We're not sure how this all started, our whole world under this plague, but we know who brought it on vacation with us. My wife's mother is a retired school teacher who still finds the time to return to the classroom now and again. Kids, as they say, are germ factories. One assumes a teacher builds up a sort of tolerance, an immunity to such perils, but, with time, her immunity seems to have failed her.

 

We had been planning this trip for months. My father in law booked the flight long before our desire to escape the cold had set in. In the meantime, my wife and I had traveled to Chicago, enjoying our time as two, for we were trying to make our family three and we knew such adventures were fleeting. It wasn't long after our return that we found out we were successful. A child incubating in my wife's body. The baby, and the fear, were real; we were determined to enjoy our "last" vacation to Florida that much more.

 

Mere days before we were scheduled to embark on our journey, my father in law sent the news of his wife's sickness. "She will be fine. However, it seems I have caught what she has and I feel worse than she ever did". This vacation, already somewhat of a delicate balance between husband, wife, and in-laws did not need the added difficulty of plague.

 

On our way to the airport, the coughing was constant, sharp, penetrating. You'd have a moment of introspection, a moment to yourself, finally, to plan this week's schedule and COUGH! It rang out as if solely to shake you of your solace. COUGH! Piercing, cutting deeper the more you focused on it. Suddenly this truck wasn't big enough for the 5 of us.

 

No more than 10 minutes onto the plane, it became clear that the entire world was sick. COUGH! The two members of our group had their coughs eclipsed and drowned out by the coughs of the plane. The germs hung overhead, mockingly biding their time, knowing to strike when least expected. I wondered, inwardly, if the flight attendant had any flu masks. I didn't have a chance to ask, we had landed in paradise.

 

My wife and I, determined as we were to make the most of this, our "last" vacation, left her sister amongst the sick. We golfed, only of the miniature variety, we ate, we stayed as far from the condo

as we could. We were there to sleep and there to wake, the rest of our time was spent trying to enjoy what time we had together.

 

The sniffles started, in earnest, not long after the first day. "I'm fine", I heard her say, "It's just the sniffles", but we knew. We all knew. Sooner than expected, my sister in law was infected. Oh, god,

the cough. It rang out like a rimshot on a well tightened snare drum, it cut through the night like a

thunder clap. COUGH!

 

My wife, being in her present condition, had no chance, but I reassured her as best I could without touching her or being anywhere near her. I knew it would come for her. "It is absolute hell when you're infected", my father in law said, "But what's worse is passing it on to my daughters". You could hear the words catch in his throat. He had done this to them, and I, easily the first to be thrown overboard if the 5 of us were in a capsizing boat (I may even be the first overboard in a group on 15), was fit as a fiddle. I could feel the disdain. It had always been palpable between us, but now my health, my notoriously weak immune system, was flaunting itself in front of them all. Taunting them with my every unobstructed nasal breath, laughing at them every time one of them blew their nose.

 

I was only concerned with my well being at this point. My wife, god bless her, had turned. She was gone. My unborn child probably wincing with every coughing hack, his (or her) toes curling with

every sniffle and snort. I had lost them both quicker than I ever could have dreamed. So, I turned inward. I tried to keep my distance from all of them. There were two beds in our room and I suggested I sleep in the one we hadn't been sharing. A futile attempt at health, no doubt, but my options were limited. I moved myself to the other bed, while her eyes burned holes in my every move. Remarkably, I quickly fell asleep. I think as the day wore on, I'd become accustomed to the noises. COUGH! SNIFFFFF! They did nothing to faze me now. I slept.

 

I awoke to my wife above me, breathing the life out of me. I recoiled, "What are you doing?!", I whispered. She smiled as I brought my hand to my face and felt my nose, running like a faucet. "No! Why have you done this to me?! I love you!" She smiled again and said, "I love you too and now we can fight this together!" I cried. My eyes watering only slightly more than my nose. My throat, dry and scratchy like the driest desert landscape. I coughed. I coughed an ungodly, unholy, rimshot of a cough. I am sick.

 

I awoke. A dream! My wife lay on the other bed where I had left her. I was covered in sweat, but not in tears, not in snot. I have never been so happy. The next day, I was alone. Sure, the 5 of us were together, but I among the zombies, they among the healthy. Everywhere we went, old people passed us by. Elderly people who hadn't walked past another human on a sidewalk in 15 years, passing by us with the greatest of ease. One man in particular, he looked as if he was walking to his own funeral, briskly jaunted around us like a bunny out in the spring thaw. We shambled. I shambled. Perhaps I could fit in and the infection would pass me by! I coughed. Shallow, pathetic coughs of a healthy man, but I

coughed. I sniffed. I wanted so badly to trick the infection into thinking it already had me in it's grips.

 

As we made our way to the airport, the cab driver might as well have turned to me and said, "Take these sick people out of my cab! How dare you all call for my services in such a condition?" It seemed like he was blaming me. Like I should know better. He said nothing, actually, but his stare cut through me like a rusty chainsaw. I stared back, partly to reassure him this was not my fault. He didn't buy

it. I tried out my fake cough. He looked at me with pity.

 

We're on the plane now. Our party's coughs once again overwhelmed by the coughs of so many others. Am I all that is left? Must I restart this civilization back on the path to clear health? Am I the key to our species finally overcoming this plague? I tried to stifle such thoughts. I am just one man.

 

Our plane slammed into the water. The sweet release of death for all those congested. As our plane tore apart, you could almost hear the relief. All the sniffles, all the coughing, silent now. We started to sink. I was not relieved of congestion, but of the noise. The zombie like noise that surrounded the sick. Everything around me started to fade to black. I smiled.

 

Once again, I was awoken, this time by the thud of our wheels on the runway. I looked at my wife, she too was sleeping. All of a sudden, I became very aware of my throbbing headache, very aware of a scratchy throat. A sniff. I try and clear my throat.

 

It begins.