Read Online A Flock of Ill Omens by Hart Johnson - Free Book Online Page A

bring anything to him and Ricky, he sounded like death when he answered.”
    Shit. Sarah put her head in her hands.
    “Are you okay?”
    “I will be. I just really want this not to be happening,” Sarah said.
    “He only squeaked when I asked about needing anything. I could barely understand him.”
    “We have to go.” Sarah stood to grab her things.
    “I tried to convince him. He said no.”
    “You don't know all Grant's weaknesses.” Sarah could convince him to let them come.
    Sid grinned, picking up her own purse. “Atta girl.”
    Sarah picked up her phone and called Grant. Sid was right. He did sound like death.
    “Shut up, Grant. We're coming.”
    “No.” His hoarse whisper nevertheless had force. “Don't want you to get it.”
    “But you need someone to take care of you.”
    “Ricky and me...” His voice fell off and she couldn't understand him, so she hung up and she and Sid went to her car. They picked up Thai soup at a take-out place. Thai restaurants were all over Portland, but this one was famous for a soup that had both chicken broth and ginger—two of the more healing things Sarah could think of.
    When they got to the apartment they found parking, which was nice. In fact, the normally busy restaurant neighborhood was nearly deserted. But the easy parking was quickly counteracted by the locked building and their unwillingness to make two sick men climb down and then up three flights just to let them in. They buzzed first floor neighbors until they finally found one at home. Thankfully, she knew Ricky and Grant and was sympathetic to friends bringing soup to sick men. She let them in.
     
    It took ten minutes of knocking to bring Grant to the door, but he still wouldn't let them in. It sounded like he slid down the door on the other side.
    “I don't want to expose you.”
    “Geez, Grant, just let us bring in the soup we brought,” Sid said.
    “Leave it. I'll get it.”
    Sarah tried to think of a compromise. She was too experienced with Grant's stubbornness to think they'd change his mind, but maybe there was a middle ground. “We'll leave it if you shove your key under the door so we can come back again tomorrow without bugging the neighbors.”
    It seemed to take a long time for him to think that through, but finally a small packet with an alcohol-covered swab came under the door.
    “What's this for?” Sid asked, but Sarah knew. Sterilization.
    “Open it,” Grant said. “Use it to pick up and clean off the key before you touch it. And promise you'll wear a mask if you use it,” he said.
    “Okay,” Sid said.
    “Swear it!”
    “Done,” Sarah said.
    The key came through then and Sarah wiped it down with the alcohol before putting it on her key ring. “Okay, don't forget the soup is here.”
    “I'll get it when I see you leave the building.”
    Sarah knew he'd wait, too. He was more stubborn than she'd ever be, and she was no slouch at stubbornness. “We're going. Take care of yourself, okay?”
    “Mmmhmm.”
    “Love you.”
    “Love you, too, Nursikins. Love you, Scoop.”
    Sid wiped her eyes on the way down the stairs. “He hasn't called me that for years. After I lost my job at the Oregonian, the nickname smarted. He never picked it up again when I finally got my freelance legs under me.”
    ‘Nursikins’ gave Sarah her own pang for how free and easy things had been back then—the three of them, young professionals in a new city. None of them was attached and they'd counted on each other for everything. She hoped there was some miracle that would make them able to all count on each other again, but it wasn't looking so good.
     
    “Grant has it?” David asked when they got home.
    Sarah turned to David and felt her eyes sting. “I'm not getting the shot.”
    “I know, honey. I wouldn't want you to.”
    “But we can't afford to live here if I don't have a job.”
    “Probably it's just a few weeks and they'll have a better vaccine out. You can explain your fears and if