Ignored by Omega

"I mean it, Jeff," Sharon stands her ground. "You bring this up to them and I'll beat the snot out of you".

Now I know she is feisty, but this is a bit beyond that. There is a hint of fear in her voice and I am once again getting that tingling feeling in the back of my neck.

I step in. It's a man thing you know. And say something fatherly.

"Jeff, do as your mother says and we'll talk about this more later."

Oh yeah, I showed him who runs this house.

Sharron turns toward me and gives me the "you are such an asshole and I can't believe I had kids with you" look. Don't deny it. You have either been on the receiving end as a husband or have thought that about your husband as a wife. And I did like all men in my position do. I raised my hands, palms out in mock defense, and said "What?" Oh yeah, pure manliness.

She grabs me by the shirt collar and pulls me to the door. I knock her hand off, but I follow her outside. We stand on the porch and stare at each other. Pure confrontation.

'How did we get to this?' I think to myself.

This was the woman I loved and the woman who treated me like a god walking the earth just a few years before. Now we are almost strangers and yet we shared a bed, a home, a family, and life. She was still attractive to me in a way no other woman ever had been. Annette was but a distraction. Someone to boost my ego and make me feel like I was still a player. Fat chance that. I wonder about Sharon and her teacher lover I'm not supposed to know about. She stares at me waiting as if I am supposed to say something.

"Well?" she asks. "Did you see that?"

I am not an amateur at spousal arguments. I am on guard.

"I was in the room with you Sharon, you know I did." She is past irritated.

"I mean what do you think?" She waits for me to respond, but I'm trying to think.

"Well?" she asks impatiently.

"Sharon, it's on the other side of the planet..."

She looks up at the sky as if to ask for divine help.

"Jack..." she pauses to collect herself. "I have been watching this all...day."

She is now talking slow to me. The tone she used to use with the kids when they were little. Nothing demeaning about it. Right? You talk to other adults that way yourself. Right?

"At first I thought it was some stupid story like Ebola in Africa. But this isn't isolated as that was. It's China and now India. Those countries have billions. That is billions with a capital B in population. And they don't seem to have this under control. What the hell..."

By now I have had enough of the lecture and interrupt.

"Sharon... SHARON!" I raise my voice to get her to pay attention.

She goes back to the "I hate you" look but stops.

"Sharon," I say in a conciliatory tone, "OK, so they are having a problem with something, but think about this. People going crazy and biting each other? Does that sound like anything you learned in nursing school?"

I regret saying that. A sore point between us as she stopped her nursing career to raise kids and had never stopped reminding me. I can see she is not amused, but surprisingly, my comment does not result in an escalation of hostilities.

"No. Nothing. That's what is bugging me. I heard all the talk today from three networks and the ones on the dish. All their doctors are saying the same, they don't have a clue what it is. So, I took out my books and then did some surfing. Nothing even close to it."

We went back in and made sure the girls were kept away from TV and news for the rest of the night. Being summer break, they had no homework and spent the night playing. We checked on them from time to time. Jeffy was another story. Right Jeff, whatever. He was in the dining room with his laptop and smartphone checking the news.

We were in the study downstairs on a desktop and switching back and forth on the cable news. For once, the political stuff was off, and the talking heads were focusing on the outbreak. "Plague news 24/7," one station said and it sure was. It wasn't long before FOX broke to a Sky News reporter in Baghdad.

The report was that an airliner from India had requested an emergency landing. The report had been going on for some time and Fox cut in just as the jet was on final approach. It was barely visible in the haze. But as it came closer, we could see it was banking and then correcting.

"...the Air India Airbus is now coming in to view..." you could see it heading for the strip, but somehow the plane looked in trouble. There was no fire, but it was swerving back and forth.

"His landing gear is still up... Oh my God..." his voice broke and trailed. The massive jet dipped a wing rightened and at the last minute, the landing gear deployed. It was still deploying when the jet hit the runway and bounced up again. I saw sparks where the now damaged wheels had exploded, and metal was scraping the runway.

Sharon covered her mouth as she let out a gasp.

The front-wheel hit but held. We could hear sirens and see emergency vehicles chasing the plane along the runway. I didn't think about it then, but I noticed that with the firetrucks were trucks full of armed soldiers. Also, some armored cars of some sort. Before I could say anything, the jet skidded to a stop and by now there was a fire on the starboard wing on the other side of the camera angle.

"The jet is on fire... the airbus is on fire..." the reporter was saying trying to keep his British composure. "...rescue crews are racing to the scene and for some reason are backed up by armed troops. We don't know if this is a terrorist-related event as earlier reported, but we heard from our sources that someone on the plane may...we are not confirming this...but may have attacked other passengers in tourist class. That we are told is in the rear of the plane."

As the fire crews stopped and started to deploy foam on the fire, the doors by the front and middle of the plane opened. The inflatable slide on the front began to deploy, but not in the middle door. Just then two people jumped out of the door falling twenty feet or so to the tarmac. One was motionless. The other looked injured but was still moving. I could see a mass of people sliding down the front slide... it seemed like one was on top of the other. It was a panic.

"...we are told that the pilot has indeed confirmed there was an altercation and that there has been fighting in the plane between passengers. Which would explain the armed troops, and the dogs."

By now soldiers were deployed in a circle around the damaged plane and pointing guns at the passengers streaming out. The camera was just far back to catch it all. Dog handlers were restraining their canines, big shepherds. What caught my eye was the commotion at the middle door. People were fighting by the exit and I saw another person, a woman jump out. She was western, her blond hair very noticeable. When she hit, I winced. Sharon shook her head.

"That's not good," she said. The nurse in her coming out. I guess she could tell. "Definitely, broken bones. Possible concussion".

Two medics were busy placing the first person to jump on a stretcher. Another medic was carrying a woman in an Indian sari to safety. Neither group noticed that the woman who had just bounced off the tarmac had risen and was crawling toward them.

"Look, look!" said Sharon pointing at the woman. I was mesmerized by the entire scene.

Just then, a group of soldiers with a dog ran toward them. Barking wildly the dog was jumping and straining his leash; the handler barely controlling the mastiff. The bloodied western woman rose and with outstretched arms staggered toward the medics. One had his back to her and didn't notice as she reached him. To my horror, and to that of anyone who saw it, she leaned down and... bit him on the neck!

"What the fuck!" I heard myself say. Sharon made a whimpering sound.

"Oh my God, that woman just bit the paramedic... she is still biting him..." the reporter was now yelling into the microphone. All sense of British decorum gone.

The other paramedic tried to restrain her, but she turned on him instead. They struggled and she fell on top of him. The man raised his hands to protect himself just as a soldier fired his rifle on her across the back. Other than some slight recoil from the bullet force, she kept her position over the squirming paramedic. Her mouth seemed to be snapping at his hands. More shots. This time one hit her on the back of the head and her face on the other side came apart all over the paramedic.

"Did you get that?" the reporter was saying more to himself than to his London news bosses. "They shot her... and she... they shot her!"

But she was not alone. By now the soldiers were separating passengers coming out the front end. They had set up a line and the dogs were sniffing them all as they went past. They barked more than once and those so identified were pulled aside; family members shrieking in despair trying to reach their loved ones that were dragged away.

One child, a young boy was fighting back and bit a soldier. The soldier next to them shot the kid in the head. Then turning toward his fellow soldier, pointed the gun at him as well. The man seemed to plead for a brief second with both hands up in submission. Just then another soldier, maybe an officer with a pistol shot the bitten soldier in the face.

"Holy shit" I heard from the door and saw Jeff standing there. His eyes glued to the screen. I don't know how long he had been there. Sharon tried to get between him and the TV, but Jeff pushed her out the way.

"I have to see this Mom." It was all he said to her and she stopped cold. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the shock of what she had just witnessed, but she sat back down and just held his hand. And at that moment I knew. My son was no longer an innocent boy. It snapped my attention from the TV screen and the horrific images.

"I'll be back," I said and went upstairs to check on the girls. Thank God they were still there and asleep on the floor next to a pile of stuffed animals and Barbies. Turning on the night light, I closed their door and rushed downstairs. Sharon and Jeff were both where I had left them.

The reporter was still droning on, but the sound had been turned down. The jet was now on fire and the fire crews seemed to have pulled back. There was more firing of guns and the camera zoomed back so the detail was no longer there. But now we could see more troops and armored vehicles on the scene.

"Dad, they shot all the people coming out!" Jeff said as he shook his head. "Do you think they were all infected?"

"Did they say they were?" I asked.

"They implied it a minute ago" Sharon cut in, "but I think that woman looked it. Did you see how she took multiple shots? It reminds me of some drugged out people brought to the ER. They are so wound up; you can shoot them, and they keep coming."

Just then Fox cut to the studio to a clearly shaken blond woman trying to look composed. Sharon switched it over to CNN. They had a replay of the earlier shooting. We settled for CBS. They still had a live Baghdad feed. We watched in horror as person after person jumped off the plane and was shot outright by the soldiers. They were no longer taking chances.

"...this is a massacre. They are killing everyone who is coming out. They don't care that the world is watching... they are just killing them."

The fact that bullets had little effect on the bodies of these passengers eluded the reporter. The passengers didn't seem to care. They would stagger when hit and continue forward toward the soldiers. They were not running, but they were walking with a deliberate purpose; arms outstretched, fingers apart. Two reached the firing line and set upon a soldier reloading. Others around them shot the passengers... and the soldier. He went down hard. They kept coming.

"They're infected," said Sharon matter of fact like, nodding to herself. A medical diagnosis.

"So, it's real" my words to myself, as well my family.

"Dad... they're not dying! They are still coming" this from Jeff. "Only the ones shot in the head are. I have to post this on Facebook and Twitter."

And with that, he ran to the dining room and his laptop. He came back with it and sat alternating typing and looking for brief seconds at the horror unfolding before our eyes. While adults were watching in horror, this young boy had seen something that would save lives if people knew it. I know others probably figured it out, but I like to think that my son's postings helped someone someplace live. It's not much to hold on to, but sometimes it's all I have.

By now the soldiers were firing their weapons on full-automatic and I could make out stronger sounds of what seemed like heavier guns. An armored car drove up and its turret belched automatic fire into the seemingly infected passenger pack. Some of their bodies seemed to disintegrate. Yet others kept coming. One was still crawling... it had no legs, but it kept crawling. I no longer thought of the thing as a living person. Not a her or a him. Just an IT.

This went on for another five minutes before the firing slowed and movement stopped. But it seemed like an hour. By then the back of the plane was engulfed in flames. And the soldiers were shooting all the still moving passengers in the head.

We were all in shock after what we had seen. But hungry for an answer to the surreal event we had just witnessed, we switched channels a few times. Every news source we turned to had medical and security "experts" trying to make head or tail of what they had just witnessed. Some tried to be factual, but some were literally in denial. On one panel a woman was trying to parrot the BBC reporter about military overreaction. The rest of the panel turned on her pointing out that the passengers had been definitely infected.

Eventually, the White House sent out its spokesman to give a short statement appealing for calm in light of the situation overseas. As he was rushing off, he answered only one question when a reporter asked if this could spread here in the western hemisphere.

"There have been no such reports." Great... I felt so reassured.

"What an idiot," sneered Sharon. "I bet he is lying."

While Jeff was busy typing, I motioned her to follow me to the kitchen. We tried to eat something, but mainly stared at the sandwiches we made. As she made to take some to Jeff, I reached for her. I wanted to grab, but I just touched her. She stopped uncomfortably.

"Do you think it can come here? I mean spread here?"

It was a desperate question, whose answer I already knew, but was unwilling to let myself admit to. She put the plate down. Sharon was already past me and what I was thinking. She was staring away rocking back and forth. She was holding her smartphone in one hand, while with the other she was clutching her ponytail. Then she abruptly turned to me.

"Jeff, I am so sorry about everything that has happened between us. "She turned toward me and for the first time in months, I saw the Sharon of old. "Jeff, I'm scared."

I was shocked into silence. She took my face in her hands and kissed me. Not a sexual kiss, but one of need? One I have not had from her in a long time.

"Jeff... the kids. We need to protect the kids" she practically begged. I think I nodded. Not sure after all that has happened. "I know you're not happy with me and how I have been lately."

She looked down and bit her lip again.

"Hell, I haven't been happy with myself either. But..."

"Sharon" I tried to say, but it seemed she had said enough for us both.

I tried to smile at her and opened my arms. She came to me and we hugged. God, I had missed this, but a hell of a way to get it back. I think we were both crying when Jeff came in and hugged us both. All three of us went upstairs to check on the girls but chose not to wake them up. They didn't need to know about this yet.

When we went back down, we sat in the living room and turned the TV off. For a long time, we said nothing. What we had seen was no TV show or horror flick. It had been real people living the horror. Eventually, Jeff went to sleep on the couch, and we went upstairs to check the kids again. Sharon and I must have checked, double and triple checked the door locks and that the garage was closed. We left the outside lights on and also every light in the house as well, with exception of the girls' room and the living room.

Then we sat on the bed and placed our phones on our night tables. For a minute I debated turning on the TV set but tossed the remote down and turned to face Sharon. She was sitting on the other side staring at me. The angry look was gone, replaced by a look of worry and bewilderment.

"When we took our classes on infectious diseases, I saw all kinds of stuff. Symptoms that will make you sick to your stomach. But I never thought I would see humans... did they say that the infected reanimate? Or that they... turn when they are still alive after a time?"

The whole day had been too much for me. My hands started to shake. It was shamefully uncontrollable and a bit pathetic. A grown man trembling while his wife, who was already thinking about replacing him, watched him confirm her notion that he was a loser. For some reason, Sharon didn't make a face or a nasty comment. She didn't turn away or walk out. Instead, she pulled me to her and held me until the shakes stopped. Oh yeah...I was such a man. Others strive to be like me... right before they throw up.

But she made no fuss over it. Instead, she seemed eager. We connected in a way we had not done so in years. Our first time was rushed and near frantic. I thought it was the stress and fear of what we had witnessed earlier. Maybe fear of what was to come for us and our family. But after we both came, she held on to me like she had not in months. We said nothing to each other during and even after. I guess we were both too scared to say anything to spoil the moment.

But something seemed... wrong. I could not put my finger on it. After all, it had been a while since she and I connected this much. When I woke in the morning, she was awake and dressed getting the kids ready for day camp. When I went close for a hug, I could tell she had been crying.

After some moments of awkwardness, I had to leave for work. I went to my job, and the place was different. People were trying to work, but you could tell we were all trying to digest the shock of what we had all witnessed the night before. But some had not. Amazing how some people live their lives without paying attention to the news or what is going on in the world. How do they manage to not have a friend or relative who would call or text? But we did have a few of those.

The shock on their face as their coworkers turned on You-tube and showed them the clip was... well, it would have been priceless. Instead, it was sad. One by one we all realized that there was something out there that could take our life away and that of our loved ones in seconds. And we could be infected if someone with it were to get near us. I noticed that people started to watch each other and keep their distance. Around ten I had a meeting, but it was canceled. Worried, I looked at the news on my smartphone. The headlines on CNN, FOX, and all the rest were the same. Multiple cases in Europe. It was spreading.

At around eleven AM I got a frantic call from Sharon. She wanted to take out our money from the bank and start buying food and other things. I almost made some silly comments about us not being the survivalist types but thought better of it. She had been nice to me the night before. That had made me have hopes we could continue patching things up. She thanked me for agreeing, hesitated for a second, said "take care of yourself" and hung up.

I checked in an hour and our savings account had been drained of the $5000 we had stashed in case of emergency. What was she going to buy? I wondered. What does one need in such a situation? What was I thinking? As if there was a manual for a plague that could end humanity. Even with corona, we had only taken out $1000 for some food and toilet paper. We still had canned food from then and the toilet paper had lasted us a few months. So why take all our money out?