William Weber - System Failure

“‘Peaceful Grove Senior Care Facility,’” Holly said, reading the sign over the front door emblazoned in fine gold lettering.

Below the name was the home’s motto. “‘A place for living,’” Johnny said, a healthy dose of skepticism in his voice.

Despite the building’s size, the dormer windows and canopy out front added to the warm and homey feel of the place.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Manny said, undoing his seat belt. Manny’s grandmother was a resident here and since it was on the way, he had wanted to check in and make sure she was all right. He closed the door behind him, leaving Johnny, Holly and Dillon in the snowcat.

“I don’t see why this is necessary,” Johnny complained. “Didn’t he say his sister and brother-in-law probably came by already?”

“Not really,” Holly replied. “He said he hoped they had. That’s not the same thing as actually doing it.”

Dillon blew air through his closed mouth, flapping his lips.

“Honey, don’t do that. It isn’t nice.”

The boy ignored her and did it again.

Johnny sat up straight and wiped dots of Dillon’s saliva off his jacket. “Kid, this jacket cost more than you.”

“I wanna get out,” Dillon said, touching the side of his head. “Wanna get out.”

“Manny won’t be long,” Holly told her son, worried another episode was on the way. She had given him the final half tablet of Zoloft a few hours ago, but it seemed to be wearing off.

“Can you take him for a walk or something?” Johnny asked, annoyed.

“He isn’t a dog,” Holly snapped.

“Wanna get out,” Dillon cried, louder this time.

Johnny crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, then maybe he needs another pill.”

She grimaced, unwilling to tell this selfish excuse for a human being she had run out. That was when she had an idea. She’d asked Manny to swing by a pharmacy on the off chance it hadn’t been completely looted.

Yeah, right.

He had agreed, but maybe that stop wouldn’t be necessary. Maybe she could find what she needed here.

“Wanna get out.”

“Okay, honey,” she said, zipping up his jacket. “Let’s give Johnny some peace and quiet.”

“That’s a great idea,” Johnny said, lacing his fingers behind his head and reclining.

They stepped out into the cold, hurrying along a rough path Manny had already carved in the deep snow. Entering the front lobby, they came to a desk where a single candle was burning. Holly leaned over the desk, half expecting to find someone there. But it was empty.

Another sign overhead listed the benefits of life at Peaceful Grove. ‘Caring staff twenty-four seven; fully licensed medical professionals on hand; daily exercise and activity.’

“Sounds nice, doesn’t it?” Holly said. “Maybe we should move in.”

Dillon’s eyes dropped to his boots. “I don’t like it.”

“I was kidding, honey. But we do need to see if we can find some medicine for you.”

With no luck at the front desk, Holly and Dillon went through a push door that led deeper into the facility. Their breath plumed before their eyes, which wasn’t all that unusual given the heat was out.

But the moment they opened that door something new greeted them, an odor that struck them like a slow-motion punch to the gut, a mix of two contrasting smells—on the one side, ammonia from festering diapers; on the other, a not-so-subtle hint of death.

They passed a room with an elderly man and a large black woman tucking a heavy quilt under his shoulders. A lone candle on a side table threw shadows against the walls.

“Excuse me,” Holly said.

The woman jumped, startled. She held onto the bed’s guard rail with one hand and clutched her heart with the other. The woman’s name tag read ‘Louise’. “Oh, Lordy, you frightened me.” Her eyes dropped to Dillon. “Miss, you shouldn’t be back here.”

“I’m after a friend who came in a few minutes ago. He was searching for his grandmother.”

A sudden flash of concern streaked across her face. Or was that fear? “What’s her name?”

Holly opened her mouth to say something before realizing she didn’t know. “He never said. Um, his name is Manny.”

“Look, we got nearly two dozen patients left and only ten percent of the staff left to care for them.”

“Patients left?” she repeated.

“I woulda run off with the others if I had any faith I’d get home in one piece,” the woman said. “There are two kids and a pretty useless husband back home probably scared out of their minds.”

Holly began to leave. “I think I’ll just look around for my friend. Sorry to have disturbed you, Louise.”

“Lady, you need to go find Mr. Earl. He’s the one in charge of this place now.”

She stopped. “Mr. Earl?”

“Francis Earl Duncan. Goes by Earl. He used to be the accountant before the head administrator, Sally Johnson, took off. Since then, nothing gets done here without Earl’s say-so. If your friend Manny wants to find his grandmother, I suggest you talk to Earl.”

Holly decided to follow that advice. It sounded as though Earl was running a tight ship here at Peaceful Grove. It followed that if anyone around here had the authority to get the Zoloft she needed, it was him.

Holly continued down a long corridor, scanning one room after another. Most of them were dark, and the few she could make out looked empty.

Manny, where the hell did you go?

Far from a chance to resupply, this place was starting to give her the creeps.

She came to a pair of swinging doors that led to the kitchen. Inside, a thin man with a white apron was wrestling a large can of tomatoes.

“Are you Earl?” she asked.

The man stopped and regarded her with a look of surprise. “How’d you get in here?” he asked, as though she’d stumbled into Fort Knox.

“There was no one at the front desk. I was told to find Earl.”

The man appeared doubtful. “Earl’s in his office. Go down the hall and hang a right. But he doesn’t want visitors.”

“Oh, did he say that?”

“Earl never wants visitors. You’re looking for a family member, aren’t you?”

“Kinda.”

“Yeah, most folks came knocking the first couple days. Soon they stopped coming altogether. With the roads blocked and the power out, we haven’t been getting any supplies either. Not sure how much longer we can keep this up.”

She was about to leave but asked on a whim, “Seems a little late for a meal, doesn’t it? I thought old folks ate dinner in the early afternoon?”

The man’s gaze fell to the giant can in his hands. “This isn’t for them. It’s for the staff.”

“Oh, they’ve already eaten, I see.”

“Nope, Earl’s got them on a strict water-only diet. Got us scooping up snow from outside in great big buckets and letting it slowly melt here in the kitchen.” He pointed to one such bucket sitting on the floor at the end of the food prep table.

Holly wondered if she’d heard him right. “Water only?”

“Uh-huh, don’t ask me why though. Residents don’t like it one bit, but anyone on the staff who disobeys is either banished out into the cold or threatened with cut rations.”

“You’re all prisoners,” she said, mortified.

He wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. “Sure feels like it. Earl catches any of us feeding a resident, we face the same penalty. Fact, you speak to him in a tone he doesn’t like and things suddenly go real bad for you, if you know what I mean.”

“Why don’t you just leave?”

He set both hands on the table. “Leave and go where? You’ve seen what it’s like outside. Everyone who’s left to go get help hasn’t come back. I’d rather take my chances in here than face what’s waiting out there.”