DEATH FEVER SERIES
Well, finally, I am starting on my next series – Death Fever. It will be a post-apologetic story based on a superbug.
Yeah, yeah. It’s been done before. Remember The Stand? One of my favorite stories, by the way. Even with the same troupe’s, its the storyline itself and the characters that make it unique. I hope I can accomplish that goal. I’ve been struggling with the opening paragraph and whether to make it first POV or 3rd.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Do you want to read more?
CHAPTER ONE
Kneeling by the side of the bed, Cal pulled back the kola bear blanket, revealing Tammy’s waxen, gray face. Even with the window open to the fidget February air, her face and body was beginning to bloat.
He tenderly stroked her cold cheek and wrapped a strand of her long auburn hair around his finger. A sob caught in his throat. Cal couldn’t believe his lover his life-partner was dead.
They always joked that if some type of catastrophe every struck, they would survive together, as a team. They even made plans where to meet if they were separated at the time of the event.
He snorted in derision. They hadn’t counted on a superbug laughing in their faces. Or, Cal being one of the unlucky survivors. If Tammy were there with him, he wouldn’t have minded. Now, he had to face the uncertain future alone and heartbroken.
Cal didn’t know how he ended up in the bedroom. But, after waking in sweat-soaked sheets, he’d flopped out of tbed and crawled into the living room, too weak to walk. Looking for Tamny. He had been so frightened. Afraid for his partner.
When he found her laying on the sofa, he fervently prayed that she was only sleeping. But his prayers weren’t answered. She was gone, a peaceful smile on her lovely face.
The last thing he remembered was watching TV with Tammy. Huddled together, hands clutched in fear, they watched the hourly news reports as the brightly colored graphs updated the rapid spread of the unknown virus across the globe.
None of the scientist knew how the superbug started, but they all agreed it sprung-up somewhere in Central America. From there, it was only a hop-skip-and-jump to the states. The federal government declared a National State of Emergency, but it was too late.
Within hours after contact, the host fell into a deep, comatose state. Either you woke up, or you didn’t. The virus was so contagious and nasty that the mortality rate was almost 95%. Since the virus caused high fevers, a reporter bandied around the name Death Fever, and it stuck.
The uncertain and angry meowing from the cat crate on the floor next to him brought Cal out of his trance. With a heavy sigh, he gently placed the cover back over Tammy’s face. Standing, he picked up the crate and stared at the two, white female cats inside. “Come on, Muffitt and Stuffitt, time to go.”
Since they were declawed, Cal didn’t feel right about letting them go wild. They wouldn’t have survived long on their own, anyway. Besides, he knew Tammy would’ve been pissed at him if he left them behind.
Picking up his suitcase in the other hand, he walked out the front door. The soft click of the screen door closing behind him belied the importance of the moment. His whole world had changed.
Standing on the porch, shivering in the crisp February air, Cal noticed how eerily quiet it was. No cars moved up or down the street. No dogs barking. Not even the pack of feral cats they feed were around.
Hunching deeper into his jacket, Cal proceeded down the snow-covered steps toward the side yard. His neighbor’s brand-new Ford Expedition sat, idling, warming up. Even with the rear seats folded down, the back was loaded to the gill.
Where Cal was headed, he needed four-wheel drive. His old red Ford station wagon would not be able to handle the terrain. So, he decided to take his neighbor’s vehicle.
After knocking several times on the door with no answer, he broke into the house. He found the old man and his wife dead, sitting in their chairs in the living room. Their dog laying lifeless on the floor between them.
Opening the passenger door, he set the suitcase on the seat and slid the cat crate on top. Making sure the opening faced the front window, so his girls had something to keep them distracted.
As Cal strode through the snow drifts to the driver’s side, he avoided looking at the windows of the neighboring houses. After finding the old man dead, Cal went from door-to-door, looking for survivors. There were none. Now, he felt like the blank windows were accusing him. Why did he survive when their owners did not?
With one last look at the house he shared with Tammy for the past eighteen years, he shifted the vehicle into drive and headed south.
