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“Mateo is sick,” he said, a shattered look on his face. “And Sadie’s dead.”

11

JULIAN

Monday came, but I didn’t go back to work. We worked from home for a few days, and then we were informed that the firm would be shutting down through the worst of the pandemic. That’s what things had evolved into, and my fears had come true.

I was confined to an empty home.

Time seemed to slow. With no one to talk to, silence swallowed the house, and I bore it like the probing of a wound. I kept the TV off, didn’t play music, and hardly spoke to Samson. The deathly quiet stretched the nighttime hours until each evening felt like a week.

Whenever I did check my phone or flipped on the TV, reports blared on every station about the flu. Emily and I talked once a day, but so far we’d both decided to stay in our own homes. By the end of the week, sitting at home alone felt like a fresh hell, so I decided to follow my mom’s advice and head to the cabin for the rest of the imposed vacation. It would be wonderful to escape the city. The fresh mountain air would be a welcome change from the house’s stuffy confines.

I called Emily and asked her to join me, but she politely declined. I understood. She had family nearby and would be fine. So I loaded my Subaru with most of what Samson and I would need for two weeks, watered my houseplants, and asked the neighbor to collect my mail.

I stopped by the grocery store along the way to pick up enough food to tide me over, but when I arrived, I was shocked by what I found—or didn’t find. The hoarders were out in full force. The shelves were nearly empty, and the items people were buying up were surprising. I could understand toilet paper, bread, milk, baby food, and canned goods. But who hoarded tinfoil, cat litter, and makeup? It was mind-boggling.

It felt odd to shop at my usual store while wearing a mask and trying to avoid getting too close to other shoppers. It seemed like a scene from a disaster movie and brought back unwelcome memories of the last pandemic we’d been through. I just hoped it wouldn’t be as bad or last as long as the last one.

I scanned the aisles for familiar ingredients. Even with the shelves picked over, I found enough to get by. I was going to cook some very creative meals, though. Looking over the strange assortment in my cart, I realized I might not need any of it. If I knew my dad, there was probably enough food stored at the cabin to last through a small apocalypse. My dad wasn’t quite in prepper territory, but he wasn’t far off, either. Besides, the cabin was only two hours from Seattle, and there was bound to be a grocery store somewhere along the route.

With everything I’d bought loaded into my blue hatchback, I drove out of the city—or tried to. I wasn’t the only one with the same idea, and traffic crawled at a snail’s pace until I was well past the city limits. It wasn’t until I passed the airport and turned east that speeds picked up.

One road led to another as I headed farther southeast. Eventually, I turned off the two-lane highway onto a gravel road that led to my parents’ cabin. The crunch of stones under my tires felt comfortingly familiar. I drove through the dense forest and up the mountainside until I reached the driveway. My mom and dad chose this secluded spot because they preferred the company of trees to other people on vacation. Their address was the only one along the stretch of road, with the nearest neighbor half a mile away. It was the perfect escape from the city.

I pulled up to the two-bedroom wooden structure nestled deep in the pines. It was just as I remembered, though a little overgrown. Weeds covered the clearing, and something was growing from a corner of the roof. I decided to tackle some basic repairs and yard work while I was there. It would be nice to have something to keep me busy.

My phone buzzed as soon as I stepped out of the car. It was a text from my dad. I smiled down at the phone. My parents would join me in three days. I was glad my mom and dad were isolating from the worst of the flu, but I was also desperately looking forward to their company. The relief I felt was nearly crippling. I’d been handed a lifeline. I wouldn’t have to do this alone.

We would weather this thing together. I would get the cabin all set up for the three of us. It would force me to explain Mark’s absence, but I would have had to tell them sooner or later. And, honestly, the pain wasn’t as bad as it had been. I breathed in the fresh air. It was going to be okay.

I unpacked the car and arranged what I’d brought into the smaller bedroom. Samson and I had been here several times over the years, and this bedroom was where we usually stayed. It was colder than during our typical visits, but Samson still pawed at the door to go out and explore—a luxury he wasn’t allowed back in the city. I let him out, made myself a snack, and settled in front of the TV, switching on the news. This would be the perfect spot to wait out the next two weeks.

12

VINCENT

The following week, I watched from my apartment as events escalated dramatically. The news shifted from concern to panic. People infected with the novel virus were not recovering, and the death toll was rising at an alarming rate. Some claimed the virus was a death sentence, with no one surviving. Authorities enacted lockdowns to halt the spread. City streets emptied, and hospitals became so overwhelmed that many municipal buildings were repurposed for the sick and dying. The nightly news highlighted both the best and worst of humanity. I marveled at how the cities ripped themselves apart and held themselves together at the same time.

Nathaniel and Jonathan did everything they could, but they couldn’t nurse Mateo through the devastating effects of the tainted blood, and he was lost as well. After Mateo and Sadie, we all stayed close to our homes. I realized how fortunate I’d been. My age and strength, along with Karl’s help, let me get through that first night. Mateo had only been in his sixties and was no match for the energy it took to recover from the poison.

Several nights after my recovery, I emerged from my rooms to find Karl waiting, tablet in hand. The human’s smile was strained, and I knew he had unpleasant news to share.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Hello, Karl. How are you?”

“Well, thank you,” he replied. “I need to talk to you, sir. Tonight has to be my last for a while, I’m afraid. The rest of the staff is on lockdown, and I’ll be going home until things improve. Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?”

“Oh, yes. I understand,” I said. I paused, considering. “You know, you could stay here if you wanted. Not to work, of course, but if you needed a secure place. There’s plenty of room…” I trailed off awkwardly.

Karl raised his eyebrows at my words. He looked down at the tablet, avoiding my gaze. “That’s very kind of you, sir. My family and I would probably be more comfortable at home.”

“Of course,” I said, feeling more like a fool than ever. Why had I not known Karl had a family? Because I’d never asked. That’s why. I’d never bothered to learn the first thing about the man who’d worked for me for the past decade, the man who had served me with loyalty and dedication. I felt an overwhelming sense of shame.

I reached out and gripped Karl’s shoulder. His muscles tensed. I realized this was the first time I’d deliberately touched the man, and given our recent history, I couldn’t blame him for being skittish. “If you need or want anything, just ask,” I said.

“The money you deposited into my account is more than sufficient, sir. A man, or even a family, could survive for quite a while on that amount. We are grateful. Thank you,” he said, meeting my gaze once more.