The Last Day by John Ramsey Miller

Barney's death. Maybe if he'd had it then, he could have brought his son back. Its presence was a perfect example of closing thebarn door after the horses were running free in the meadow.
    Ward wiped a tear from his eye. He unplugged his cell phone from the charger, slipped it into his pocket, and took his keys and briefcase before leaving the house. The BMW's big eight-cylinder purred, and as he pressed down on the accelerator, he could hear the tires against the asphalt humming as he gained speed. He tuned in to that sound and tuned everything else out.
    When his cell phone rang a few minutes into the trip, Ward glanced at the name and saw that his uncle was calling.
    “Yes, Unk,” he answered.
    “Ward, where the hell are you?” Mark yelled into the phone. “I've been calling you for an hour.”
    “I overslept. I'm leaving the house. What's up?”
    “We've got big trouble here.”
    “As in?”
    “Computer virus. It's a disaster.”
    “Give me fifteen minutes.”

TWENTY-THREE
    Natasha closed the door to her office and sat heavily in her chair. She picked up the phone with steady hands and called Dr. Edmonds's receptionist to make an appointment on that Friday for a consultation. Normally it would have taken weeks to get in to see the specialist, but with physician's credentials, exceptions were ordinary She hung up the phone and turned to her computer to check her e-mails.
    There was a light rapping on her door and she turned around to see Dr. Walls. “Natasha, could I have a word?”
    “Sure, George,” she said with a smile. “Come in.”
    “I want to discuss your tremors.”
    “I just made an appointment with Dr. Edmonds. It really isn't a big deal. In fact it's getting better, but I wanted to be sure.”
    “I've spoken with the partners, and we agree that you should let us cover your surgeries until you've seen Dr. Edmonds. Before you protest, let me say that we know you are under a lot ofpressure, and we're sure you'll be good as new in short order. I hope you don't see this as meddling, but I think you'll agree that there's a lot at stake here for all of us. You are an exceptional physician, and we all care a great deal about you.” He tapped his hands on her desk to punctuate his last point, and to give it finality.
    “I understand fully,” she heard herself saying, “and I appreciate your concern.” She felt assailed professionally, but she knew she had no business operating in her present condition. She wanted to know what was wrong with her.
    “We'll just take the precaution and cover your surgeries until then,” George said, smiling. “And if you'd like to take a few days, we will gladly cover your other appointments.”
    “Of course,” she said. “And thank you. But covering my nonsurgical appointments won't be necessary.”
    “If your hands were to shake while you were seeing a patient…” He paused. “Well, word might get around. I think it is for the best. Just get some well- deserved rest and don't worry about anything.”
    George left the room and Natasha felt embarrassedand even, to some degree, grateful. She looked at her hands and they began to tremble ever so slightly.
    Opening her laptop, she went into her e-mail and ran down the list of waiting correspondence. One was from Ward, titled “You have to see this.” She clicked on it and sat stunned as the screen began filling with a changing montage of horrible images she couldn't believe she was seeing.
    “Oh, my dear god,” she said. Her heart pounded and she slammed her eyes closed, fighting to control her breathing. “My god. He's completely lost his mind.”

TWENTY-FOUR
    Ward rushed into the RGI building. As he passed by the receptionist, he saw that her phone lines were all lit up, and he could hear a loud angry voice leaking from her headset.
    “Mr. McCarty” she said, covering the mouthpiece. “Mr. Wilson is waiting for you up in the conference room.”
    Ward took the steps three at a time, rushed to the