Page 51 of A Wilderness Within

Caroline wiped her eyes, but her voice never faltered.

“This is what we’re fighting for. The nobility inside all of us, the purity of our purpose, which is to save each other. I’m Caroline Kelly, and I’ll be speaking tomorrow on the next channel up. Caroline out.”

She clicked the radio off, and it was Lincoln who noticed the small book of poetry she held. Her father’s.

Lincoln slipped back into his sleeping bag, not wanting Caroline to know he’d woken and worried about her. Then he waited until he heard her light steps on the tile floor as she padded over to him. She climbed back in the sleeping bag and cuddled against him again. The words of Kipling’s poem ran through his head as he drifted back to sleep.

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the will which says to them: “Hold on!”

15

Excerpt from the private journal of Dr. Erica Kennedy, interim director of the CDC:

November 11 – We have sent an agent into the field to investigate rumors of a virulent new disease. The agent has failed to report. I am now on site in China to follow up on the situation. These are my findings:

The virus started in a wet market. Bats were caged too close to civet cats. An apartment owner fell ill while tending to the animals he was selling. The virus jumped from the civets to the human, and the virus entered his skin presumably through a minor cut. This man fell ill seven days later and was taken to a nearby hospital.

While waiting for treatment, he collapsed on the floor. He suffered internal bleeding, liquification of his liver, and his intestines shed their lining, producing a bomb of lethal infectious bacteria. He was rushed into an emergency room, where he vomited blood and bile. After this, he slipped in and out of consciousness as his body began to expel all moisture. Over the course of a week, he became fully dehydrated, a process that continued even after his death on day nine, ending up as what the staff translated to me as a mummy. His remains were sealed in a plastic waterproof bag and stored in a hospital freezer rather than the morgue.

I examined the remains in a sterile setting, taking full precautions. But I admit, I felt terrified, and it was not just the usual bout of nerves when entering a hot zone. This was true terror. I saw what this virus did to him, what he looked like…

I took blood and tissue samples from the victim and examined them with the equipment they could provide. The structure of the virus formed a strand like a piece of string with a knot at the end. If I had to guess, it may be part of the familyFiloviridae, or filoviruses that form infectious viral particles. They encode their genome in the form of single-stranded negative-sense RNA, most commonly associated with diseases like Ebola or the Marburg virus.

This virus starts out with a similar form of viral hemorrhagic fevers before it dehydrates the body faster than the body can be replenished until the host dies. What’s most unusual is that this process somehow continues past death, but this is not caused by the virus itself, but rather the conditions created in the cell left behind. I am unable to determine how long the virus stays alive once the host is dead, but that is a crucial question. Will the bodies carry the disease, like other viruses, or do the host remains seal the fate of the microbes inside it?

Caroline watched the sunlight illuminate faint freckles on the bridge of Lincoln’s nose as he lay sleeping beside her.

Sunlight. The brightness of the glorious sun filled the room, warming everything, including the sleeping bags she and Lincoln were cocooned in. Caroline held her breath, counting the freckles, so faint, but visible there in the light of the sun. It made her think of Tyler, her first crush. She’d been in middle school, and he had been the playful redhead with cinnamon-hazel eyes and a wicked smile. He’d had freckles like these, though more of them than Lincoln. Seeing them now on Lincoln made her smile, and that love she felt swelled inside her, like a building tidal wave, strong and unstoppable.

I love you, Lincoln Atwood, and I’ll never stop. Even when my last breath is gone. You’re mine and I’m yours.She exhaled slowly as time seemed to freeze, and he slowly opened his eyes.

“Morning,” he said. His sleep-roughened voice filled her with a feminine awareness that made her blush.

“Morning,” she replied, content to watch motes of dust catching the beams of light streaming through the windows.

“The sun’s out,” he murmured, childlike wonder striking him the way it had her a moment before.

She lifted a hand to touch his lips, and he kissed her fingertips. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Best thing I’ve seen in months, aside from you.” He rolled her beneath him in their large sleeping bag, and she laughed softly.

He settled into the cradle of her thighs. Their mouths met in slow, sweet kisses that turned hot and intense. She let his tongue explore her mouth, and she reached between them, pulling her panties down a little. He chuckled and gave one hard yank, ripping them off. Then he shoved his pajamas down and retrieved a condom from his bag close beside them. It was a little difficult to get in a comfortable position in the tight confines of the bag, which made her laugh. It took him a few times to get it right. When he buried his shaft inside her, she arched her back at the sensation of being filled by him. There was no point where she could feel an end to her and a beginning to him.

She moaned against his conquering lips as they moved together, making love. Each time he sank inside her, that burning core of love within her seemed to burn even brighter, like the birth of a new star that would burn for millions of years, maybe longer. The pleasure between them built until they came together, shivering and shuddering as ecstasy rippled through them like rocks dropped into a still pond.

“I love you,” she whispered as the sunlight turned his dark lashes a softer burnished gold.

He stole a sweet kiss that melted every bone in her body into a delicious puddle beneath him. “I love you too.”

Ellie gave a little wakening cry from her travel crib. Caroline and Lincoln shared one more kiss.

“I’ll be right back,” Lincoln murmured, he headed to the restroom to dispose of the condom.

Caroline climbed out of the sleeping bag and found a spare pair of underwear before she went to retrieve Ellie. She bounced the baby in her arms, murmuring a gentle lullaby her mother used to sing to her and the baby gazed up at her with wide eyes. Ellie stretched her tiny hands up, touching Caroline’s cheek. Caroline gently caught one of the baby’s hands and pressed a kiss to the little palm. The baby cooed, gasped and squirmed in response. When she looked up she saw Lincoln had returned from the restroom and stood there in nothing but pajama pants, watching her with a stark longing in his eyes. She understood that look all too well and it made her heart quiver like notes upon a harp.

“My turn to feed the little tyke.” He gently took Ellie from Caroline and carried her around, whispering softly to her while he prepared a bottle for her. Kirby watched them, his tail wagging, sending small clouds of dust up from the floor.

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