Embers in the Night

“Dude, I invited you over to NOT think about the end of the world. Why are you telling me this?”

Ben threw the Nerds Cluster he was eating at the young gangly man holding a phone up at him.

“But it’s getting serious,” Chase said in a small defensive voice. His red hair had tumbled into his eyes and he blew it away. “Facebook says that there are riots in London, and that the death toll has reached half a million in Australia.”

Ben gave him an annoyed look before taking the phone from his hands to read the article. Below a photo of Buckingham Palace in flames the headline read, “Is this the end?” scrolling through, Ben felt the hair on his arms start to rise in goosebumps.

"Sources say that the royal family has been moved to one of their country estates for their own safety in light of the civil unrest amongst the citizens of England.

We have been informed that they have held a private service for the late Princess Anne who passed earlier this week.

A spokesperson for the royal family has stated that Prince William is devastated at the passing of his favorite aunt, but understands the importance of keeping himself and his family safe in these unprecedented times.

Meanwhile, the people of Australia are desperately looking to their sovereign for any guidance and assistance as the death toll surpasses 500,000. So far, there has been no support from the United Kingdom as flames ravage the capital..."

“Is this even a viable source?” Ben asked, handing the phone back.

Chase said nothing, instead he went to the window and pulled the broken blinds back. “I want you to look outside and tell me if you need me to cite my sources for you.”

Ben didn’t need to go to the window. He knew what state New Orleans was in. The entire city was boarded up and looters could be heard yelling in the square. Usually, the people of New Orleans didn’t board up their windows unless it was hurricane season, but there had not been a drop of rain for the past two weeks. This new strain of Covid had everyone preparing for the worst. Two days ago, Ben had gone to his brother’s apartment to check in on him at his mother’s insistence. She had not heard from Arthur and was worried. But she was in Lafayette, and could not make it to New Orleans with the gas ration in place. So she called Ben and had him perform his duties as oldest brother and check on Art.

As he approached the blue shotgun house, he was preparing his speech on how important it was for his kid brother to answer their mother’s texts and calls because she worries, and Arthur would feel horrible if he was the cause of her second heart attack. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that Plato, his brother’s cat was in the front window meowing softly.

Picking out the key on his keyring, Ben hoped that his brother wasn’t on the couch surrounded by empty fast food wrappers and Dr. Pepper cans watching cartoons blitzed out of his mind. He placed the key in the lock and was met by Plato as soon as he walked in. There was no Arthur on the couch, but the TV was on. A game of Minecraft paused on the screen and showed that Arthur was in the middle of building a massive castle made from some black blocks. Ben patted Plato’s soft head and called out.

The only answer was Plato’s quiet purr. Sighing, Ben made his way down the long hallway that ran the length of the house. He looked in the kitchen, nothing but dirty dishes and an overflowing trash can.

As he passed the bathroom, he called out again, “Arthur, this isn’t funny man. Where are you?”

There still was no answer as he reached the bedroom, with his heart pounding in his throat he gently pushed the door open. Arthur was lying on the floor, only his feet showing from the other side of the bed. Ben ran to him and turned his brother over. Arthur’s brown skin was ashy and he was lying on top of a pool of vomit. Ben felt a faint pulse and pulled his phone from his pocket with shaking fingers and dialed 911.

After the paramedics arrived and loaded Arthur in the ambulance, a pudgy paramedic with a shining bald head pulled Ben aside.

“Due to the overcrowding in the hospital, we can’t allow you to come with him.” he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist, “This is our sixth case today. I’m not a doctor, but all of our other cases have been Covid, safe to say this is too.”

“Is it this new variant?” Ben asked.

“I'm not sure,” The paramedic’s blue eyes were bloodshot and a bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face. “It doesn’t look good son, you might want to prepare for the worst.”

With that, the paramedic left and Ben was alone on the stoop of his brother’s house. He almost jumped out of his skin as he felt something brush against his bare leg. When he looked down, he was pleased to see it was only Plato. Her large green eyes looked up at him as she rubbed against his leg again. She didn’t protest when Ben reached down and picked her up. Holding her to his chest, he pet the soft fur between her ears.

The looting started that night. Miscreants waiting for the opportunity took the chance with everyone either in the hospital or evacuating the bowl of a city to get what they could not afford. That first night, Ben lay awake in his apartment listening to the sounds of glass shattering and police sirens that always sounded too far off in the distance. Plato curled up next to him and purred quietly until she fell asleep. He had spent the last 24 hours trying to think of anything but his sick brother lying in a hospital surrounded by strangers and possibly dying and what felt like the end of the world.

Now here was Chase, shoving it back in his face.

“Well, what do you propose we do about it?” Ben asked, his anger flaring.

Chase looked down and moved away from the window, “I know what I’m doing. I’m going to get the hell out of here.”

“What are you going to do, walk? You’ve used up all of your gas rations for this month.” Ben asked as he reached out to pet Plato.

Chase collapsed on the couch next to him, “A couple of guys in my complex have been siphoning gas from cars in the hospital parking lot. We are going to pile up in Tony’s Tahoe and head to Mississippi.”

“You can’t be serious,” Ben said, dropping his hand from Plato and staring at Chase wide-eyed. “You have been stealing gas from people at the HOSPITAL?”

“You know as well as I do that the people in that hospital aren’t going to make it back out,” Chase said with a sad smile. “You can come with us. Pack up Mr. Puddy Tat here and get the hell out before everything goes ape-shit.”

Ben fell back onto the couch, after a few moments of silence, he responded, “I can’t leave Art, man. You and I both know my mom would kill me.”

Chase gave a sad chuckle and let his eyes fall. Standing up, he scratched under Plato’s white chin, “We are going to leave first thing in the morning. At five AM. If you change your mind, meet me at my apartment.”

With that, Chase left. The door made a soft click as it latched and Ben listened to his footsteps go down the hall, then descend the stairs. Bringing the calico cat to his chest, he buried his face in her warm, soft fur. He sat like that until the first bomb fell on Charity Hospital.