Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Six Years Ago
Pax
Nothing has ever been impossible for me. I refuse to let this be the first time.
My parents’ money has always opened doors. I’ve never had to wonder if I could get tickets to a concert or a table at a hot new restaurant. It’s not our style to flash our wealth for attention, but I’d drop my parents’ names to anyone and pay anything to get Hannah back to me.
She wanted a weekend at a beach house for her bachelorette party. I insisted on a long weekend in London, where she’s always wanted to visit. She was so excited to tell her sister and close friends that the entire cost had been covered and they were going to her dream destination.
Now she’s in danger because of that stupid fucking idea of mine.
In a matter of twenty-four hours, an airborne virus has crippled the entire world. According to the news, it’s highly communicable and it’s killing people quickly. Air travel has been suspended worldwide. Social media is expecting the Rapture.
From the living room of the downtown Boston loft I share with Hannah, I’ve been working every lead I have trying to get her and her bridal party on a flight home. My parents have been trying too, from their place in Aspen.
I was awake all night trying to figure something out. My dad says he can’t even fly on his own plane because the airports have all been locked down by the US military. We have to find a private one and pay our pilots enough that they’ll risk making the trip.
This is what fear is. It’s the first time I’ve experienced the clawing, desperate terror of helplessness. I tried to eat last night, but I threw up everything immediately. Now I’m just running on coffee and adrenaline.
An incoming text dings on my phone and I lunge at it.
Hannah: I’m trying to be strong for the others, but I’m so scared. Libs has asthma, and if she gets this virus, I think she’ll die. I know you’re trying your best to get us out of here. I miss you and love you so much.
From the news reports I’m reading, everyone who gets it seems to be dying. It’s even taking out the doctors, nurses, and paramedics treating patients.
Hannah’s being the strong one for her sister and friends, so I need to be the strong one for her.
Pax: I love you babe and I’ll do whatever it takes to get you guys back. I paid you up for the next two weeks at the hotel, so just stay locked in your room where you’re safe.
Hannah: Thank you. Text me as soon as you hear anything that might help, even if it’s not a sure thing.
Pax: I will. If I can’t get you back here, I’ll come to you. I’ll take a boat and steal a car if I have to.
Hannah: I’m so ready to have your babies.
I smile at the phone.
Pax: Someday we’ll tell them about this, when it’s just a memory.
A fucking nightmare of a memory. I’m texting my dad to see if he has any new leads when I get a text from a college buddy I had asked for help.
Chris: I would if I could, but I can’t even buy enough gas for my plane to make it across two states to get my brother and his family because the gas stations are all out of gas. Good luck.
He tried to get me to take that pilot course with him our sophomore year. I’ve been beating myself up over the possibility that I could be on the way to get Hannah myself right now if I’d done it.
I type out a quick response and am writing a text to my dad when I get one from him.
Dad: I’m sending a car for you. ETA 90 mins. Be ready.
My hands tremble as I type a message out.
Pax: Am I going to an airport? Did you get clearance or is there an orange jumpsuit in my future? I’m going either way.
Dad: It’s all taken care of. Don’t worry.
The laugh that bursts out of me is more like a sob. My dad came through.
When Hannah accepted my marriage proposal, my parents told her in their congratulatory FaceTime call with us that they were thrilled to be getting a daughter. I’ve never been so grateful for my small but close-knit family. I don’t know if we’ll be able to help the rest of her family, but at least we can get her and her bridal party home.
I have to pack. Standing up from my seat, I write a text to Hannah while I’m walking toward our bedroom.
Pax: Leaving in 90 minutes for an airport. Don’t know which one. Might be a small private one. Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.