DISEASE: A Zombie Novel by M.F. Wahl Read Free Book Online Page A

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    The day Oliver relinquished his son to Lot a soft knock had come at the door and Opie slithered across the carpeted room to open it. On the other side sat the decrepit man sitting lopsided in his wheelchair. Behind him stood Danny, then a quiet boy with a mop of blond hair and striking blue eyes.
    “Come in, Brother,” Opie smiled. In the Old World he’d always been relaxed and upbeat. Oliver offered back a labored smile and Lot could see it was an effort to control his muscles for even such a simple task.
    The boy tried to push the wheelchair through the doorway but Opie stopped him. “I’ll take your father. You wait outside in the corridor and keep still.” The boy looked to his father, but he twitched his hand, motioning for Danny to comply.
    Once Opie had guided the boy into the unadorned hallway, he shut the door and pushed Oliver to face Lot. Inwardly she cringed, but outwardly she smiled warmly. “Brother Oliver, thank you so much for seeing us.”
    Oliver gummed every word out of his wasted mouth. “It’s… a pleasure.”
    “Nonsense, the pleasure is mine. I trust you’ve found the other members accommodating to both yourself and your son so far?”
    “Quite.”
    “Good, good. I’m glad.”
    Lot paused to look gravely at Oliver. She closed her laptop and folded her delicate hands in front of her, holding the silence a few moments and intentionally allowing the ailing man before her to become uncomfortable. It was amazing, the power a little silence had and it was a trick that still served her well.
    Oliver’s head shook with the tremendous effort it took to speak. “Is… everything… alright, Sister?”
    Lot sat back, calmly assessing the situation. She knew her cool calculation was usually taken as thoughtful repose. “Oliver—I hate to speak with you about this, but I haven’t a choice.”
    Lot waited again, forcing the cripple before her to respond. Every word was a struggle for him and soon he’d have no voice at all.
    “What… is… it?”
    “We don’t feel that Danny’s adjusting to life here very well.”
    A bright sheen of panic glazed over Oliver’s eyes. Lot was surprised by how quickly it happened—had been expecting the need to push harder, but the man was desperate.
    “He’s… adjusting. He… just… needs… a little… more time.”
    “This isn’t a judgment, Oliver. It’s very hard for a boy his age. You’ve moved across the country, uprooted him, taken him away from everything he’s ever known—his home, his friends. His mother is already gone, and now he’s facing a future without a father, too.”
    “You… have to… give us… more… time. We’ve… only been here… a month.”
    “He doesn’t participate in services, doesn’t obey his elders, and overall he seems unhappy.”
    “Please! I’ve… given… you… everything!”
    “Oliver, listen to me, I know this may be hard to digest, but sometimes the miracle we want isn’t the miracle we need.”
    “What… do… you… mean?”
    “You are dying, and there is nothing we can do about it. Your ALS has progressed so far that you’ll be lucky to see next year. Isn’t that why you came to me in the first place?”
    “Yes… but—”
    “Listen to me. Nothing is going to stop your disease. Not begging, not prayer, not good will. Soon you’ll no longer be with us. Meanwhile, your little boy not only has to watch his father waste away in front of his eyes, but also has the added burden of caring for him. It’s no wonder Danny can’t adjust to life here, you are preventing him from having a childhood.”
    Oliver’s face crumpled in dismay, it was so easy. Lot had seen a perfect opportunity several months back, when he’d first made contact with her and now she was sure he’d hand her the keys to the city, no questions asked. Tears began to leak from his eyes.
    “Opie, get him a Kleenex, would you?” Opie appeared from the side with the tissues, almost too quickly. It was as if