Waiting For Autumn

Chapter: 13

July 17, 2000
Autumn is 1 year old

The sickness was everywhere; blood was on the floor, coughing and moaning were the only sounds to be heard, and dead bodies were being carried out just as new sick ones were being carried in.  Jane and Jacob both had hazmat suits on, careful not to be infected like the rest of them.  African people as well as the American nurses and safari hunters lay on little cots, groaning and writhing in pain.  Gnats were buzzing all around the room, the patients, the floor.  The annoying buzzing sound of their wings was against the ears of all.  The air of the room was densely thick with illness, and the putrid stench of rotting flesh and sickness filled the noses of all of the bodies that were still breathing.  Jane had brought a sterile cart in behind her, full of needles, medicines, gauze, bandages, syringes, and washcloths.  Jacob had brought a bucket of cold water, along with many bottles full of water.  It was true what their servant had said, the nurses had fallen sick as well. It was a gruesome sight to behold, the awful illness staining perfect lives. Some, of which, will not recover from it.  There were soldiers standing by the entrance, with face masks on, and guns in their hands.      Jane tried to make it fast, for she feared if she stayed any longer, she too would fall ill.  As she tended to the patients, there wasn't much more to do then attempt to relieve them of the torturous pain they felt.  And as she did so, she knew that it all was a waste of medicine, that these people would not last another two days.  The medicine was not working.  Not fast enough, at least.  People were dropping like flies, and even the ones that took extra precautions could not save themselves.  She looked over at her husband, beads of sweat rolling down his face, anticipation filling his eyes before he touched one of the people with a cold washcloth.  A nurse that was taken by the sickness was laying in the corner and delirious with fever; screaming:
"Please, don't go.  Don't let me die! Don't let me die.  Help me!  Help me."
Jane glanced over in fear at the writhing woman, clawing at the air.  She shuffled over towards her, and jumped when she noticed her eyes were already open, a milky white film over her eyes.  She was blind. 
"Jacob."
Jane called.
"Pass me a washcloth."
He did as his wife instructed, and threw a cold, wet cloth towards her.  She caught it, and placed it on the restless nurse.  The woman began to calm down, still appearing to be staring at the ceiling.  Jane then took a syringe full of medicine and injected it into her arm, and walked to her past patient.  Another dreadful hour passed by, until Jane and Jacob were finally released, and they walked as quickly as they could out of the sickness-ridden room.  The metal carts were taken from them, and at a sterile place they were able to step out of their hazmat suits and take a shower.  After a shower, they were given a medicine that hopefully prevents the disease, and were allowed to go home.  Jacob noticed his wife's stiff posture as they were walking back to their hut, and a blank fearful stare on her face, teeth clenched, expression unchanging.  The least he could do at the time was gently caress her hand, and wait until they were safe in their own hut.  For there were eyes everywhere.  As soon as they arrived, Jane slowly closed the door and locked it. 

"Jacob, we have to get out of here."
She hastily whispers. 

"What?"
He says, surprised.

"I didn't mumble, we have to get out of here.  It isn't safe anymore."
She stares at him, but he doesn't reply.

"I know we came down here to help people, but even the doctors are getting sick.  Everyone around here is."

Jacob takes off his glasses, and continues to listen to his wife.

"I know, Jane."
He looks out of the window before closing the curtains.
"I've been thinking the same thing."
He says, and even though his voice faltered, his face stayed calm.