His nurse, Shelby, lifted the T-shirt he’d changed into in anticipation of his release and examined his wound. “It’s not infected. I’ll call Dr. Solomon and request bloodwork.”
When Shelby left, Julia moved closer, but Miguel raised his hand. “Stay back, Julia. I think I know what this is.”
“The flu?”
“No. Covid. I’ve had it once already and recognize the symptoms.”
“Oh, God, Miguel. You could be laid up for days.”
“Maybe not. I had a mild case of it before.”
Julia frowned with doubt and worry. “I don’t know?—”
Shelby returned with a rapid Covid test and paraphernalia to take his blood. She swabbed his nose, which caused his eyes to water, then drew three vials of blood.
“Dr. Solomon put a rush on these labs, so we should have some answers fairly soon. In the meantime, he wants to start you on an aggressive round of antibiotics and Tylenol to take down your fever. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Julia took a couple steps toward the bed. “I wish I could hold your hand right now.” Her voice was soft, tremulous.
“I wish I could kiss you right now.”
Her deep brown eyes shone with a light as soft as her voice. “I’d risk catching Covid just to kiss you.”
Miguel grinned. “That’s devotion.”
Shelby interrupted their gentle flirting with news. Her eyes above her mask revealed it first. “The rapid test indicates you have Covid. We’re still waiting on your labs to confirm it.” She handed Miguel a tiny plastic cup with two horse-sized pills and two Tylenol tablets. “We’re getting you started on thoseantibiotics I mentioned. Unfortunately, this prevents you from being discharged today.”
Miguel swallowed the medication. “How long will I have to stay?”
“Ideally, you should stay until you’re no longer testing positive. You have a tough fight with it due to your surgery and weakened immune system. But I imagine Dr. Solomon will release you after your fever dissipates, and you’ve been on the antibiotics for a few days.” Shelby excused herself to tend to other patients.
Miguel punched the bed with his fist. “Nothing is going the way I’d like it to right now. Could this situation get any worse?”
Julia opened her mouth to say something, but her cell phone dinged with a notification. “It’s Tex. He says the fishing boat captain has returned alive.” She laughed. “The captain told quite a story about Axis and Axalia stowing aboard his boat and his tossing them overboard near Mexico’s coastline. Seems like he’s former military.”
“So, what are the chances they survived?”
“Oh, they survived. I’d bet my last dollar on it. And we need to be prepared. Get some sleep, Miguel. I have things to do.”
Miguel knew from his previous experience with Covid that resting was his only option, but he chafed at the inactivity and the delay in finding and apprehending the Andersons. Next time, he silently vowed, they wouldn’t get the jump on him. Next time, he’d drop them in their tracks.
He wanted to hear his friends’ voices and ask their advice but didn’t want to bother them. Justice and the team would be on the campaign trail for another week before taking a break and regrouping. By then he hoped the Andersons would either be in custody or dead, and he’d be able to join the others.
Finally, he closed his eyes and slept.
By noon, Miguel’s blood pressure had dropped within a normal range, but his temperature was still high. Covid gripped him fully now with chills and aching joints and muscles. He hadn’t lost his sense of smell or taste this time, but he could only tolerate soup and hot tea.
Julia had returned and stayed the obligatory six feet away from him. She’d never caught it during the pandemic and outbreaks of different strains that followed. She was supposedly one of those who were naturally immune to it. Shelby, however, had warned her not to violate protocol, or Julia would be banned from the hospital. Besides, they were already breaking strict rules by allowing her to visit Miguel.
He noticed she had exchanged his duffel bag for a backpack. “It frees up our hands,” Julia explained. “I packed a few surprises, too.”
“You really believe Axis and Axalia survived? That they’ll come after us?”
“My gut is screaming with forewarning. I don’t think they’ll come themselves. I think it’ll be General Escobar’s men who attack us. But we’re prepared, Miguel. Trust me.”
He did. With his life.
Two days later Miguel’s health had improved. He no longer suffered from fever and chills. His appetite had increased, providing his body with much-needed sustenance, and, in turn, augmenting his strength. Though he still tested positive for Covid, his discharge was imminent since he was ambulatory and displayed no respiratory distress.
