“I’m sorry Mrs Koalt,” the Doctor looked genuinely upset to be the bearer of bad news, “There’s nothing more we can do, we’re going to have to pass him over.” Dr Bennet glanced at the men standing outside the room.
“Where will they take him?” Felicity was calm. She’d heard about the virus on the news, the odd case here and there, nothing to be concerned about. Until Eddie came back one morning explaining that he’d picked up a patient who had it. He’d kept his distance, talking to her through the French doors, refusing to come into the house. They’d had to burn the ambulance, he said, him and David were being taken straight to the hospital in specialist transport. Just as a precaution.
Now he was inside a giant bubble, hooked up to machines. David was god knows where.
“I don’t know”. Dr Bennet wasn’t sure where the men took them. They just turned up for the patients who still had full brain activity – regardless of the rest of the body shutting down.
Felicity watched the men as they entered the room and wheeled her husband’s bubble away. The Dr handed her a death certificate. This was what happened when virus patients got taken. They were officially dead.
Three weeks later.
“Breaking news. A fire has swept through a government run facility that was set up to investigate the new virus. There are believed to be no survivors…”
*Ding Dong Ding*
The doorbell. Felicity turned the news off and walked toward the front door. She could smell something burning.
Her 4-year-old son came running up the hallway excitedly. The burning smell was stronger now, acrid and charcoal-like. Toby stopped.
“I opened the door for daddy.”
She stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking.
“You did what?”
(c) Emily Dixon