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his ranger uniform is noticeably loose; there is almost nothing to him.  I set him down delicately on the couch.  As I pull away, I pause at the blood stains that are now on my own clothes.  He looks up at me with grateful eyes and manages a small smile.  I guess he is around forty years old, but now he seems more like a helpless child. I notice his right hand hanging over the side is shaking.  A blanket rests on the chair beside him and I throw it over him.  His eyes again show thanks.  I can tell he is trying to speak, but he fails and quickly gives up.
                  The door to the trailer flies open.  My sister walks in with the gun at the ready.  She heard my scream.  It only takes a second for her to see the ranger.  She immediately looks at me, her eyebrows show an immediate empathy. She kneels beside him, at a lost for words. 
                  Then she musters up the courage and delicately says, “What can we do?”  His bloodshot eyes stare back into hers.  His chest expands as he gasps for air.  After a moment, he changes his gaze to the kitchen. 
                  “Medicine? Painkillers? Water?” Jo questions the man.  He manages to shake his head just a little. Jo looks back at me. “Go to the kitchen and see if you can find anything.”
                  There are no decorations, and the only appliances are a tiny stove and a fridge.  Between them is a table big enough for one.  On the table is a vinyl tablecloth and a handwritten note sits on top of that. That won't help him.
                  “Ask him if it’s in a cabinet or something.”  I start to open drawers.  I hear Jo speaking to him, but I don’t hear a response.  I go through drawer after drawer and find nothing aside from some aspirin.  The fridge has some food but nothing helpful. I walk back over and kneel beside my sister.
                  “There isn't anything I can find. What do you need?” I calmly ask. I want to help him more than anything.  Again, his eyes go to the kitchen then back to mine.  Then his eyes drop to his hand.  With his hand he presses two fingers together with his thumb and slowly moves it back and forth.  I begin to run through all the things he could be doing. What does he...a pencil.  He is writing.  I look around the room for a second.  Maybe a prescription.  Then I remember the note.
                  “The note?” I curiously ask. He nods a fraction of an inch. I hurry to grab the note and bring it back to him.  He sees it and nods again.  I hold it out so my sister can also see it, and we both begin reading.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 10: William
    Never before have I experienced pain like I bear now.  It has been nearly a week since I first showed the signs and somehow I have managed this long.  It began when I noticed my chest was a bright red color in the mirror.  Then the rest of the horrors followed. However, none of the pain I physically dealt with prepared me for what was to come.
                  It was the day after I had become ill that I saw my wife succumb to the same illness.  When I first saw the rash on her back, I walked into the bathroom and cried my eyes out.  The disease at that point was all over the country.  I thought we could avoid it if we secluded ourselves at the ranger station in the woods.
                  I was wrong.  It infected me and she refused to leave.
                  A month ago, I had held my wife's hand as she fought against cancer. Those tears and long nights seemed to be worth every minute when the doctor told us that it had gone into remission.  I had never felt so happy as we held each other in tears of joy.  It seemed we had managed through better or worse.   Things became much worse.  A month after her remission, we were in the middle of the woods trying to fight another disease.  It all seemed