Family Secret by Adrian Vladimir | Part 2 | Read It For Free Today

In a world ravaged by a deadly supervirus, survival relies upon one thing: isolation. For the Walsh family, quarantine isn't just a precaution – it's a way of life. Trapped within the confines of their home, they grapple with the mental toll of isolation while navigating the ever-present threat of infection lurking beyond their walls.

But as the weeks blur into months, temptation beckons. Forbidden freedoms whisper promises of normalcy as the strain on their family grows heavier. Amidst the chaos, a secret lurks within the heart of the Walsh family – a secret that could unravel everything they hold dear. Will they succumb to the irresistible call of freedom and discover what awaits beyond their quarantine walls? Can they survive?

In Family Secret, a gripping science fiction short story, author Adrian Vladimir delves into what we'll go through to protect our loved ones.

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FAMILY SECRET

Copyright 2024 by Adrian Vladimir

This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system of any kind, without prior written permission of the author.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I'd like to thank my wife, Jordana, who never complains no matter how many times she has to go over a manuscript with her savage red pen.

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TWO​

Laughter bubbled up as John hurried through the forest, and beside him, Janice started to giggle. The children trailblazed, darting among the greenery and easy to spot. Fiery rocket ships and bright suns were splattered across Billy’s blue Astro Al backpack, and Becca’s pink and yellow Pawsome Pals pack was even more colorful. His and Janice’s packs were muted, by comparison, woven earth tones designed to appeal to boring, sensible adults.

“Mom! Dad! Look!” Billy shouted, the mask on his face moving with his lips. The boy pointed up at a flat, white mushroom blooming from the side of a tree, sticking out like a giant tongue. A bright red cardinal perched on top, peering down at them curiously. It chortled out a song before leaping into the air, zooming over their heads, then vanishing into the canopy.

“I heard its wings flapping,” Becca said.

“Super cool!” Billy said.

The kids were awed by this simple interaction, which likely would’ve gone unnoticed before … everything. John and Janice smiled at each other, united by their children’s wonder. It felt like sunshine.

“I see a flower,” Becca said, bounding off, boots kicking up leaves, Billy rushing to keep up.

“Kids?” John called. They both stopped and looked at him. He reached up, shoved the mask off his mouth and nose, and put it in his pocket. “No one’s around. You can take them off, but put them in your pockets, just in case.”

“YAY!” they cried.

They followed the meandering course of the river, a brown thing with a steady current churning toward the Atlantic. The family was alone in the forest. It felt free and tribal, and John couldn’t help but smile. They’d been plodding along from one moment to the next for so long, but now something was happening, the simple movement from within to without. He felt rebellious, and rebellion felt good. At last, he was in control of something, even if it was just an illegal family walk in the local forest.

The kids inspected the intricate weaves of a fallen tree’s root structure, baby-soft patches of green ferns, and bugs and worms scurrying from the light when Becca overturned wedges of bark or fallen branches. Birds! So many birds flitted through the trees. Cool river air wafted across their faces, the earthy moisture of water and soil intertwining and smelling like life.

For a while, they forgot.

“I found the trail, Dad,” Becca said.

“Stop!” John called. A bit too harshly? Probably, judging from the way Becca stiffened. He moderated his voice. “Sorry, sweetheart. It’s no big deal, but it’s important to be–”

“Cautious,” the children piped in unison.

“Very good. Cautious.” Janice nodded.

“Wait here,” John said.

He stepped onto the trail and peered both ways, studying it. Knee-high grass and low, wiry bushes covered much of it now, and the old wheel ruts that had originally cut the trail decades had almost completely succumbed to new growth. With no one to jog, hike, or walk their dogs and keep the trail trampled flat, the forest wasted no time stealing the trail back from humanity. The grass and bushes looked undisturbed. No one had come this way in a long time.

John strode along the trail for a hundred yards or so just to be cautious, the grass swishing against his legs as he looked for signs of other people. Then he turned back and passed his family, going the other way. He didn’t see anybody, and soon, the family was striding along behind him.

“There it is,” John said, pointing to the clearing ahead.

“I see it!” Billy said.

“Can we go?” Becca asked.

John couldn’t resist the pleading in his daughter’s voice, and he ruffled her hair affectionately and said, “Sure. But be–”

“Cautious. We know, Dad.”

The kids sped ahead, Billy struggling to keep up with his sister. Husband and wife held hands, smiling a little goofily at each other, peering around the forest, content to be out.

The clearing overlooked a shady bend in the river; the ground was softened by a hundred years of amber pine needles. A mother duck led her puffy yellow ducklings away from the shore, quacking in alarm at their rude intrusion, her babies paddling to keep up.

“Daddy! Baby ducks!” Billy jumped up and down. The glee on his face was pure.

“This is how it’s supposed to be,” Janice said.

They unshouldered their backpacks and set up the picnic in short order, spreading the odds and ends of their rations out on a thin pink blanket: smoked oysters in golden oil, eaten right out of the can with toothpicks, stale crackers, a hunk of hard cheese with a little bit of mold, and mixed fruit in an expired can. The kids didn’t like oysters, but they’d learned to eat without complaint because it was better than going hungry.

Afterward, the family lay on the blanket and peered up the long trunks of ancient pine trees. The trees had a telescopic effect, gently inviting their gazes to slip upward into the liquid blue sky. John took a deep breath, tasting the air, really tasting it, relishing the simple pleasure of not being locked up. There was life and freedom among the quiet, seductive pines.

This is what it was like to get away from the lockdown, from the empty streets and inane conversations with his masked neighbor shouted from a distance, on the rare occasions they even interacted. Away from friends and family growing more disconnected with every passing day.

What was there to share that wasn’t bad news? Another so-and-so dead. Another job lost. Another family turned homeless so another banker could maintain some elitist’s portfolio. Gravity had been deleted, and now each family sailed alone into the black, like planets flung from a common center. Their time was coming, too; their savings and retirement were nearly spent on paying the mortgage.

John refused to fixate on it right then. For the first time in months, he felt his body relaxing, his psyche softening into the earth below his body. He took another deep breath, and his hand found Janice’s hand.

They let the kids roam unmasked–what a treat! The children explored the clearing and the riverbank, inspecting mushrooms and flowers, turning over rotten logs and rocks to see what squirmed beneath: worms, small black beetles, and once, a legion of black ants carrying the tiny white sacs of their eggs. The ants swarmed mindlessly at the intrusion of light, and Becca felt bad and covered them back up.

Drawn by the wonders of the woods, Becca and Billy ranged farther away.

“Not too far,” Janice called. “Be–”

“Cautious!” the kids sang in unison.

“Jeez, Mom. We know already,” Becca just had to add.

“Seven going on seventeen,” John muttered.

“At least they’re the right age for … all of this.”

“There’s a right age?”

“You know what I mean. At least Becca and Billy have each other. I feel bad for the Shapiros. I talked to Susan the other night for the first time in months. Charlie is fourteen now, and he’s having a hard time. He’s an only child—the Shapiros couldn’t have more—so with the virus, he’s cooped up with his parents. At fourteen. He should be running around with his friends, riding his bike, going to summer camp, doing whatever boys do at his age.”

“You don’t want to know what boys do at his age.”

“Oh? Do we have something to hide?” Janice poked him playfully in the side, where his love handles used to be, tickling him. “Are you keeping secrets?”

“Hey! Stop,” John chuckled. “It’s not that, just … I don’t know. When I was fourteen, I was girl-crazy. I could fall in love with a girl just by looking at her. I’d come up with all sorts of crazy things in my head: how we’d meet, what I’d say, what it would be like to hold her hand, touch her. You know?”

“What did you think when you went to bed at night? In the dark?” Janice purred.

She snuggled closer and put a hand on his thigh. Warmth spread through his middle, and suddenly, his business was interested in expanding to other territories after a long recession; neither had been interested in buying or selling. Janice leaned in, her lips–her plump, kissable lips–moving toward his.

“This was a good idea,” John said. “Our secret.”

“DADDY!”

The terror in Becca’s voice was like a gunshot. The parents whipped their heads toward the sound, instinct yanking them to their feet.

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