Elixr Plague (Episode 2): Infected Read online

  “No time for headaches,” she told herself, grabbing her stuff and heading to the front door. As she unlocked her little craftsman house on a secluded street, she glanced at her distant neighbors. One house, the MacVaynes’, looked empty. All the lights were out and none of their five cars—they had three teenage drivers—sat in the driveway. On the other side, Mrs. Maru, the widower, was dragging an over-packed suitcase to her car. She stopped and offered a quick wave at Jillian, then heaved her almost-bursting luggage in the car and went back in her house.

  Looks like I’m not the only one getting out of here…

  Jillian took a deep breath once inside her quiet house, then rushed to her bedroom and pulled out her own wheeled suitcases from their hiding place in her closet. She unceremoniously dumped clothes—especially underwear and bras—into the first bag, then moved onto t-shirts, jeans, shorts and socks. She paused, a pair of stretchy yoga pants in her hands. She didn’t do yoga, but loved the way the material made her legs look.

  Her eyes found her winter gear in the corner of the closet. Winter could be unforgiving in the UP and she wondered for a moment if the crisis would last that long. “Screw it, better safe than sorry.” She grabbed her thick coat and snow bib and threw that with her best winter hats and gloves on the bed.

  She moved through the house, dragging another bag into her kitchen, where she practically emptied her sparse pantry. She wasn’t a homebody and didn’t like cooking for just herself, so she didn’t have a lot of perishables. She did love tomato soup though, so the case she bought at Costco a while back was added to a pile on the kitchen table. Graham crackers, candy bars, dry cereal…these were the staples of her kitchen.

  Jillian jumped when her phone buzzed her pocket.

  Dad: How’s it going? Are you out of the city yet?

  She hastily replied: Not yet. Packing. Took forever to get home. Never seen the roads so busy.

  Dad: What??? Jillian, get what you’ve got and GO NOW! Things are only going to get worse.

  Jillian exhaled in frustration. Taking time to reply to his text was only making it take longer for her to get out.

  Me: I know, I know. I’m moving fast. Almost done. Call you on the road.

  A few minutes later, Jillian tossed the last of her suitcases and grocery bags full of food and toiletries into her now completely packed car. She sat in the driver’s seat and looked at her little house one more time, not knowing when—or if—she’d ever see it again. The end of the world was kind of open ended like that, she supposed.

  She started the engine and gripped the wheel, noticing her hands ached when she backed out of the driveway. She wasn’t surprised, as fast and as much as she’d packed, Jillian was sure she’d wake up tomorrow sore in a dozen places she didn’t know she could be sore.

  Charging her phone as she drove, she crept south on congested roads, always south, until she hit Interstate 75. It was a complete parking lot, but it was still the fastest way out of the city. Besides, it couldn’t stay packed with cars for long—Sault Ste. Marie wasn’t all that big, for crying out loud.

  Listening to the music on her phone—the radio was filled with nothing but doom and gloom—Jillian rolled along at a sedate 7 mph with the rest of the traffic, humming to whatever song popped up in her playlist. It had taken another hour to go nine miles south of town. When she approached the interchange with State Highway 28, the sign listed the distance to Beacon Point and Jillian remembered what she’d heard Frank say in the office about Desmond Martin, the man behind the Elixr debacle.

  He had a house and a research complex in Beacon Point.

  She had no idea where Beacon Point was, but as long as traffic was creeping along, she felt safe enough using Google Maps to figure out where it was. To her surprise, she discovered Beacon Point, Michigan was not that far away—due west along the southern shore of Lake Superior, just past Whitefish Bay.

  She stared at the brake lights on the car in front her. “I can do that.” She wiped at the sweat on her forehead. “I can do that—I can get to Beacon Point.” Hope blossomed in her chest. She coughed. Maybe it wasn’t hope. Maybe that dumbass at the gas station that morning had given her a cold after all.

  A tiny voice in the back of her head whispered a thought so dreadful she wasn’t quite sure she even allowed herself to hear it, but she had. Jillian’s aching hands gripped the wheel with white knuckles as she did her best to ignore the voice and focus on merging on 28 and leaving I-75 and the traffic snarl behind.

  Just as she was relaxing into her seat and picking up speed to almost 40 mph—crazy fast compared to what she’d just endured—the voice whispered to her again. She swallowed. A tickle in the back of her throat told her tomorrow she’d have a sore throat, too.

  What if the guy at the counter hadn’t had a simple cold? What if he’d really been telling her the truth? She swallowed. Why was her mouth so dry?

  What if he’d been infected with Elixr? What if he’d passed it on to her?

  Jillian clenched her teeth and gripped the wheel even tighter. She shook the thought from her head. It didn’t matter—whatever happened, she needed to find a place to stay for the night. It was getting on 8pm and the sky had long gone dark. She had a thirty minute drive to Beacon Point, according to the road signs. She’d figure out what to do next after she found a place to crash for the night.

  A new thought brought a smile to her lips. Dad will know what to do. She’d text him as soon as she got a hotel room. Maybe the phones would be working again. Jillian turned up the song on the radio and sang, following her headlights to Beacon Point and only coughing a little when she hit the high notes.

  What’s Next?

  The action doesn’t stop here! Episode 3 is coming soon!

  Have you read through the Elixr Plague story so far and need some more post-apocalyptic mayhem?

  Well, I have another series called The Wildfire Saga. You might want to check out my Future History of America series. Fair warning, it’s not for the faint of heart.

  If you want action, these books have plenty. If you want characters—lots of ‘em—these books are chock full of people, from presidents to foreign leaders, spies, rebels, soldiers, civilians, and even bikers.

  Want a paperback book you can sink your teeth into? The Future History books can also be used as doorstoppers.

  If you’re looking for something less action-packed, but more realistic, you may want to try my Solar Storm series. This post-apocalyptic story is set in the days immediately after the sun wipes out the global power grid and the entire world is essentially tossed back to the 1800s. Solar Storm is about one man’s quest to save his family and survive when the whole world goes dark.

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  About the Author

  MARCUS GRADUATED FROM the University of Delaware and later earn his law degree. Since then, he has at times been employed (or not) as: a highly over-qualified stock boy, cashier, department manager at a home furnishings store, assistant manager with a national arts and crafts chain, an acting store manager with the same chain, an unemployed handyman, husband, cook, groundskeeper, spider-killer extraordinaire, stay-at-home-dad, and writer.

  He currently lives with his wife, children, and one cheeky vizsla in Illinois—and he couldn’t be happier you’re taking the time to read this.

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  Books by Marcus Richardson

  THE ELIXR PLAGUE

  Book 1: Vector

  Book 2: Infection

  OTHER SERIES

  The Future History of
America

  The Wildfire Saga

  Solar Storm

  For my complete catalog, please see:

  marcusrichardsonauthor.com