It is Just a Virus

Chapter six

I was shaking. More than two hours have passed since the fall, but I was constantly carried to the sides. The nose was terribly sick, as well as the head. Dion and the company still sat in a cafe and ordered something periodically. During this time, we no longer intersect. Eric took almost all my tables, and was extremely happy about it. All the tips will go to him today. I, too, rejoiced at his presence, as health did not allow me now to run after all the orders. 

People gradually began to disperse. And Dion's company as well. They called Eric and asked for the bill. All the tables I served have already gone. I stood at the bar watching Dion's company. He looked at me, said something to the girl, and walked in my direction. He comes to me? Dion stopped in front of me. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at me attentively, as if unraveling some mystery in me. "How do you feel?"

"Sucks. I'll hand the shift over to Eric and go home."

"Need help?"

"What help?"

"Do you need help to get home?"

"I do not understand what do you care?"I almost screamed. What does he want from me?

"Do you always answer a question with a question? Do you need it or not?" his voice broke slightly, Dion's patience was clearly running out.

"I need it. Maybe."

"I'll wait in the car on the street. How long to wait for you?"

"Half an hour."

"Ok."

What does all of this mean? What does he want from me? All this is very strange. But I really need help!

In his company, everyone put on masks, and left the cafe.

Twenty minutes later I was free. Saying goodbye to co-workers, I put on an oxygen mask and went out into the street. The grayness of the city crashed into me, passed through my clothes and thoughts, filling me with fatigue and negativity. After the bright colors of the bar's interior, the dullness of the streets is depressing. The streets littered with rubbish and sewage does not dispose to contemplation. I looked around for Dion, although I didn't really hope for his presence. Maybe he has such jokes, or rushed urgently, running away from the police. But after a couple of seconds the look stopped on the already recognizable figure, ten paces from me. I staggered towards him. The the desire to refuse help vanished. I was swept from side to side, and the jackhammer did not stop working in my head. Dion noticed this and ran up to me. "You look really bad."

I already wanted to answer sarcastically, but my eyes darkened.

My room. Light is on at minimum. The head buzzes so much that it seems, it will burst from minute to minute.   

"You woke up"

I turned to the voice. The guy was sitting on Patricia's bed. Apparently reading on my face a flurry of maturing questions, Dion moved from my friend's bed to the edge of mine. 

"You fainted. I found your documents and keys in your pockets. I brought you to the address indicated in the documents," he paused waiting for my reaction, but when it did not follow, he continued,"I called the doctor a minute ago. He must already come. And do not worry, I did not steal anything. Honestly."

"Why?" this question was in the head all evening. Why did you take me to the concert? Why did you come to the cafe? Why are you helping me? Why are you so caring? 

"What exactly?"

In the light of the night lamp, his eyes looked mysterious. A million secrets and secrets were hidden in them. His hair was even blacker than before, as if he had just dipped them into the night. The scar on the bridge of his nose betrayed him with a stern look. I wonder how he got it?

"Why are you here?" of all the "why", this worried more than others.

The silence hung over us. He was sitting close to my thigh. The heat from his body was passed on to me, sparking something in me. He looked at me, looking at every line of my face. What is he thinking about? Suddenly he got out of bed and moved back to Pattie's bed.

"What happened to your friend? You said that she felt sick."

"She embedded some kind of pirate program into her chip. There was an attack, and she did not wake up. The doctor told me he would report her whereabouts, but there is still no news."

I grimaced at the strong pulsating pain in my forehead. I started to feel nauseous. Dion grimaced as if his head was hurting.

"I do not want to tell you this now, but most likely we will not be crossed anymore," he paused for a moment, glancing from me to the window, "your friend will not return."

"What? Why? How do you know? She died?" my throat was dry, my tongue barely turned. Heart beat as if running a hundred meters at a time. She is not dead! I do not believe!

"Almost died," his voice was barely audible and his eyes fixed on the door.

A knock was heard in the room. Dion jumped out of bed and opened the door. The doctor arrived. This time he was without nurses. The doctor entered the room and took off the mask, sat down on the edge of my bed. He examined my eyes, examined my face and listened to my heart. "What hurts?"

"I have a bad headache and started to feel nauseous."

"Get ready. We go to the hospital for a full examination. But I suspect a concussion."

Great, damn! I got up and sat down on the bed, color spots appeared in my eyes. I looked around the room, but Dion had already left. Disappeared. The doctor helped me to get up and put on the mask. Holding me by the arm, the doctor took me to an ambulance.