Side Effects: Book Two: Visions of Despair Read online

  “Thank you for your kindness," she said, turning back to Micah. She set all of the clothes except the shirt on the bed, and expertly began to dress him. The bruising on his legs still made her shudder, but she worked past it as she put fresh socks on his feet.

  Satisfied that he looked comfortable, she pulled the blanket back over him. Finished, she stepped aside as Mitch grabbed the blanket he had brought in and laid it over his son. For the first time, she noticed that he had brought an old, sad-looking stuffed dog into the room with him. She watched as Mitch gently lifted his son’s arm and tucked the old dog into the crook of his elbow. Brushing his hair back from his face he leaned over and placed a tender kiss on the boy’s forehead.

  She suddenly felt uncomfortable, like a voyeur watching a moment that should only belong to the two of them. She didn’t want to leave yet, though; she was hoping to ask him a few questions. Turning around, she lingered. She looked over the large topographical map of Washington state that was hanging above the old sofa. The detail was amazing. She had never seen another map quite like it. Glancing at the bottom right corner, she saw the initials M.A. and that it was dated 1997. Mitch Adler. He must have made this.

  “That one was my first. It’s a passion of mine. Map making," she heard from behind her, the deep timbre of his voice creating a ripple of goosebumps across her flesh.

  “It’s amazing. You’re quite gifted," she said, taking a seat on the sofa.

  “Thanks," he said, a shy smile gracing his lips. When her gaze landed there, she felt her cheeks flush and hoped he didn’t notice.

  “It’s all in the details," he replied, his smile transforming into something more playful.

  Damn it. He did see her blush. Everything about this man made her feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was time to turn the tables.

  “So, tell me, Mitch, how exactly did you stop the virus? I saw your son when you brought him in. He was dead, I could see it. The wound on his arm was fatal...so how did you save him?” she asked, her heart racing with anticipation as she held her breath, waiting for the answer.

  Mitch just sat quietly staring at her, pondering her question. Each moment felt drawn out, suspenseful. Her mind could come up with nothing. She had no idea what the answer would be, or if he would even give one.

  “What are your plans, Juliette?” he questioned, throwing her off guard.

  “Why do you ask? Does that determine whether you answer my question or not?” she shot back.

  “Yeah, it really does," he stated simply.

  “I guess my only real plan at this point is to survive," she answered truthfully.

  “Does that mean staying here?” he asked.

  “If you will allow me to, yes. I can’t imagine trying to go anywhere. I don’t even know if anyone else is alive," she said, feeling the sadness seep back in. She was surprised the feeling had gone, even if only for a moment.

  “Of course, you’re welcome to stay. I just--what happened here tonight was really incredible, but it has to stay in this house. No one can speak a word of it outside these walls. It would put everyone here in way more danger than we’re already in. I just had to be sure that you were staying," he finished, running his hand through his hair again.

  “So, what happened? How did you do it?” she asked again, perched on the very edge of the sofa, anticipation humming through her.

  “It was the boy, Jimmy. Something in his blood carries an antidote. Have you spoken with him? I have never felt such a powerful presence off of anyone, and I have met a lot of powerful people," he finished, leaning back into the cushions.

  Juliette opened her mouth to speak just as Micah sat up and then collapsed back onto the bed. Mitch jumped from his spot on the sofa and rushed to his boy’s side. Juliette was quick to follow.

  “It’s okay, I’m here," Mitch told him as he picked up his hand.

  “Dad?” Micah whispered in a frightened voice. “Am I going to become one of them, am I going to turn?”

  “No son, that’s not going to happen. It must have been a branch that got your arm. You lost a lot of blood, though, so we had to do a transfusion. I think you’re going to be just fine, but make sure to tell me if you’re feeling sick at all. Sometimes the blood can cause a reaction," Mitch told him in that calm, reassuring tone.

  Juliette couldn’t help but notice that Mitch was leaving out a few of the more important details. She didn’t like it. Why would he lie to his son? She gave him a hard stare--silently prompting him to tell his son everything that had happened.

  “Juliette’s a nurse, and she’s offered to help care for you until you get feeling better. There are a lot of people here that care about you, Micah, and we are going to do whatever you need to get better," Mitch told him, clearly missing--or ignoring--the cue that she was sending him. She didn’t like lies, and an omission of truth was the same as a lie.

  She wouldn’t say anything in front of his son, but this guy was going to hear what she thought about this.

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me, Dad. I can take care of myself," Micah told him, struggling to keep his eyes open.

  “Micah, you need your rest. Don’t fight the sleep," she instructed him, hoping he would accept the nudge and stop struggling to stay awake. She watched, satisfied, as his eyes drifted shut and he began to breathe evenly.

  She glanced up at Mitch just in time to catch him smiling at her. “What?” she asked, irritated by the look on his face.

  “I’m just glad that you’re here," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

  Juliette let out a frustrated breath, turned, and left the room. She wanted to remember that she was mad at him, and she wanted to be able to make him see why. If she stayed in here with him now, she would surely forget.

  Chapter Six

  Mitch

  What the hell was that all about? Mitch wondered, as he sat back down on the sofa. Juliette had looked almost angry as she stormed out of the room. Mitch quietly shook his head. Women were crazy. He had been thinking about this particular one non-stop for the past week, which was ridiculous, he had too much to think about already.

  He released a frustrated breath when his gaze landed back on his son. He didn’t know what to do about Micah. He was used to always having an answer for everything, but with this he had no clue. He knew it was natural for Micah to be feeling the way that he was; he and Joe had been close for the better part of their lives. Joe had stayed over nearly every weekend since they were six and in the cub scouts together.

  Maybe it was time to give Micah the letter. They had stopped by Joe’s house on the way out of town and Mitch had put the letter for his mom inside the screen door on their front porch. No one was home; Mitch had been grateful of that when it happened. Now it was another pointless thought taking root in his mind. He would never know what had come of it. Did someone find it? Had they all died already and so no one was missing the boy? It weighed heavily on his soul and he suspected that it always would.

  There was a soft rapping on the door, drawing him back to the present. “Come in," he said quietly. He watched as Kate and Emily walked in. Sliding over, he made enough room for both of them on the sofa. “Have a seat ladies," he winked and patted the spot beside him.

  “So, how is he, Dad? Has anything changed?” Emily asked, looking drawn and tired. His beautiful girl. Always the anchor in the storm.

  He placed his hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. “He woke up, twice. Just for a few minutes, but he seemed to be doing okay. It would probably be just fine for you to go and get some rest. I know you’ve been through a lot in the past few days. Time to give your body the rest it needs."

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind sitting here with you for a while," she said, stifling a yawn.

  “You go, Emmy girl, I’ll stay with your dad," Kate said, giving Emily a kiss on the side of her head.

  “Okay, okay, I’m going," she said, standing up. When she reached the door, she turned back to them. “Oh, and just so yo
u know, Daddy, I’ll be sleeping in Drew’s room now. Good night," she finished, blowing him a kiss before slipping quickly out into the hall.

  Mitch just shook his head. The way she was acting was funny. He would never object to a relationship between Emily and Drew. He loved that kid. As much as he loved his own. He had hoped for a love connection between the two of them for years. He knew that if they found love together it would be the forever kind. There was no way that boy would ever do anything to hurt his girl and vice versa. He let out a contented sigh and turned to look at Kate.

  She was silently laughing and shaking her head. “You are--you are... so easy to see through, Mitchel. I know every word of the conversation you just had in your head," she finished, laughing between the words. “I agree completely," she added, taking a deep breath to control her laughter.

  “What’s going to happen to us all?” he asked her, turning the mood of the room somber. He knew it was an unfair question and one she wouldn’t have the answer to, but he also knew that whatever she said would have a calming effect, and he would be able to continue on for another day.

  “My dear boy, the same thing that was always going to happen. We will wake up each day and do what is needed to make this world a better place, and we will go to bed each night content that our purpose was unwavering. We will be the good in the world until we reach our end, and when we do, we will have lived a life of purpose. We will fight for the good, my boy," she finished, clasping her hands in her lap now that her speech was over, they were always moving while she was talking; telling a story of their own.

  Mitch let her words wash over him, finding the comfort he had been searching for. He reached over and clasped her hand between his own. “Thank you, Kate," he said simply, knowing that it was enough.

  “Why don’t you go and get me a pillow and blanket. I’ll sleep in here with our boy," she told him, squeezing his hand.

  “I don’t know, Kate. I hate to think of you being uncomfortable. I can stay,"

  “Don’t be silly, Mitchel. This couch is worn and soft in all the right places. It’s old and comfortable, just like me. You could say we were kindred spirits, this couch and I," she finished, raising her eyebrows with a smile in her voice.

  Mitch gave a short laugh. “Soulful furniture? Is that a thing now?” he asked, standing to go retrieve the things that she had asked for.

  “Are you questioning me, Mitchel?” she asked with a stern look. “Now scoot," she finished, swatting at the air in front of him.

  He left the room shaking his head. This house was full of crazy women. As if to confirm the thought, he looked up just as Anna, his daughter’s college roommate, walked out of her room. She glanced at him, taking a deep breath before launching into a conversation she had no doubt already had a dozen times in her own head.

  “Mr. Adler, I was hoping to speak with you, if you have a minute." Without waiting for his reply, she quickly began again, “I spoke with my mother, and I’m going to have to go to Washington D.C. They are holding my dad somewhere at the Pentagon. They believe he has something to do with this whole mess. I have to fix this. I’m going to need your help--I’ve been lucky so far, but I’m no fool. I need some defense training if I’m going to have a chance," she finished, looking up at him with her brows furrowed. He was certain that he had never seen her without those wrinkles between her eyebrows.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked, clearly anxious for his answer.

  “I think you have safety here. Leaving this place to try and travel all the way to the other side of the country alone is suicide, but I understand the pull of family. I won’t stand in your way if this is really what you want to do, but you're crazy if you think you’re leaving this mountain before April at the earliest. So, you may as well relax before these wrinkles become permanent," he said with a chuckle, reaching out and running a finger down between her eyes.

  She gasped and took a huge step back from him, bumping into the wall behind her. She quickly stepped forward to save herself from falling. Once she was steady, her hands came to rest on her hips, and her eyes held a hard glint of anger.

  Mitch gave up the struggle and let out the laughter he’d been fighting to contain. Anna’s eyes snapped to his and he quieted instantly.

  “This may seem humorous to you, Mr. Adler, but this is my family, and they need me. I think I might have some answers for the people who are holding him. If I can just get them to listen."

  The girl was right, and now he just felt like an ass. “Okay, Anna, we’ll start your training tomorrow, then. I’ll show you my equipment room and you can start your strength training right away. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Kate sent me for something and I’d be a fool to keep her waiting," he finished with a nod, heading toward Kate’s room at the end of the hallway.

  Flipping on the light, he took in the room before him. Every inch of the space was a carefully laid out plan. Kate had everything that meant something to her in here, but it didn’t appear overly crowded. It just felt like home.

  On the walls, hung dozens of small framed pictures. Kate had a knack for catching those moments that captured her loved ones with pure joy on their faces, but she could capture the sorrow just as well. It was hard to say which were more breathtaking. There were only a few of the photos that felt full of sadness displayed in her room. Walking to the night stand, Mitch picked up the one that had always pulled him in.

  It was a black and white picture taken the day of his wife’s funeral. The frame that held it was similar to all of the others; a thin brass with tiny, ornately antiqued flowers. In the photo, Emily and Drew sat on the top step of their back porch. Emily’s look was one of pure sorrow, a single tear streaming down her face. Drew sat beside her with one arm around her shoulders, reaching across with his other hand. He would forever be suspended in time at the exact moment when the tear connected with his out stretched finger. There was a look of wonder on the boy’s face, and Mitch would bet that what Kate had caught in the photograph was the very moment when Drew had fallen hopelessly in love with his daughter.

  Twelve years was a long time to hold that kind of love in. Maybe he’d better stop by Drew’s room as soon as he got Kate settled. The last thing they needed in this mess was a pregnancy. The thought alone caused his stomach to flip. It might be time for the talk. He shook his head, trying to tell himself that they were both smarter than that.

  He grabbed a pillow off the bed. Turning toward the closet, his eyes landed on a small stool with little wooden legs that sat in the corner. Stacked on top of the velvety cushion were several crocheted afghans. He took one from the top of the pile and decided to also grab the fleece cover-up that was folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Satisfied that Kate would be comfortable for the night, he turned off the light and made his way back to the infirmary.

  When he reached the room, he gave a light tap before going in. Kate was standing beside Micah, gently brushing his hair back with her hand. Mitch could see that his son was awake and speaking softly to the woman who was the only grandmother he had ever known.

  “Nana Kate, I don’t want you sleeping in here. What if--what if something happens to me and I hurt you?" Micah said, a very real fear lacing through his words.

  Mitch stepped up. “That’s not going to happen, Micah. If it was going to, it would have already," he assured him, reaching out to grab his hand.

  “Maybe you don’t know everything about everything, Dad! I don’t always need you telling me how to feel," the boy said, sounding tired and worn, but with an edge to his voice.

  Kate raised an eyebrow in Mitch’s direction and gave a little nod toward the couch. She was right. It was clear that he was just making things worse with Micah and needed to back away.

  He busied himself laying the blankets out across the sofa, all the while holding his breath. Mitch felt his son’s anger like a palpable thing, the weight of it heavy and smothering. He needed to allow Micah to release it, to step away from its hold before it took t
he air from them all.

  He turned the covers up on the edge of the sofa and sat down. A few moments later, Kate came over and joined him.

  Mitch sat quietly, waiting for her to speak. As the moments stretched on, he began to wonder if she would.

  “Mitchel, just keep loving him. That’s all you can do. He’ll come around. He has to let all that anger go, but I think it’s going to take some time. Now, you get to bed. Don’t worry about Micah, I’ll be here for him."

  “I’ll see you in the morning, then," Mitch said, standing to leave.

  As he closed the door, he let out a big sigh. He hoped he wasn’t putting Kate in danger leaving her in there. The way Micah’s arm had looked when they first got back to the house, there was no doubt in Mitch’s mind that he had been infected by this crazy virus. He could completely understand Micah’s concern. If he hadn’t seen the dramatic improvement for himself, Mitch would never chance leaving anyone in there alone with him.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed away all of the doubts he felt building within himself. Micah would be fine. It had been hours since they came back to the house, and if he was going to turn, it would have happened already.

  As his nerves settled, Mitch walked with purposeful strides up the stairs to Drew’s bedroom. Time to check on the love birds, he thought with a chuckle. When he reached the door, he rapped softly. Hearing nothing from within, he quietly pushed it open and walked inside.

  The bedside lamp was still on, washing the room in a soft glow. He glanced at the bed, his breath catching at the scene before him. Drew was lying on his side, the bandage on his ear covering most of one side of his face. Emily lay beside him, her hand resting tenderly on the other side. Drew’s breaths were settled in an easy rhythm, letting Mitch know that he was fast asleep, but Emily was breathing so fitfully that he could tell she was still awake and obviously very distressed. He watched as a silent stream of tears rolled down her beautiful face.

  “Em,” he said quietly, making her jump.