
The ache in his neck, back, and knees had increased since he had awoken. Of course, the horrible mattress didn’t help.
He fidgeted a little, shifting his gaze from the laptop, where the security cameras captured the chaos in the hospital to the screen where the ridiculous romantic comedy played out before it went to commercial. How antiquated, he thought, as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
It was a losing battle, and within minutes, the noise of the television grew further and further away until it disappeared completely.
Another noise pulled him out of his dozing, and he ignored it at first, nausea rolling over him in a wave before it started to pass. He wanted to roll over and go right back to sleep, but the sound of Ava’s voice brought him closer to reality.
“Tell me it’s good news.”
The silence that stretched after those words made him force his eyes open. He squinted against the bright light in the room, letting them slide closed again.
“So, what should I do?” Ava asked.
A wall of heat made him sweat, and he tossed back the covers with a grimace.
“Babe?” Ava asked, the phone still pressed to her ear.
“I’m just hot,” he murmured.
“He’s awake. He dozed off before,” she said into the phone. “Yeah…yeah…okay. Okay, I will. Thanks, Doc.”
Alex shifted onto his side, his cheek pressing against the hot fabric of the pillowcase.
Ava tossed the phone onto the comforter as she turned to face them, her lower lip jutting out into a pout. “So, some not great news…”
“What is it? Do I have Legionnaire’s disease from this stupid damp motel room?”
“No,” she said, reaching out to stroke his hair. He detected a barely perceptible tremor in her hand.
Were there tears forming in her eyes?
“So, Doc did the test a few times…and you have the flu.”
“What?” Alex asked, trying to prop himself up on his elbow. “That can’t be right. Call him back and tell him to do it again.”
“Babe, he did it three times,” Ava said softly, trying to mask the tremble in her voice.
“Well, then make him do it a fourth!” Alex’s voice cracked as panic surged in his chest. “I don’t care how many times he’s done it—I can’t have this, Avs.” His stomach churned violently, his throat tightening. “I can’t—” His words caught in his throat, the reality too heavy to speak aloud.
His stomach turned over again, the breakfast sandwich Ava had brought him threatening to come back up.
“Okay, Alex, Doc said that I should try to keep you calm and quiet. He also said that you should try to get up and walk around every hour or so and that I should give you both ibuprofen and acetaminophen, then monitor your temperature.” She pushed back the covers as she climbed from the bed.
Calm and quiet. Yeah, right. As if Alex could be calm while his mind raced with a thousand worst-case scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. He didn’t want Ava to see how scared he was, didn’t want to burden her with the weight of his fear.
But every time he closed his eyes, he saw rows of hospital beds filled with pale, lifeless bodies—and the image of himself among them.
“Where are you going?”
“To the pharmacy to get a thermometer. If I can. I wouldn’t be surprised if they town hasn’t bought them all out already.”
Alex pushed up to sit, the room spinning around him. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, but I do want you to sit up while I’m gone, then we’ll get you up and walking when I get back.” She crossed to her bag and dug into it, pulling out a few pill bottles.
“Avs, I promise, I’m fine. I bet the test was faulty.”
Ava spilled two pills from one, and two from another and offered them to him along with a bottle of water. “I’m not taking any chances, Ace. Now, take those. I’m heading to the pharmacy. I won’t be long.”
She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder.
“Hey, grab some cool snacks while you’re out,” he called, trying to sound like he felt better than he did. Maybe the snacks would help.
He was probably just rundown from all the stress. He grabbed his laptop as the door clicked closed behind Ava to search for the false positive rate of the flu test.
It looked like depending on the test Kyle used, it could be less than one percent or as high as four percent. Alex wrinkled his nose at the low numbers. Even on the high end, that wasn’t a great chance that he was actually not sick with the flu and the test showed he was.
He reached for his phone, shivering as his shirt rubbed against his skin and irritated it. He’d call Kyle and asked which type of test. There was no way he had that horrible flu that was killing people in droves.
With his phone in hand, he dialed Kyle’s number.
“Mav? You okay?” Kyle asked.
“No, I’m not,” Alex answered. “Tell me this could be a false positive.”
“I wouldn’t say that’s likely,” Kyle answered. “We did the test three times. That’s three false positives.”
Alex did the math in his head, his shoulders slumping as he closed his stinging eyes. “Come on, Doc, you’re not saying the right things.”
“Sorry, Mav. This stinks. And I’m doing everything I can to make sure we can tackle this.”
“Tackle this? Dude, seventy percent of people who get this are going to die.” Panic welled inside Alex, his palms turning sweaty as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m trying to find a solution here, but…it’s not looking good with any of the standard treatments. Not even combining them is giving us a good result. Is Ava there?”
“She went to the store to get a thermometer.”
Kyle heaved a sigh. “I should have left mine with you.”
“Well, you didn’t, and it’s fine, because I do not have the stupid flu. I am not dying from this manufactured bug by The Board.”
“Mav…” Kyle began when a loud noise sounded on his end of the line.
Alex’s features pinched as alarm bells rang.
“Doctor, he’s crashing.”
Kyle cursed under his breath. “Gotta run, Mav. I’ll call Ava soon.”
The line clicked, and Alex pulled the phone away from his ear, wrinkling his nose at it. It sounded like chaos at the hospital.
He didn’t want to be a part of that chaos. Alex pressed his lips together, panic welling up inside him. What if he got sicker? What if he became one of the patients in need of critical care?
Tears burned his eyes as his lower lip trembled, another shiver shaking him. He slouched a little further into the bed, tugging the covers higher. Suddenly, he wanted Ava to be back immediately. He wanted her to crawl into bed with him and hold his hand so he could tether himself to this world.
He swallowed hard, pulling his laptop closer and watching the feeds from the hospital. People filled the rooms and halls, spilling into any space they could find.
He couldn’t become a casualty of this war. He had to stay out of the hospital. If he could just beat this…
His eyes started to feel heavy again. He struggled to keep them open, now afraid to fall asleep because he may never wake up.
With his insides twisted into a tight knot and tears burning his eyes, he grabbed the sheets, squeezing them between his clenched fists as he rode out another wave of nausea.
Ava popped back into the hotel room a few moments later just as his stomach started to ease. “Hey, babe, how are you feeling?”
He couldn’t answer, too afraid he’d break down after his conversation with Kyle.
“Alex?” she asked as she ripped the packaging open and pulled out a thermometer.
“Yeah, umm, okay.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “You don’t look okay.”
“Yeah, I feel a little nauseous,” he said, doing his best to act like it wasn’t dire.
“Maybe from the pills. I brought you some cheese balls and some orange soda. Even some candy. But how about if we start with a protein bar?”
The thought of food made him want to vomit. “Ugh, pass.”
She grabbed the tip of his ear and tugged it upward before she slid the thermometer inside his ear canal for a few seconds until it beeped.
“Well?” he asked.
“Still pretty close to one-oh-one.”
The words hit him like a physical slap, leaving him raw.
“It hasn’t been that long since you took the meds, though. Let’s get some food into you and see if we can get them working, okay?”
“I don’t want to eat, Ava.”
“Well, tough, Alex. You need to eat.” She unwrapped the chocolatey protein bar and shoved it toward him. “Eat it.”
He tugged it from her hands with a shake of his head. “Fine. Only because you can beat me up.”
He took a bite of it, his saliva thickening as it turned his stomach. “Ugh, it’s awful.”
“Sorry, babe. I got the best flavors they had.”
“You should eat one too,” he said as he munched on the chewy granola. “You need to stay healthy.”
She nodded as she climbed into bed next to him and opened another bar, biting into it. “Ew. These are gross.”
“I told you. It’s literally nasty. You can tell its health food.” He took another bite of his, a deep grimace etching lines into his face as he chewed.
“Well, we are suffering together here. For lunch, I’ll go into town and try to get you real food.”
“Real infected food. Maybe we should order from the next town over,” Alex suggested.
“Maybe,” she answered as she checked her phone.
“I just talked to Doc. Gave him hell over that wrong test. It sounds like he has his hands full.”
Ava heaved a sigh. “Yeah, and it sounds like nothing he’s doing is working at all.”
“Nope,” Alex answered with a shake of his head. “Let’s hope that changes soon.”
She nodded as she polished off her protein bar and dusted her hands. “Yeah, I hope he finds some solution here. Things just seem to be getting worse.”
Alex shifted in the bed, uncomfortable all over and with the conversation. “Avs, I just want you to know that if something happens—"
“Don’t,” she said with a shake of her head, tears shining in her eyes. “Please, don’t say that, Alex. Don’t give up.”
“I’m not, Ava, I just…I have the flu. And not many people are going to survive this.”
“Yeah, but Doc is going to do everything he can to make sure you’re one of the ones who does. That’s why he’s wants you up and walking, taking the variety of fever reducers, all of that. He’s giving you the best shot you can have.”
“I know that babe, I do, but—” His voice cracked, and he squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles as if trying to memorize the feel of her touch.
“I need you to know that I love you… and that’s why I’m scared.
” His eyes, glassy with fever, met hers.
“Because I can’t stand the thought of leaving you, Avs. Not like this. Not now.”
Ava’s features pinched as he said the words. “Alex, please, don’t. This sounds like you’re already saying goodbye.”
“I’m not. I’m definitely not. I just…thanks for taking care of me.”
She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers between his. “I will be here no matter what, Alex.”
He smiled, the simple motion wearing on him. “Okay, I’m going to go on my walkabout here so I can climb back in bed and try to rest. I’m going to fight this with everything I have.”
She nodded, brushing away a tear that had fallen to her cheek as she rose with him. He leaned on her as he ambled around the room, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to send him sprawling onto the gross, stained carpet.
He did a few passes around the room before he tumbled back into bed. He seemed to be feeling worse by the minute.
The faces of the sick from the hospital flashed before his eyes—their hollow stares, their gaunt skin stretched tight over bones, the rasping breath of those whose lungs were failing.
He didn’t want to end up like them, but a dark voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was only a matter of time.
He was already slipping—fading—soon, he’d be just another body in a hospital bed, fighting for air, waiting for the end.