The Stranger

There was a stranger in Garrett’s kitchen.

It was uncanny, the way the stranger looked and acted almost exactly like Jenna, and yet Garrett knew, deep in his bones, that the woman in his kitchen was not his wife. No, not at all. This woman, smiling at him over a plate of scrambled eggs and crisped bacon, was someone else entirely, someone who terrified him in ways he couldn’t explain.

The woman certainly looked like she was making herself at home. She had Jenna’s raven hair swept in a slightly messy chignon, her neck adorned with Jenna’s favorite scarf - a distinctive shade of Robin egg blue - and she smiled at Garrett with straightened teeth from years of expensive dental work. She had on a simple flowy white dress that Garrett remembered complimenting his wife on at one point. Despite the neat exterior Garrett could sense the woman was tense. A single drop of sweat was visible on her otherwise perfectly made up forehead.

“What’s the matter, Garrett?” The woman who looked like his wife asked liltingly. A tad too cheerful, like she was hiding something. “Not hungry?”

The news was droning on in the background. Jenna always had the news on while she cooked breakfast. How had this woman known to do that?

‘Authorities are advising the public to stay home. It is still unclear how the virus is transmitted but it is encouraged that any persons showing any symptoms suspicious of the disease should be isolated immediately. The first signs are fever, conjunctivitis, increasingly erratic behavior, diaphoresis…’

Garrett watched Jenna wipe a drop of sweat from her eyebrow. She was nervous, he surmised. Were her eyes red? He couldn’t quite tell from this distance. She did look like she had been crying. Or perhaps ill…

His pulse raced. He thought back to last night. Had Jenna been acting strange then? Had his daughter?

A frisson of panic fully unfurled in his chest. Oh God, Emily! Where was his daughter? Today was Saturday, she should be home. Shouldn’t she be awake by now?

“Emily?” Garrett called, his voice breaking, his eyes never leaving the woman in his kitchen pretending to be his wife.

“Dad? Mom?” Emily's voice from the top of the stairs sounded hesitant, scared.

“In here, sweetie.” Jenna called back before Garrett could open his mouth. Her voice unnaturally high. “Why don’t you stay up there, Ems, and I’ll bring up your breakfast? A special treat just for today.”

As Jenna’s eyes flicked over at Garrett nervously, he knew he did not have time. It was a matter of minutes wasn’t it? What they warned about on the news. Things could go from bad to worse very very quickly. Garrett had to move fast. He took a quick glance out their bay window. The neighborhood was eerily quiet. Would anybody come if he called for help? Would anybody hear their screams?

The news droned on:

Infected persons can become extremely violent quickly. They will exhibit signs of psychosis, paranoia, and increased strength… Emergency services are limited…

“Mom, is Dad..?” Emma sounded close to tears.

It was at this moment that Jenna’s expression slipped. She was terrified, feral, like a caged animal desperate to strike. Garrett noticed for the first time that she had been holding a butcher’s knife in her right hand. She was ready to use it.

Garrett had to do something. Now. His wife was not herself. She had succumbed to the virus. She was a danger to herself, to their precious daughter. He reached for the first heavy object he could find. With strength and speed he didn’t know he had, he charged at the woman with a ferocity that was fueled by fear for his life and love for his daughter.

It was over surprisingly quick, with Garrett barely aware of what was happening, his actions purely instinctive. The sounds and smells were muted for a few minutes, like a fever dream, and Garrett felt a huge surge of relief when he knew he had done what he needed to do. Emily’s screams from the top of the stairs just barely got him out of his trance.

“It’s okay, Ems!” He called out, trying to keep his voice steady, he had to remain calm for his daughter. “It will be okay now, you’re safe. I just have to clean up for a bit here but then we can have breakfast, okay?”

Emily was not listening. She had run back to her room and Garrett thought he heard the click of her door lock. Through the walls he could hear her sobbing.

Garrett felt a sudden crushing sadness when he realized that Emily was probably infected too. He shook his head, his relief from a few moments ago dissipating. Of course his daughter was already infected. He was foolish to think he could save her…the virus spread too fast, didn’t it? That was what the news kept saying. Come to think of it, his daughter had been acting strange all morning, like a stranger, not his daughter at all.

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