Patient Zero

My four-thirty alarm jolted me awake on a Monday morning, my heart jumping for a moment before I shut it off. I looked at my still sleeping wife beside me, what was left of her patchy hair falling over her shoulders. She looked at peace, but I looked at her with pity and a building sense of hope. I got out of bed, making sure to be as quiet as possible. I opened the door and left the bedroom, closing the door softly. I ran a hand down my face as I approached the kitchen counter, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring myself a mug.

I always woke up early, a habit I got after years as a microbiologist. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the cluster of orange prescription bottles laying on the counter, all of them printed with my wife’s name. Reyna Michaels, Stage three brain cancer. The doctors said there was no point in chemotherapy, and it took me days to convince Reyna to take her medication. I know deep down she didn’t want to die, but slowly, the fatigue and vomiting each day, the confusion, it was wearing her down. I could tell she was starting to give up, some pill bottles completely full although they were prescribed weeks ago. “It’s not worth it.” she’d say.

After I finished my coffee, I went to my lab down the hall and began.

I slid on my pristine white apron, gloves, and safety glasses and began my work. As soon as the doctors said the cancer was stage three, I knew I had to find a cure for her. I loved my wife, she’d been my world and happiness for the six years we were married. I’d work all day and night if it means curing or stopping the growth of her tumor. Today was the day. After months of waiting and growing in petri dishes, it was done. This bacteria would completely eat the tumor in her brain, and eventually she’d get better. The hope I felt was indescribable. I carefully opened one of the dozen dishes I had and scraped some growth off the top with a small scoop. I stayed as quiet as possible. Sometimes Reyna would lean on the doorway to my lab, just staring. One day, I finally asked her. “What are you thinking about?”

She exhaled, not meeting my eyes. “I don’t understand why you try so hard. You can’t just make a cure for cancer.” That was a few days ago. Now, I was sure I’d found the cure, but I knew Reyna wouldn’t take it willingly. Sometimes she’d have hope, and other times it was like it didn’t even exist. It was five thirty now, and after putting all my bacterial growth into a tiny vial, I left the lab. For a few hours, I tidied the house, making sure Reyna wouldn’t have to do anything. She never had the energy to do so anyway. I went to the kitchen and got out the kettle, boiling some water for tea. When we’d first gotten the diagnosis, Reyna was hopeful, buying different herbal teas and remedies off the internet. I made her tea and slipped the growth into the tea, stirring it and carefully walking to the bedroom. I opened the door with my elbow, seeing Reyna sitting up, just staring into nothing. “Reyna.. You’re up. How are you feeling hon?” She blinked, propping herself against the head of the bed. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “Hey..You brought me tea..” A small smile spread across her face, almost genuine. “Yeah..” I sat by her feet, handing her the mug. She took it and took a long sip, her skinny fingers wrapping around it tightly. I could tell it took more strength than it should have to bring it to her lips. After she was done, I brought her plain toast, which was all she was able to stomach for a few weeks.

I gave her a warm smile and climbed into bed beside her putting an arm around her waist. “You’re going to get better soon, I promise.” My throat got tight on the last word. She finished her tea, shakily setting the mug on the nightstand.

For the next week, I gave her more of the growth, slipping it into her food or drink. It may sound crazy, but it’s for the best. By the end of the week, she looked like a human again, her skin had more color, her eyes no longer hollow, and she could walk down the hall without passing out. I could tell she felt it too. Now it was September first, our seventh year anniversary. We went out to a restaurant, something we hadn’t done since she was diagnosed. Reyna held a glass of wine in her hand, swishing it around as she looked into my eyes, a smile on her face. “I love you.” Just her saying that melted my heart completely. “I love you more Rey.” I couldn’t be happier. We couldn’t be happier. I can’t believe I cured her. I cured cancer. After dinner, we went home around ten, both a little tipsy. Reyna kicked off her heels and went to shower while I changed and got ready for bed. She took unusually long, and it was almost two hours until she came out. I was laying on the bed, scrolling and waiting for her to come out. “Hey..you okay? You kinda took a while..” I asked, getting up and walking towards her, my hands landing gently on her shoulders. She nodded, kissing me and getting in bed. We lay in bed and talked until she fell asleep, but the entire time, she was scratching her left forearm. “What’s wrong?” I asked, gently grasping her arm and pulling it closer to me. A bright pink rash had formed along it, tiny bumps peeking out from underneath her skin. “Maybe it’s a reaction to my body wash or something..” she murmured, yawning and closing her eyes. A small pang of worry hit my chest. She’ll be fine, right?

The next morning, my eyes caught on her sleeping form. The rash on her arm was worse, the red color deepening from the middle out. I grazed my fingers along it, and it was warmer than usual. I swallowed hard. Something was off. As I shuffled to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, I realized we had absolutely nothing to eat, just ingredients. I went back to the bedroom and changed my clothes, slipping on my shoes and grabbing my keys. Before I left, I wrote a note for Reyna and left it on the nightstand, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Going out for groceries, be back soon. Love you. I walked out, my keys jingling in my hands. The cool fall air hit me as soon as I opened the door, amber leaves rolling across the driveway. I started the car and pulled out, driving to the local grocery store. I finally got there, people scattered heavily around the store, pushing carts and filling them. I got one myself, the rusty wheels squeaking repeatedly as I pushed it through the aisles. It had only been about twenty minutes when my phone rang in my pocket. Reyna. I answered immediately. “Hello?”

I heard fast breathing through the phone and my heart stopped. “Joseph. Y’know that rash that’s on my arm? It’s really itchy now, unbearably. Can you get me something for it?” She asked. “Of course, I’ll be home soon, okay?” Her voice was strained and she sounded in pain. I immediately went to the medication section and grabbed a box of Cortizone and some aloe vera gel I spotted. After getting my groceries in record time, I drove home. There was no one in the world I cared for more than my wife, so I didn’t bother to get the rest of the grocery bags from the trunk. Carrying the two treatments I got, I opened the front door and walked into the kitchen. There was Reyna, crouched behind the counter, utensils and random objects scattered around her. She was sobbing and her arm was bleeding and dark red, angry lines from her fingernails running up and down her arm. “Reyna! What are you doing?!” I rushed over and took a small serrated knife from her hands, sliding it across the floor and cupping her face in my hands. Her face had a long streak of blood that ran from her jaw down to her neck, and she looked like she was going to burst out of her skin. “It itches! It won’t stop, please, Joseph make it stop!” Tears poured down her face as she buried it into my shoulder, her hands bloodied and shaking. “It’s okay..I got you..I got you.” I cradled her until she stopped crying, but she wouldn’t stop squirming. I pulled back and helped her stand and get in the shower. When she got undressed, it revealed more deep rashes, some in the small of her back, some on her neck and legs, it was everywhere. “We should go to the emergency room Reyna.” I suggested, letting the water run warm before helping her in. “No! I’m never setting foot in a hospital again, okay?!” The fear in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. After she finished showering, I put the Cortizone all over the rashes and bandaged her arm, bringing her to the bedroom. “Just..rest, okay? You’re going to be okay..” I murmured low, moving a strand of hair from her face as it relaxed with sleep. I stayed by her until I knew for sure she was asleep, then went to the kitchen to clean up. There were things everywhere, knives, a cheese grater, kitchen utensils, forks, everything sharp or bumpy was scattered across the floor and counter. I picked everything up and piled it into the sink. For the rest of the night, I stayed in the lab, occasionally checking on Reyna. Something was wrong with the growth and I didn’t know what. I’d measured every ingredient perfectly, my hands were steady, the texture and color was completely correct. Or so I thought. The next day, Reyna got worse. She scratched at herself every second she could, the rash getting worse and worse. It turned a deep pale purple color, and when it started to turn black is when I seriously started to worry. Her pupils were blown like saucers and her skin was pale. “Reyna, we have to go to the hospital, now.” I stated firmly, walking towards the bathroom door. She’d locked herself in the bathroom and wouldn’t come out. I knocked on the door but didn’t hear anything besides an occasional whine. “Reyna, open the door. Please.” She didn’t answer and I knocked harder. I jiggled the doorknob, my sweaty palms making it hard to grip. I heard her cry, a mix of agony and frustration. “Reyna! I’m coming in if you don’t open the door!” I turned to my side before banging my shoulder into the door, ignoring the pain that shot through me. I heard the door start to splinter and crack, and gave it one last blow before it gave in. I staggered forward and found Reyna curled up in the bathtub, a bloody steel wool pad clutched in her hand, her entire body shaking violently. I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. Her eyes were wild and wide. I approached her like I was approaching a rabid animal. As her entire body came into view, I could see her legs and shoulders had been itched to the point you could see pieces of skin tearing from the flesh. “Reyna..you have to stop. Please, let me take you to the ho-” She cut me off with a scream that bounced off the walls. It sounded wrong, like a dying animal crying for help. I crouched down beside the tub, my own hands beginning to shake. I slowly reached out and took the steel wool pad from her, the blood staining my fingertips. I tossed it in the trash and quickly turned to soak a towel in warm water. I only turned my back for a moment, and when I turned back around, I found that Reyna was scraping at her skin, or what was left of it with her fingernails. I dropped the towel and lunged to grab her wrists. “No! Stop!” Her blood was warm and unsettling as it started to drip more into the tub. “Get up, please!” I pulled her up, her legs bleeding and barely supporting her.

I got her out of the bathtub, but it was with great difficulty. She fought against me, screaming and thrashing. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what was happening to her. I whispered to her over and over, knowing she wasn’t listening. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay, just stop. Please just stop..” No matter how hard I tried to restrain her, she wouldn’t stay still. I couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks or swallow the lump in my throat. I couldn’t hold on to her without her screaming or her blood getting everywhere. I let her go and ran out of the bathroom, trying to close the door I’d busted open earlier. I ran to my lab after catching my breath, pulling out a sedative from a drawer and pulling some through a syringe. My hands shook so bad I almost dropped the needle twice. Not wanting to waste any time, I ran back to the bathroom and plunged the needle into her arm and pressed the plunger fast. Her body started to go slack, her eyes fluttering and rolling back. The rise and fall of her chest went from rapid to deep slow breaths in seconds. I sat there, completely exhausted, leaning against the cabinet. I got up and got back the towel from a few moments earlier and cleaned her up, getting more bandages and wrapping all her wounds. Seeing her like this broke me. I wrapped her arms and legs tight, then cut down her fingernails all the way. The decision I made next added onto the guilt building in my chest. The sedation I’d used was enough to keep her out until I got back from the hardware store. I carried her to the bed and left. I sped to the hardware store and walked in, an employee greeting me. “Welcome sir, is there anything I can help you find?”

“Chains..I need some..” The look on her face changed from friendly to weirded out. “For my boat..” I spurted out. She nodded and led me to the aisle. She didn’t stay though, leaving me isolated there. All the chains were in boxes labeled with different sizes and weights. I got two medium sized chains and two thick shackles. I didn’t even bother to look at the prices before carrying all of it to the register. The cashier gave me a suspicious look before scanning the tiny paper tags on the ends of the chains and shackles. “Have a good-” I was already out, speed walking to my car and throwing everything in the passenger seat. I drove home as fast as I could and got inside, swinging open the bedroom door with all the chains draped around my arm, the weight grounding and frightening at the same time. Reyna was still passed out on the bed. I exhaled in relief. This is crazy. I’m crazy. I basically flew down the stairs to the basement door, the chains rattling and jingling as they hit the stairs behind me. I pulled a key from my pocket, unlocking the door. The musty air hit my nose, forcing it to wrinkle. It smelled like cardboard and a lingering anti-septic. I wasted no time, turning on the lights and stepping further in. I had hoped it’d never come to this, but sometimes, hope isn’t enough. Once I tell you this, you’re going to think I’m insane, but you also have to truly understand the now known circumstances of my situation. I secured the cold chains to the walls, attaching them to the chain anchors buried in the walls. After that, I clipped on the two shackles and tested the strength. I pulled on the chains, letting them hold all my weight. I was about one-hundred and eighty pounds, and Reyna was one-twenty. My palms were sweaty and my chest felt like someone was squeezing my hammering heart. Everything will be okay. Then I sprinted upstairs and went into the guest bedroom, bundling all the sheets onto the mattress and dragging it out and down the stairs. My breath came in short exhausted gasps as I finally got the mattress to the basement. I put it against the wall and sort of made the bed. There we go.

After resting for a few minutes, I finally went back to the bedroom, where Reyna was still out cold. Her chest was rising and falling normally, but it sounded faintly like gravel, or an off-putting type of wheeze. The previously pristine white bandages had deep crimson splotches blooming from underneath and peeking through all over. I pulled off the blankets and picked her up bridal style, then carefully brought her downstairs. I lay her on the mattress and put the shackles on her thin wrists. I felt horrible, the guilt eating away at me from the inside. She was so violent before, and I couldn’t stand to see her like that. I closed the shackles, tears blurring my vision. I placed a pillow behind her head and stepped away, my back eventually hitting the wall across from her. My knees gave out and I broke, sobbing. You don’t know why because I obviously haven’t told you. I don’t know what I did wrong. After crying for a while, I got up, my legs feeling weak as I climbed up the stairs to the kitchen. I got a few cold bottles of water from the refrigerator and a loaf of bread, the bottles a sharp contrast against my flushed body.

I put them downstairs at the end of the bed, pressing a kiss to Reyna’s forehead and left, locking the door from the outside.

Although I could not stop crying, I went into the lab and began my work, not bothering to put on my apron or a pair of gloves. I unlocked the last drawer of my filing cabinet and pulled out my folder of papers and spread them across the desk. I spotted a tore out page of my journal, which was the recipe for the cure. I didn’t bother to put any of the other papers back after snatching that one, swiping all of the others to the ground. Usually my lab was pristine and never dirty, but now it didn’t matter. I read over the journal page numerous times, making sure those were all I used. I know this because for every individual project, I kept all the ingredients in one small cabinet or fridge if needed. I opened the cabinet in the corner of the room and brought out all the ingredients and put them on the table, careful not to drop or spill anything. I sat down and began comparing everything on the page to everything in front of me, and after multiple checks, I confirmed something was wrong. So horribly wrong. I spotted a tiny beaker of some type of plant, which I now recognized as Pilostyles. I didn’t add those in, right? Those shouldn't've even been near the growth inside the petri dishes. I started to panic, feeling my heart pound faster and faster. Pilostyles is a plant that lives entirely inside the stems of the host plant, and cannot photosynthesize on their own. They have to feed on their host by eating the nutrients from them. I realized all the ingredients I’d put in had messed with the growth. I immediately gloved up and pulled out my microscope, tweezers, a tiny glass slide and its cover. Carefully, I opened the petri dish and pulled out some of the growth, placing it onto the slide and quickly covering it with the thin plastic cover. I put it under the microscope but had to take a breath before looking in. Inside, I could see it moving, squirming. It was a mix of a dirt brown and a soft red blending and churning together. My heart must’ve frozen in my chest completely. I stepped back, my knees going weak. What’d I do wrong? How did this happen? Then something snapped me out of my daze.

My name. It was Reyna, calling my name from the basement. I ran faster than I knew I could downstairs, basically gliding. I unlocked the door and threw it open, my eyes immediately landing on Reyna. She was sobbing, trying to get out of the shackles, trying to itch. “Joseph! What is this? Let me out!” tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. Reyna was thrashing and she’d occasionally let out a frustrated scream. “I can’t let you go, something’s wrong, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you I just wanted the cancer to-” She froze completely. I said too much. “What are you talking about? What did you do?” she asked, her eyes wide and glassy. I got closer to her, crouching down to her eyelevel. “I..I tried to make a cure for your cancer but something went wrong, and I slipped it into your food and stuff for days and you didn’t know but you looked like you were getting better so I thought it was working but it didn’t!” The words came fast and jumbled.

Reyna stared at me, her eyes showing a mix of disbelief and betrayal. “Are you serious? Who gave you permission to do that? Joseph, how could you?!” She cried harder, her body shaking. I tried to put my hands on her shoulders but she shoved me off, the shackles jingling and echoing off the walls. “I’m sorry Reyna..please, trust me, I’ll find a cure for…this.” Reyna wasn’t listening. She wouldn’t stop screaming and squirming like she was trying to escape her own skin. It scared me more than the cancer did. “Reyna-”

“No! You… you did this. You didn’t even ask! You didn’t know that I didn’t want to live anymore!” Her voice got higher and angrier, but all I could focus on is what she said. She didn’t want to live. After how hard we worked? After all the chemo and medical bills, she didn’t want to live? I stared at her for a moment and then went to the door, hesitating. “I’ll be back to check on you.” With that, I shut the door, locked it, and went upstairs. Now, the moon shone through the beige curtains in the bedroom. Our bedroom. I lay on the made bed, the one Reyna previously had enough energy to make. I couldn’t stop thinking of what she said. “I didn’t want to live anymore.” I felt more angry than pity for some reason, and it kept me up until midnight. I eventually started to drift to sleep, when I heard a faint cry coming from the basement. It was worse than a cry. It was like a mix of a pained groan and a desperate, pleading cry for help accompanied by a quiet scraping sound. I got up, stumbled through the darkness and went to the garage and got a flashlight before going down to the basement again. The closer I got, the louder the cries got. “Reyna?” I opened the door only a crack first, shining the light in. The beam illuminated the tiny particles of dust in the air and I stepped in further and shined the light fully on her, her wails quieting for a moment. Any small remnants of sleep I had dissolved like sugar in water. There were bandages everywhere, scattered all around the mattress, which was shoved farther from the wall so there was a space in between. The bandages were covered in blood, some dry and some glistening against the rays of light. Reyna was barely standing, pressing herself against the concrete wall, scraping her shoulder on it.

I didn’t know what to do. I could see her flesh just…gaping. My light stayed in the middle of her face now, her pupils were blown and there were scratches on her cheekbones. I wanted to get closer, maybe try to comfort her, to tell her it was okay, but I knew it wasn’t going to. I couldn’t bear to see her like this, to hear her terrifying wails. It was like she wasn’t even there, her eyes like deep voids.

I went upstairs, not daring to stay another second. I went to the bedroom and opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a joint and my lighter. I didn’t smoke often, just when days at work stretched too long or the medical bills piled up. I lit it and put it between my lips, taking a long drag. I decided to get some air and went to the front porch. I took an extra joint with me. I sat outside, the smoke billowing into the cool night air. After I finished my smoke, I went back inside and attempted to sleep. I woke up hours later to more sickening wails from the basement.