Vial #127

Chapter 40: Altering our Path

I rush in to the back, following Sadie at top speed. Laying there, every now and then twitching or convulsing, is Will. His entire body is coated in a layer of sweat, soaking through his clothes. His gaze is distant, as if he's seeing something that's not really there.

"Will," I rush over, pulling a mask over my head. His face turns wildly, trying to find the source of my voice. His gaze is wide in fear, shuddering around the whites of his eyes. They're bloodshot, matching the colour of the liquid running from his nose. I can see his chest rising and falling at an abnormal rate. "This is it, this is his end," I think. Sadie is right.

Once I head back outside, I hand everyone a mask, "It's time to say goodbye." There's uproar from everyone. We can't just give up. I know that, but we have nothing; no medical supplies, nothing.

We file into the crowded place, the air feels moist from Will's sweat. "Isn't there anything we can do?" Jamie looks up to me, I can see that he's fighting to keep calm; a desperate need to fix this remains.

I shake my head, "if there was something, I would've done it." He looks to Dad, whose eyes are focused on Will.

With no one on his side, he runs out in a rage. Normally I would've followed him but today I can't. I can't just leave Will in his final moments. Plus, Jeb is out there, if anything goes wrong.

Sadie and Jackson take both of his hands. Sadie bites her lip and Jackson is just looking ahead in a hard glare. These two have been with him since the beginning. It'll be hardest for them to let go. I take a seat down by his head, smiling and trying to make it more peaceful.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here, right here," Sadie grips her hand tighter around Will's.

"Sadie, is that you?" She nods.

"It's okay, I'm right here, just relax." Wet, hot tears roll off of her face and onto his arm. Letting go is never easy.

"I know, I'll try to hold on," Will's voice is a gurgle and he coughs up a bundle of blood, squinting his eyes in fatigue.

"You can let go, it's okay," Sadie just keeps gripping his hands, making sure that she's here for it, when he closes his eyes for the last time.

He shuts his eyes but his chest continues to rise and fall, and then it stops. Sadie leans over, shaking Will repeatedly, screaming, just wailing.

Jeb rushes in at the sound of the noise, shoving her out of the way. He leans over Will's

side, placing both hands on his chest and presses down. With each compression, his chest goes in farther than the last. I can hear a faint popping and cracking of the ligaments snapping and bones fracturing.

"Emma, you need to get in the front, do a u- turn and drive about two miles back. There's a turnoff to a cabin. I might have something that can help," Jeb orders and I rush to the front, desperate at the last ray of hope.

"Jeb, why are you doing this?" I wonder. He's now the most at risk for the infection and yet he's only saving a strangers life.

I keep my foot pressed against the gas, fully down, the roar of the engine thundering through the countryside. "Which turn off?" I shout, knowing that about two miles has passed.

Jeb takes a look about, momentarily stopping CPR, "take the next one," then he goes back to work.

I take the turn, entering a forest road. After many corners, we reach a small, log cabin. It's only about the size of the living room of my old house.

I get out, swinging open the back doors. With everyone's help, we pick up Will and place him in the middle of the cabin. Jeb issues out most of us, insisting that he needs space to work, leaving just me, him and my Dad.

"I'm taking his pulse." We all go silent in anticipation. Nothing happens and Jeb goes back to compressions. We go in this cycle over and over, breathing and pressing. Will has been clinically dead for about ten minutes when Jeb bends down, placing two fingers against Will's neck to take a pulse. "There's a faint one, very slow, too slow. Stay with him," Jeb orders and gets up, rushing across the one-roomed cabin to a wooden cabinet at the back.

When he comes back, he has an IV, placing it in Will's arm, while adding a tiny amount of a chemical, "What is that?" I ask, I still don't entirely trust him. How could a mechanic know so much about medicine?

"It makes the heart beat faster," he watches intently for an improvement in his status.

"How do you know that?" I ask, needing to know every move about this man.

"My girlfriend was a nurse," he looks down, and I get the message that whoever she was, she's gone.

I place my hand on Will's wrist and I feel the heart rate quicken and straighten. "This looks like a virus, not bacterial. We'll just need to wait it out," Jeb informs us and my Dad leaves to update the others.

"How long will he be here?" I question, wanting to make plans.

"I honestly don't know. Probably less than a week," I eye him suspiciously. I don't want to stay here much longer, not with this stranger and not with some killer running through the forest.

Part of me wants to leave, go outside and be around the others but my better half remains here, telling myself that I can't just leave Will. I sit by his side and stare at him, waiting for a response.

"I uh, think he'll wake up when, there's um, enough oxygen back in his system," I hear Jeb take a guess at the situation behind me, but his tone makes it obvious that he is clueless from this point on.

"Emma, can we come in now," Sadie calls through the door and I look to Jeb for an answer. After he nods, I invite her in and she rushes over, collapsing in relief. She reaches for his hand but his meets hers halfway. I see his eyes fluttering. He's opening his mouth to speak but the muscles don't conform. At least he's alive, breathing, his heart still beating.

"So, what's your plan, after this?" I ask Jeb, needing to gather information about his motives and who he is as a human being. Was he trustworthy or not?

"I was thinking about heading to the WHO," I am puzzled, no idea what or where he's talking about.

"You know about the World Health Organization? My girlfriend was going to leave, but the night before the infected got her." He looks down, remembering the lost friend. "They made a research lab in Toronto, in the University Health Network. They're working on a cure."