RedDeathD.L.Robinson

Copyright2015byD.L.Robinsonwww.severedpress.com

DedicationThisbookisforMomand

DeeDee,whowerealwaysprepared.

AcknowledgementsThankyoutoGaryandSeveredPress,thankyoufaithfulreaderSandy,andspecialthankstoEllen

Zachosforhergreatbookonforaging.SpecialthankstomynursefriendsJoanneandShana,fortheirexpertise.Andasalways,thankyou

JamesandDB.

PrologueTara’sDiaryDec10th,2015I am starting this diary

because I want to leavesomethingbehindifwedon’tmake it, if the whole humanrace is wiped out. I honestlythinkthat’spossiblenow.The

everyday, business-as-usualhorror of this newworld hasmade me long for normalcy,forhowitusedtobe.Maybeit’s just a little bit of vanityon my part, but I have thisterrible urge to yell, “Iexisted! I lived here, Imattered!” But the truth is Iprobably don’t matter. Or ifI’m long dead when somearcheologist uncovers this,maybe I should say I didn’t

matter.Thedayspasssoquickly

now. I’m so tired, maybethat’s why. I guess themodernwomanjustisn’tusedto physical labor any longer.Well,atleastI’mnot.Backinthe day, when my husbandand I were really young andpoor,Ididalotmore.Ihadtohang wet clothes out to drywhen the washer broke, andchaseaftera twoyearoldall

day. That’s the last time Iremember this kind oftiredness.Myheadusedtohitthe pillow and I was out.Didn’t know anything untilthenextdaywhenIhadtogetup and do it all over again,butIneverhadtodoanythinglike what I’m doing now.Finding firewood, sneakingouttotheriverforwater;it’shard.

I can hear my husband

Lee rooting around in thebasement, trying to get theoldantiquepot-belliedstoveofmygreatunclehookedupandventedoutawindow.It’sbeen down there for ages. Ionly took it after my folksdied, when no one elsewanted it. For nostalgia’ssake, I guess. I’ve alwaysbeen the family hoarder—Iwas the one with the bighouse, the walk-up attic, the

basement with eight footceilings—so I stored all thestuffnooneelseinthefamilywanted.And thatoldstove, Ihave to shake my head overthat one. I rememberwhen Iwasakidmymomwanteditafter my great-uncle died.This was during Mom’s“Early American” furniturephase—and she had to havethe stove set up in the livingroom, exhaust pipe and all,

“vented” out the wall aboveit. Fake of course, but it hadto look real to achieve theeffect she was going for. Iwasn’t even a teen yet, but Iremember my fascinationwith that old pot-belliedstove, the idea that myrelative actually used it forcooking and heating back intheday. It turnsout Ineededit after all, and I’m using itjust the way my great-uncle

did in the1800s. In fact, thatold stove is a huge blessingvery few have access to inthis modern age. Never in amillion years did I think Iwould ever use it. There arelots of things now I neverthoughtI’ddo.

I guess I had better goback to thebeginning,beforethe greedy airlines wouldn’tstop the flights, before ourmodern complacency and

utter denial finished the job.Theycallitthereddeath,likethe old Edgar Allen Poestory. We just call theinfectedones,Reds.Redeyesglaringatthosewhoarewell,red sores oozing crimson,dark red arterial bloodgushing from every openingontheirbodiesattheend.It’sas close to zombies as theworld will ever know. Insome ways, I think it is

worse.Ebola. A funny name. I

wishI’dneverheardit.

Chapter1March10,2015TaraGreenturnedonthe

newsintheTVroomupstairsandcrankeditup,planningtolisten as she got ready. Sheand her husband didn’t usethat room much anymore.Sometimes inwinterwhen itwas chilly downstairs, they

would bring up their laptopsand sit there in the cozinessofthesmallspace.Itwasjustbig enough for two easychairs, her old sewingmachineagainstonewallanda TV against the other. Twotall bookcases filled the onlyempty places in between.Those were full of books onvarious hobbies Tara hadgrown interested in over theyears. Everything from

antiques to knitting wasrepresented, along with a lotof Stephen King, Tara’sguiltypleasure.

Shehadslept in thatdayas usual, but had someerrands to run and bills topay. Theweather had finallyturned warmer, a little earlyfor March. Nevertheless, itwas a nice change. As whatshe needed to do scrolledthrough her head, Tara

jumped in the shower.Afterward, she dried herselfoff, and as shewas applyingmoisturizer and trying not tonotice the lines around hereyes, Tara heard the TVnewscaster in the other roomtalking about DoctorsWithout Borders. They werea missionary group thatvolunteered and staffedclinics around the world,helping poor and thirdworld

countries receive goodmedical care. As she rubbedthe cream onto her skin, shewalkedoutofthebathroomtoglanceinattheTV.

“We’re trying to controlthe outbreak, but the burialpractices of villagers areperpetuating the disease.Thefamilies of the deceased gothrough a ritual washing oftheir loved one’s bodies, andEbolaspreadsmostlythrough

bodilyfluids.”Thehandsomeyoungdoctorappearedgrave.

“So how can you getthem to stop washing thebodies?” asked the reporter.Thedoctorsighed.“Wecan’t,so it is spreading, oftenkilling within days ofshowingsymptoms.Withthisstrain, Ebola Zaire, up to a90%deathrate, it’s tragic.Infact, rumors among thepeople here are that

westernersbringthevirus,sotheyavoidus.Theyrunawaywhenwe approach, and hidetheir sick relatives from us.It’sanightmare.”

Unreal. Those poorpeople. Tara finishedapplying the moisturizer andwalked back into thebathroom.ShehadreadaboutEbola years before. It wasoneofthebadones.Afterthefirst case in 1976, scientists

believed itoriginated inbats.The initial victim had gonehikinginacavewithalotofbat guano, and that was theonly connection they couldmake. Ebola promptlydisappeared after that firstoutbreak.Asanewerdisease,very little was known, evennow. One fact was thatamong Africans who ate“bush meat”— bats,monkeys, rodents—every so

oftenapersonwoulddevelopfever,muscleaches,headacheand sore throat. This wassoon followed by profusevomiting and diarrhea. Veryfew survived, and whenhemorrhagic symptomsbegan, bleeding from theeyes,nose,andotherorifices,it was usually too late. Thevirus actually dissolved yourinternalorgans.

Tara listened to the

young doctor on TV for amoment longer, and thenwentbacktoherroutine.Shefinished her makeup andwashed her hands, running aquickcomb throughherhair.But she couldn’t shake thedoctor’s words— it wasspreading fast and killing90% of people, and whenbleeding started, it was toolate. I imagine it’s prettyhard to recover from

projectile vomiting up yourliquefied internal organs.Whatanawfulwaytodie.

Tara felt sorry for them,but it was all so far away inAfrica,itwasn’treal.Shehadtoomanyother thingsonhermind. And that was the firstwarning.

~The virus had no

conscience,nomorals,andnocompassion. It was a model

of efficiency, built tooverwhelmthisnewsourceofprocreation. Its only purposewas to survive,multiply, andwin. The extinction of thehost was not even ofconsequence. In the finaldeath throes, so much viruswas expelled in vomit, fecesand sweat, the odds ofcontinuing its life cycle in anew host were virtuallyguaranteed. The bodies were

sohighlyinfectious,theyhadto be handled in fullbiohazardsuitsandburned.

And so it multiplied,took hold, ravaged andtravelled. Person to person,surface to hand, hand to eyeormouth—onemicrononthearmrest of a flight fromAfrica;onesneezecirculatinginfected droplets in theenclosed cabin of the planeand 100 more victims fell

within 8-21 days. Thosevictims infected their ownquotabefore theydied,manytimesevenafterward.

Ebola was a brilliant,invisiblekillingmachine.

~August26,2015A strange noise came

from somewhere outside thehouseand itdrewTaraawayfromherlaptoptoinvestigate.

The new novel she hadstarted kept her so engrossedshehadignoredthesoundsatfirst. She crossed her old-fashioned kitchen and leanedacrossthesink,openingaslatonthewoodenblindsoverthebigwindow.Theviewwasofher neighbor’s house just 20feet across her drive. Theneighbor’s back breezewayopened just at the passengersideofacar.Anoldpieceof

particleboard blocked thelower half of the opening,preventing their tiny dog’sescape.

Tara and her husbandLee had lived in their early1900s house for nearlytwenty years, and theirneighbors were only thesecondfamilybesidetheminall that time. They wereyoungerthanTaraandLeebyten years, pleasant enough

and not too rowdy. Thiswasfar more important to theGreen’s than anything else,the older they got. Althoughthe neighbors weren’t whatyou’d call friends, both Taraand her husband had sharedmany conversations over abag of groceries on the wayinto their house. Frank andMarla were good neighborstoo, offering extra chairs atTara’s occasional fire pit

gatherings,ortheuseoftheirrototiller for Lee’s smallgarden patch each spring.Tara sometimes delivered aplate of cookies to theirbackdooratChristmas.

Tara peered curiouslythroughtheblindsandcaughtmovement on their patio. Itwas the neighbor woman,Marla.ShewasyellingatherhusbandFrank.

“Youbastard! I toldyou

Iwassick,”shescreeched.Ahuge crash followed, andTara saw a green plasticporch chair fly past. Then acar door slammed on theother side of their housewhere the driveway sat,followed by the sound ofsquealingtiresonconcrete.

Now that’s weird. Theynever fight, let alone screamateachother!

Tara narrowed her dark

eyes as she watched Marlastagger past on the patio.Alarmed now, she thought itmightbetheneighborlythingtodotostickherheadoutandsee if thewomanneededanyhelp.

Tara opened her backdoor and crossed her tinyporch in three steps. It waswalledoffonMarla’sside,sowithonearmwrappedaroundthe end post, she leaned out

pastthewall.“Marla, are you okay?”

shecalled.The sound of scuffling

greeted her ears—thenMarla’s white face appearedabove the particleboard, butsomething was wrong withher. Her usual placidexpression was gone,replaced by twisted frenzy.Her eyes were bright red,bloodylookingalmost.

“I’msick.”Marlarasped.“Caught something inTexas.”

Taraknew theneighborshad been visiting relatives inDallas a week or so before.Marla had asked her to keepan eye on their place whiletheyweregone.

“Ohno.IsthereanythingIcando?”

“No, thanks, goin’ tobed.”

“Marla, did you hurtyour eyes? They’re reallyred.”

Marla shrugged andwiped at one. A smear ofbloodcameawayonthebackof her hand. She stared at it,dumbfounded.

Oh, my God! Blood inhereyes?Tara’smindpushedaway this evidence, notacceptingit,butTarafeltsheshould do something. “Are

you sure you’re okay? DidFrankjustleave?”

Marlanodded.“He’ssicktoo. But he’s goin’ after flumedicineforus,”sheslurred.

Tara backed upinstinctively as the illneighbor woman leaned outherway.

Ugh. Whatever it is, Idon’twanttocatchit.“Okay,well, I hope you feel bettersoon.”

Marla nodded andshuffled toward her backdoor, disappearing fromview. Tara heard her gag,and then a splatter of whatsounded like vomit hittingtheircementpatiofloor.

Eww. Nothing she coulddoandshesuredidn’twanttoget some weird Texas flubug.

Tara pulled herself backonto her porch. She pushed

backherlongbrownhairandclosed the door behind her.GoodGod.She’dalwayshadto be a bit of a germaphobeanywayduetoachroniccaseofCrohn’sdisease.Sinceherimmune system was keptsomewhat suppressed by themeds to treat this, Tara wasparticularlymindfulofillnessaround her. She had to be.She’d learned to wash herhands a lot, and to be aware

ofanythingshetouched.Thiscaution came after years ofconstant illness and catchingevery seasonal cold and fluvirus that cropped up. Tarafinally realized that shoppingcarts, doorknobs, gas stationpumps— all those innocent-seeming, everyday surfaceswere teemingwith germs forher. It was a hard lesson,learned young, but welllearned nonetheless. These

dayssherarelygotsick.Back inside, Tara heard

the sound of her neighborFrank’s car returning. Notlongafter that,whilesheandLee sat together in front ofthe TV, the siren of anambulance somewherenearby intruded. Tara didn’tputtwoandtwotogetheruntilshe heard a local newscasteron the radio the next daywhile grocery shopping. An

areawomanandherhusbandhadbeentakentothehospitalwith a mysterious illness.They were in criticalcondition—inquarantine.

Tara’s hand flew to hermouth. She stopped herselfjust before touching her lips,glancing down at the carthandle squeamishly. Shemadeherwaytothecleaningaisle and picked up twocontainers of alcohol wipes.

Looking around, she poppedthe cylinder open and tookone out, wiping first herhands, then the cart handle.Shedroppedtheusedwipeinthe basket and set thecontainer back in as well.Silly maybe, but you justneverknew.

Tara suddenlyremembered the newssaturated with a first case ofEbola in America the month

before. She hadn’t paid a lotof attention, just enough toexperience a cringe-worthymoment over the diseasespreading to theUSA.Tara’sbook had been due at thetime, and pushing up againstthe deadline was all thatconsumed her thoughts.Come to think of it, wasn’tthatcaseinDallas?

~Colt Stevens ran

headlongontotheplaygroundat noon recess. He and hisfriends were going to play agameoftag.Hekeptoneeyeon Tasha Moore, hoping togetheronhisteam.Itwasherbirthday, and he was excitedbecause she had broughtcupcakes to share with theclasslater.

Colt was a rough andtumble littleboyandnothingmuch slowed him down.

Even hismother, whowas anurse, despaired of himsometimes.Justthatmorning,he’d been running a slighttemperature and she wantedto keep him home, but Coltwouldn’t hear of it. He’dmissed too much schoolalreadywhiletheywereawayin Dallas visiting his mom’sfamilywithAuntMarla.

Colt grabbed Tasha’shand and pulled her over to

hisside.Shesmiledandstoodbeside him as he explainedthe rules to the others. Thewind kicked up and blew aspeckofdustintohereyeandsherubbedit.

She andColt played andran, tagging others, grabbingat their hands and arms.Later, when they all wentback inside, they took turnssharingthepieceofchalkandwriting on the blackboard.

Colt was the teacher’sfavoriteaswellasTasha’s,soafterward,theteacherallowedhimtohandouteachcupcaketo the class in honor ofTasha’sbirthday.

Itwas almost the end ofthe day when Colt suddenlythrew up beside his desk. Itwas gross according topopular opinion, and Coltwent down to the principal’soffice. The janitor came to

clean it all up. The teachercalledeveryonetothefrontofthe classroom to distract thekidswhilehedidtoavoidanysympathy puking. Soon, thebell rang and it was time togo home. None of themwashedtheirhands.

~Tara watched the

neighbor’s house next doorand waited, even calling thehospital several times to ask

about them. At first, theadmissions desk refused togiveheranyinformation,andlater, they denied Marla andFrank were ever even there.This made Tara uneasy, butwith the new HIPAA laws,she understood they couldn’ttell her anything. So shebrushedoffthebadfeelinginhergut.

Summerwasalmostoverand the endof seasonchores

waited. Tara worked in thegarden out back for severaldays,clearingthespentplantsandharvestingsometomatoesand peppers. She kept oneeye on the neighbor’s patio,hopingsomeone,maybeevenMarlaorFrankwouldfinallyarrive.

The rest of Tara’s timewas focused on editing andturning her book in to herpublishing company. Each

timeshecrossedbetweenherback porch and the openbreezeway of Marla’s house,it yawned emptily at her.NoonecameandTara’sconcernincreased with each passingday.

Where’s their little dog?Did someone come get it?ThisworriedTaraasmuchasMarla and Frank’s currentconditions, but she could nothear the dog barking, so she

hoped their friends or familyhad picked it up. She didn’twant to have to break awindowtogettheanimalout,but decided shewould if shehad to. The days ticked bywith no word, and Tara’suneasinessgrew.

Chapter2Tarawoketothenoiseof

vacuums coming fromsomewhere. Now that thehouse beside them wasempty,shefeltfairlyisolated.The home on the oppositeside stood beside a churchand served as the parsonage.It was empty too. Thepreacher had moved on to a

new church eight monthsbefore, and his positionhadn’t yet been filled. Soboth neighbor’s houses werevacantnow.Forsomereason,Tara kept having a recurringthought—no one on eithersidetorunto.

Lee had left for workearly, so shewas there aloneall day as usual. Since Tarastayedupuntil theearlya.m.writing, Lee didn’t usually

wake her up before he left.Today, she had no pressingerrands to run, so she hopedtocatchuponhernewbook.As she washed her face andprepared for the day, thenoise that woke her dronedon.

Curious now, she madeher way downstairs to lookout the kitchen windowtoward Marla’s house. Shesaw a flash of white go past

on the patio. A figure in ahazmat-suit came into view.Oh, my God, they’redecontaminatingthehouse!Astab of fear went straight toherheart.

It had been over aweeksince she’d seen Marla sickon her back porch. She’dgiven up on the hospital.They simply would not giveTara any info when shecalled. The local news had

notmentioneditagaineither.She grabbed her cell in apanic, texting Lee at work,butheusuallyonlyansweredonhislunchhour.Shelookedat her watch. It was only11:45. He wasn’t on breakyet. The noise continuedunabated.

Tarawalked to the frontdoor to get the mail, tryingnot to panic. It wasSeptember 1st and still nice

out, although the eveningswere cooler now. She hadhopedtosurpriseLeetonightwith a fire out back in thechiminea and maybe acookout, taking fulladvantage of the last ofIndiansummer.Butnow,shebegan to think in terms ofexposure to whatever germwas over at the neighbor’shouse.Toolate,Iworkedoutthere in the garden allweek.

All of a sudden, Tara felt asthoughshecouldn’tbreathe.

Distracted by herthoughts,shereachedintothemailbox. She noticed thewomanwholivedacrosstheirbusystreetgatheringhermailas well. Tara knew her asMary, a widowwith a smallnotary business in her home,theincomesupplementinghersocial security. She and Leehadusedheroncewhen they

sold their old car, but Taradidn’t even know her lastname. The street they livedon wasn’t real conducive tomaking friends, since it washeavilytrafficked.

Although she and Leeusually kept to themselves,today was an exception.Frightened by the hazmatsuits next door, she neededsome reassurance, maybeeven some human

companionship.“Hey,Mary!”Taracalled

toher.The older woman heard,

gave a wave and walkeddown her front steps to thecurb. Tara did the same astraffic flew by on the streetbetweenthem.

“Have you heardanything about Marla andFrank?” Tara yelled again,motioning back toward their

house.AsemirolledpastandMary cupped one handaround her ear, notunderstanding. She lookedboth ways, waiting for thetraffictothinandthenjoggedacross as soon as it did, hershortwhitehairblowing.Shewas tall for a woman, tallerthan Tara, wiry almost, butshe had an open, friendlyface. Tara met her on thegrassycurbstrip.

“My God, there arepeople in hazmat suits nextdoor!”Taracried,pointingatthe big dark house next tohers. “Have you heardanything about them? Thehospital won’t give me anyinfo.” She suddenly realizedshe was running her wordstogether in panic, and poorMary couldn’t even get apeep out. But she couldn’thelp herself. When she got

nervous, she talked a bluestreak. “Marla’s eyes werebloody last time I saw her. Ididn’tevenput itall togetheruntil the next day at thegrocery store when I heardsomething on the localnews!”Taraforcedherself toshut up and wait for Mary’sreply.

“My daughter Julie is anurseoveratthehospital.Shefollowed in my footsteps,”

Mary joked. Tara hadforgottenMary was a retirednurse.Shehadonlytalkedtoher once or twice before.Maryloweredhervoice,eventhough the sound of trafficdrowned out any possibilityofbeingoverheard.

“The hospital staff wereall exposed. No one thereknew any better, and therewas no warning. But theytransferred your neighbors

out, up north somewhere.Their tests came backpositiveforEbola.”AtTara’ssharp intake of breath,Marypaused. “I’m really sorry tohave to tell you this, butMarladiedtwodaysago,andFrankdiedtoday.”

“Oh, dear God.” Tarabacked up a little, her longhair blowing across her face.She was partially in shock,and partly afraid of standing

tooclose.Marynoticed.“It’sokay.Ihaven’tseen

my daughter, only talked toheronthephone.Shedoesn’twant to come anywhere nearme. She’s afraid of exposingme.”

“Oh,Mary, how awful,”Tarareplied.

Marynoddedandsighed.“I told her I didn’t care, butshe insisted she was stayingaway for 21 days. All the

nurses on that shift are onleave.” Mary paused for amomentasTarastaredather,speechless.Theolderwomanlooked around at Marla andFrank’s house. “I’m reallyglad they’re decontaminatingthe place though, for yoursake.”

Tara’svisionswamforamoment and she thought shemightpassout.Marysawherstrugglingandcamecloserto

hug her, then stopped. “Iguesswe’dbetternotget tootouchy-feely. If I were you,I’d turn off my AC,especially if it’s on that sideof your house. You don’twant to bring in any outsideairfromaroundtheirhome.”

“Oh, my God, I didn’teven think of that, Mary!”Her breath came in shallowlittle gulps. Fear seized herandan icycoldcertainty that

they were all going to diehorribly took hold. Herthoughtsraced.MyACunitison the other side. Still. Shefelt the color draining fromherfaceasMarywatchedher.

“It’s okay, Tara,supposedly it’shard tocatch.Let’s hope it doesn’t goairborne as most viruses dowhen they mutate. Just useprecautions. And my adviceis—get ready. My daughter

saysthereareanawful lotofconfidentiality forms beingforcedonthem.Forwhateverreason,thepowersthatbedonot want us to know what’sgoingon.Maybesowedon’tpanic. To me that means getready.They know somethingwedon’t.”

“Thank you,” breathedTara, dazed andoverwhelmed. “I’m going toprepare.Stay in touch,Mary,

okay?Yourdaughterisintheloop way more than we are,and I’mgrateful for any infoyoucanpasson.”

Mary nodded and saidgoodbye, crossing back overand disappearing inside hersmallwhite bungalow on thecorner.AsTarastoodthereinshock, still digesting theramificationsofallthis,Maryreappeared at her door. Shestrode outside and grabbed

the smallNotary Public signfromher frontyard, taking itwith her as she disappearedback inside.ThisscaredTaraeven worse. She needs thatmoney. But if Mary wasworried enough to limit herexposuretostrangers…

Tarawalked back to herfront door fast, not evenglancing over at the hazmatoperation. She really didn’twant to know. Back inside,

shefranticallydialedLeeandheansweredonthethirdring,chewing.

“What? I’m eating,” helaughed. Tara told him whathad happened in a hushedvoice,detailingallMarysaid.Leewasquietforamoment.

“Well, two guys whoworksidebysidehereontheproductionlinearehomesicktoday,” Lee told her. Hepaused for a moment, “and

both their wives are nurses.They work together at thehospital.Let’shope this isn’tasbadasitsounds.”

Tara’smindwasonhighalert now, running optionsthrough her head at a speedhitherto unknown to her.Could Lee leave work? Canwemakeitonwhatmoneywehave for a while?Wait, he’sgotamonth’spaidvacation!

“Lee, please, please, put

in for your vacation! Take itnow! That gives us fourweeks to see what happens.We weren’t planning ongoing anywhere on vacationanyway.Imean,sofaryou’reisolated in the R & D labthere,butifitspreads,Idon’twant you around all thosepeople!Fourweeksofusheretogether, staying away fromeveryone— by that time, weshould know if anything bad

isgoingtodevelop.”Lee pooh-poohed her

fears, but she begged him,explaining her bad feeling.Before he got off the phone,he promised Tara he wouldcalltheofficeandscheduleit.Not for Ebola, he laughed,butbecausehewas tired andready for avacation.Since itwas Friday, he’d be off forfour weeks starting latertoday. Tara didn’t care how

muchhemadefunofher,hewas coming home andtogether they could handleanythingthatdeveloped.

Before he hung up, shemadehimpromisetogowashhishandsandstayawayfromeveryone.Lee’sbosswas theonly one who worked in thelab with him, and she was ayoungerwoman livingalone,not much of a high-riskexposurethere.

Taralookedatherwatch,feeling slightly better. Onlyfourmorehours.Sheknewifshe didn’t get out of there,she’d spend the rest of herafternoon staring through theslats at the kitchen window,tryingtoseewhatthehazmatsuits were doing. There wasstill time to get food andsupplies, maybe take somemoney from the bank too.Time to prepare a little. I’d

ratherbereadythannot.Uneasily, Tara opened

thecheckbookandglancedather balance. She knew shehad two thousand dollars insavings. I’m going to buysomeextrastuff,justtobeonthe safe side. I’m not evengonna tell Lee.At least, shewouldn’t tell him yet. If thisreally is the beginning of anoutbreak, money will beuseless. Food andwater will

beallthatmatters.Leemightwanttothrottlemeforit,butI’mbuyingit.

~Tara ran through the

bank and withdrew $1,500.She wanted a thousand tostash at home, and fivehundred to get supplies. Shetickedoffalistinherheadofwhat worst-case scenarioitems they might need. Amajorrevelationstruckheras

she drove to the dollar storeforcheapcannedfood.We’regoingtoneedammunitionforour gun. A gun wassometimestheonlythingthatstood between safety anddanger.

She had owned a littlepurse-size Beretta .25 semi-automatic pistol for years. Itlay beside the bed on thenightstand with a Kleenexdraped over it. Probably

cloggedwithdustbynow.Wesurehaven’tfireditforyears.

Tara turned the cararound and went first to thesmall firearms shop in theirtown.She told theman therewhatkindofgunshehadandhe went in the back to getwhat sheneeded.Sheboughtfifty bucks worth of ammo,and drove back to the dollarstore.

Normally fairly frugal,

she decided she would onlybuycansoffoodtheyusuallyused. No sense in goingberserk and buying out thestore. Plus if a pandemicnevermaterialized,she’dfeelprettydumbwithenough redbeans and rice to feedLouisiana and no money inthebankasasafetynet.

At the dollar store, shepushed the cart slowlythrough the aisles, trying to

imagine what they mightneedinaworst-casesituation.She bought lots of pasta inbags, long dated at least twoyears, and bottled spaghettisauce to go with it. Roundcans of chicken soon nestledamong trapezoidal tins ofcorned beef. Tuna, Chili,soups of all kinds, as longdatedasshecouldfind,beganto stack up. Rice, lots offlour, dried beans, salt, bags

ofsugar,evencookiemixandcansofCriscowereadded tothestash.

Shestillhadsomeofhermom’soldsupplies,inheritedafter her folks passed away,and Tara remembered they’dhad a couple of personalwater filters they’d boughtafter 9/11. They wereguaranteed to purify evenwater fromamudpuddle, soTara felt a littlemore secure

about a water supply withthose. But since they’d lainuntouched all these years onher shelf, they’d needchecking. I better go downandseeifthey’restillgood.

Passingasaleonbleach,she hesitated, and thengrabbedsixjugs,justincase.Thatshoulddoit.She’dreadsomewhere that you coulduse a few drops of bleach topurify water too, as well as

disinfect any surface. AsuddenvisionofherandLeelying dead with their halfempty glasses of “purified”waterinfrontofthemflashedin her head, and she laughedout loud. An old womanpushingacartpastgaveherafunnylook.

Tara nodded and smiled,embarrassed, but her morbidsenseofhumor,coupledwithherlackofevenbasicprepper

knowledge, pushed her fearaway and tickled her funnybone. Sure, maybe theinternet could get her up tospeedonafewthings,butshetruly hoped she would neverhave toknowexactlyhow topurify water. As it was, Leerazzed her enough about herother germaphobic habits.But Tara knew what Leenicknamed her “HowardHughes” phobias kept her

healthy, so they might justhelp with whatever cametheirwaynow.And thatwasthat.

Tara didn’t want toappear any stranger than shehadto,soshedecidedtobuythisbatchofstuff,thenhitupanother area store for paperproducts and whatever elsethey had that was differentfrom what she’d alreadybought. Tara fielded a few

questions from the clerk bysayingshewasrestockingthepantry for the winter, sincetheydidn’tliketodriveinthesnow. The total came toalmost two hundred dollars.She paid in cash, and thenloadeditintoherSUV.

Next, she drove to theother store in town andboughttwocartsfullofpapertowelsandtoiletpaper,alongwithjugsofwaterandquitea

fewmorecans.Tara drove past Marla’s

house on the corner on theway into her rear driveway.There were no vehicles orpeople in suits anywhere. AwaveofsadnessatFrankandMarla’sdeathsandasenseofunreality washed over her.This feels like a bad dream.She looked at her watch andit saw was almost time forLee.ThankGod.

Tarapulled in and sat inher car for a moment,thinkingaboutthebreezethathadblownherhairbackeachof the days she had workedoutside in thegarden.Beforethe hazmat suitsdecontaminated the house,before they’d cleaned up thepuke she’d heard Marlasplatter onto her back patio.Acoldchillranthroughher.Idon’twanttogiveittoLeeif

I’vegotit.Suddenly, she

remembered a dream she’dhadjustbeforethisallstarted.She dreamed “it” waseverywhere.Inthegreatlakesthe fish were bleeding, theanimalsweredying,bleedingfrom every opening. And inthe dream, it was like ajudgment from God, thefeeling she’dhad, like itwasallgoingtocometrue.

Tara had awakened in apool of sweat, gasping at therealism of it. The shock ofrecognition now hit her fullforcealongwiththememory.Bleeding, Ebola. Why did Iforgetthatdream?Becauseitwas too scary? Because itdidn’tmake sense then?Godhelpusall.

Tara’sDiaryDec10th2015

Looking back on the

beginning of it now, Iremember how sorry I wasfor those people in Africa,wayacrosstheworldinsomemuggy, jungle area I knewnothingabout.Buthereinmymiddle-class, white breadAmerican world, it didn’tstick.

The first American casewas an African man who

arrived in Texas and waspromptly diagnosed withEbola. He died and then hisnurses caught it. Thegovernment botched allaspects of the case, hid itfrom the public, allowed onesick nurse to fly on a majorairline potentially infectinghundreds. And still theywould not shut down theairlines, although that’swhatmostpeoplewanted.

Over the next severalweeks, the budding epidemicreared its ugly, infectioushead. First, it was only amentionhereandthereonthenews. The cases keptgrowing, spreading, in everystate, big cities and littletowns.Andthat’saboutwhenmynextdoorneighborsdied.But itwas kept quiet, secret.Notmanyknew.

Afterthat,Iwatchedwith

interesteachstorythatleakedout,andevencheckedinwithsomeoftheconspiracytheorywebsites. There were somereal nutbags on there, buteverysooften,somenormal-sounding American told astory. Like the woman whotook her elderly father intotheERjustacountynorthofour small town.Only to findthemhandingout gloves andmasks to everyone who

entered, telling them a childwas there being quarantinedforEbola.

The concern generatedover that first handful ofAmerican cases increasedpanic and triggered stockmarket declines. Mostlybecause everyone could tellthe few official pressconferences were a clearcontradiction to what wasactuallyhappening.TheCDC

thought we were so stupid,they thought they could spinit and tell us anything, andwe’d buy it. Well, mostpeople did buy it, becausethey didn’t want to bebothered. Theywanted to bein denial. However, thosewho understood theramifications, well, we knewbetter.

Then the internet beganbuzzing with rumors of

people sick across America,of hundreds of thousands ofFEMA coffins lined up inhastily assembled FEMAcamps located around thecountry, empty as of thenbehind their barbed wiredperimeters, but pregnantlyawaiting “something.” Weknew we were on our own.And that’s a bad feeling,when you fear your owngovernment.

I researched a little bit,finding that dehydrationleadingtoshockwasthemaincause of death fromEbola. Ifound the recipe forhomemade Oral RehydrationSolution,thelifesavingliquidused to replenish lost fluidsand possibly keep you alive:one-half teaspoon of salt,one-half teaspoon of bakingsoda,andfourtablespoonsofsugar to one liter of water.

And you must drink fourlitersofthisaday.Tomakeagallon, quadruple the recipe:two teaspoons of salt, twoteaspoonsofbakingsoda,andsixteen tablespoons of sugar.Agallonwas justa little lessthanfourliters,butdrinkingagallon of ORS whilevomiting incessantly wasvery hard to do. Imeasuredout enough for ten gallons,storing it in baggies in the

cupboard,justincase.Not long after that, an

“EbolaCzar”was appointed,and if there had been anydoubt before, his first effortsmade it clear that a mediablackoutwasunderway.Theycouldn’tletthebigred,white,and blue money machinecome screeching to a halt.Theconspiracywebsitesweremonitored, and everyone hadto beware of posting very

much. Certain words orphrases triggered animmediate response and thepostwas taken down.Was itNSA? CIA? CDC? No oneknew. Rumors spread ofmuch worse censoring. Ibecamemoreparanoid.

Still, many went abouttheir daily business blindly.Only a small fraction of usseemed to know what washappening. I was one of

them, and so wasMary.Wecalled across the street toeach other a couple times,andexchangedinformation.

I did some research. IorderedmoresuppliesforLeeand me: a crank weatherradio,N-100masks,acoupleoffullTyveksuitsandhoods,a fire starter. I read of amilitarystudywherecolloidalsilver solution killed Ebolavirus, so I bought a large

bottle. I figured what theheck,mightaswellget itall.I had stocked up on cans offood early on, but not nearlyenough. I still didn’t believeanything would reallyhappen.Itotallysympathizedwiththosewhodidn’tprepare—because I didn’t want tobelieveitcouldhappeneither.

Chapter3Tara was just carrying

the first bags from the dollarstore to the door when Leepulled in. There were somany others in her car, sheasked him to help. So muchfor keeping it a secret.Nevertheless, just seeingLeemade her feel better. Hishandsome face and dark hair

couldstillmakeherheartskipa beat even after all theseyears.Hewalkedbackbehindthe garagewith her towhereherSUVwasparked.

“They’re all gone overthere now,” Tara told him,gesturing toward theneighbor’s house. “I hope toGod they disinfectedeverything. Marla puked onthe patio that day—and Iworkedoutsideallweekwith

thewind blowing it overmyway!”

Lee put his arm aroundher waist reassuringly, andshe pulled away slightly. “Idon’twanttogiveittoyouifI’vegotit.”

Leelaughed.“Iwouldn’tworry about that. I doubt itcatches that easy, and ifyou’vegot it, I’vealsogot itbynow. I’d ratherwegoouttogether,anyway.”

Tara instantly relaxed atLee’s calm acceptance ofthings. It was just his way,and it was the perfectcounter-balance to her usualhigh-strung anxiety. This iswhy I love him so much…Twenty-five years togetherfilled with both ups anddowns, and they’d grownvery close. Time had shownthem that nothing else muchmatteredexcepteachother.

They made three trips,carrying multiple bags eachtime.

Finally, Lee’s usualquietness was tested. “Whatin God’s name did you buy,woman?” he joked. Taracringedinwardly,butdecidedtospillit.Asshesetthebagsdown, she pulled out thebulletsfromthegunstore.

Lee raised one eyebrow.“I guess we’re ready for

anythingnow.”Tara nodded. “I tried to

thinkofeverything,andifwedon’t need it, so be it. Ibought stuff we can useanyway. Other than thebullets, it’s all food wenormally eat, so nothingwillbe wasted.” She paused. “Ialsoorderedsomemasksandstuff too, since I’mconfessing everything. Isplurged for overnight

shipping. I just feel betterhavingitallhere,Lee.”

He nodded, not mad ather at all, and Tara relaxed.She knew Lee reallyunderstood her. Thinking ofevery possible thing thatmight go wrong andpreparing for it quelled herusualanxiety.Itcamefromachildhood of total chaos—Tara needed control in ordertofeelsecure.

She threw her armsaround her husband andhuggedhim.“Iloveyou,andif there’sanyway tokeepussafe, I’m gonna do it!” shelaughed.Lee smiled and toldher he loved her too, crazyparanoiaandall.

Shefeltmuchbetternow.“It’s not paranoid to beparanoidwhenyournextdoorneighborsdieofEbola,”Taratold him, munching on a

cracker she’d taken from thepackage.

His face fell, and then ithither.Theirneighborsweredead. Theywere nice peoplewho didn’t deserve such athing, yet it had happened.This was serious, andalthough both she and Leewere trying to keep it light,Frank and Marla were dead.The mouthful of dry crackersuddenly stuck like sand in

her throat, and she threw therestofthepieceaway.

“May God rest theirsouls,” said Lee, and Tarasomberlyagreed.

They spent the eveningin their separate pursuits;Tarasortingcansoffoodanddatingthemwithasharpie.Itmadeiteasiertousethemostrecently dated first, so sheplaced those facing outwardin the cupboard. She cleaned

out the pantry, and stackedand rearranged the supplies.Lee brought down an oldupright potato bin from theattic. It had been her mom’sandhadawire frontoneachof three shelves which shefilled with cans too. Leedisappearedintothebasementto takestockofhis toolsandTara’s old shelf of preppersuppliesfromherparents.

Later, they watched TV

together for a while. Thenews had a CDC pressconferencefromearlierintheday,butwhattheysaiddidn’tmake any sense. The CDCclaimednooneelsewassickwith Ebola, and in fact,Africawasgainingcontrolofthe epidemic. They claimedno one had died inAmerica,so there was no reason topanic. Tara was baffled bythis,knowingthetruth.Their

neighbor’s fate madeanything else the CDC saidunbelievable. If they wouldcover that up, then all of itwasprobablyalie.Leedidn’tsay much. When she askedhim what he thought, hisresponsewas,“Whatelsecantheydooncethetoothpasteisoutofthetube?”Tarathoughthe’d pretty much describedthingsrightthere.

~

The days passed thisway, with both she and Leetinkering around the house.Tara made one last run forsupplies at the dollar store,avoiding every other humanbeing she saw. She took acanisterofhandwipes in thecarwithher,soshecouldusethemassoonasshegotbackin.

She saw Mary one dayacross the street, and yelled

that Lee was taking hisvacation for the next month.Mary gave her awave and athumbsup.

Everything seemednormal otherwise. It was thelullbeforethestorm.

~Bright and early one

morning, at the end of Lee’ssecond week off, his bosscalled. Tara answered andLee took thephone,glancing

at her with raised eyebrows.Taracouldonlyhearonesideof the conversation, but aftersaying “Hello,” she heardLee’s boss’s voice comingover the phone, rising ineitherexcitementorfear.

“You’re kidding,” Leesaid. Then, “Yes. Iunderstand. Okay. Goodluck.”

He listened for a secondor so, then thanked her and

hungup.Leejuststoodtherewith his eyes narrowed inthought,andthisreallyscaredTara.“What?”shecried.

“Half the plant is outsick.Theydecidedtocloseitdowntoday.Shesaidmilitarypeople were there.” Leestared off unseeing, strokinghischin.“Theytoldhernottotell anyone, but she wantedme to know.” He turnedaway. “She said they

threatenedher.”Taracould feelherheart

beating hard. It’s on. It’sreallystarting.Lee lookedather. “I think this time, Tara,you might be right.” Taradidn’t want to be right. Shewanted them tobeokay.Shewanted a normal life. Shewantedthewholeworldtobeokay.

Thank God, I made himtake vacation! She wasn’t

goingtosaythisoutloud,butthenLeehuggedher,andsaidit.

“Thank you. I think Idodged a bullet.” His browfurrowed again. “I wonderwhythemilitarycame?Whatis their involvement? That’swhat worries me the most. Imean,ifhalftheplanthadtheflu, the military wouldn’tcome.”

“If someone from the

plant tested positive forEbola, they’d get involvedfast, Lee. I need to talk toMary. She told me herdaughter Julie was possiblyexposed too. I wonder whatsheknows.”

They sat in the frontroom talking and just then,the mailman came. Taraleaned outside to get hers,watching for Mary. Sureenough,Marypokedherhead

out and reached into hermailbox.

Tara came out on theporch and called her over.ShewatchedasMarycrossed,suddenly aware there wasmuch less traffic than usual.Tara, you’re getting reallyparanoid. But she knew shehad to be. The smallest signmight mean the differencenow.

“Mary,I’msogladtosee

you! I need to tell yousomething—my husband’sboss just called—their planthas been closed—half theemployees are out sick! Andthemilitarywasthere,buthisboss didn’t know why, onlythat they threatened her tokeepquiet.”

Mary leaned in, her facepale and distressed. “I heardfrom both my daughter Julieandmycousinthismorning.I

wasgoing tocomeover laterandtellyou.Mycousin’sboyworks for Universal Heatingand Cooling. They’renational, with a satelliteofficeherein town.Hehasadesk job there and knows allthe orders that come in. Healsosendscrewsouttodothejoborders.”Theolderwomanswallowed hard, as thoughwhat she was about to saywasstuckinherthroat.

“Hesaystheyhavecrewsout all over the country,fittinggratesontheductworkin each Wally-World store.Notonlydid their crewdo ithereintownatourstore,theyalso put them on the oldabandoned K-Mart buildingdown there beside it lastweek. And the local crewguys reported othercompanies were thereworking too, welding iron

security gates across all theentrancesandexits.”

Puzzled, Tara’s mindraced.Why?Whywould theyneedtheductworkcovered?

Mary narrowed her eyesand her voice dropped to awhisper. “They’re onlycovering ductwork bigenough for a person to getthrough. The smaller ones,they don’t cover.” Tarathought her heartmight stop.

Shefeltimmediatelysick.“Oh, my Lord. What’s

yourcousin’stakeonit?”“He thinks they’re

making quarantine centers,camps maybe. The scariestthingistheymadeallofthemsign non-disclosure releases.He was almost afraid to tellme, but everyone knowssomething bad is coming.Ebola must be all over thecountry,Tara,and theydon’t

wantpeopletoknow.Hesaidjust that first case in Dallascaused the stock market todrop300points—so itmightcause a panic and shut downtheeconomy, the flights, andthestores.Godforbid!”Marymadeasarcasticsoundinherthroat.

“My God, that’sridiculous!Ifeveryoneknew,maybe they could protectthemselves!”

“I’mbeginningtobelievethey don’twant everyone tosurvive it. Maybe it’s someform of population controllike the conspiracy theoristsaresaying.”

Suddenly, the websitesdevoted tocrazyconspiracieswhere Tara regularly lurkedweren’t looking like suchnutbags.

“What about yourdaughter, Mary? Is she

okay?”“Yes, she’s fine. She

wasn’t directly exposed toyourneighborsintheER,buther whole shift was givenleave to self-quarantine.She’s kept my six year oldgrandsonhomeallweekwithher too, because he caught acold at preschool.Now she’sgettingit.Iwasafraidforherat first, but she just hasregular head cold symptoms

and a small fever. With fluseasonaroundthecorner,thisis scary. Hard to know whohas the flu and who hasEbola.”

“Oh no, Mary, I didn’teventhinkofthat.”

Tara warned her to gether supplies now, mostly soshe wouldn’t have to go outanymore. Mary nodded. “Ithought I would top off mypantrytoday.ThenI’mgoing

intohermitmodelikeyouandLee.”

Taranodded.“Ithinkit’sfor the best right now.” Shepulled her phone out. “Can Ihaveyournumberandemail,Mary?” They exchangedcontactinformation.

“I just had a thought—what would happen if wecouldn’t use internet orphones? We would all bereallyisolated,”Tarasaid.

Mary nodded. “Theycould shut that stuff off aseasy as pie too. Not tomentioniftheelectricgoes—none of us will be able tocharge our devices! But if,God forbid, thathappensandyou ever need me? See thatlittle window right overthere?”ShepointedandTaranodded. “You just shine aflashlight over in thatwindow.Theheadofmybed

is right there. I’ll see it andcome.”

Tara looked up at theirownbedroomwindow. “Youcoulddo thesame thingwithours.Ourbedisfurtherback,against thewall, but Iwouldsee the light on the ceilingeventually,ifyoukeptitup.”

Mary nodded. “Okay,I’m going for supplies, Tara.You need anything?” Taratold her no and they said

goodbye.Shewasevenmoreworriednow.Theunrealityofit all struck her—butunfortunately, it was all tooreal.

She went in search ofLeeandpassedonwhatMaryhad said. Between Mary’snewsandLee’sphonecall, adifferent feeling haddescendedonher.Taradidn’tlike itatall. Itwasonethingto imagine an apocalypse,

another to believe youmightexperienceone.

~Another week went by,

and to Tara, it seemed evenless traffic was on theformerlybusystreetoutfront.The media had stoppedreporting anything aboutEbola. Just the week before,Facebook had still been fullof the usual inane concerns

about kittens, Justin Bieber’srelationship status, and TheReal Housewives of NewJersey.WhenTara asked forinfo or posted Ebolaconcerns, most people gotupset,soshestopped.Butthisweek, she began to notice alot of her friends list wasabsent.Theysimplywerenotposting. And a few moreposted cryptic one liners like“Sick,”or“Ugh,housefullof

flu here.” This didn’t helpcalmherfears.

That night, somethingwoke her up. The projectionclock on her ceiling said itwas almost 4 a.m. Tara laythere for a minute, and thenbecame aware of the steadydroneoflargevehiclesonthestreet out front. After amoment, out of curiosity shegot up and looked out thewindow.

Truckaftermilitarytruckrolledby,endtoend,bumperto bumper, all camo colored.The line stretched as far asshe could see. “LEE!” sheyelled, and heard him yelpawake.“C’mere,quick!”

Tara watched at leasttwentymoregobybeforeLeejoinedherat thewindow.Hewhistledunderhisbreath.Shecountedoutloud.“Thirtysix,thirtyseven,thirtyeight,”she

keptitupuntiltheendoftheline,sixty-seven,alltogether.

“I think the sound ofthem passing is what wokeme up. I laid there listeningfor at least aminute before Igotup,soImust’vemissedabunch. There must be ahundredandfiftyatleast!”

Lee looked worried.“This can’t be a very goodsign, I’m afraid. Any largemovement of troops within

the US usually signifiessomething happening.Especially here in this ruralarea,withoutabaseanywherenearby.”

They crawled back inbed and Lee dozed off rightaway, but Tara couldn’t stopher mind. She stared at theceiling,chestheavy,watchingthenumbersontheprojectionclockchanging.

~

The next morning, Taradecided to call Mary withwhat they’dseen.Shepickeduponthesecondring.

“Mary, I’m gettingscared. A huge line ofmilitary trucks went by atfourinthemorning.Icountedsixty-seven after I got up tolook out, and they’d beengoing past a while before Igottothewindow.”

“Oh, no,”Maryworried.

“I just heard from ourneighbor Anna down at theend of the street. She ran tothe store early this morning.Twosoldierswereoutsidetheentranceholdingalittleradar-gun looking thing pointed ateach person’s head beforethey went in! She said theystopped one guy, andsomeone in a spacesuit ledhimaroundthecorner,behindthe store. She didn’t know

where.”“Oh, dear God.” Tara

hungup and stood there in adaze. It’s on. They’recheckingforfever.

To her it felt like thewhole world was holding itsbreath, waiting, waiting. It’syou who’s waiting, Tara,that’swhy it seems thatway.She walked into the kitchenand stood staring at the cansin the pantry. She felt very

protective over themsomehow. She really wantedto laugh at her foolishness,butcouldn’t.

Deep down, she knewthere wasn’t enough tosustain them for long. Notnearly long enough anyway.Before the media went quieton the stories about Ebola,they’d been reporting amaximum 21 days fromEbolaexposuretosymptoms.

But Tara did some researchand read about a few peopleshowingsymptomsat30daysand beyond. So ideally, sheandLee needed enough foodtolastthemthroughtheinitial“die off,” and maybe thesecondwavetoo.Thatwasalong time. Even if theaverage case showedsymptoms by 21 days, thesecond wave would be 42days.

The WHO and CDC’srules originally claimed two21 day quarantine periodswithoutanewcasemeanttheoutbreak was over. So, sheand Lee needed 42 days offood in a best case scenario.However, Tara thought 60dayswas probablymore likeit,toreallybesafe.

Sixty days. We’re gonnarunout longbefore that.Shestared into the stacked rows

of cans uneasily. We needenough tobeable tobugoutforsixmonths. I’d feelbetterif we had that much. That’s180 days of food. At threecans of food each per day,thatwas1,080cans!

They didn’t have thatmuch. If they were careful,maybe they could go amonth. Tara’s dark sense ofhumor kicked in again.Well,I’ve been meaning to lose

someweight.She walked to the

window and looked out. ItwasOctobernow,and leaveswerefalling.Theiryardwasalongone,surroundedbytreesand bordered by an alley inback. A squirrel scamperedacross the grass, and anotherone ran down a tree trunk tomeet it. I wonder if we caneat the squirrels. Monkeysand bats carry Ebola. They

know that for sure. Andmaybe dogs, that’s why theytook Marla’s, I bet. Wouldboilingmeat kill the virus, ifthe squirrels carried it? Andwhataboutrabbits?Wehavefoodsourcesrightinourownyard, if things get badenough. The squirrels racedaround obliviously, unawareoftheirimpendingnutritionalstatus.

Just then, her cell phone

rang.ItwasMary.“It’s almost dark. Iwant

to go look over across thegravel pit at the old Kmartstoredowntheroad.Willyoutwo go with me later on? Ithinkwe need to go on foot,so as not to draw theirattention. By the way, myfriend Anna went out again,and when she got back,someone had broken in andransacked her house. Worst

thing is they stole almost allher food! She’d beenstockpiling for a while, likeus.So, I don’t knowwhat tothink!”

The thoughtofbreak-insin the neighborhood freakedTaraout.“Ohno!Isurehopeit’snotatrend,becausenoneof these homes are verysecure. Yeah, I’d like to goseewhat’s going on down atKmart too. Call me in two

hours.”ShehungupandtoldLee

what Mary wanted to do.Surprisingly, he was gameand wanted to go as well.Tara told him about thebreak-in just a few housesdown, and the fact that theystole food. Lee didn’t sayanything, but she could tellthis disturbed him. Itdefinitelydisturbedher.

Lee went off to the

basement to finish hisongoing organization project.Tara stood in the kitchenthinking. The terrible feelingthat she hadn’t thought ofeverythingnaggedather.

Asuddennoisefromthechurchbuildingontheothersideoftheirhousemadeherjump,andshebackedawayfromwhereshestoodnearthe

window.Someone’soutthere!

Chapter4The thin, wavy glass

pane between Tara and Godknewwhat, struck terror intoher heart. She couldn’t seeanyone, but that didn’tmeanthey weren’t there. It’s notsafe in here, really.Wehavea little food—just enough forsomebody to take from us.She glanced up at the tall

window,thenoveratthebackdoor with its large glassopening.Panicnearlystoppedher breath.This house is fullof ways in, all over theground floor!Wehave togetthemcovered.Shepeeredoutat the church and parsonageagainbutcouldseenothreat.Maybeitwasjustsquirrelsonthe roof. They’re thick outtherethisyear.

But Tara still walked

throughthedownstairsofthebig old house, counting.Eleven windows and doors!Twelve if you count thebasement landing, more ifyou count the basementwindows.Oh,myGod.

She could hear Lee stilltinkering somewhere in thebasement. “Lee, come uphere!” Tara called. “Hurry,”she added, as she heard himslowly moving up the stairs.

There’snowayhe’sgoingtogoforthis,butIhavetotry.

Tara grabbed his arm.“We need to cover thewindows. I heard somethingoveratthechurch.Youknowtheparsonagehasbeenemptyfor almost a year, so no oneshould be there, anywhere.Maybe it’s a squirrel on theroof, but someone could bebreakinginlookingforstuff.

“Tara, calm down, what

areyoutalkingabout?”“Look!” she pointed at

the back door, then at thewindow over the sink, thentoward the pantry where thelargewindowlookedoutovertheirbackyard.

“What?” asked Lee,baffled.

“The windows! They’reeverywhere.”Tarapulledhimtoward the pantry. She tookhishandandplaced iton the

thin glass. “Is this really allyou want between us andsomethuglookingforfood?”Tara finally saw recognitiondawnonLee’sface.

“It’s coming, Lee. I justknowitis.AllthosedreamsIkeep having, it’s a warning.Themilitarytrucks,thegrateson big box stores, it’s all awarning.AndifI’mwrong,ifI’m being a fool, I will notsay a word when you make

fun ofme for the rest of ourlives, but I don’t think I’mwrong.Notthistime.”

There had been othertimes.When the twin towerswere destroyed, Tara boughtafewpreppersupplies,whichstill moldered on herbasement shelf, along withthe inheritedsupplyfromhermom. But ever since, fearsimmered in her heart andTarathoughtof itnowas the

fearthathadgroomedherforthis. Was this anxiety reallyjust preparing her for Ebola,fortheendoftheworld?

“Tara,Ihatetogotoofarwith this, I mean, my God,people will think we’recrazy!”

“Iknowit’sprobablytoosoon,Lee, butplease canweatleastcoverthedownstairs?I’ll help you take it down ifnothing more happens, I

promise!”Leesighedandhisshoulders slumped. Taraknew he’d given in. Part ofhimbelievesittoo.

“I’mnotacrazy-woman,Lee. I really feel like this isit!”

Almost afraid to leavethe windows with someonemaking noise over at theparsonage, Tara finallyfollowed Lee to the attic.Theydug in thehugepile of

junk near the chimney andcameupwithseveraloldoakheadboards and a coupletabletops. Tara helped carrythem down to the upstairslanding,onebyone,mentallytickingoffwhich itemwouldclose off which window ordoor.

“I’m not as worriedabout the second floor, notyetanyway.”Taraslidatabledowntheshortflightofstairs

to the foyerwithLeepullingthe other end. “Do you haveenoughnails?”

Leenodded.“Gotalotofscrews too if need be.” Hehadalwaysbuiltprojectsovertheyears,andluckyforthemboth,theyweretotalpackrats.They very rarely threwanything away. Tara liked tothink of this as a sort ofinsurance, harking back totheirearlydaysofbeingvery

poor. After they startedmaking more money, purelazinesskeptherfromhavingahugeyardsaleandclearingitallout.

“I’d like to leave a littleslit,solightcomesinandwecan see.” They began in thekitchen, Tara holding up thewood and Lee nailing it intoplace. For the most strategicwindow in the pantry, Leeused two smaller pieces of

wood from the basement.This left an inch wide gapbetween the slats.Enough toseeandenoughtostickagunbarrel through, she thoughtgrimly. She stared out at therosebushinthebackyard,therose hips now prominent onthe stems. I seem to recallyou can make tea out ofthose…

Shevaguelyremembereda book she’d picked up at a

yard sale out of curiosity. Itwas something aboutbackyard foraging, and that’swhere the rose hip memorycame from. God help usmodern women. We don’tknowhowtodoanything.

As Lee worked onpounding the last nails, Tararan upstairs to the bookcase.She found the book andbrought it down where shecould look at it later. Just

then, her cell phone rang. Itwas Mary. Tara blurted outwhat she’d talked Lee intodoing, hoping for some sortofvalidation.

“I begged Lee to boardup all our ground floorwindows and doors. He’sworking on that at themoment, but he’s almostdone.HethoughtIwascrazybefore,butnow,he’sreadytocommit me,” Tara told her

sheepishly.“Askhimifhe’llhelpme

do mine. I only have four.”Tara was relieved to hearMary was on the same pageas her about the windowboarding. Tara told her tomeet them out back inanotherhour,andvolunteeredher husband for Mary’swindows too. Lee just rolledhis eyes at her, good naturedtotheend.

They finished with thedownstairsandTarafeltsilly,but safe. It was a chilly fallnight for early October andthey grabbed their jackets.Tarahadaredoneonatfirst,until Lee pointed out howvisible it was. She changedintoallblack.

They closed the doorbehind them and met Marycoming down their drive.“Let’s go see what this

military thing is all about,”saidtheolderwoman.

Lee held Tara’s hand asthey walked quietly throughthe oddly unlightedneighborhood, which Leenoticed first. They took thedarkcountryroadattheedgeof town, which led to thegravel pit about a mile fromtheir house. They could hearsounds coming from there,long before they arrived

withinsightofit.A grassy area along the

blacktopped road ended in abulldozedpileofdirtfromtheexcavation site below. Theyapproachedthelipofthenowovergrown gravel pit wherethe abandoned Kmart sat onthe far side, seven hundredyards away. The three ofthem ducked down the lastfewfeet,creepingcloseruntilthey could see. Then they

crouched there in the grass,staring at the phenomenonrising in the distance. Itlookedforalltheworldlikeahugefieldhospital.

~The virus waited on

surfaces everywhere now: ondoorknobs and handles ofdoors to the most populatedstores, on hard plasticarmrests in doctor’s offices,

on airport chairs, on smoothmolded tabletops in foodcourts. Fast food workers—required by law to weardisposable gloves but notalways complying— touchedeach hamburger bun, leavingvirus particles as theyassembled sandwiches.Cashiers at the largest chainstores took in money andpassed the virus back out inbills and change. The Zaire

strainofEbolasurviveduptoseven weeks on glass. Itsurviveddriedonsurfaces,orin liquid like vomitus andmucus. It survived intemperatures as low as 39degrees Fahrenheit. It rodealong on fingers, which thenrubbed eyes,wipednoses, orbit at a hangnail. Then itnestled into the soft, warm,membranesofnostrils,gums,lungs, and eyes and

multiplied for an average ofeight to tendays. Headache,muscleaches,sorethroatandfever then began, and thevirus cycle continued,shedding from the skin andbodyfluidsofthehost.Everyhandshake at every gatheringand party, at everyworkstation and eachworkplace,itwaitedandtookhold, silently, aggressively,completely.

The hosts went abouttheir daily routines, sheddingvirus particles thoroughlyeverywheretheywent.Atinylittlefeverwasnobiggie.Noonecouldaffordtostayhomesick because of that.Therefore, Ebola wasefficiently distributed to all,regardless of race, color,creed,gender, age,disability,sexual orientation, or maritalstatus. It was a true, equal-

opportunitykiller.~

“What in God’s name?”hissed Mary betweenclenched teeth, and Tarashushed her with a gentletouchonthearm.

“Wow,” breathed Lee.Tara just stared in horror atthescene.

Below them spread outaround the old Kmartbuilding were tents, at least

ten of them, and large onestoo. The original Kmartparkinglot lightswereon,aswellasfiveorsixtalllightingtrees, which rose abovegenerators thrumming withpower. Military trucks wereparked all around thebuilding, and men incamouflage uniforms walkedback and forth, carryingbuilding materials. From thelooksofit,somestoodguard,

both at the front and rear ofthebuilding.

“What are they doing?Do you think they’reexpecting to fill this placewithpatients?”

Leeshookhisheadwhileboth she and Mary stared athim. “I think it’s alreadyfilled.”

Tara scanned the scenedownacrossthepit,fasteningher eyes onto what looked

like a fleet of smallerambulance type vehicles andwhite vans. Just then,headlightsapproachedaroundthe side of the old store andthey watched as one of thesmallervehiclesstoppednearthe rear entrance. A team ofhazmat-suitedworkers exitedthe building and approachedit.Therearhatchwasopened,and two plastic encasedstretcher type objects were

liftedout.Youcouldn’treallysee what was in them. Theywere completely enclosed inwhite plastic interspersedwith clear panels. The suitedpeople,whodisappearedwiththeir burdens into thebuilding, carried these twolargeobjectsoneachend.

“There’s someonecontagious in each of thosepods,”Leetoldthem.

“Oh,myGod,Lee,thisis

reallyhappening,isn’tit?It’sreally going on, right now,rightdownthere!”

Mary encircled Tara’sshoulder with one arm. “Ithinkitis,Tara.”

“I can’t quite see for allthese bushes,” Lee said. Herosetohiskneesthenstood.

“Lee, stay down!They’ve gone to all thistrouble to keep this underwraps, what do you think

they’d do if they saw youspying?” Tara pulled at hispantslegandMaryjoinedin.“She’sright,Lee,let’sgetoutofhere.”

“Okay, just a minute.”He took two steps, climbinguponthesoftdirtatthelipofthe gravel pit. The suddennoise of an approachingvehicle on the country roadbehind them caused Tara tocry out to Lee to get down.

Asthevan’sheadlightssweptaround the bend, Lee wasbriefly silhouetted in itslights.Hemadeaquickmoveto jump back, and the dirtbeneath his feet gave way.Instantly, he was gone,tumblingforwardintothepit.

Tara barely stoppedherself from screaming. SheheardLee’sgruntofpainandthe sound of him hitting therockshard.

“Oh no,” Mary criedsoftly. They stayed crouchedin the grass until the whitevanwentbyanddisappeareddown the road. They hadn’tseen him. Then Tarascrambled to the edge andlookedover.Maryjoinedher.

Leewas groaning softly,pulling himself back up. Hehadn’tfallenfar.

“I fellonmyleg. Itbentupbehindme!”

Tara saw his grimace ofpain and sprang into action.“Mary,helpme.We’vegottoget him back up here.” Thetwo women gingerly plantedtheir feet in the soft soil onthe other side of the pile ofdirt, asLee crawled to them.Grasping his hands, theypulled for all they wereworth. Lee’s two-hundred-pound-plus frame inchedslowly toward them. Tara’s

fear for him rose up, nearlychoking her, but she wasmore afraid they would bediscovered spying on themedicalfacility.

“Mary, come on, pull,justafootmore.”Thewomenstruggled and grunted, andLeepushedwithhisgoodleguntil he finally heaved hischestacrossthetopofthedirtpile.

“My God, we’ve got to

get you out of here!” Tarawas in apanic, staringat thevehicles now leaving theparking lot below. “Theycould come up here anyminute!” She knelt besideLee to survey the damage.Marywasalreadyrunningherhand down his right leg toascertain where the injurywas. Lee winced as she feltalongtheoutsideofhisknee.

“I heard it crack, Mary.

And I feel sick at mystomach, just like IdidwhenIbrokemyarmyearsago.”

“I think you’re right,Lee.Ibelieveit’sbroken.It’sa common break when youfallwith your leg bent underyou—it’s the outer bone, thesmalleronecalledthefibula”

Tara wiped Lee’s facewithhershirt.Hehadbrokenoutinacoldsweat.“IthinkImightbe sick,”he said.Tara

glanced around, and sawthereweredensebushesjustashort distance away fromthemalongtheroad.

“Lee, we’ve got to getyou out of sight.Mary, grabhis arm.Let’s drag him overtherebehind thosebushes,sonoonecanseeus.”

Lee groaned, but wasable to help them push off alittle. It was obvious he wasin severe pain. They pulled

himbehindaclumpofbrush,and Tara knelt there. “Lee,whatshouldwedo?Howcanwe get you home? We needtocalltheambulance,getyoutotheER.”

“No way!” he erupted.“I’mnotgoingtotheER.Goinforabrokenleg,youcomeout with Ebola! Mary, howmuch do you know aboutbreaks? Can you rig me upwithsomething?”

The older womannodded.“Ifitisbroken,theseare painful breaks, Lee, butthey heal fairly well becauseit’s the non-weight-bearingbone there on the outside ofthe leg. In fact, I may evenhaveanair cast athome thatwillfityou.Butyou’regoingto be in a lot of pain for awhile, andwill have to keepthelegicedandproppedup.”

Tara stared back and

forthbetweenthem.“Areyoukidding me? Are you surethatwillwork?”Shestaredather husband. Do you reallywant to do that? Do youbelieve the hospital isn’tsafe?” Tara still somehowwantedLeetoquietherfears.

Mary agreed with Lee.“If it’s not broken, thetreatment is about the same.The recovery time is justlonger with a break. He’ll

knowwhichitissoonenoughanyway.Idon’tthinkit’ssafeat the hospital anymoreeither,Tara.Godknowswhatthey’re not telling us. Fromwhat my daughter is saying,therearecases there theyarehidingfromus.”

That was good enoughforTara.

“Okay, I’m going to runhomeandgetmySUV.Icanleave the lights off so they

don’t see us. Mary, can youstay with him?” But Leedidn’t want her to, and toldTarathey’dbesaferasapair.Shereluctantlyagreed.

“Don’t you move, Lee.Don’t do anything to drawattention to yourself.” Leelooked at her as if to sayDUH! It broke the tensionand they all laughed a little.Tara bent down to him. “Ilove you. I’m so sorry this

happened, but we’ll be rightbackandgetyouhome.”Leenodded,obviouslyinpain.

TaragrabbedMary’sarmas they hurried away downthe road. “Do you have anypain pills, Mary? I’ve gotsome old ones from my lastdentalappointment.”

“I do.We can treat himathomeandgethimgoodasnew.Don’tyouworry.We’llknowsoonenoughifitreally

isbroken.Itwillswellupandhe’llhavetroublewalkingonitatall.”

The women moved fastdownthelongcountryroadtothe edge of town, then asquietlyas theycould throughthe dark neighborhood, untilthey reached the backyard ofTara’shouse.

“Doesn’titseemawfullydark around us lately? Andhave you noticed the traffic

out front has slowed to ahandfulofcars?”

Marynodded,eyeshuge.“I have. I don’t take it as agood sign.And I’m afraid togobackouttothestoretoseewhat’sgoingon.”

Tara’s SUV was parkedin her little pull in spacebehind their garage and shedugoutherkeysandstarteditup. Mary climbed in thepassengerside.Themilelong

stretch of road on the waybackseemedsomuchshorterwhenyouweredriving.

“What do you say totaking a little trip tomorrow,Tara,sortofareconnaissancemission?” The thought of itscared Tara, but she feltbraver with the idea ofMary’scompany.

“That’sagreatidea.I’vebeenafraidtoventureouttoo,but we need to see for

ourselves,”Taratoldher.Tara shut off her

headlightsas soonas shegottothefaredgeoftown.Theyinched slowly along on thesecluded road, watching allsides for any danger. But afield of corn on their rightandthefencedinlakesectionof the gravel pit on their leftdidn’tleavealotofroomforhiddenthreats.Shepulledthecarofftothesideinthegrass,

verynearthebushes.SheleftitrunningwhilesheandMaryjumpedout.

“We’re back,” shewhispered softly,” and Leeappearedveryrelieved.

The women helped himup, one on each side,grabbing his underarms. Leehoppedone-leggedtothecar,supported by thewomen.Hehad to stop a couple times,groaning, and Tara knew it

musthurtbadly,becauseLeejust wasn’t the type tocomplainoverpain.

Theysettledhimintothepassenger seat and Marycrawled in the back. Again,with no headlights, Taramoved slowly down thecountryroad,turningthemonas soonas they reentered thestreet at the edge of town.Just at the edge of thecornfield, Mary pointed.

“Look!” Then glowing eyesof a white tailed deer staredback at them frozen in theheadlights. It turned andbounded away, tail flashingas it ran. Deer were veryplentiful in their rural area,but Tara’s family were nothunters, and the thought ofkilling them had alwaysturnedher stomach.Nowherusual appreciation of theirbeauty turned in a different

direction. Another possiblefoodsource…

Tarapulledintothebackalley and on into herdriveway behind the garage.Carefully, thewomen helpedLeeoutandupontothebackporch. Mary supported himwhile she unlocked theboarded over door, whichMary commented upon asthey ushered Lee inside.“You did a good job on the

door, Lee.” Tara closed itbehindtheminrelief.

“ThankGod,wemade ithome!”TheyinstalledLeeonthecouch,andTararantogetpractically all the pillows inthe house to prop his leg uphigh enough. Then she wentinsearchofheroldpainpillsand gave Lee two of them.Next, she brought a blanketand Lee pulled off his jeansunderitsoMarycouldseehis

leg.ShegaveTaraaknowinglook as soon as she saw theswelling and bruising downhis leg and behind his knee,making his skin tight andshiny.

“Have you got enoughpills for tonight?” Maryasked. “I’ll bring more overtomorrow.”Tara did and sheand Lee both thanked her.ShewalkedMarytothefrontdoortoletherout.

“I can’t believe this justhappened.”

Mary just shook herhead.“Iknow,“shesaid.“I’llseeyoutomorrow.Callmeifanythinggoeswrongorifyouneedme.”

Taranodded,andhuggedher. “Thank you so much,Mary, for everything.” Marypulledbackalittle,asthoughmaybetheyshouldn’tgetthatclose, butTara didn’t care at

themoment.“Ebola be damned” she

answeredMary’sreticence.Marysmiledandnodded,

crossingthewidestreettoherlittlebungalowonthecorner.Tara watched to make sureshe got in safely, and Maryturned and waved. Taraclosed and locked the door,leaningagainstitforaminuteto think.How am I going tomanagewithoutLee?

Chapter5Taraturnedandstaredat

Mary’s closed door for amoment. She heard Leestirring and rejoined him inthe living room. His long,lanky framebarely fit on thesofa. She fluffed his pillows,gathered ice packs and morebedding, and then turned onthe TV to distract him, her

mind elsewhere. “How areyoufeeling,honey?”Hisfacelooked pale and he grimacedinpainoccasionally.

“It hurts like hell,” heanswered stoically. “I can’tbelieveIwassoclumsy.”

Tara squeezed in, sittingdown beside him but carefulnot to jarhis leg.She leanedover to give him a hug, thensmoothed his hair back andkissedhishead.

“We’ve all had thoseklutzy moments. Mary saysthe swelling will go downwithin a few days. Then therealhealingwillbegin.You’llbe back to normal soon, Ihope.”

“Me too,” he grinned ather, “I’m not a very goodpatient.”

“You’re MY patient, soyou’dbetterbegood! Idon’tknow if I’ve ever had this

much control over you. IthinkIlikeit!”Theylaughedtogethercompanionably.

“Doyouwanttotrytogoupstairs to bed tonight orwouldyouratherstayhere?Ifso,I’mgoingtobringtheairmattressdownandsleephereonthefloornexttoyou.”

“Downhere,”hesaid,“Idon’twant tomove, but youdon’t have to stay with me.Youcangoonup.”

“I’dratherbehere,Lee.”He understood and Tara

spent the next half hourfinding the air mattress andsheets she would need. ShefinallygotherownbedsetupandLeealltakencareof.Shekissed himgoodnight, turnedoff thelightandcrawledintoher new bed. It wassurprisinglycomfortable.Shesuddenlyrealized theyhadn’teven had time to mention

what they’d seen at the oldKmart.

“I love you, Lee, shewhispered, “Tomorrow,maybe you’ll feel better andwe can go over all we sawtonight.”

But Lee didn’t answer,and Tara heard the slightsnorecomingfromthecouchwhere he had fallen into adeep,Percocet-inducedsleep.Let him sleep, he’ll heal

faster.But Tara couldn’t sleep

at all. She kept seeing thecamp,hospital,orwhateveritwas that had risen seeminglyovernight less than a mileaway. She hadn’t wanted tosay anything. In fact, shehadn’t even wanted to admitit to herself at first, but shewondered if the others hadseen what looked like thethousands of hermetically

sealedcoffins,stackedatleasttendeeponthefarleftsideofthe building, spilling overinto the parking lot. If thosearewhatIthinktheyare,theyare obviously expectingfatalities. And a lot of them.A mental picture formed inherheadas she imagined thehundreds of other rumoredcamps going up all over thecountry, each of them withthose same coffins stacked

ominously at the ready. Is iteverywhereor justhere?Arewegroundzero?

Therewas just toomuchshe didn’t know.Tara sat upand grabbed her laptop fromthecoffee tablebesideher totry to get some local newsstories, but news was stillsuspiciously absent. Plus theinternet was acting funny. Itwouldstopworking,andthencome back on all at once a

fewminuteslater.She tried Facebook and

very few people had postedrecently. Now that’s odd. Astrange fear struck Tara. Ithink this is the most aloneI’ve ever felt. Her Facebookacquaintances fromCaliforniawerealwaysonlinethree hours after her Ohiofriendswenttobed.ThenherAustralian and UK friendscameonifshestayeduplate

enough,buttonight,onlyoneortwopeoplewereon.Olderposts from the past twodaysmentioned sick households,doctorvisits andpendingERtrips. Tara scrolled uneasilythrough old posts until shefounda franticone from thatmorning in all caps: THEYTOOK MY SON! HECALLED FROM THESTORE—THEY SAID HEHAD A FEVER—HE RAN

INSIDEANDHIDBEHINDA CLOTHES RACK ANDCALLED ME! THEYFOUND HIM—I HEARDHIM SCREAMING ANDNOWHEWON’TANSWERHIS CELL! SOMEONEHELP!

Tara’s heart froze. Sheclosed the laptop, sick at herstomach, and crawled intobed, pulling the covers up toher chin. Lee’s gentle snores

filledtheroom.Tarafeltveryafraid and very alone. Shejumped up suddenly and ranupstairstogetthegunonhernightstand. As she lay downagain,thegunbesideher,shestared into the dark withvisions of the end of theworld dancing before hereyes.

~Tara woke with sun

streamingthroughthegapsin

theboardedupwindows.Shefelt like crap, but at leastshe’d finally fallen asleep.Leewasstillsleeping,soshegot up and made coffee,tryingnottothinktoomuch.

The doorbell rang.Marywas on her porch with anearlyfullbottleofPercocet.

“Ihadthisleftoverfrommy foot surgery. I hate theway it makes me feel, so Iused another painkiller. I

thought it might come inhandysomeday.”

“Oh, Mary, thank you!He spent a restless night andhis leg is so swollen! I’vekept ice packs on it, but it’snothelpingmuch.”

Mary grimaced andshookherhead.“Yeah, thesebreaks are painful. Theswelling should go downeventually. I didn’t find theaircast,butIdidfindalarge

brace—they actually usethem now on the fibulabreaks. It’s a lot lessrestricting than a cast. Youcantakeitofftosleep.”

Mary searched Tara’sface.“Itlookslikeyournightwas more restless than his!What’s wrong? You seemreallyupset.”

Tara told her about theFacebook post she’d read,andaskedherifshe’dnoticed

the coffins the night before.They spoke in harshwhispers,bothforLee’ssakeand because somehow, theyeach felt unsafe now. Theyadmitted this to one another,laugheda littlehalfheartedly,and once they had, bothrelaxed.Somehowconfessingtheirworstfearsbondedthemevenmore.

“I’m very worried aboutmy daughter and grandson.

TheyjustliveacrosstownbutI’m afraid for them. I’d likethem here with me. I knowshe doesn’t have Ebola,because she’d have shownsymptoms by now.” Mary’sdaughterstillhadaheadcoldand slight fever, but nothingmore.

They discussed herdaughter’s self-quarantineandhergrandson’scoldvirus,andaboutwhatitmightmean

to events unfolding aroundthem.Neither oneknewhowtoproceed.Therewasjusttoomuchtheydidn’tknow.

“Whilewe’reoutforourreconnaissance, could weswing by? I’ll keep mydistance. I just need to seetheirfaces.”MarysoundedsopatheticTarainstantlyagreed.Besides, this woman hadbecome her only friend andshewasn’t about to lose her,

orGodforbid,offendher.“Mary, while you’re

here,wouldyouhelpmedragdownMom’s old wheelchairfrom the attic? Just in caseLeemightneedit.”

Tara led the way, andthree flights of stairs later,she pushed aside the stackeditems and located it in thebackcorneroftheattic.Therewas also a pair of crutchesand Tara tossed them down

onto the landing. Thewheelchairwas still in prettygood shape and it folded forstorage, thank goodness.Mary tookonesideandTaratheotherandtheywrestleditdownthenarrowstairs.Oncein the foyer, Mary deftlypopped it open and rolled itbackandforth.

“This is the Cadillac ofwheelchairs!”shejoked.

“Yeah, we wantedMom

to be comfortable at the end,soweboughtheraniceone.”

Tara maneuvered itthrough the front room andintotheattachedfireplaceandTV room where Lee hadtaken up residence. He wasfully awake now. Tara hadeven brought her mom’spotty chair from the attic forhimthenightbefore.Shewasvery glad she’d kept all thisstuffafterhermomdiednine

yearsearlier.“Let me see that leg,

Lee,” Mary asked him. Leegroaned and tried to sit up alittle.

“I need some more painpills, Tara.” Tara shook twoout of the pill bottle whileMary pushed the blanketsback and lifted off the icepacks. Tara handed the pillsand Lee’s water to him, andthen took away a couple ice

packs to rotate and refreezethem,bringingtwofreshonesback.

TaraandMarymovedinclose to lookatLee’sbrokenleg.Ithadswollenbehindhiskneeandondownthesideofhiscalf,anditwasblackandblue. Tara flinched at thesight of it and groaned incommiseration.Sheleanedinto kiss the top of herhusband’s head. Lee settled

back into his makeshift bedandsighed.

Mary felt for anyhotspotsontheleg,whichsheexplained could mean a clothad formed, but there werenone.SatisfiedLeewasdoingaswellascouldbeexpected,shere-coveredhim.TaratoldLee that she and Mary weregoing on a road trip to seewhat they could.Leenoddedabsently and closed his eyes,

still out of it from thePercocet.

“I’mafraidhe’sgoingtosleep through most of thenext few days,” Marywhispered to her. Tarawatched Lee for a minute,concerned, but he closed hiseyes and began his soft littlesnore, so she turned andmotionedMarytofollowher.

“He’llbeokay fora fewminutes,”Tara told the older

woman, relocking the frontdoor. She grabbed her coatandledthemouttheback.

“Ifeellikeasecretagentor something,” Tara joked,but it wasn’t far from thetruth.Fearhadalwayscausedher to bluff her way throughthings, acting brave. But shewasn’t feeling very brave atthemoment.Mary got in thepassenger side of Tara’s oldHonda CRV and she slowly

backedoutintothealley.“Where should we go

first?”Taraaskedherfriend.“Let’s head downtown

andseewhat’sgoingon.”Tara turned left at the

next alley, and then rolled toa stop, waiting to exit ontothemainstreet.

“Lookatthetraffic,”shepointed out. There wasn’tany.Onlyahandfulofcarsineitherdirectionmade it seem

more like three a.m. ratherthan nearly noon. It wouldusuallybenonstopaboutnowon their normally bustlingstreet. Tara pulled out,driving slowly toward theirdestination.

Their street was a longone; one of the mainthoroughfares bordering thewesternedgeoftown.Almostimmediately, they noticed awhite van suspiciously

backeduptoahouseaboutablock down. “Don’t stare,Mary.Don’tletthemseeyoulooking!”

The two men in hazmatsuitscarriedaplastic-coveredstretcher, just like the onesthey’d seen at the Kmart. Itlooked like a giant oblongbubble. Mary glanced awayquickly. “Oh, my God!” shebreathed.

Within another block,

they saw two more whitevans backed into drivewaysor up into small front yards.Tarafollowedherownadviceand looked away. “What arethey going to do when theyrunoutofspaceforthem?Orout of vans?” Marymet hergaze,eyeswidewithfright.

“Then the jig is up, I’dsay.” Yes, she’s right. Theyareontopofitsofar,atleastthey think so. Tara arrived at

thecrossstreetthattookthemtotheabandonedKmart.

“Turnhere,Tara,let’stryto see what they’re doingback there,” Mary told her.Taracontinueddownthenextstreet, and they counted twomore vans retrieving sickpeoplefromtheirhomes.

“The white vans areacting as ambulances, Iguess.”

Mary nodded, biting a

fingernail.At the access road

leading to the Kmart andDollar stores, a roadblockwas set up. Sheriff’s cruiserssat crossways in front ofbarricades. “Don’t look atthem,Mary, let’s keep goingand swing back around theotherdirection.”

Tara was in full panicnow. Something big wasobviously happening. There

couldnolongerbeanydoubt.Mary leaned forwardanxiously. “Iwant you to gobymydaughter’shousenow,okay?”Taranoddedand toldhershewould.

“It’s on Fourth Street,just head back this way andturn leftat thedeli.”As theypassed the Subway and theMcDonald’s, there were nocars at either. This was asshocking as anything else

they’d seen. It really drovehome the scale of theepidemic.

“Mary, they’re allclosed!”FearcoursedthroughTara.Shewantedtogetbackhome,wantedtorun,tohide.

Just then, Mary’s cellrang and she looked at it.“Thank God, it’s mydaughter.” She pressed thecallbuttonandanswered.AllTara could hear was Mary’s

daughter screaming. Hervoice carried loudly in theenclosed vehicle. Shesounded stuffed up with aheadcold.

“Mom, they took us!They stopped to refuel thevan.They’re inside paying. ItoldthemIdidn’thaveacellphone!”

“What? Whathappened!”criedMary.

“We went to the

drugstore for cold medicine,andBenandIbothstillhavefevers.They took us! I don’tknow where we’re going.”Taraheardtheyoungwomansob,andthenthefaintcryingofalittleboy.Oh,dearGod!

“Where are you? Julie,whereareyou,canyousee?”Marynearlyshouted.

“They’re coming, Mom!They said we’d be kept herelocal. We’re just past the

Mall at the gas station,headed toward the oldKmart.”Tara’sheartsankandMaryglancedather.

“Canyougetout?”“They’re coming! I love

you.Nomatterwhathappens,Iloveyou!”

“Julie, wait, try to run,takeBen and run!”Mary satforward on the edge of herseat,frantic,buttherewasnoanswer. Her daughter Julie

had hung up. Mary wasbeside herself, and burst intotears.

“Turn around, Tara, godown there, maybe we cangetthem!”Taralookedatherdoubtfully,andMarycametohersenses.

“What am I saying?Wecan’t get them, not with theNational Guard or theMarines or whoever the hellthose soldiers are.” She put

her head in her hands andsobbed. “They only havecolds, for God’s sake. Nowthey’llgetEbola.”

Tara did her best toreassure Mary, but she wasinconsolable. Taraunderstood.

“Mary we have to getback. We have to get home.Thiswon’tdousanygoodtobethrownintherewiththem.Maybe we can think of

something.”Marysniffedanddried her eyes, lookingabsolutely devastated, butagreeing.

Taradrovecarefullybackto her house, noticing twomore “ambulances” pickingsick people up on the way.When she finally reachedtheir alley, her relief waspalpable.

Mary told Tara goodbyeandhurriedacrosstoherown

home. She called back overher shoulder that she neededtodosomeresearchandthinkthings over, and she’d be intouch. Tara felt a terriblesenseofhelplessness.She letherself in her back door,going instantly to Lee’scouch. He was a little morealert, the worst of the pilleffectshavingwornoff.He’dsettledintoamellowstageofpainkillerhigh.

Tara describedeverything, starting with theambulances and roadblocks,and ending with Mary’sdaughterJulie.

“Good God,” Leeexclaimed, and that’s whenTara broke down too. Leeheldherassheleanedagainsthim,releasingallherpentupfear and frustration. Finally,the overwhelming wave ofemotion slowed, but Tara

remained there, restingagainstLee.Theystayed thatway for a long time, notspeaking, both grieving theirnew circumstances. The sunthrough the window slitsdimmed,thendarkenedastheafternoonfadedaway.

~Tarastoodstaringoutthe

window upstairs at the darkstreet below. There were

mostly military vehiclespassing by now, camouflagetrucks interspersed with awholelotofthoseplainwhitevans, and a few dark,unmarked cars. She stoodwatchingfor tenminutesandonly counted three normallooking civilian automobiles.ShewantedtotellLee,buthewas downstairs sleeping. Itseemedlikethatwasaboutallhe’d done since he’d broken

hisleg.The last time Tara was

online, even fewer peoplewere present. Someoneposted about all the grocerystores being closed, even thedollar stores. Tara realizedthe moment she read it, thatthey had now moved into adangeroustime—thefinelineof rationality could easily becrossed into mob mentalitywhen those who hadn’t

prepared ran out of food.Rioting, armed gangs andmartial law usually followedthesekindsofdisasters.

Today,Tarahadnotbeenable to get on the internet atall. It sent her into anotherround of panic. She hadn’twanted to botherMary sincetheir reconnaissance trip, butshe’d really expected her tocall by now. She hadwaitedlong enough, and now she

wasworried. Tara pulled hercell phone out and dialedMary’s number. Nothinghappened. No recording, nosound,nothing.

Why would cell servicebeout?Andtheinternettoo?Could the towers be down?Or are the people runningthings sick? The lightsflickered briefly and Tara’sheart fluttered along withthem.Another thought came.

Maybe the government needsus isolated, unable to spreadnews.She instantly squashedthat. Stop it, Tara, you’rebeing paranoid.She ran intothe upstairs TV room andswitchediton,tryingtogetanews channel. Nothinghappened,nopictureatall.

The lights flashed again,went out briefly then camebackon.Oh,myGod.Arewegoing to lose everything,

electricity too? Eyes wide,Tara bolted for the junkdrawer where she stored thecandles. She placed them onthe floor in the hallway andsearched in each room formore. She found some indecorativeholders,andaddedthemtothebatchinthehall.

Next Tara lifted downthetwolargeoillampsontopof the bookcase. Her motherhad passed them on to her.

Then she ran down to thebasement and gathered thesmall oil lamps she usuallyhung on all the trees atcookouts.

She looked through theslatsinthebackdoortoseeifit was safe before steppingonto the porch. Stored underthe chair were two largebottles of lamp oil. Shebrought them in. There weretwomoreinthebasementand

one on the front porch undertheglider.Taragatheredthemall. Then she dug in thekitchen drawer for woodenmatches, and found anunopened multi-pack of fourlarge boxes. She carriedeverything down fromupstairs, putting it with theother stuff on the basementlanding. Her heart rateslowed.At leastwewon’t beinthedarkiftheelectricgoes

out.Itwas time towakeLee

andtellhimall this.Shewasgoing to need a way tocontact Mary. She wasterrified to go out and crossthestreet,afraidoneof thosewhite vans would round herupforthecampstoo.Butsheneededtotouchbasewithherand find out her news. It’slike the old days now,wherepeople spread news face to

face.Tara suddenly

remembered talking withMaryaboutflashingalightattheir bedroom windows. Sheran for the flashlight in thekitchen, really needingsomeone to talk to as ahumanconnectionwhocouldunderstand her fear. Leebeingmostlyincoherentsincehisaccidenthadcertainlylefta void in her interpersonal

relationships. Tara realizedshe and Lee’s former “usagainsttheworld”stancehadworked fine in good times,not so much in bad. Taraneeded to know about Julie,Mary’sdaughter,andifshe’dheard anything. Mostly, sherecognized she was afraid tobealone.The lights flickeredagain,andTaraglancedupatthe kitchen fixture,apprehensively.

She trotted back upstairswith the flashlight, stood atthe window, flashing it onandoff,onandoffatMary’sbedroom. She stopped eachtime headlights passed outfront, afraid of attracting thewrongattention. Afteraboutten flashes, Tara saw thecurtainmoveandMary’spaleface peer out. Happinessflooded through her and shejumped up and down with

sheerjoy,likeachild.Marywaved,Tarawaved

back, and then the electricitywentoutforgood.

Chapter6Tara felt herway slowly

down the stairs in the dark.As she ran her hand alongone wall to balance herself,Leecalledhernamefromthefrontroom.

“I’mcoming,” shecried.“The lights went out!” Taranever realized just how darkit would be without any

streetlights shining into thefront room.Even the gaps inthe boarded up door andwindows had allowed a littlelight through. Now it waspitchblack.

“I’ve got candles andlanterns on the basementlanding,” she called to Lee.Sheheardacrash,andthenacurse.

“Dammit!”“Whathappened?”

“I knocked over mywater!”

Tara felt around on thefloorofthebasementlandingfor a lantern and somecandles.Shebroughtthemupto the stove where the rackaboveitheldmatches.Shelitthe lantern first, calmed bythe weak yellow glow.“There,” she reassuredherself.

Tara carried the lantern

in to Lee and set it on thecoffee table in front of him.Then she lit one of thecandles in its old-fashionedpewter holder, lighting herway back to the basementlanding to get the otherlanterns and lamp oil. Shecarried them back to thecoffee table, planning to fillthem all so they’d be ready.Butshereallyneededtohearfrom Mary, and hoped she

was on herway over. If not,Tara decided she wouldventureouttofindher.

Tarajumpedatthesoundofknocking—Mary!ShesawLeereachforthegunandtoldhim she’d just signaled theirneighboratthewindowasthelights went out. Lee sankbackintohispillows.

Tarathrewthedooropenwith abandon, very happy tosee her friend. Mary looked

good, but Tara noticed bagsand circles under her eyes,and they were red. She’dbeen crying. Well, she’sprobably not sleeping mucheither.

“Mary,myGod,I’mgladto see you!” Tara wrappedherarmsaroundherfriendina bear hug, and Maryreciprocated. “I’m too afraidto go out. And when youdidn’t come over, I was

worried!”Tara locked the front

door behind her, and drewMary into theTV room.Leegreeted her from the couch.He was awake and alert foronce.

“Good to see you,Mary,”hetoldher.

“How’sthelegdoing?”“Better, I think. It’s not

hurting much today. I’d liketo get off those damn pills.

I’m good for nothing whenI’monthem.”

“I know. That’s what Ihated about them too. Buthey, they certainly work forpain, Lee. May I?” Maryreached for the blanketcovering him. Lee noddedand Mary lifted it. The legwasafadedblacknowintheplaces where there had beenblue bruising before, but theswellinghadgonedown.

“I want to put on thebraceandtrytogetupsoon,”Lee said. “I don’t like beingsoincapacitated.”

“Don’t rush it, Lee.There might be more goingon there than just a break.Onlytimewilltell.”

“Mary,what’shappeningwith you? Have you heardfromJulie?Isthereanynewsfromheratall?”Taraasked.

Mary looked stricken.

“No, nothing. I should’vetried to call her. I keptthinking she would hide hercell, and call me when shecould. I was afraid to riskthemhearingitring.Butnowthe phones don’t work.”Tears welled up in Mary’seyes. “I’m so afraid forthem.”

Tara glanced quickly atLee.No, it didn’t look good,but that one glance between

her and Lee sealed theirunspoken agreement toreassure Mary to the bitterend. Tara didn’t know if itwastheright thingtodo,butit was the kindest thing.That’s all she really caredaboutatthemoment.

“I bet she’ll be released,Mary.When they realize sheandyourgrandsondon’thaveEbola, they’ll let them go.She’s probably been kept

busytakingcareofBentoo.”The hope in the older

woman’s eyes sent a stab ofguilt through Tara. Sheglanced helplessly at Lee,hoping for him to weigh in.Hedidn’tdisappoint.

“She called you on thewaythere,Mary.SoIbetyouanything the phone servicewillcomebackon,andshe’llbidehertimeuntilit’ssafetocall again.” Mary perked up

immediately, smilingat themboth.

“Ihopeyou’reright.”A loud pounding on the

front door made them jump.Lee reached for the gunagain.TarapulledMaryback,and they crouched near Leeonthesofa.

“CDC,officialbusiness,”calledadeepmalevoice.

“Don’t open it,” Leecommanded.

Tarahalfstood,hermindracing. “We have to, Lee!They can see the lanterns!Theyknowwe’reinhere.”

“No, don’t do it, Tara.It’sthesamepeoplewhotookJulie,” Mary cried. Tara rantheoptions throughherhead.She couldn’t see any othersolutionbuttoopenthedoor.

“We can’t make themsuspicious of us,” sheimplored. Finally, Lee

nodded,agreeing.“Make sure they’re who

theysaytheyarefirst.”Tara crept to the front

doorand lookedoutbetweenthe gaps in the wood. Threemen in white hazmat suitswithhoods stood there,CDCemblazoned in federal blueacrosstheirrightbreast.

She slowly unlocked thedoor and pulled it open,glancingintotheroombehind

her at Mary, standing therefrozeninshock.

“Ma’am, I’m a seniorepidemiologist from thePublic Health Preparednessand Response team of theCDC. We’re instituting adoor-to-door campaign tocontrol the spread of diseasein your area. How manypeopleareinthehousehold?”

Tara stared at the men,remote behind their face

shieldsandrespirators.“Just two of us,” she

whispered. The man behindthemwithaclipboardmadeacheck mark at thisinformation. Obviously, theyalreadyknewwholivedhere,and how many. The otherman beside the seniorepidemiologistraisedanarm,andTarasawoneofthefeverguns in his hand.He pointedit directly at Tara. She

glanced beyond them to thewhite van parked in front ofthehouse.

I hope my CrohnsDisease isn’t flaring rightnow. It often caused a slightfever. She breathed a quickprayer that her temp wasnormal. A flash of fearfollowedthis—shehadtogetLee to the door. She didn’twant them to come in.DearGod, I hope the broken leg

hasn’t caused a fever in himeither!

“You check out fine,ma’am. Please call yourhusbandtothedoor.”

TaraheardthemovementintheroombehindherasLeestruggled to get up. Sheglanced back and saw Maryhelping him, handing hiscrutchesover.

“Hehurthisleg.He’llberight here. Andmy neighbor

is visiting too.” The menstood expressionless as Taraturned to see Lee trying outhiscrutchesforthefirsttime.HehobbledovertoTara,withMary steadying him. Theyappearedinthedoorway,andthe man with the clipboardasked Mary’s name and shegaveit.

“I live right over there,”she pointed at the bungalowonthecorner.Theotherman

firedup the temperaturegun,andTaraheldherbreath.Theclipboardmanmade a checkbeside Mary’s name andaddress. Mary backed awayfrom thedoor,havingpassedthefevertest,andLeemovedforward.

Upcamethetemperaturegun.Theclipboardmanaskedhis name and Lee wascheckedoff.The temperatureman looked at the gun,

pointed it at Lee again, thenlooked at it and hit it twiceagainsthisthigh.Taraalmostpassed out. His superiorturned toward him slightly,awaiting results. Finally, theman repointed it, read it off,andgavetheallclear.

Tara began to shake, adelayed response. Hold ittogether,Tara!

The seniorepidemiologist nodded

toward them. “Thank you.We will be doing periodicchecks. Please assist us byresponding promptly to ourvisits.”

Without another word,they turnedandstarteddowntheporchstairs.Tarawatchedas they skipped the emptyparsonage next door andstarted up the steps to thenexthouse.Theyknownoonelives there now. They know

everything about us all. Sheclosed and latched the door.AsMary helpedLee back tothe couch, Tara startedcrying. She couldn’t help it.Theyweretearsofrelief.

MarygotLeesettledthentried to comfort Tara. “It’sokaynow.Wemadeit,Tara.”

“OhLee,”shesobbed,“Ithought they were going totakeyou,thatyouhadafeverfrom your leg.” Tara sank

downbesidehimonthesofa,andheputanarmaroundheras she cried quietly. Marydroppedintotheeasychairinthecorner,sighing.

“Thank God,” shewhispered. “Have you gotaspirin, Tara? I suggest wetake one a day at least fromnowon.We’llbesafeforthenextweekorso,butafterthatlet’sstart,justincase.”

Tarasniffedandwipedat

hereyes.“I’m sorry,” she

apologized,” I was so scaredtheyweregoingtotakeusallaway.Leebecauseofafeverand us because we wereexposedtohim.”

Marynodded. “Well,weknow that’s what they’redoing. God help anyone ifthey only have a cold or theflu.”

Suddenly Mary’s

daughter’s dilemma becametruly clear and real to Tara.She’d understood before, butthis really drove home howeasily your world couldchange. Tara got up andhugged the older woman.“I’m so sorry, Mary. I don’tthink I really got it untilnow.”

Marynodded.“Thanks.”“What can we do about

her?Imean,isthereanything

do you think?” Tara lookedfrom her to Lee and back.Mary sighed and shook herhead.

“Idon’tthinkthereis.Atleast not until I hearsomethingfromher.Andhowcan I do that when cellservice is out? My God, Ican’t imagine a child in thatplace!Ilovethatlittleboysomuch…” At this, Mary didbreakdowna little, andTara

put an arm around hershoulders, doing her best toconsoleher.

“Let’shopeandpray forthe best, for them both, andthat somehow you hearsomething very soon.” Marystayed a few more minutes,saidgoodbyeandTaraletheroutthefrontdoor.

Weeks passed with thestatus quo unchanged. Theweather grew cold, October

turnedtoNovember,andbothTara and Mary comparedtheir food stores uneasily.Mary worried incessantlyabout her daughter andgrandson,butstoppedtalkingabout it to Tara and Lee. Sothey began asking each day,becausetheycouldtellbythereliefonMary’sfacethatsheneeded to talk about it,speculate, and continue tohope for the best. It was the

leasttheycoulddo.~

Tara’sDiaryThanksgivingDay2015Oncethepowerwentoff,

things got real very fast. Iused to imagine a worldwithout electricity, the wayour ancestors lived back inthe1800s.Or like theAmishcommunities the next county

over were still living. In theend,eventheAmish,socloseto the “English” on a day todaybasis,weren’tsafeeither.They had constructioncompany jobs andworked inthetouristshopsandhotelsinAmishCountry,leavingthemwideopenforinfection.

Once the populationreally started spreading thevirus,thefirstwavetookhold—the dying wave. The sick

stayedhomefromwork.Thentheir families caught it fromthem,andpasseditaroundatschools, jobs, and churches.When the workers at theutility companies, grocerystores, and fast food placescaught it,mostwent toworkfor a day or two before theygot really sick. Who couldaffordtostayhome?Buttheywerestillcontagiousearlyon,andtheyspreadvirusto their

coworkers.The utilities had some

automated systems in place,and at first, the bossesbrought in temporaryworkers. However, in time,the bosses, district managersand the supervisors got sicktoo.Thenthesystembegantocollapse. Once the CEOscaught it, no one caredanymore anyway. The redwhite and blue money

machine screeched to a halt.Moneyno longermatteredatall. What mattered waswhether you had enoughsupplies to live while thevirus raged around you. Weknew it killed between fortyand ninety percent of itsvictims up until October,according to each country’slevel of health and sanitationpractices. Once the strainmutated, combining with the

commoncold, itwas a touchless lethal, but everyonecaughtit.

The doctor’s offices andhospitalsshutdownearlyon,during the first wave. Mostsmall town hospitals weredeath traps after their firstEbola patient. They had noidea what they were dealingwith,nowaytodisposeofthevoluminousamountsofsoiledbed linens and human waste

produced by each Ebolapatient. The bloody fecescouldnotbeflusheddownthetoilets—because it wouldthen contaminate the sewerplants and even possibly thegroundwater.

There was no way toprotect their doctors andnurses, let alone otherpatients, so the doctors andnursesstarteddying.Medicalprofessionals became as rare

as hen’s teeth, as myGrandmausedtosay.

There were four level-fivecontagionhospitalsintheUnited States able to dealwith Ebola. Each one heldonly eight patients. Oncethose thirty-two patientschecked in, we were on ourownouthere.Really, I thinkmost would rather die athome anyway. At least youmight have some small

chanceofsurvivingit.Lee and I watched out

the window while a gang ofmen looted the beauty parlordown the street. All we sawthem carry out were candybars and bags of chips fromthevendingmachines.That’swhattheywereafter,becauseyoucouldn’teatmoney.

Lee sat with our gun,ready, but they didn’t come.Weknowonedaytheywill.

I findmyself staringdayafter day at our dwindlingsupply of canned food. It’salmost gone now. I savedsome special stuff for ourThanksgiving meal today. Aminute ago, I watched thesquirrels scamper around ouryard. I saw a raccoon onenightouttheretoo,aswellasapossum.MystomachbeginstogrowlnowwhenIspotthesquirrels. I’ve thought of

somewaystomaketraps.I’mgoing to have to do it soon.I’mafraidtotrytoshootone,afraid to draw attention andwasteammunition.IfIgooutat all, it is very covertly. It’stoo dangerous to be seen byanyone, because it’s eitherthosewhomeanyouharm—they’llkillyouandstealyourfood—or those in charge inthe white vans who’ll takeyou to the camp to catch

Ebola. Starvation, locked inyourhouseispreferred,thankyouverymuch.

Today is Thanksgiving,and I guess I’m thankfulwe’re still alive. I wanted totreatLeeandMarysobadly.Iplanned this for so long, justtolookforwardtosomething.I saved a box of stovetopstuffing, a can of chickenwhite meat, and a sixteenounce can of chopped

tomatoes. I dumped them alltogether in a pot and stirredthem up but could see thestovetop stuffing neededmore water than the juice ofthe tomatoes would provide.SoIcarefullypouredsomeinfrom one of our lastremaining jugs. It is aspreciousasliquidgoldnow.

I covered it all and let itabsorb the liquid for half anhour, setting it on top awire

cake stand I rigged up overthecandles. Itheated slowly,but when I served it, toppedwith that shake-on Parmesancheese?Wow, heavenly.WealmostfeltlikenormalpeopleeatingaThanksgivingdinner!It was so delicious. I haveenough leftovers forLee andmetoeatthroughtomorrow.

I’vestretchedthefoodasmuch as I can. Now I don’tknowwhatwe’regoingtodo.

The squirrels are lookingbetter andbetter everyday. Ihave to figure out how tocatchthem.We’realmostoutof food,we’re just about outof water—I’m going to havetogooutandfindsomesoon.

~Taracarefullypouredthe

last fewouncesofwater intothe can of soup she was

fixing them for lunch. Sheshivered. The house wasfreezing. She didn’t knowwhat they were going to donow that winter was here.They huddled on the sofaunderblanketsandworethreeor four layers of clothes,sleeping with a pile ofbedclothes on top of them tokeep warm. But it was stillcold.AnaggingmemoryTaracouldn’t quite place kept

tugging at her mind.Something about her olduncle. Dud, they called him.Tarafocusedherthoughts.

Uncle Dud was hergrandpa’s brother. Lived toalmostonehundred,butdiedwhen she was just a younggirl. She remembered goingto his old shack where heprided himself on beingindependent. Itwasneat as apin,andhisprideandjoywas

an upright piano he wouldplayforthem.Hedidn’thavemuchmoney,buthewasveryself-sufficient doing his ownlaundry and so forth—that’sit! She remembered her dadtelling her Uncle Dud boiledwashtubsfullofwateronhissmall pot-bellied stove to dohis laundry! Her mom hadwanted that old stove whenUncleDuddied,andshesetitupintheirlivingroomduring

her Early Americandecoratingphase,withaplanton it. Tara had that stove inthe basement, buried understacks of other saved items.Wecanheatwithit,cookwithit,doitall!NowallIneediswaterandfirewood.

Tara ran to tell Lee andfoundhimhiddenunderapileof blankets, reading amagazine.His bad leg restedonthecoffeetableinfrontof

him—they knew nowsomething more was wrongthan just the break. It washealing nicely, the swellingand the pain minimal now.However, when he tried tostand andwalk on it, the legcollapsed under him. Tarathought maybe a tendon orligament was torn. Marythoughtsotoo.Leedidn’tsaymuch, but Tara could tell heknew he was pretty much

uselessnow.Hecouldn’thelpwith hardly anything. Thisjust made Tara moredeterminedtodoitall.

Tara spent a lot of timereassuring Lee thatwhen theworld came back to normalagain,hislegwasaneasyfix.She could tell this cheeredhimup.Shejusthopeditwastrue. Mary told her thatsometimes when an injurylike that was neglected too

long,theendsshriveledawayor something. Tara didn’tfully understand, but the gistof it was the damage waspermanent.Shedidn’twanttothinkaboutthat.

Lee was obsessed withthe brace Mary had broughthim, acting as though hecould cinch it tightly enoughto hold his weight and walknormally.Tarawentbackintothekitchen,andminuteslater,

heardhimfall.Sherantofindhim on the floor, cursingunder his breath, cinched-braced leg sticking out. Shedared not help him up, andbacked quietly out of theroom. There were no wordsthat would make thingsbetter.

Tara returned to thewindow, staring out betweenthe slats, watching thesquirrels.

Chapter7Tara and Lee watched

the white vans come and gofrom the windows upstairs,back and forth on the streetoutside. A few times, theysaw people in their yards.Once or twice, they caughtthe vans removing someonecloseby.Finally,sightingsoftheir neighbors up and down

the long street grew scarceand stopped altogether. Thefew cars trickled to none.Military vehicles and whitevans now claimed thethoroughfare as their own.Thatwasn’t theonly change.Sometimes at night they sawroving gangs of young men,menacing looking, hungryand lean, starvation apparenton their faces. Once theywatchedasthegangchaseda

catdown theblock, and thenTara refused to look outsideanylonger.

Marycameandwenttoo,but Tara had all but decidedto ask her to stay with themsoon. She needed to talk toLeeaboutit.Theyweresaferin numbers. They could pooltheir resources, and althoughMary was an extra mouth tofeed, she was also a hugehelp. Lee’s leg was nearly

useless and he still hobbledon one crutch. Tara neededanotherhardypersonaround.She had rationed food andwater as much as she could,and both she and Lee werethinner now. They had gonedown to splitting a can ofsoup per day. Marymentioned she was down toherlastfewcanstoo.

Itwastimetomakeatripto the river for water, and

wood for the stove. Thereweresnowflurriesyesterday,andtheywouldneedasourceof heat. She swallowed herfear as best she could whileimagining all that this mightentail. Tara was stillfrightened, but she existed ina kind of shell shock, barelyremembering the scaredy-catsheused tobe.Shehadbeenthrough a lot since thosedays.Tarahadbeguntothink

maybe that’s all couragereally was; simply becomingnumbtofear.

~Tara stood at the

cupboard looking at the loneCampbell’s Chunky Steakand Potato soup. Her mouthwatered just seeing it. Itwasthe last can and it was fortheir supper. She’d put offtalking to Lee about Mary,

but now it was time. Maryusually came over just afternoon, and she wanted to beabletoaskherthen.

Tarahappenedtoseethebook on foraging she’dbought at the yard sale whatseemed like a lifetime ago.Shepickeditupandstaredatthe delicious looking berrieson the bright front cover:Backyard Foraging by EllenZachos.Thetaglinebelowthe

title said: 65 familiar plantsyou didn’t know you couldeat.

Well, Ellen, let’s hopeyou’re right becauseotherwisewe’regonnahaveabig old plate of dead forChristmas.

Tara turned the pages,looking at the plants inside,andsuddenlyhopeflared.Wehavemanyof these!AndI’veseen others growing

everywhere. She recognizedthe chestnuts—a tree grewjustdownthealleywhereshetookherregularwalk.Yes,ofcourse, they belonged to theownerswhoseyardtheywerein, but the majority of themspilled onto the alley. Shecouldhelpherselfifsomeonehadn’talready.Awalnut treewasjustacrossthealley.

Next, she read thatacorns could be soaked and

ground into flour. She knewwhere plenty of those werelocated. Her dahlias, dug upevery year and stored in thebasement,couldbeeatentoo,tasting a lot like radishesaccording to the book. Wildgarlicgrewoutback,andthebulbs and stems could beusedlikeonions.

If she and Lee survivedthe winter, dandelions wereplentiful in their yard. Both

the leaves and blooms wereedible.Soweredaylilies.Theshoots could be eaten inspring, and the buds andpetals in summer. Tara’sheartleaptwhenshereadthattheir tubers were delicious,like fingerling potatoes infall. Tara wondered if shecould dig some up now inDecember. The book said tocoat them in olive oil, androastthemat450degrees.Of

course, they didn’t have anoven working, but Tarathought maybe they couldadaptthewoodstove.Thatis,ifLeecouldget ithookedupandshecouldrustleupsomefirewood.

Next, she looked at themushroom section andrealized they had an ediblemushroom growing right ontheir tree. The book said thebest way to avoid poisonous

ones, was to avoid any withgills.Stickwithstrictlyporesand “teeth” on theirunderside. That was simpleenoughtoremember.

Her mom had given herthe ground cover planted allaroundtheirhouse.NowTaralearneditwasedible:BishopsWeed.Theaggressivegrowerhad to be trimmed backfrequently. The variegatedgreenandwhite leavescould

be eaten as a salad, or usedlike spinach in a pita or pie.They’d also planted manyhostas all around their shadyyard, and apparently everyvariety was edible too,shoots, leaves and flowers.Their lacy ostrich ferns, thespiderwortplantat theirbacksteps, the Rose of Sharon’sleaves and flowers, and therose hips on Tara’s prizerosebush—allcouldbeeaten.

Even the berries from thebright red cones on thosescraggly roadside Sumacbushes were edible. Whoknew?Tarawasexcitednow.It wasn’t as hopeless as shethought.

I can do this! Tarablessed the little voice thattold her to buy this book.Theywerenotgoingtostarveif she could help it. Sheglancedbackoutat theblack

and gray squirrels diggingthrough the leaves coveringthe daylily tubers andnarrowed her eyes. All betswereoffnow.Theywerenotonly competition for food—theywerefood.

~Tara closed the foraging

bookandpeekedout throughthe slats. A huge cloud ofsmoke spiraled up above thetreestothewest.Shediverted

hereyes,notwantingtothinkabout it. They had onlyrecently begun seeing thegiant smoke plume rising intheneardistance.Itcontinueddayandnight,thickandgraywith billows of whiteoccasionally. There was astrangesmellintheairtoo,amixture of burningmeat andcharredwood.

“They’re burning thebodiesinthegravelpit.”Lee

hadtoldher.Tarahadshakenherhead,slowlyatfirst, thenfaster and faster, trying toforce that image from hermind,togobackbeforeithadbeen placed there. But eversince, all she could envisionwas an Auschwitz-likescenario; frail bodies stackedlikecordwood,theovens—orin this case the bonfire—failing to keep up with theenormityofthetaskathand.

She found Lee in thebasement with the old stove,readyingitforuse.

“Ithinkit’stimetoinviteMary to stay here with us,Lee.”He laiddown theclothhe’d been cleaning with andleaned against the crutch.“Yeah, I’ve been thinkingabout that for a while now,butdidn’twant tomention ityet. I believe both sideswouldbenefit.”

“I’m going to ask herthen, as soon as she comesover today.” Tara leaned herhead on his shoulder andwrapped her arms aroundhim. He closed his warmhandoverhers.

“I’m going to go to theriverforwater,Lee,andhuntfor some food. We needfirewood too. Is the stoveready?”

Lee nodded. “Yes, I

think it’s vented out okay,and all systems are go.” Hedrew back, searching hereyes. “I hate for you toventure out withoutme. Toomuchcouldgowrong.”

Tarasighed.“Iknow,butthere’s no choice. We’reeating our last can of souptoday, and we’re almost outof water too. Mary can gowithme.We’ll take the gun.And we won’t take any

chanceseither,Ipromise.”Tara told him about the

foragingbook,andhowtherewere many things to eat ifthey just searched them out.She also asked him to thinkabout some sort of trap hecouldmake for squirrels andrabbits.Shesawhisfacelightup and knew he felt usefulagain.Designingatrapwouldgivehimaproject,aswellasself-esteem.

Just then, they heardknocking upstairs and Tararan up to check the door. ItwasMary, and Tara usheredherinside.

“I’ve got something torun by you, Mary.” First, itwas rudenot to enquire afterher. “How are you doing?Anynews?”

“None.“How are you doing on

food?”

“I think I have two cansof corn and one can of soupleft.”Tara imagined the cornsimmering in a pot with thesoup and daylily tubers andherstomachgrowled.

“How’s your watersupply?”

“Gone, except for thetub, which I filled up beforeeverythingstarted—it’sdownto an inch ofwater too dirtytodrink.”

“Yeah. We’re about outofwaternowtoo,andourlastcan of soup will be usedtonight.Wewant to ask youto move in with us here,Mary.” Tara lowered hervoice so Lee couldn’t hearher in the basement. “I needyourhelp,andI thinkthere’ssafety in numbers. So doesLee.”

“I’m glad to hear Leeagreed.” Mary smiled. “I’ve

been thinking the same thingto be honest. So, yes, I’d behappy to.” Tara jumped upfrom her chair and huggedher,talkingfast.

“We need to go to theriver,Mary,togetwater,andIcanfilter it inourpurifiers.We need firewood for thestove.We need to trap someanimalstoeat,anddigtubersup and…” Tara stopped andburst out laughing atMary’s

startledexpression.Itfeltliketeenage sleepover night withher best friend, and shehadn’t been this happy for alongtime.Marylaughedlongandhardthentoo.

“This is a good thing,Tara, a very good thing,”Marysaid,noddingherhead.“I was starting to get scaredover there.” After Tara toldher about the things they’dseen from the upstairs

windows, Mary hadn’t comeover as often. At least thedaylight hours seemed safer.Now they would all betogether to protect oneanother. They would eitherwaitouttheendoftheworld,orgodownfighting.

“Mary, go home andgather your stuff. I can helpyoucarryitoverifyouneed.Bring those cans of corn—Ihave an idea for some stew,

and I think itmightbe reallygood.”Leecameupstairsjustthen,andtoldMaryhowgladhewasshewasjoiningthem.

“We’llallbetogetherforChristmas, which is as itshould be,” Tara told themboth.

Mary left to collect herthings,Leewentbackintothebasement to start on a trap,andTarasnuckoutbackwiththesmallgardenshoveltodig

upsomedaylilytubers.~

Mary made several trips

acrossthestreet,stackingherbelongings on Tara’s frontporch. By the time Taracarriedinhersmallbasketofdaylily tubers, Mary hadfinished. Tara wiped off herdirt-coveredhandsandhelpedher bring it all inside andstore it in a corner. Mary

showedherasilverpistolandseveralboxesofammunition.

“Yourgunisbiggerthanmine,”Tarajoked.

“Let’shopeIneverneedtouseit,”Maryreplied.

Mary carried the cansofcorn into the kitchen whereTara stood at the sink,scrubbing the tubers andlaying them out on a papertowel todry.Maryheldupabottleofredwine.“Ithought

thiswouldbesuitablefor theoccasion.”

“Wine! Mary, that’sperfect!” Tara rooted in thedrawer for a corkscrew andhanded it to their newroommate.Shepointedat thepaper towel. “Look, Mary,these are like little potatoesaccording to the foragingbook.” Most of the tuberswere small, about half thesize of Tara’s little finger.

“Wehave quite a few in ouryard alone, and I knowseveral other places wheretheygrowwild.”

Lee came into thekitchen, a big smile on hisface. “The stove’s ready. Ialready filled it with somewood scraps and kindling. Iwanted to see if you werereadytocooksomething.”Hehovered over her work area,obviouslyhungry.

Tara clapped her handstogether in excitement andMary and Lee both laughed,caught up in her elation.“We’re going to have aspecial dinner in Mary’shonor. I’ve got a plan forMary’sandour last twocansofsoupandhercorn.I’vegotdaylily tubers too. We’regoing to have shaved Dahliaroot salad, lightly seasonedwitholiveoilandherbs,anda

main course of CelebrationStew.”Tarasaidasshepulledout a large pot from thecupboardunderthesink.

“And look what elseMary brought, a bottle ofwine. It’s a specialoccasion!”

Lee took the matches tolightthefireinthepot-belliedstove.TaraaskedMarytogetthe fine crystal wine glassesdown from the glass front

cabinet.Taraopenedhercanof steak and potato soup,Mary’s twocansof corn andher can of bean with baconsoup. Mary pulled the corkfromthewinenext.Taratookit from her, shrugged, anddumpedabigdollop into thepot.

“Think of it as BeefBourguignon!” Tara laughed.She added the washed andcleaned tubers and stirred it

with a long spoon, thendipped a finger in and tastedit.

“Mmm,” she nodded atMary. They were all sohungry.Thiswasatruefeast.Maybe it wasn’t wise to useup the last four cans of foodat once, but Tara knew theywould make a couple mealsout of the stew. Plus, itwasn’t so damn depressingthis way, watching the cans

godownonebyoneoverthenext couple days. Might aswell get it overwith, and gooutwithabang.

Mary wiped the crystalglassescleanandlifteddownthe best crystal soup bowls.She carefully poured thewine, and carried the glassestothediningroomtable.Taracarried the full pot carefullydown the basement stairs.Thesmellofwoodsmokehit

her, and she saw Lee seatedon an old wooden kitchenchair in front of the pot-bellied stove with the dooropen, poking at the burningwoodinside.

“You’ll pee the bed,”Tara laughed, repeating oneof her grandma’s infamoussayings. It was what she’dalways said if any of thegrandkidsplayedwithfire.

Tara set the largepoton

topthestove,marvelingatitsancient efficiency. Theformerly freezing-coldbasement was warmingnicely. The large stovepipewent up the wall and ventedout the window, where Leehad replaced the glass bynailing a perfectly cut pieceofwoodwith ahole in it forthe pipe. She smiled at himadmiringly. “Nice.” Hegrinned with pride and

continued poking. She wasglad he felt useful. The legthing was bothering himbadly.

Tara ventured into thesmall dirt-floored roombehind Lee, the root cellar,where old wooden shelvesheldherdahlia tubers. Itwasmuchcoolerinhere.Shetookthebasketfullofdahliarootsbackup to thekitchenwhereMary was busy gathering

table settings. Tara dug herpotato peeler from thesilverwaredrawer.

She scrubbed thedahliasfirstandlaidthemonatowel.Then she peeled the outerlayer, tookdown threeprettycrystal plates, and shaved asmall pile onto each one. Adollop of olive oil, salt andpepper, a dash of dried dillweed,andTaratastedasmallsliver.

“Not bad,” she said toMaryasshewalkedbackintotheroom.

“Ooh, it looks good,”Mary replied. They carriedthesaladstothediningtable.

“It says you can makebreadoutof these too,Mary.Ican’twaittotryit!”

Tarawent back down tothe stew with her longwooden spoon. Lee wasstanding over it, breathing in

the delicious aroma waftingup.“Wow,thissmellsgood,”hesaid.

“Mmm, it does.” Shetook the lid off the pot andstirred it. The stove was sohot, it was already bubbling,and the basement room wastoastywarmnow.

“I know where we’regoing to be in the dead ofwinter,” Lee told her. Helooked up at the ceiling.

“Actually,heatmaycomeupthroughtheventsifIpullthefurnace pipes away. I mightjusttrythat.”

Tara stirred the stew afewmore times and declaredit done. She picked it up bythe handles with potholders,and Lee followed her slowlyup the steps leaning on hiscrutch. Tara filled the soupbowls in the kitchen andMarytooktwointothedining

room,whereLeehadalreadyseatedhimself.Theglassesofwine were sparkling in thelantern light, the saladslookeddelicious,andasTaracarried her steaming bowl tothetable,itstruckheragainathow good this all was.Somehow, having anotherpersonhereismorecheerful.

Tara seated herself, andraised her glass to herneighbor.“I’dliketopropose

a toast to Mary, our friendand new housemate. Thankyouforeverything,andhere’stothegoodolddaysreturningsoon. May God bless yourlovedonesandallofustoo.”

Mary misted up a littleover the reference to herdaughter and grandson, butshe raised her glass to themboth, and Tara could see hergratitude.

All at once, the lights

flashed on, and all three ofthem jumped. “Hallelujah!”Tarayelled.

Lee andMary sat frozenin place as the electricimmediately went off again.It came on one more time,and all three of the dinerswaited in silence to see if itwouldstay.Itdidn’t.

“Maybe they’re workingon the electric grid. It’s agood sign,” Lee speculated.

The women nodded, butTara’s good mood wassomewhat curtailed. It was astark reminder of their truesituation. She forced herselfto shake it off and enjoy thecelebration.

The wine was the mostdelicioustheyhadevertasted,and the stew was too. Thesalad was a little different,similar to radishes, but alsoverygood.

“I’d like to propose atoast to the author of thatforaging book. It may justsave us!” Tara laughed andthey joined in. “Here’s toyou, Ellen, wherever youare!”

They continued to eat,laugh, and toast even sillierthingsuntilthebottleofwinewasempty,andtheywerealltipsy. “It’s almost eighto’clock, announced Mary.

Then at Tara’s puzzledexpression,sheexplainedthather daughter always calledher at exactly eight o’clockeachnight.Maryhadenoughbatterylefttoleaveherphoneon for a few minutes eacheveningateightinhopesofamiracle. Tonight, she wasespeciallyexcitedbecausetheelectric had flashed onbriefly.

“One of these times, if

Julie is doing the same eachnight, and the electric justhappenstocomeon—voila—the cell towers might justtransmitasignal.”

Tara smiled and praisedMary’s ingenuity, butpersonally thought it was astretch.Ittrulywouldhavetobeamiracle.

Afterdinner,Leetampeddown the fire in the stove,while Tara carefully carried

the stew pot upstairs. Sheopened the window and setthe pot gently on the porchroof, putting a couple bricksontoptokeepanimalsout.Itwas chilly, perfect forrefrigeration.

They readied for sleepthen, withMary on the sofa,TaraandLeeontheinflatablebed in front of the coffeetable. Tara was tired andtomorrowwasabigday.She

planned to take Maryforaging and to the river,whichranjustonthefarsideof the gravel pit and the oldKmart. It would be tricky,getting water and firewood.First, they would search forfood, hitting up the walnutandchestnuttreesinthealleythatTaraalwayswalkedpast.She hoped the trip wasfruitfulandproductive.

They all said goodnight

toeachother,andMaryblewout the lantern on the coffeetable,thankingthemagainforinviting her to stay. Lee andTara both told her theyweregratefulsheagreedtoit.Tarathought maybe she was toonervous about tomorrow tosleep, but instead the winehad mellowed her. Shedropped off immediately anddidn’t hear a thing untilmorning.

Chapter8When Tara woke, Lee

was already up. Mary wastoo.Taraheardsoundsinthebasement and finally Lee’sfootsteps climbing the stairs.Heappearedat thedoorwithabagfullofstuffloopedoverthe crook of his arm. Shemust have worn a puzzled

expression,becausehebeganexplaining.

“It’s for a squirrel trap.”He pulled out several itemsfrom inside. An empty toiletpaperroll,andastick.Underhis arm was a long woodenslatalittlewiderthanaruler.

“Idon’tget it,howdoesitwork?”

Leecrossedslowlytothecupboardwhereanear-emptypeanut butter jar sat. There

wasstillpeanutbutterresidueinside, but not much. Heopened it, rubbing his fingeraround inside the rim, tryingtogeteverylastbit.Hewipedthegooeystuffontheoutsideof the toilet paper roll,continuing to do this until itwascoatedwiththestuff.Thesmell of peanut butter filledthekitchen.

ThenLee stuck the stickthroughtheroll,holdingitup

toshowTara.Hehelduptheslatwithhisotherhand.“Thestickwiththetoiletpaperrolllays across the top of thefifty-five gallon drum outback. The slat leans againstthe side of it, making awalkway up to the stick.“Voila,”heannouncedwithasweep of one arm. “Thesquirrelwalksoutonthesticktogetthepeanutbutterontheroll, it spins and he falls in

the drum. He can’t get out,becauseit’stootall.”

“Wow, will it work?”Tarabarelythoughtaboutthecruelty of killing squirrelsnow.Theywerestarving.

Lee shrugged, grinning.“Ithinkso.”Hetookthetrapmaterialsoutbacktosetup.

TarafoundMaryupstairsin the library, looking at allheroldreadingmaterial.

“I found your knitting

books!Andyou’vegot a tonof yarn in the closet, Tara.I’m thinking of making youboth hats and scarves forChristmas.”

“That would befabulous!” Tara told her thesupplies had been from her“learn to knit” phase. Sheexplained that Lee wassetting up a squirrel trap outback. They walked to thewindow and looked out over

the balcony. Tara could seeseveral squirrels watchingLeefromthetrees.

“I feel bad killing them,Mary,butwehavetoeat.I’vefedthemforsomanyyears—now they can feed us. Mynew mindset is acceptingeach gift with gratitude, soI’m grateful for them. I justhope the trap works. I alsohopetheydon’tcarryEbola.”

“I’vebeenthinkingabout

ourtriptotheriver,howbestto carry wood and water. Ithink we should go at dusk,remain out of sight as muchaspossible,”Marysaid.“Buttoday,wecouldgosearchforthewalnutsandotheredibleswhileit’sstilldaylight.Ifweseeanyone,wejustrun.”

Tara thought about this.Yes, it made sense to go forthe water after dark. Waterand wood were so important

they each needed their ownseparatetriptogetasmuchaspossible between the two ofthem.Thethoughtoflookingfor tonight’s supper intriguedher, sort of a man againstnature thing. If they didn’tfind food today, they wouldgo hungry. It was a greatmotivator.

“Mary, let’sgoand lookforstuffnow.Areyouready?First, let’s study the book.

Maybe what one of us can’tremember,theotherwill.”

They walked to thekitchen andTarawent to thewindow. Lee was still outback setting up the squirreltrap.Shedidn’twanttoknowhow he dispatched theanimals. As long as hepresented the meat to her,cleaned and ready, Tara wasokaywith it.She sighed. It’sa matter of survival. They

perused the pictures in thebook for a fewminutes, andthendecidedtogo.

“You can eat crabapplestoo,” Tara told her as theypulled their coats on. “And Iknowwhereatreeisnearby.”Tara stuck the gun in herpocket and stuffed severalplastic bags into a carryalltype tote bag she slung overoneshoulder.Maryhadabagtoo, and took one of Tara’s

kitchen knives from thewooden block. The womenexitedthebackdoorandTaragrabbed a small hand trowelon the porch and stuck it inher bag too.They stopped tosee Lee as he was finishingthetrap.

“Maybe when you getback,we’llhavesomemeat,”Lee told them.Tara laughed,andLeehuggedher.Heheldherawayamoment,aserious

expressiononhisface.“Pleasebecareful.”Tara

nodded.“We’re staying close

around the neighborhood toforage. Tonight, we’ll go totheriver.”

As she andMary startedtoward her parked car, Leecalled to her, asking if shewasgoingtotakethevehicle.Tara was torn. She didn’twant to draw the wrong

attention, and so few carswere on the streets now thatshe thought itwouldbesaferto walk. Just as Tara passedthelowfencearoundMarla’sbackyard,shenoticedthepileof firewood for their pitstackedagainstit.

“Look!” she cried. Leecrossed slowly over to them,swinging his bad leg and thecrutch.Heimmediatelybegantossing the wood onto their

sideofthefence.“Thanks,Frank,”hesaid

softly.“Yes,” Tara agreed.

“We’llbebacksoon,honey,”shetoldLee.

The weather was brisk,butnotfreezing,aboutthirty-five degrees as they set offdownthealley.“Let’sgogetsome nuts first. The chestnutand walnut trees are almostdirectly across from each

other.”Mary stayed beside her

as they walked. “Let’s hopethe squirrels didn’t get themallfirst.”

Tara couldn’t help butremember her walks not solongago inherold life.Thiswas her route, and she’dgrown to know where dogswere located, which familieshadkidsorwereelderly,andwhohadfirepits.Thismight

helpwithfirewoodcollectionlateron.

Tarakepthereyespeeledforsignsoflife,butsawveryfew.Shehalf-hopedifsheraninto anyone they wouldrecognizeherandsharesomenews, since she’d alwaysspokenasshepassedthroughthe neighborhood. Everyhouse they went by had adeadqualitytoit,deserted.

“MyGod,Mary,didthey

alldie?”Maryreleasedherbreath

in a frozen cloud. “Died ortakentothecamp.”

Tara stared at her,speechless. She could barelycomprehend the enormity ofsuch a loss. Theywalked onin silence for a few moreminutes.

Taracaughtmovementinone of the yards up ahead.She silently grasped Mary’s

forearm, warning her. Tarawasonhighalertandreadytorun until she remembered. “Ithinkanoldmanlivesthere,”she hissed. They approachedstealthily,andTara’smemorywas immediately confirmed.Theelderlymanwashunchedover, staring down into hiswinter-blasted garden,pushing smashed, witheredtomatoes around on theground with the tip of his

cane.“Hello, sir,” Tara called,

just loud enough for him tohear. She didn’t want toattract the wrong kind ofattention from any possiblethreats nearby. The oldgentleman glanced up atthem, seeming to assess thelevel of danger, then gavethemaonehundredmegawattsmile.Tarawassogratefultosee another friendly human

being,sherushedovertohim,trippingonafrozenclumpofgrass and almost landing athis ancient feet. She caughtherself, but almost knockedhimdown.

“Whoa there, girlie,” hechuckled. Mary came upbehindher,laughing.

“I’m so sorry. I almostbowledyouover! I’mjustsogladtoseesomeoneelse!”

“It’s okay,my dear. I’m

glad to see both of you too.There’s nothing but gangs ofhoodlumsgoingpastlately.”

Tara looked over hershoulder, suddenly cognizantof her surroundings and thegravity of the situation. Shehadn’t seen the gangs for afew days, but that didn’tmeantheyweren’tthere.

“This is my neighbor,Mary, and I’m Tara Green.WeliveoveronMainStreet.”

She pointed back thedirection they had come.Mary shook the man’s handandTarafollowedsuit.

“My name is Clyde,Clyde Randall. I been hereseventy oddyears in this oldhouse. I’m ninety-five andneverthoughtI’dseethedaywe’dbeinsuchafix.”

“Oh, Mr. Randall, Itotallyagree,”Marysaid.

“Are you getting along

okay, Mr. Randall? We’vecome out to forage for somefood.Ifoundabookthattellsabout all thewild things youcaneataroundyouryardandneighborhood.We’verunoutof cans at home now.” Taradidn’t know why she wasconfessingalltothisoldman,but he reminded her of hergrandpa.

“It’s Clyde, and I’mdoingtolerable.Ialwayskept

a garden and put up thevegetables—learned to dothatasaladbyMother’sside.Necessity is the mother ofinvention, as they say,especially when livingthroughtheGreatDepression.Them was some hard times,letmetellyou,butitweren’tnevernothinglikethis.”

Tara and Mary bothnodded, and Tara decided toshare her newfound

information. “I learned youcaneatalotofthingsIneverknew, like daylilies andacorns.

“Oh, my land, yes, thegood Lord provides; that hedoes. You wouldn’t believethe things a body can eat ifthey’re hungry enough. I’veseen men eat shoe leather.”Helookedbackdownat his garden again, pushingon a tomato husk with his

cane.Nothingmuchwas leftofitbutthedriedskin.

“I was thinking ofmaking a broth with thisleftover stuff.” He pointedwithhiscaneatasprigortwoof broccoli still sticking up.“There’s some good stock tobehadhereyet.”

Clyde turned to themagain,a smile lightinguphisseamed face. “What newsdoyougirlshave?”

“We were hoping youmight have some. I don’tknow anything, except myhusband says those bonfiresback there are them burningbodies at the old Kmart.Welooked over the embankmentatthegravelpitandsawit’sacamp now. So we need tohide from them too, not justthegangs.”

“I’vegotmyoldGibsonGirl radio from WW2.

There’s a group of us acrossthe country that collect ‘em.They’re hand cranked, sotheydon’tneedno‘lectricity.I’m still getting news from afew, those that haven’t died,that is.” The oldman lookedwistful, staring out past thealley with his faded blueeyes.

Tara could feel Mary’ssudden tension at thisinformation.

“What are your friendssaying?”

“There’s one man inSeattle, one in Arizona,anotherinMinnesotaandme.That’sallthat’sleftofus,theGibson Girl Radio Club.They’re saying everyone’sdead. The power grid isdown.No surprise there,” hechuckled.“Andtheonlyoneswho survived are those whoholedupagainstthevirusand

stored food and supplies.They’resayingitsmartiallawin their towns. We have towaititout,‘tilthevirusburnsitself out in the population.”He shook his head, andTaracouldn’t help but notice theblue veins through the frailpaper-likeskinofhisneck.

“Clyde,somehavemadeit. I don’t know how many,butsome.SoIpraywemakeittoo.Allofus.”Shegazedat

him sadly and the old guynodded.

“Willyoubeoutherefora little bit? I’d like to dropyouoffsomeofwhateverwecan find.” He was skin andbones,andTarawasafraidhewould starve to death. Shecouldn’thavethat.

“God bless you,” Clydesaid,takingherhand.

His news wasdevastating, but she hated to

leavehim.Taraalreadyknewthings were bad, but hadhoped it was just their area,since it was the site of aninitialoutbreak.

AssheandMarywalkedaway down the alley, sheturnedbackoncetoseeClydestill standing there pickingthrough the leftovers in hisdead garden. It made herhearthurt.

“The trees are right up

here.”As theyapproached, two

squirrels scampered away.First, thewalnut treewas ontheir left, and it was a hugeone.Thereweresomanynutsin a crop this large, thesquirrels couldn’t get themall. Tara and Mary lookedtoward the rear of the housewhose backyard faced thealley. Technically, they werestealing their walnuts, but

theysawnosign thatanyonehad gathered any. First, Tarapicked up all the ones in thealley.Usuallyeachyeartherewasamessinthisspotwhenshe walked past; smashedwalnuts and skinseverywhere.Notthistime.Nocars are coming throughanymoretosquashthem.

They gathered at least ahundred walnuts. Tara knewshewould have to stomp the

green outer skins off, and“float” them, a trick she’dlearned fromher grandma. Ifshe could get some riverwater, you dropped the nutsinto it and not only did thebugs come out, but the nutsthat floated were bad. Thenthenutswouldhavetobelaidout to dry for two or threeweeks. Since water wasscarce, they might have toskipthefloatingstep.

A few houses down, thechestnut tree spread itsbranches out over the alley.Again,therewerenosignsoflife from any of the housesaround it. Tara wondered ifpeople were hiding in theirhomes.Surely,someof themhad prepared at least a little,as she,Mary andClyde had.Taramentioned this toMary,and she shrugged hershoulders.

“I don’t know, Tara, I’dsaymost didn’t. And if theyhad kids, they probablyspread the virus to them.Only those of uswho stayedhome at just the right timeduring the outbreaksurvived.”Shewasquietforamoment. “I haven’t heardfrom my neighbor Anna,either. I’m afraid she didn’tmake it.” Tara absorbed thisinfo, knowing Mary was

probablyright.“Mary, look! What did

the book say aboutmushrooms that grew ontrees?Thatlooksliketheoneinthepicture!”

Just a couple trees downfromthechestnutwasasmallgroveofoldoaks,andalargeorange fungusgrew from thebaseofone.“That’saHenofthe Woods mushroom! It’shuge!”

Tarawasexcitedbytheirbounty on the first trip out.Maryfirsthelpedherfindthespiny, partially openchestnuts that were still lefton the ground. She put thoseinoneofTara’splasticbags.All in all, there were maybetwenty-five chestnuts in theharvest.

Next, theymoved to theoak trees, andMary tookoutthe sharp kitchen knife and

sliced a large chunk of thefungusoffthetree.Shehadtodivide it up between boththeir bags it was so big,nearly two and a half feetlong.

“I can’t wait to cookthis!” Mary giggled. Shefinished distributing themushroom and crouched togather acorns next. “I cangivesomeofthistoClydeonthewayback,”Taratoldher.

“We’relikeacouplekidsat Christmas, Mary!” Thatwas okay, Tara thought.They’d been through somuch,itwasnicetohavefun.She wasn’t even worriedabout the white vans, thingswere so quiet here in theneighborhood. She figuredthey must be off about theirownbusiness.

Tara led the way to thecrabapple tree she

remembered on the nextstreetover.Therewasstillnosign of life anywhere. Theycarefully picked some of theremaining small fruit fromthe tree and salvaged whatthey could on the ground.Therewasmoreleftforlater.They loopedaround,headingback, and Tara spotted acouple gardens on the way.She helped herself to a fewgreen tomatoes still on the

vines of one, and two smallpumpkinsatanother.Arustedyard cart, the wheels intact,sat abandoned near thesecond one. Tara decided totake it, promising herselfwhen things got back tonormal,shewouldreturnittoits rightful owners. If theywerestillalive,thatis.Itwassturdy and ruggedly built, abonusfind.

Thewomen’ssackswere

bulging now, and they setthem in the cart and madetheir way home. Tara wasexhilarated yet sad that theyhad not seen one singlepersonbesidesClyde.Maybethey were hiding, but Taradidn’tgetasenseofthat.Thehouses stared back at them,blank and expressionless, asthough their lifeblood haddrainedaway. Iwonderwhatcanned food is in there.This

thoughtoccupiedTaraall thewayhome.

TheydetouredtoClyde’shouseandhewaswaitingforthem on a bench beside hisgarden. Tara dug out a largechunkofmushroomfromherbag, and Mary gave himsome chestnuts and walnuts,as well as a few crabapples.He thanked them graciously,andaskedthemtocomeback.Tarapromisedtheywould.

On the final leg of thetrip home, the gray plumeofsmoke rose ominously in thedistance, and Tara kept hereyes fastened to it. That’swherewe’reheadedtonight.

~Commander Brent

“Brick”Meyers stood gazingout the large picturewindowoverlooking the Kmartparking lot. His headquarters

in the second floor of thehuge building kept him farenough away from theinfected to be safe, but closeenough to be at the heart oftheaction,asheliked.Asoftknockat thedoor jerkedhimout of his angry reverie. Itwas time to rip somebody anew one, and this pansy-assdoctor,Clemons,wasit.

“Come in, Doctor.”Meyersstoodramrodstraight,

hisangledjawclenched,eyesnarrowed.Hetookinthedoe-eyed,heavy-setdoctorbeforehiminonedismissiveglance.A fat slug.Meyers regrettedputting him in charge of thecamp hospital, but doctorswere at a premium. Luckily,hehadanotherideanow.

“I understand you wantto slow the donationprocess?”

The doctor seemed to

cringe slightly under hisverbal onslaught. He clearedhis throat softly,apologetically almost, andMeyerswanted topunchhimin the Adam’s apple andwatchhimchoketodeath.

“My recommendationswere no more than twice aweek, Commander. Ourpatients are suffering fromdehydration after survivingthevirus.Donatingmorethan

twice a week causes plateletdepletion,weaknessandevenmore dehydration. They’redizzy, they fall, and theybleed a lot from minorinjurieswithout theability toclot. It can’t go on, we’relosingtoomany.”

Meyers felt his faceredden and the vein in themiddle of his forehead swellup. Fists clenched, hestruggled to control his rage

as thedoctorwatchedhim ingrowingalarm.

“That doesn’t concernyou. What should concernyouaremyorders.Period.”

“I took an oath, theHippocraticOath,toneverdoharm. And your orders areharming—no, they’re killingthem.”

“That will be all, Dr.Clemons,thankyou.”Theicycold tone of Meyers’ voice

dismissed the doctor. Heturned and left the room.Another knock soundeddirectly after. A large manwith a shaved head and rollson his thick neck stuck hisface in the door, eyebrowsraisedinquestion.

“Take care of that,”Meyersannounced.Theheadretreated with a quick nod.Meyers turned back towardthe window, planning the

next stage in his operation.We’re going to need a lotmorepeople.

Chapter9Leewasnowhereinsight

when they got back to theyard.AsTarawalkedpastthefifty-five gallon drum, shepeeked in, noticing the stickand peanut-butter-slatheredtoilet paper roll were nowinside it. Maybe he caughtsomething!

The women lifted their

heavy sacks out of the cartand carried them into thehouse. Lee was at the sink,andTaracaughtaglimpseofa bloody pile of fur in theplastic garbage bag on thecounter. There was a platesittingtheretoo,andonitwasaneatlystackedpileofmeat.There were also severalcontainers of water. Leeturned with a smile. “We’regoingtoeattonight!”

“We sure are.Great job,honey. Where’d the watercomefrom?”

“I suddenly realized Icould drain the pipes, duh.”Leelaughedathimself.“Youopenthehighestfaucetinthehousejustenoughtotakethesuctionoff theline, thenturnon the lowermost faucet andcollectthewater.”

Tarawas thrilled, a littlemorewatertoworkwith.Lee

had already emptied theirtoilet tank and water heaterearly on to collect what wasthere.

“Lookatallthisstuffwegot.” She and Mary emptiedtheir sacks on the counter,and Tara began sorting nutsinto plastic bags. “We foundtomatoes, pumpkins, nuts,mushrooms, acorns, andcrabapples.It’sanotherfeast!PluswestillhaveCelebration

Stewleft.”“Too bad we drank all

the wine,” Mary chimed in.They all laughed. Mary’scomment was punctuatedwith the overhead lightsflashing back on. Maryechoed Tara’s quick gasp.Lee held up one handpatiently,waiting to see howlongitwouldlastthistime.Itwas almost a full minutewhile they stood quietly

staringateachother.Finally,thekitchenfixtureflickeredacouple times, and faded out.They all exhaled, and Mary,almostalwaysoptimisticsaid,“One of these times it willstay!”

Tara told Lee all aboutClyde and his Gibson GirlWW2 radio. Lee looked sadwhen she relayed theinformation that the entirecountry was experiencing

similar conditions. She gaveLee a hug. Having alreadysomewhat resigned herself tothis news, he was the oneneeding comforting now.Foodwas thebestway todothat.

“Letmethinkabouthowto make a meal with this,”Tarasaid.

Lee started down thebasement stairs to stoke thestove. She called down after

him. “And Lee, pour somedisinfectant on your handsafter handling that squirrelmeat just in case. I plan tocook it very well done. Iguess we’ll soon find out ifsquirrels carry Ebola. If wedon’t kill it by cooking—itwill be about a week,” Taratold them. Lee shuddered.Mary looked frightened andchangedthesubject.

“Tara,I’mgoingtorinse

and chop the crabapples. I’mthinking some dessert wouldbe really nice—CrabappleBread sounds pretty good tome.”

“Ooh, it does! Thebaking stuff is in thecupboard, Mary,” Tarapointed to the pantry. Shewasgladshehadboughtalotofflour,sugarandtherestatthe dollar store that day.Therewasplentyof that left.

She imagined it would behard to survive on just sugarand flour, but it could bedone. Luckily, since she’dfound the foraging book, itwouldn’thavetobedone.

“But we don’t have anyeggs!”

“Oh, we don’t need anyeggs, my dear. I have a fewtricks up my sleeve,” Marytoldher.

“Teach me,” Tara

laughed. “Let me get thismeat ready first.” The olderwoman smiled and agreed,gatheringtheflour,sugarandotheringredients.

Tara rinsed the meat,green tomatoes andmushrooms,thencubedthem.Shearranged it all in an ironskillet with a little olive oilandtookitdowntosetonthewoodstove.

Tara returned to find

Mary measuring outingredients. “I don’t knowhow this is gonna workwithoutanoven,butIthinkIcan make it in a skillet,”Marytoldher.

Tara stood watching asMary explained. “Here’s abasicsweet-breadrecipeTara—onecupof sugar,maybealittle more for these tartcrabapples. Two cups offlour, a half cup of

shortening, two teaspoons ofsalt,andateaspoonofbakingsoda.Mixthattogethergood.Now in place ofmilk, add acouple tablespoons of waterto replace it.Milk is actuallyeighty-seven percent water.”Mary winked at Tara. “ItaughtaHomeEc.classoncefor about a year.” Shecontinued to measure andmix. “And for each egg, twoteaspoons of baking powder,

twoteaspoonsofwaterandatablespoon of oil willsubstitute.Weneed twoeggsforthis,sowe’lldoublethat.”Mary added the ingredients.“Finally, in go our two cupsofchoppedcrabapples.Mixitalltogetherintheskillet,andwe’rereadytogo!”

Tara stirred the batch ofdough.“Ican’twaittotryit!”Shesmoothed itdown flat inthepanandsprinkled the top

with sugar. She carried itdown to the stove, alreadysmellingthewonderfularomaof the meat and mushroomscooking.Leewastendingthefire and stirring the fryingfood. When he caught aglimpse of the pan, his eyesgrewbig.

“Mmm,isthatacake?”Tara laughed. “Well,

thanks to Mary’s cookingskills, it’s going to be the

closest thing to a cake wehave at the moment—CrabappleBread!”

Maryjoinedthemaroundthe cook-stove. Tara tookover until themeatwas verywelldone,andtheyalleyedithungrily. Tara poured asmall amount of water intothe pan, then sprinkled a bitof flour into themeat juices,and stirreduntil anicegravybegantothicken.“Let’sleave

thisbreadheretobakeandgoeat!”

Mary and Lee followedTara upstairs to the kitchen.Shedishedout themealwithher mouth watering. Thistime, they gathered at thekitchen island, a little closertothebasementsoTaracouldcheckonthedessert.

“This is so damn good,”Lee said, chewing his firstmouthful. Tara tried not to

think of the little squirrelsshe’d fed for somany years.She said a silent prayer forthem and thanked the Lordforproviding.Shetookabiteof meat, tomato andmushroom all in one forkful.Itwasdelicious.The tartnessof the cubed green tomatoes,the savory richness of themushrooms and gravy, andmeaty tangof the squirrelalljoined in theperfectblendof

flavors. Mary agreed it wasfantastic,andthankedLeeforthesquirrelmeat.Hereturnedthe thanks, grateful for theirforaging spoils and they allate in silence, enjoying thefood immensely. Tarascraped up her last bite, andthen ran, still chewing,downthestepstocheckondessert.

The crabapple bread hadtakenmuchlesstimethanthehourMary said it took in an

oven. In the shallow pan ontop the stove, it was verynearlydone.Shepokedintoitwith a spoon and the spooncame out clean. It was doneenough! She carried it up tothekitchenandcutitinhugewedges, plopping each ofthemonaplate.

Tara leaned over,breathing in the fruity smellof the steaming, cake-likebread, then took a forkful.

“Ooh Mary! Wow.” It wastart and sweet, crumbly, andfabulous.

“Wait till you taste mypumpkin bread!” MaryannouncedasTara rolledhereyesinfood-ecstasy.

“I barely feel deprived,ladies,”Leejoked.

Mary laughed andnodded,working on her ownwedge.“Prettydarngood forcrabapples, if I do say so

myself,”shemumbledaroundamouthful.

Maryseemedhappy,andTara thought maybe she hadsomehow let go of heranguish over her daughterandgrandson,possiblygivingit over to God. She’d beenmuch more stoic about itlately. Or maybe it was justthenearnessofothersnowinher life. It certainly hadhelped Tara to have Mary

therewiththem.Tara thought about poor

old Clyde, and ponderedsaving him a piece of theapple bread. She nodded toherself, deciding to. Shecould drop it off tonight onthe way to the river. Shewrapped a small wedge intinfoil and explained to theothers. Lee frowned a little,and Tara knew he wasrefraining from lecturing her

on saving the food for justthem.Buttheoldmanwassoskinny,Tarafeltcompelledtodo it. God bless him, he’dlived through so muchhistory, it seemed wrong tolet him starve to death,especially when they hadenough to share and wereable-bodied enough to findmore.

They finished theirsupper in good spirits. The

last anemic light of dayshining through the slits inthe boarded-up windowsannounced evening’sapproach.

“We have a little extrawater since you drained thepipes, Lee, but I think wemayaswellgototherivertogetmore.We’ll need it soonenough.”

“Iagree.Notimelikethepresent,”Marysaid,“andwe

never know what tomorrowmaybring.”

~

The women waited untilfull dark, then changed intoblack clothes and theirdarkest coats. The river ranalongside the Kmart camp,far too close for comfortreally, but Tara also neededto see the bonfires almost asmuch as she needed to get

water. Ever since Leespeculated theywereburningbodies, she wanted to knowthetruth.

Tara loaded their newyardcartwitheverycontainerthat would fit. Water washeavy and it would be astruggle to get the cart homewith it full. But they had todo it, there were no otheroptions. Tara gave seriousconsideration to taking her

car, but itwas just too risky.Risk assessment had becomeafulltimejob.She’dalreadythought about going nextdoor into her old neighborMarla’s house to drain herpipes,waterheaterandtoilet.Maybeeven seewhatwas inher pantry. However, thethought of the germs thatmight still linger on surfacesthere stopped her. Shediscussed it with Lee and he

agreed it was too dangerous.Maryhadalreadydrainedherown water resources, so thatwas out. The river was theirmain source. It was eitherthat, or all the otherseemingly abandonedneighborhood homes. ButTara knew how she and Leehadholedupinsidetheirownhouse,andshedidn’twanttoriskgettingshoteither.

Tara turned back to see

Lee leaning on his crutchwatching as they started outthe backyard pulling the cartfull of water jugs andcontainers.Itwasgoingtobea cold night, and her breathescapedinafrostycloud.Sheand Mary waved at himsilently. The expression onLee’sfacestayedwithherfora while; fear andhelplessness. Tara had neverseenhimweareitherone.

~

Theyardcartfullofjugsand containers glidedsmoothly down the countryroadattheedgeoftown.Tarawas grateful it didn’t squeakorrattle.Thebittercoldnightair burned her lungs and hadnumbed her nose within twominutesofleavingthehouse.Hillocksoftuftedgrass,crispwith frost, sparkled at the

roadside as though reflectingthevaststarryskyabove.Themoonwasnearlyfullandcasta lot of light, butunfortunately,thatalsomeanttheyweremuchmorevisible.

“There’sapaththatgoesdownto theriveron just thisside of the gravel pit,” TarawhisperedtoMary,herbreathhanginginfrozenclouds.Theolderwomannodded.

“I want to get a look at

that bonfire too.” Maryanswered.

TheydetouredtoClyde’sbackyard first, and Taraplaced the tinfoil-wrappedslice of crabapple breadinside his screen door,smiling at the thought of theoldmanfindingit.Yes,timeswere hard, and they mightwell all starve before winterwas over, but she’d bedamned if he starved alone.

She’d come to realize therewasn’tmuch separating themfrom the bad guys in timeslike these, and she wasdetermined to draw a linesomewhere. The quality ofmercy is not strained. WillShakespeare always said itbest.

Theroadoverlookingthegravel pit and Kmart took asharpright-angleturn,andthepath to the river cut into the

brushjustontheothersideofit. Tara could see it straightahead.Shehadexploredhereoften, searching forarrowheadsand fossils in thepit, picking black raspberriesin summertime. She’ddiscovered early on that ahuge concrete, man-sizeddrainpipe ran back towardtown,probablyundertheveryroadtheywalkedon.

Tara peered into the

gravel pit as they passed itand started down the path,almostunabletotearhereyesaway.Marydidtoo.

“Mary, look. There’s atonofnewconstructiongoingup!”Rowsof long,barracks-likebuildingslinedbothsidesof the pit now, stretchingaround the corner onto thehuge parking lot out front.They both stood puzzlingover this foramoment.They

must be expecting way morepeople.

Mary’s daughter wasdowntheresomewhere,anditstruck Tara how calm theolder woman was. Notknowing whether herdaughter and preciousgrandson were alive or deadmust be terrible. Especiallywithwhatwasgoingontherenow. Uneasy at the smokebillowingupfrombehindthe

building, Tara hoped to getclose enough to see forcertain what was happening.Butfirst,theyneededwater.

The path descendedsteeply, and Tara worriedbriefly how she would pullthe yard cart full of waterback up; maybe with Marybehindpushing.Assilentlyaspossible, Tara led the waywithMaryholdingtherearofthe cart to keep it from

sliding sideways down thesteep hill. They came outontoalevelplateaualongtheriverbank. Itwassurprisinglywell lit, and they could seeeach other clearly. The shelfof land they stood on wasabout twenty feet wide andinterspersed with maturetrees. A ring of stones gaveaway the spot’s use forcamping. It was a prettyplace, but beer cans in the

weedsannounced thatmostlykids used it. The moonreflectedoffthewaterandtheonly sound was the riverrushing past, two feet belowthebank.

“C’mon, Mary, let’s getthesefilled.”

They pulled the cart asclose to the edgeof the riveraspossibleanddivviedupthejugs.Tarawasrelievedtoseenot much ice had formed

along the banks, the waterwas moving too fast. Theyeach leaned over to fill thejugs, which was a slowprocess.

Tara had to take onemitten off to get a firm gripon the jug handle, and herfingers were soon numb andclumsy with cold. After thefirst batch was filled, thelargeopenTupperwareboxescame next. Tara suddenly

realized these would sloshtheir contents out on the tripup the hill. “Mary, don’t fillthese as full, or we’re goingto lose a lot on the wayback.”

They finished fillingcontainers and fit them allback into the cart. Theyworked efficiently and insilence,earspeeledforsoundfrom the direction of theKmart.

“Let’s pull this back upthe hill and leave it, thencome back down so we canget a closer look at thecamp.”

The plateau where theystood ran along the river forquite a way, and much likelevels of a steppe, a higherridge ran along above andbehind it.This featurewouldeffectively hide them fromany guards or other sentinels

standingwatch.Tara thoughtthey could get close enoughto the old Kmart to see, yetremainwellhidden.

Mary agreed, and Tarapulledthenow-heavycartfullofwater inch by inch up thehill with Mary pushing hardbehind. It was slow going.Her feet slid out from underher twice on the pebblesalong thepath,and ifnot forMary, it would have been a

disaster.Finally,afterquiteastruggle, they pulled andpushed the cart up to levelground.

Anoisefromthetreelineabove the river made themcrouch low, ready to run. “Isaw something moving overthere,”Tarawhispered.Theyheard a low whistle, andTara’s heart almost stopped.Whowouldbeoutafterdark?She feared it could be the

camp workers, roundingpeople up, but this noisecame from further down theridge.

Tara put a hand onMary’s arm to still her.Again, the low whistle andthen dark shapes startedmoving toward them. Tara’sheart was in her throat, butshe thought maybe thesepeople were just coming tocollectwaterlikethem.

“It’s okay,” someonecalled softly.Taraglanced atMary. It was too late to run.Shehoped thesepeoplewerefriendlies like Clyde. Tararose slowly to her feet andMary followed suit. Twomen and a woman in darkclothes warily approached,carrying rifles over theirshoulders, but they were notmilitary.Tara steadiedMary,herhandonherarm,butstill

readytoboltifneedbe.The younger man

reached them first. “We sawyou at the river.” Tara wasstunned into silence for amoment.

The older man andwoman came up alongsidetheyounger.

“Hello.”They seemed totake in Tara’s fright. “Sorryto scare you, ladies, but wewanted to make contact.We

saw you getting water, andwe’re trying to grow ournetwork.”

Tararelaxedalittle.“Weneeded water too and cameforsome,”shetoldthem.Theoldermannodded.Helookedinto Tara’s face, searching itforamoment.

“Aren’t you Tara fromschool? It’s me, KevinTobler.Iwasayearaheadofyouinhighschool.”

Tara thought sherecognized him. “Kevin!Whatareyoudoingouthere?What’sgoingon?”

“We’re part of theResistance, Tara. We’relearningallwecan, trying tostopwhat’sgoingon.”

“This is my neighborMary,” Tara said. Kevinintroduced the tall, dark-haired youngman as his sonLuke and the woman as his

wife Jenny. Luke was thespitting imageof his parents,aperfect crossbetween themboth. Kevin told them therewere about twenty in theirgroup now, all livingtogether, venturing out onlyfor reconnaissance andforaging. Tara explained sheand her husband had teamedupwithMary at their house.She told them they had onlyseen one old man in the

neighborhood—Clyde.“Whatnews do you guys have?”Tarafinallyasked.

Kevin shook his head.“It’s not good. The door-to-door fever check campaignbytheCDCisongoing.Nowforced vaccinations havestarted. They’re on the eastside of town working theirwaytowardthisend.”

Hope flared in Tara atthis news—surely,

vaccinations were a verygood thing. Her gasp ofexcitement was quicklyquelled.

“The vaccinations arekilling people, Tara. Somesay it’s a live virus, andthey’re trying to give it toeveryone. We have no ideawhy, really. Maybe using usas guinea pigs to testvaccines? We’re also not sosure theCDC is behind it. It

may be the group from thecamp.” He jerked his headover his shoulder toward theKmart.

“Aren’t they both thesame?”Maryasked.

“No, they’re not. Thiscamp seems to have gonerogue,fromwhatwecantell.Thecommanderinchargeisalocal guy from our NationalGuard Armory, by the nameof Colonel Brent “Brick”

Myers. You might knowhim.”

Tarashookherhead.Thename was only vaguelyfamiliar. Mary perked upslightly.“IthinkI’veheardofhim. Is he an asshole?” Theyounger guy, Kevin’s sonLuke,laughed.

“That’shim.”Kevin shook his head.

“Hemost certainly is.We’rebeginningtothinktheoverall

chaoseverywherehas simplyput him in a position ofpower and gone to his head.There’s no oversight at all.Sort of like the Nazi deathcamps.”

Ohno,Mary’sdaughter.Itwas time to say somethingbefore Kevin made thingseven worse. “Mary’sdaughterandgrandsonare inthat camp. They had coldsand slight fevers, and they

weretakenthere.Maryhasn’theardanythingsince.”

Kevin shook his head.“I’m so sorry.” His wifeJenny made comfortingsoundstowardMary.

“Whateveryoudo,don’ttake the vaccine, Tara. Wethink it’s killing around fiftypercent of those who get it,maybemore.”

Tar’s heart leapt to herthroat. As if it weren’t bad

enough without somethingelse added into the mix. “Ihonestly don’t know howwe’d resist, Kevin. I don’thaveenoughammo.”

“You can join us,” hiswife said, “Strength innumbers.” Tara thought thismightbeasolutiontodiscusswith Lee and Mary. “Thankyou, this is definitelysomething to think about.How can we reach you? Do

you make nightly roundsthroughhere?”

Kevin told them theywere holed up in the oldfactory a half mile awaydown the country road theywere on. Tara knew rightwhereitwas.

“Youcanfindusthereoron our nightlyreconnaissance. Just followthe tracks toward the factoryafterdark.Wehaveteamsout

watching. Give that lowwhistle like I gave to you.That’sthesigntoapproach.”

Tara hugged each ofthem and so didMary. Theywere just so relieved to seesomeoneelse,tohaveanotheroption. Tara was especiallygladtoseeanoldhighschoolclassmate, anddoubted she’dhave trusted a total strangerasmuch.SheandMarystoodwatching the threemelt back

into the trees in thedirectionofthefactory.

“At least now we haveanother choice, Mary,somewheretogo.Isuredon’twant the vaccine. We’regoing to have to watch forwhen they get close to ourhouse. Maybewe canmoveto the factory before theycome.Holycrap,as if thingsweren’tbadenough.”

“It’sa lot tothinkabout.

Allof itscares thecrapouttame,”Mary sighed. “Let’s godownthereandhavealook.”

They left the cart full ofwater there at the top of thehill,hiddenbythetallbrownweeds on either side of thepathway. Neither said much,thisnewanddisturbingnewscastingapalloverthemboth.

They made their wayback down to the campsite,sliding in the soft gravel on

thesteeppath.Tarawantedtosee the camp even worsenow.

“Ithinkwecanjustkeepgoing this direction and thenpop up close to the Kmart.”Mary followed Tara as shewove among the trees,dodgingandpushingbackthetall weeds. The foliage wasthick once they left theclearedcampsitearea.

Tara could hear noise

comingfromjustabovethembehind the ridge, and knewthey were very close to thebonfire and building. Shepicked a likely spot with agradual incline, and she andMary crawled up, almost thetopoftheridge.Withonelasthere goes look, they slowlyraised their heads into theopen.

Threehundredfeetawayacross the gravel pit, a large

bonfire smoldered, its graysmoke billowing upward. Itwas at least twenty feetacross.Tarasquintedintently,trying to see something,anything. She noticedglimpses of white that stoodout against the black ash.“Mary,canyousee?What isthatwhitestuff?”Taramovedhereyesfromonepalespottothe next, until finally, at thebase of the bonfire’s edge

nearest them,shefastenedonthe first clear validation ofLee’s earlier announcement.They’rebones.

A scream welled up inTara’s throat. It took all herwillpower to suppress it. Sheducked her head, pullingMarybackdownbyhercoat.Theyslidtothebottomoftheembankment together, andTarascrambledtoherfeet.

“What is it?” hissed

Mary, as Tara pulled heralonginafastshufflebackupthe plateau onto the path.They reached the yard cartout of breath, and Taracrouched down in terror.Obviously,Maryhadn’tseen.Mary pulled her up fromherknees, and Tara’s expressionmust have made animpression.

“Let’s go,” Mary said,pulling the cart at top speed

with Tara stumbling alongbeside her in shock. Theyhurried back down the roadtoward thehouseand finally,Maryaskedheragain.

“Whatdidyousee?”Tara swallowed hard.

She didn’t want to tell her.Her daughter Julie andgrandsonBenwerethere.Butthere was no way to keep itfromher.

“Mary, those white

patches, they were bones—skulls,femurs—Ididn’tknowwhat they were until I saweyesockets.”

Mary slowed thenstopped.

Tara took over. “Let’sgo, let’s get home.” ShegrabbedMary’sarm,tryingtoget her moving again. Taraglanced at her stunnedexpression.

“Julie,”whisperedMary,

the stricken look on her faceslowlycrumplingintofullouttears. Tara rubbed her back,unabletothinkofanythingtosaythatmightcomforther.

“It’s eight o’clock,”Mary said absentmindedly,lookingatherwatch.Shedugin her pocket for her cellphoneand turned iton.Theybegan walking again, Marynumbly, and Tara staringgrimly ahead as they

approachedtheedgeoftown.All at once, severalstreetlights and front porcheslit up brightly.The electric’sback!

Then Mary’s cell phonerang.

Chapter10Mary jumped to

attention, answering the cellon the second ring. TaracouldjustbarelyhearMary’sdaughter through the phone.She watched Mary’s facecollapse at the sound ofJulie’svoice.

Mary started sobbingimmediately, and Tara

quickly took the phone fromher,knowing theelectricandcell towers would switch offatanymoment.

“Julie, it’s Tara, yourmom’s neighbor! Are youokay?”

“Yes, we’re okay. MyGod, I can’t believe thephone worked. It’s amiracle.”

“Julie, itwill goout anyminute, I’ll be quick. We

know now the camp isburningbodies.Whatcanyoutellus?”

“There’s anexercisepenbeside the river, just past thebonfire.We stayout there asmuch as we can. One of thenurses tries to help ussurvivors—yes,bothBenandI caught Ebola from thepatients.Manyhavedied,butshe nursed us so carefully,somehow we survived. No

one knows what’s reallygoing on here—only one ortwonurses,maybeoneofthedoctors—and recently, thosepeoplehavedisappeared.Wethinktheywerekilled.”

Tara nearly dropped thephone in shock. “No, surelynot.” Then she rememberedKevin saying the campcommanderwasarogueNazitype. She stared into Mary’sface. Mary had calmed

somewhatandwanted to talkto her daughter. First, Taraneededmoreinfo.

“Can you stay in theexercise yard at night? Howmany guards are around?What time can you be outthere? Maybe we can bringhelptogetyouout.”

“Oh God, please, pleasetry,” Julie whispered. Taraheard the sound of a childwhimpering.“Yes,wecanbe

out here at night. My nursefriendwillhelpus.Iwillstayout here each evening now,but it’s safest around teno’clock.That’swhentheshiftchanges and they standaround bullshittingwith eachother up front. The fence ischain link, so bringsomething to cut it. Boltcutterswouldwork.”

“Okay,Julie,wejustmetsomeotherswhomight help.

We’ll try to comeas soonaswe can. I don’t know when,but soon.” Tara handed thephonetoMary.

“Is Ben okay?” Maryasked,andthenstartedcryingagain. Tarawatched her facerelax at her daughter Julie’sanswer. “Yes, alright, I loveyou somuch Julie, be brave.Give Ben my love. We willseeyousoon.Hello?Hello?”Tara noticed the lights ahead

had gone dark. Mary burstinto sobs of relief and satdownatthesideoftheroad.

“Mary, they’re okay!C’mon, let’s get home. Weare going to save themsomehow.We’regoingtoaskthe resistance to help breakthem out.” Tara’s mind waswhirling with plans.We candothis.Iknowthey’llhelp.

“My God, Tara, theycaughtEbolaandlived!”

Tara shook her head,amazed.Whathell theymusthavebeenthroughthere.Andwhatadebtwasowedtothatnurse who cared for them.That alonewould’ve restoredTara’s faith in humanity ifthey hadn’t already knownabouttheresistance.Thistripwas proving very fruitful.There are still good peopleleft.

Tara pulled the cart full

of water home in silence,trying to figure out how torescue Mary’s daughter andgrandson.

~Theycarriedallthewater

up onto the porch and beganloading it inside. Lee wassitting at the kitchen bar.When Tara closed the doorbehind them, one glance atthe strange expression on hisface told her something was

off. And she already knewshe had bad news to add towhateveritwas.

“Whatisit,Lee?”He had an old crumpled

pack of cigarettes lying infront of him at the breakfastbar. Tara stared at them,puzzled. Lee had quitsmokingyearsbefore,andsohadshe.

“You go first,” he toldher.“I’mnotsureifmynews

issogood,butIhadtolieandthat’sprobablybad.”

Tara told the story ofmeeting the resistance andwhatthey’dtoldheraboutthecamp, the commander, andthevaccinations.Shefinishedwith what she’d seen at thebonfire, and the freak cellphonesignalallowingJulietocall, confirming what theresistancetoldthem.

Mary didn’t say much,

her face was paler than Tarahad ever seen it. Herdaughter’s dilemma wasobviously affecting herdeeply.

Tarafinishedrelayingthenews. Itwasa lotof info totakein,andLeesatabsorbingitforaminute.

“So, I want to go to theresistanceandbegthemtotrytohelpbreakheroutofthere,ASAP,”sheadded.

Lee still sat staringstraightahead.

“Lee,what’swrong?”He wiped at a sheen of

sweat,which had broken outonhisforehead,thenstaredatit on his fingers, rubbingthem together. “I lied. I toldthemyoutwoweredead.”

“What? Who?” Tarathought maybe he’d goneinsane in the twohourssincethey’dleft.

“They came while youwere gone, theepidemiologists. They gaveme the vaccination.” Mary’ssharp intake of breathpunctuated Tara’s shock.“Theywantedtoknowwhereyou both were, and I toldthem you died of Ebola, andthat I buried you in thebackyard.”

“Ohno.” A stabof fearhit Tara square in the chest,

chokingher.DearGod,no.Lee nodded. “Go to the

basement,Tara.Gettheextramasks and suits youordered.Bring up every bucket youcan find. Put the buckets inoneoftheroomsupstairs.I’mgoingintoquarantine.”

Herheartsank,andMarycame alive then. “It’s okay,Lee. They said that maybefiftypercentweredyingfromit. You’re strong. We’ll get

you through this. It usuallytakes two to ten days todevelop, so we’ll soonknow.”

Leeshookhishead.“No,I already know. I startedfeeling strange right afterthey gave me the shot. Ialwaysdidreacttothingslikethatquickly.”

“We’re with you all theway, Lee,” Mary reassuredhim.Tarastillstoodstaringat

her husband, almostuncomprehending.Shedidn’twant to go get the items herequested,becausethatmightmakeitreal.Finally,shetooka step toward him, and Leehelduphishands.

“No, no more contactthan necessary. I don’t wanttospreadit toyouifI’vegotit.”Therealityaswellastheenormity of the situationsuddenly hit Tara full-force.

She collapsed back againstthecounter.

“Please,God.”Sheputahand up to cover her eyes.Shedidn’twanttoscareLee,butshedidn’twanthimtoseehercryeither.

“C’mon, Tara, let’s getthe stuff.” Mary led her bythearmtothebasementdoor.Tara stumbled down thestairs, trying not to think atall.Shelifteddownthesuits,

gloves and masks from theshelf.“Wemaynotneedanyofthis,butwe’llbereadyjustincasewedo,”Marytoldherreassuringly. “If they’retesting it on us, maybe Leegot one of the good batchesofvaccine.”

A small flame of hopestarted somewhere insideTaraasshecarriedeverythingup the stairs. Mary grabbedthe buckets. Tara went into

the attic and brought downher mom’s old potty chair,whichwasmuchbetterthanabucket.She’d just returned itafter Lee’s leg had healed alittlebetter.Maybeatfirsthecould use that, before he gottoo sick—if he got sick, sheforcedherselftoadd.

Leewasnolongerinthekitchen, and Tara heard himmovingaroundupstairsintheguest bedroom. The women

took the supplies up, andMary began setting up asanitizingstationonthesmallhallway table outside Lee’sdoor. She laid outdisinfectant,gloves,suits,andmasks and carried in thebuckets, placing them besideLee’s bed. He was alreadylyingacrossthetwinmattressinthesmallroom.Tarastoodthere beside him, longing toholdhim.

“Lee, I can’t imagine itcan get much worse. Maybethat fact alonewill keep yousafe.”

“Don’t count on it,” heanswereddryly.Taralaugheda little then, and pulled outthe chair from the tiny deskagainstthewall.

They had been throughso much in their yearstogether.Taraglancedaroundthe small room. There were

stillglow-in-the-darkstarsonthe ceiling from when thishadbeentheirson’sbedroom.She’d never had the heart tochangeitmuch.Hehadbeenkilled crossing the street outfront when he was ten. Taraand Lee had somehowsurvived this tragedy,growing even closer.Somehow, it was fitting Leechosethisroom.

Leenoticedherperusal

of the walls and ceiling. “IfI’m going out, I want to goouthere.”

“Don’t even think it,Lee.” But she totallyunderstood.

The sudden sound ofheavytrafficcomingfromoutfront startled them, and Taralooked out the window.“Whatisit?”askedLee.

Row after row of truckswerepassing,headingtoward

the Kmart. Tara squinted tosee in the moonlight. Shecouldjustmakeoutfacesandhands sticking through theslatsenclosingthetruckbeds,eyes peering out betweenthem. “My God, there arepeople inside! They’re beingtransported somewhere.” Arealization hit herimmediately. “There are newbuildings going up downthereatthecamp,Lee,lotsof

them. For some reason,they’re bringing tons ofpeoplein.”

Lee thought for amoment.“MaybemoreEbolavictims or more testsubjects.” Tara stared at theline, counting. At least athousand human beingspassed by, transported likecattle— like Auschwitz. Shedidn’t want to see anymore.She closed her eyes,

despairing of the newdevelopments.

“Are you okay for themoment? I’m going down tostow away the water and setsometoboilingtosanitizeit.Think positive, Honey, wejustcan’thavethishappentoyou.”

He nodded. “I’m goingto take a nap.” He glancedback at Tara. “And don’tcomeinhereagainwithouta

mask and gloves, you hear?”He smiled, but it was thesaddestsmileshe’deverseen.

“I love you,” Tara toldhim,andhe repeated itback.She quietly closed the doorbehindher.

Mary’s sanitation stationlooked efficient, but Tarawasn’t ready to entertain theidea that Lee might actuallyget sick. The thought oflosing him was simply

unthinkable. She pushed itoutofherhead.

Downstairs, Mary waspouring river water into abucket on the back porch.Taratoldherwhatshe’dseenout front. Fear flashedquickly across Mary’sfeatures, and then she wentback to her work. Taradecided to walk down thedriveway toward the streetoutfront toseeif theconvoy

had stopped. She kept to theshadowsalongsidethehouse,but saw no traffic going by.She stood quietly for amoment, and thenwalkedupthe steps onto her porch, fullof sadmemories of the goodold days when they’d sattherewithfamilyorfriends.

Tara glanced toward thefront door. A streak of redglistened there. She walkedcloser, squinting to see.

Alongside the door casingwasawideswathofbloodorpaint, she couldn’t tell.Whatin God’s name! Drips fromthe liquid had run down thewhite paint of the house.Afraid of tainted blood,Taraleaned in and realized itwastooshiny.Shetoucheditwithone finger. It was paint, stillwet in thecoldnightair.Shewipedherfingeronherpants,andhurriedaroundback.

Maryhadalready spreadpapers out beside the bucketof water. She had taken thewalnuts onto the sidewalkand stomped the outer husksoff, and was tossing thembackupontotheporch.

“Mary, the house hasbeen marked with a big redswatchofpaintonthedoor!”

Mary frowned. “MaybeLee’s vaccination,” sheoffered, “maybe they’re

keepingtrackhowfarthey’vecomeintheneighborhood?”

Tara’s chest felt like ablock of ice. She noddedhurriedly, tryingnot to think.ShegottoworkhelpingMarydrop the walnuts into thebucket, picking out thefloaters and throwing themout to thebackyard squirrels.She laid thegoodwalnutsonthe newspaper. When theyfinished, she lifted thewhole

batch up onto the table tokeep the squirrels away.They’d be ready in threeweeksorsoofdrying.

She and Mary workedquietly and efficiently by thelightofthemoon,neitheronewanting to imagine theworstwith Lee, or for that matter,the sorrymultitudeofpeoplebeing transported like cattletotheslaughter.

Tara missed Lee being

withthemalready.~

Tara spent an uneasynight andwoke early to findMary at the potbellied stove,reheatingthecelebrationstewfor their lunch. She thankedher,andcarriedabowlup toLee on a tray, stoppingoutsidehiscloseddoortoputon a mask. She walked intoher library and pulled out

some books and magazinesshethoughthemightlikeandadded them to the tray.Lastly, she pulled on latexglovesandentered.

“Hi,stranger.”Lee sat up in bed,

lookingtiredandrumpled.Hegaveheraslightsmile.

“Timeforyourwenchtoservethecelebrationstewandcollect your chamber pot,”Tara joked. “How do you

feel?”Lee nodded his head in

lieuofananswer.Taraknewit would be another day atleast before they knewanything, possibly up to tendays.Shethoughtthatmaybeshe should dig out the OralRehydration Solution saltsshe had mixed up early on,just in case. Sincewaterwassohardtocomeby,shereallyhoped they didn’t need the

ORS.“I feel ridiculous in this

get-up,” Tara told him,holdingoutherglovedhands.

“Don’t. With yourimmune system, I can’t eventhink about you getting it.”Shenodded.StresscausedherCrohns Disease to flare up,and although she hadstockpiledhermedsearlyon,she had cut doses in half tostretch them. Lately, she’d

had a lot of gut pain and atouchof fever,asuresignofa flare. And she knew howdangerous having a feverwas.

Tara unloaded thereadingmaterialandthestewbesideLee’sbed.Sheslidouttheremovablechamberpotinher mom’s potty chair,covering it with the lid. Shetried not to grimace. Shedidn’t want him feeling any

worsethanhealreadydid.“Tara,goout intheyard

with Mary and dig a couplegrave-sized spots in the softdirt of the garden. I wantthere to be some indication Iburiedyou two, if theycomebacktocheck.”

Tara nodded again,feeling squeamish about theentireconversation.

“Also, go to the rear ofthe yard, back in the far

corner, and dig a pit as deepas you can. Dump the wasteinthere,andwearmasksandgloves. Cover it over eachtime.”

So far, theyhadallbeenusing a portable makeshifttoilet Tara found in hermom’s camping gear. It wasbasically a toilet seat onfoldingaluminum legswhereyou could attach a garbagebag.Weird but efficient, and

luckily, she had stocked upongarbagebags.

“Lee, c’mon, I…” Tarabegan to protest. Lee cut heroff, soundingangry. “Justdoit!”

Tarainstantlyfeltbadforcausing him more stress. “Iwill if it makes you feelbetter.”

Lee nodded and Taradropped it. An uneasy lumpin her throat kept her from

saying more, and her maskhid her lips, which werepressedintoagrimline.

“IwishIcouldkissyou,”she told him. He nodded,stoic.

“Justgodowhatneedstobe done.” He paused andstared at her steadily. “I’mnotfeelingright.”

PanicwelledupinTara’schest. Please God, no. Shetried to pacify him, but he

waved her off. Taking adifferent tack, shedecided toreassurehimanotherway.

“I’ll be here for you alltheway,nomatterwhat.”Atthis, Lee finally smiled fullyat her. “As I would be foryou, thank you,” hemurmured.

She hoped he could feelher love. “I’ll check on youafterwefinishtheyard.”

She closed his door

softly behind her, stayinggloved and masked and firstcovering, then carrying theslop pan with her. She toldMarywhatLeeaskedthemtodo,andtheywentoutbacktobegin.

Tara grabbed a jug ofbleach to leave outside forsterilizing.

First,theydugadeeppitfortheslopsandTarapouredthem in, shoveling dirt back

inoverthem.Thentheyeachtooka“grave,”diggingdownseveral inches and humpingup thedirtover two6x3footrectangles. Tara stared atthem with satisfaction,thinking they would foolanyoneifyoudidn’tlooktooclosely. A little chill passedthroughherasshehopedthatfakingtheirdeathsdidn’tjinxthem or somehow invite therealthing.

Tara was still gloved,masked, and carrying Lee’sempty slop pan. She stoppedbeside thebacksteps topourbleachinandsloshitaround.The women returned to thehouse exhausted. Tara tookthe pan back to Lee’s room,and found him fast asleep.Tarareplacedthecontainerinthe potty chair and left,stripping off the gloves andmask, tying them up in a

garbage bag they kept forcontaminated items, andtaking it outside. She rubbeddisinfectantonherhandsandheadedbackinsidetomixupsome ORS. She carried upboiled water from thebasement that Mary had setaside to cool. She added abaggie of ORS salts to anempty water jug, shaking itup to mix it. She had a badfeeling now, and believed

theywouldneedit.Tara went to bed that

night tired, but unable tosleep. She stared at theceiling for a long time,wondering what tomorrowwouldbring.

~Both women woke at

nearly the same time, andTara’s mind took right upwhereithadleftoff.

“Mary, how in God’sname are we going to doeverything that needs done?WeneedtogoseeClyde,askhim if he can find out whatother camps around thecountryaredoing, just to seeif ours is different. Then weneed to search out theresistanceandaskiftheywillhelp break Julie out of there.And if Lee gets sick…” shedrifted off, unable to even

completethethought.“Nottomentionweneedtoforageforfood—we only have enoughforanotherdayorso.”

“One thing at a time,Tara,that’sallwecando.AtleastJuliehashopenow,andshe and Ben have survivedthe worst. I am beyondrelieved knowing just thatmuch.”

“We have a little bit ofcrabapple bread left for

breakfast.I’mgoingtotakeapieceuptoLeeandcheckonhim.”

“I think I’m going tomakepumpkinbreadnext.”

“Sounds great, Mary.”Tara took Lee’s plate up tohis room, listening for anysounds from inside. She setthe tray down, put on glovesand mask, and opened thedoor,leaningbackoutforthetray. Lee heard her and

stirred, sittingup inbed.Sheglanced at him as he rubbedhisfacewithbothhands,andgroaned a little. Tara set thetraydownandturnedtohim.

“Hi there, how youdoing?” Lee turned to faceher, blinking. His eyes arered.LikeMarla’swere.

“Idon’tfeelgood,Tara.”Hestaredather,thewhitesofhis eyes bloody. He held hishand up toward the tray. “I

don’t want any. My throat’ssore.”

Tara’s heart sank.“You’vegot toeat,Lee.”Hejust looked at her, obviouslysick.

“I’ll leave it here. I’mbringing up the hydratesolution.Youneedtodrinkagallon a day if you startthrowingup.”Leenodded.“Iknow. I just want to sleeprightnow.”

“I love you, just rest.”Tara left him then, despairwelling within her. The lasttimeshehadfeltthiswaywaswhen their son died. Taracouldnotfocusandmadeherway to the living room. Shesataloneinthebigeasychair,imagining a world withoutLee. She couldn’t. Marycame up from the basement,calling her name. “In here,”Taraanswered.

“Thepumpkinisboiling.Ihavetocookitforaboutanhour first to use it in thebatter.” Mary took one lookat Tara’s face and sat down,alarmed. She stared at Tara,waiting.

“He’s sick, Mary. Hiseyesarerednowandhe’sgotasorethroat.”

“OhGod.”Theybothsatthere quietly for a long time.Therewasnothinglefttosay.

Chapter11Tarastaredunseeinginto

the fireplace. He’s going todie.

Mary sat for a fewmoments, obviously workingsomething through. Finally,she cleared her throat. Shestartedtospeakthenhesitatedandbeganagain.

“Either one of us could

get this at any time now,Tara. And to be honest, oneorbothofusprobablywill. Ihave an idea, hear me out.”Mary glanced at Tara andpaused,bitingherlip.

“Beforeittakesusboth,IwanttogetJulieandBenoutofthecamp.IncaseyouthinkI’m being totally selfish,there’s something there thatJulie’snurse friendcouldgetfor us—plasma. Plasma has

the antibodies Lee needs tosurvivethis.”

Tara sat still for amoment, absorbing this. Itmade perfect sense. “You’reright, Mary. We need to dosomething beforewe catch ittoo. This might actuallywork!”

“Letme take over Lee’snursing. Iwant you to godowhat should be done. We’llneed tubing and needles to

giveatransfusion.Andifyoucan’t get plasma, maybe wecould use Julie’s blood togive to Lee, but that’s noteasy without the rightequipment.”Marypausedfora moment. “It’s Decembertwenty-third. Let’s get themhome for Christmas, Tara.Godwilling,Leewillget thebestpresenthe’severhad.”

Tara leaned forward inher chair, her mind working

again,formingplans.“Julieisalready waiting on us to dosomething.Maybeweneedtomake it happen now. If I gosoon,IcanstoptoseeClyde,findoutwhatinfohe’sgottenfrom other parts of thecountry. By then it will bedark, and I could take thetrackstofindtheResistance.”Tara made up her mindinstantly. “I’m going. Now.”She stared hard at Mary.

“Please be careful with Lee.Use a gown, gloves andmasks.”

“I’m a nurse,remember?” Mary smiled.Tara jumped up and begangathering what she wouldneed.Shedecidednottotakethe gun. Who knows whatmight happen, and Marymightneed it toprotect themthere. Besides, she knew theResistance was armed to the

teeth.Sheputthelastlittlebitof celebration stew in herbackpack for Clyde. This isouronlychance.Ican’tblowit. Lee’s survival probablydepends on it; maybe oursdoestoo.

Tara went back upstairs,suited up, and entered Lee’sroom. She stood by his bedstaring down at him as heslept, with her heart full oflove. Shewasn’t about to let

him go without a fight. Shegently touched his shoulderandhestirred.Heturnedontohis back, opening his eyesand smiling slightlywhen hesaw it was her. It wasextremely macabre andunsettling looking into hisblood-redeyes.Taratriednottoshowherdismay.

“I’m going to get Julieout of the camp, Lee. I’mgoingtogetsomeplasmafor

you. You are going to beokay, Sweetheart.” Leenodded and closed his eyes.Normally, he would haveprotested the danger. Tara’seyesfilledwithtears.

~

Tara’sDiaryDec23,2015I’m leavingnow. I don’t

knowifI’llmakeitback.Lee

is sick, and I’m going to thecamp to try to get Mary’sdaughter out. I have to getsome survivor’s blood. It’stheonlythingthatmightsaveLee. If Kevin and theResistancewon’thelpme,I’llget bolt cutters and try it onmyown. It justcan’tgetanyworsehere.IfIloseLee,I’mdone. I don’t even want tolive. The world has gone tohell in a handcart. Merry

F’ing Christmas to me. Ifthere really is someone upthere watching over us all,pleasehelpmenow.

~

Tara adjusted thebackpackonhershouldersasshe turned to look back atMary standing on the porch.Mary lifted one hand infarewell. Tara was

determinedtodowhatneededdone, both for Mary’sdaughter and for Lee. Thelate afternoon winter sunshoneweaklydown,toofaintto shed any warmth. It wascold, in the upper thirties.Taraknew itwouldbemuchcolder as soon as the sunwent down. She pulled herhat down over her ears, andthewool scarfup aroundherneck to meet it, puffs of

frosty breath wreathing herhead.

Tara headed to the edgeof town and down the alleywhere Clyde lived. As shepassed skeletal trees andgardens, she kept her eyesopen for forage food. Anunnoticed crabapple treecaught her eye, as well as acouple of shriveled tomatoesfrom an abandoned garden.As she passed the nut trees

that had been so bountifulearlier,shefoundafewmorescattered on the frozenground and stuffed them inher backpack. She lookedaround at the desolation ofwinter, at the barren emptyfeel of unoccupied houses,and was sad.Oh, brave newworld…

Tara rememberedClyde’s celebration stew. Hewould be happy at her gift.

She unhooked her backpackand brought out theTupperware as sheapproached his back door.She opened the screen andpounded several times, hardenoughsohewouldhearit.Afew moments later, the oldman’s face appeared at thewindow,beamingatthesightofher.

“My friend! So good tosee you!” he called as he

swung the door open. Tarahugged him, unable to helpbut feel his bony back underhergloves.

“Clyde, I brought you alittle bit of stew we had forlunch.”Hiseyeslitup.

“Oh my, thank you!What a treat.” He took thecontainer from her withfeeblehands.They lookedasthough they were made oftendons with skin stretched

over,no fleshon thematall.Tara’s heart hurt just seeingthem.

“Why don’t you heat itup,Clyde?I’vealreadyeaten.I’ll sit and visit with you. Ihave a few questions too, ifyoudon’tmind.”

Clyde seemed excited attheprospectoffood,andTarafollowed him in to hissparsely furnished kitchen.Hehada tabletopgrillsetup

on the counter that usedbottledgas.

“Hey, that’s nice,”remarkedTara.

“It sure has come inhandy!”theoldmanlaughed.He turned on the smallpropane tank and struck amatch to light it.Heemptiedthe stew into a little pan andsmacked his lips inanticipation.Tarasmiled.

“Did you get the

crabapplebreadweleftyou?”“Oh,myland,yes,andit

was so good!” he chuckled.“So kind of you to think ofme.”

“Clyde, I figure we willall eat or starve together.”Tara said ruefully. Helaughed, stirring the contentsof the pot. The smell ofcelebration stew wafted overtoher.

Taradecided itwas time

to get serious. “Clyde, whatare you hearing aboutconditions elsewhere? I needto know if our local camp isbeing run differently thanother sites.” Tara explainedabouttheresistanceandaboutwhat they had told her, aswell as her plan to try tocontact them that night toattempt a rescue of Mary’sdaughterandgrandson.

Clydeladledthehotstew

into a small brownbowl andpulledoutachairtosit.

“My friends across thecountry are saying theircamps are run by military,very regimented. They’reseparated into buildings forthe sick and barracks for therecovering, all very orderlyandsuch.”

“That doesn’t soundmuch like ours, does it? Arethey burning bodies at the

others?”“Good Lord, I don’t

rightly know. But come tothink of it, my friend inPhoenixsaidtheircamphadacrematory running day andnight.”

“Our local camp istossingthemonabonfire.”

Clyde’s face fell. “Thatdon’thardlyseemdignified,”hesaid, frowning.Hepausedfor a moment. “Kind of

sounds like the Nazis, don’tit?”He chewed thoughtfully,savoring his mouthful ofstew.

“My thoughts exactly.I’mnot surewhatwecandoabout it, but youmightwantto put that info out there.Maybesomeonewillhaveanideaonhowtostopit.”

“I’ll do that as soon as Ifinishlunch.”

“Okay, Clyde, I’m

heading out. It’s almostdark.”

He thanked her for thefoodandshegavehimafinalhug.Taradecided to tellhimabout Lee. “My husband issicknow.They’regoingdoorto door, forcing vaccinationson people. He took one. Tryto avoid one, Clyde. I’mafraid it’s giving Ebola tomore people than preventingit.”

“When the good Lorddecidestotakeme,I’mready,and by whichever means heplans,”Clydeanswered.Taranodded, loving theoldman’scalm stoicism. She guessedmaybe in your nineties, youwereready.

“Please be careful,”Clyde said, “I don’t want tolosemyonlyfriend.”

Hereyesmistedalittleatthis,andshegavehimasmall

smile. “I will.” She hadturned away when a thoughtstruck her. “Clyde, do youhave bolt cutters I couldborrow?” The old mannodded. “If the Resistancewon’t help me, I’ll be backfor them.” She said goodbyeand left him to finish hismeal.

Tarastartedupthealley,taking the country roadtoward the tracks that led to

the old factory. She walkedslowly, giving it time to getfullydark.Thegrayplumeofsmoke still rising behind herpermeated the crisp night airwiththestrangestenchofthebonfire. She knew nowwhatthatsmellwas.

Tara stepped quietlybetween the rails of thetracks, walking on theweatheredgrayboards.Treesleaned in on each side, their

bare branchesmaking a faintsoundastheyrubbedtogetherin the slight wind. It wasreally quite intimidating—itfeltlikewalkingintoatrap.

She glanced right andleft,watching for any telltalemovement that might giveaway the hidden sentinels ofthe Resistance. But therewere no signs of them at all.Theysurehavethisdown.

Tarawalkedonuntil she

wasdeepintothewoods.Thebranches creaked overhead,and thick, brown, waist-highscrub brush covered thebanks on each side of thetracks. Anyone there waswell hidden. She gave atentative long low whistle,watchingand listeningforananswer. Nothing. She did itagain. Off to her right arustling sound began, andthen a returned whistle. The

silhouettesof twodarkheadspopped above the brush andbegan moving in herdirection.

She didn’t recognize theyoung men walking towardher.Tararaisedbothhandstolet them know she wasn’tarmed. “I’m looking for myfriendKevin,heinvitedmetocome.”

“Follow us,” the youngman told her. One walked

ahead of her on the tracks,onebehind.Thefactorycameintoviewand itwas as hugeasTararemembered.Atower—a perfect crows-nest—fouror five stories high, stuck upabove the sprawling rustedmetal complex. Themen ledher inside a chain link fencewhere twomoreguardswerestationed, rifles slung overshoulders. They entered thebuilding throughanoverhead

doorandjustinsideit,atablewithsuppliessat.

“We require all newvisitors to wear gloves andmask.” Tara nodded, puttingthem on. The men led herdown a corridor that twistedand turned like a maze. Iwouldneverfindmywayout.

Finally, they came to anoffice where one of theguards knocked twice. Herold high school friendKevin

openedthedoor.“Are you here to stay?

Where’syourladyfriendandyour husband?” Kevin heldthe door for her, and shewalked into a large roomringedwithchairs.Ahandfulofmenandwomensatstaringat her, and Tara raised onehandinacknowledgement.

“I’mTara.MaybeKevintold you we talked?” Therewas a long pause, long

enoughforTaratoexperiencea sinking feeling and regretcoming. Then an older mansitting behind the lone deskspoke.

“Welcome, always gladto see another survivor.” Achorusofechoesfollowedhiswords and Tara relaxed. Awoman about her ageapproached herwith a smile.“I’mBeth,andyes,Kevindidtell us about you and your

friend.”Kevin asked what

broughtherthere.“When we got home

after talking to you, Kevin,they had already come andgiven my husband Lee avaccination. He’s gettingsick.” The intake of breatharound the room made Tarareadjust her mask to makesureitwastight.

“We’ve taken

precautions so far, but Maryand I decidedweneed to tryto get her daughter andgrandson out of the camp.Justincase,wegetsick.AndI’m hoping to get someplasma at the same time.Mary’sanurseandcandotheprocedureonmyhusband.”

Tara explained howJulie’s fluke cell phone calldescribed the outdoorexercise pen surrounded by

chain link fence. “They aregoing to be out there at teneach night. That’s when theguards change shifts andsecurity is lax.” Tara waitedtoseeifeveryoneunderstoodand offered help before shehad to ask for it. If they didunderstand,nooneleton.

She cleared her throat,adjusting the mask on thebridge of her nose again. “Ineed to know if you would

help me get them out. Boltcutters should do it. Julie’snurse friendwillbeawareofthe plan. I’m going to ask ifshecangrabmesometubingandneedlestoo.”

The silence in the roomwasdeafening.Theoldermanatthedeskleanedback,chairsqueaking, and sucked at atooth. “Why should we helpyouandriskourselves?”

Taradidn’tknowwhatto

say. She narrowed her eyes,thinkingfast.What’s thebestleverage I can buy us? Itcametoherinaflash.

“Julie is a nurse, and soishermother,Mary.Betweenthe two of them, you’ve gotexpertise for every medicalemergency from injury tochildbirth. And Julie hassomethingreallyspecialnow.She’s survived the virus. Atransfusion from her will

likely save anyone who getsEbola.”

Tarawaitedasseveralofthemglancedbackand forth.Finally the man spoke.“You’reright.Wedon’thaveanurseamongus.Itwouldbea valuable resource.” Helooked at the woman Beth,obviously his partner, andback at Tara. “We can helpeachother.”

Tara nodded, trying not

toletthemseehershaking.“When do you want to

setthisup?”“Now,” Tara told him,

“Tonight.” He glancedaround the room, eyebrowsarched. Then he shrugged.“Alright.Iguessweareokaywiththat.”

“Thank you,” Tara said.KevinpulledoverachairandTara sat down as the othersgathered around.They began

tolayoutaplan.~

Mary cut the steamingpumpkin bread into pieces,lifting them from the hotskillet onto a plate. Sheglanced at the crack betweenthe boards on the pantywindowandsawitwasdark.Shewasworried about Tara,andaboutwhethershewouldsoonseeJuliaandBenagain.A thump from upstairsmade

her jump. She wiped herhands and pulled a piece oftinfoil off the spool, lightlycoveringthebread.

She trotted up the stepsand stopped outside Lee’sroom to slip on gown, maskand gloves. She cracked thedoor slightly and peeked in.Lee was just crawling backinto bed and the powerfulsmelloffecesfilledtheroom.Hegroaned.

“Mary, don’t come inhere. It stinks to highheaven.”

“Lee, now don’t youthinkathingofit.It’snotlikeI haven’t smelled shitbefore!”Shetookinhisbloodred eyes and pale face. Thepot attached to Tara’s chairwas nearly full of viscousbrown liquid. She noted itgrimly. The diarrhea hadstarted.

Marywalked to thedeskwhere the gallon jug of oralhydration solution sat. Shepoured a glass and set it onLee’s bedside table. “I knowthisisthelastthingyouwantto do, Lee, and it’s going toget harder once you getnauseous, but you have todrinkagallonofthisperday.This stuff is the differencebetween life and death,literally.”

Lee groaned again andnodded. He picked up theglass and took two swallowsbefore plopping back downon the pillows. “I can barelyswallow, Mary. My throathurtssobad.”

“I’ll check to see if wehave some Sucrets ornumbing spray in themedicinecabinet.”

Mary opened a plasticbag,slidouttheslopspanand

stuck her arm into it, slopspanandall.Itwastheeasiestsolution to carrying thecontaminated waste out backto empty without risk ofspilling it in the house. Shelet herself out ofLee’s roomandwentabouttheroutineofburying the waste outside,disinfecting the pan, andreturning it. She stopped offin the bathroom to check forSucrets in the cabinet and

found a sore throat sprayinstead.

After reassembling thepotty chair, she askedLee toopen his mouth. It too wasbright red, even his tongue.Mary found herself holdingher breath behind the mask.She sprayed his throatliberally.

“Thank you,” croakedLee.“Thathelped.”

She asked if he wanted

pumpkinbread.Heshookhishead.Mary insisted he drinkthe rest of the glass of ORSbythetimeshereturnedinanhour or two. She left himthere, going back outside totake off the gown,mask andgloves.Traipsing through thehouse every time wasn’texactly a good sterileprocedure, but there was alimit to what they could do.She stood there afterward

staring at the moon,wondering what Julie andTara were doing at thatmoment.

Chapter12Tara led the way down

the railroad tracks to theriver, ten of Kevin’scomrades following behindthem. Kevin walked besideher. She knew he hadvolunteered to lead thisrescuewith her, and shewasgrateful. Otherwise, it maynever have taken place. Tara

glanced at the long boltcutters inKevin’s hand, thenbackatthemenfollowing.

“I’ve never used those.Will theyworkonchain linkfence?” Her voice soundedshaky.Sheknewshewasjustmaking small talk, but Tarawas nervous, extremelynervous. She realized howdangerous their mission wasandthatthismightbeherlastfew moments on earth, but

desperationdroveher.SavingLee was all she could thinkof.

“Yes, theyshoulddo thejob just fine.We’re thepointmen, Tara. The others aregoingtoremainhidden,soasnot to risk the entire group.Weneedtogetinandgetoutwithinthreeminutesorso.Ifyou can’t get the transfusionitems you need by then,you’ll have to let it go. If

anything at all goes wrong,”he held her eyes and paused,“you’re on your own.” Taraswallowed hard and nodded.Her mouth was terribly dryandshecouldbarelyspeak.

As cold as it was, shewas sweating profusely. Shepulled the scarf away fromherneck,hergazedartingleftandright,halfexpectingtobeambushed before theyreached the camp. Her mind

spun with plans, obsessingoverthedetailsofwhatmighthappen, running newscenarios through it in hopesof being prepared foranything.However,sheknewthatwas impossible. Itwas await and see situation, thatwasthereality.

Kevinhelduponearmina gesture of silence as theyneared the bluff overlookingthecampandtheriver.There

was just enough light to seehim. The barely perceptiblesoundoffeetonsmallstonesbehind them was the onlythingTaracouldhear.

Kevin started down thepath through the waist-highbrown weeds. Theydescendedthesteephillinthenear dark, and exited on theplateau beside the river. Theringed rocks of the campfireshowedpaleagainsttheblack

ground.Kevinstoppedagain,turning to look at the othersdescending the hill. Tarawatched as they scatteredalong the riverbank,crouching behind trees andtall weeds. This apparentlywas as far as they wouldcome. Not very reassuring,but Tara was grateful that atleastKevinwaswithher.Hesignaled them, and then ledthe way further down the

bank, finally dropping to hishands and knees to crawl upthe steppe-like ridge justbelow the camp. The fumesfromthebonfirewereintensehere,andTaraalmostgaggedat the horrible odor hoveringjust below the smolderingwoodsmell.Sheknewnowitwasburningflesh.

With another nod fromKevin, both of them slowlyraised their heads above the

ridgeline.Thehugechainlinkenclosure lined with bencheswas just yards away, a courtsized rectangle at the rear oftheKmart.Itwastoppedwithbarbed wire, but Tara knewthat wouldn’t matter. Theywere going in through thebottom.

Astheycreptcloser,Taracouldseetwohuddledfigureson a bench closest to theriver.Thatmust be Julie and

Ben. Tara pointed andKevinnodded.

“Stay here. The teamwantedme to go up front tochecktheaccessdoors.I’llberight back.” Tara froze andpanic welled up inside her.No! That wasn’t part of thedeal!Butshecouldnotbringherself to demand he stay.Shewasluckytheywereevenhelping her at all. Shecrouched there watching as

Kevin dropped the heavyindustrial bolt cutters besideherandtookoff,runninglowalong the fence and outsidewallofthebuilding.Shetriedto calm herself. It’s okay;he’scomingrightback.

Tara did not see anyoneelse in the enclosure anddecided to approach Julie.Partofherwantedtosurprisethem for Mary’s sake. Shestealthily placed each foot,

making as little noise aspossible, holding her breathtoavoidmakingwhiteclouds.Atthefence,sheinsertedherfingers in the links andcrouched. Julie was two feetto her right, her son partiallyonherlap,ablanketwrappedaroundthemboth.

“Julie,” she breathedsoftly. Julie stirred, and thenrealized someone had calledher name and jerked around

quickly. Tara could seeblonde hair framing the paleoval of her face, her mouthopeninshock.

“Tara, is that you?” shewhispered. Tara answered inthe affirmative and creptclose enough for Julie toentwineherownbare fingersaround Tara’s gloves. Shemustbefreezing!

“Listen to me. We’regetting you out. My friend

Kevin is up front checkingdoors and guards. He’ll beright back. I need you to getmetubing,needlesandbloodor plasma for a transfusion,andwhateverelseyou’llneedto give one. Type O. MyhusbandLeeissick.”

Julie reacted instantly,carefully laying the sleepingBen out on the bench,covering him with theblanket. All Tara could see

wasthetopofhisblondheadpeepingout.

“Hurry,”Taraurged.“I’lldowhatIcan,”Julie

told her, breaking into ashambling half-run towardthe rear entrance of theexercisepen.She looked likeshewasveryweak.

Hurry,Kevin. If this boywakesupbeforehismomgetsback, if he screams when heseesus…

“Hey!” a male voiceyelled from the direction oftheentrance,veryloudinthestillness. A suddencommotionatthefrontofthestorebegan.Shoutingandthesound of heavy footfalls inthe brush followed. Kevin!DearGod,he’sbeencaught.

From behind her, downtheridge,TaracouldheartheslightnoisesoftheResistanceretreatingtosafety.Desperate

now, Tara tried to think ofwhat to do, how to save themission.Theboltcutterswerefar down over the bank,safelyoutofsight,butKevinwas leading the guardsstraighttoher.

Quickly, she whisperedBen’s name. The boy stirredand sat up. “Ben, I’m yourgrandma’s friend. Go inside,quickly and find your mom.Tell her not to come out.”

The little boy blinked hispretty blond lashes at her afew times, nodded, andgathered the blanket aroundhim, shuffling toward thedoor. He seemed prettyunruffled for a six year old,and Tara thought he hadprobably seen it all by thistime. Thank God, he didn’toverreact. Tara moved fromthe fence, further toward thefront andaway from thebolt

cutters. The guards chasingKevin shouted their waycloser. They’re too close, Ican’t get away. She glancedaround desperately. Therewas nowhere to hide. Taraclosedhereyes.

Ben and Julie are safe.The guards won’t knowthey’re involved, but whatcan I tell them we weredoing? Maybe a version ofthetruth…thatarelativewas

broughthere,andIwantedtosee if I could find them? Itwas the best she could thinkof,andshesaidatinyprayer,hopingitwouldwork.

Kevin crashed throughthe brittle waist-high brush,and Tara saw his look ofpanic. The men came rightbehind him, but Kevin flewpast her, face flushed.Another guard yelled at thesight of Tara and broke off

fromtheother three.Heheldhis rifle on her. “Well, lookhere,anotherone,”hepanted,winded from chasing Kevin.“And this one’s a lotprettier.”

“I’msorry.Myauntwasbroughthere.Ijustwantedtocome see it for myself. Ihoped to get someinformationonher.”

The guard laughed. “Atnight?” He raised his

eyebrows skeptically,motioning her to hand overher backpack. She slipped itoff.

Tara shrugged. “Well,you know, I’ve seen a lot ofpeople taken here, and Ididn’twanttobeoneofthem.I asked my friend Kevin tocome with me, and he wasnice enough to do so. Nowyou’re chasing him.” Herwords were punctuated by

shouts. The three guardscame crashing back throughthebrushwithKevinintow.

Tara shook her head,exasperated. “Kevin, I toldhimitwasn’tyourfault;thatImade you come with me tofindout infoonmyaunt,buthedoesn’tbelieveme.”

Kevin understood whatshe was doing and nodded.“I’m sorry I ran, but I gotscared. I kind of guessedwe

weren’t supposed to comethisclose.”

The guards ignored him,pushing him ahead of themback toward the front of theKmart.Tara’sguard tookherbytheupperarmanddirectedher before him. Tara’s heartsank. At least we got ourstoriesstraight.

~Mary heard movement

from upstairs and went tocheck on Lee. She pouredanother glass of ORS, andLee groaned, shaking hishead.

“I know, Lee, but youhave to drink it. You alsoneed to force some fooddown, for Tara’s sake ifnothing else. She’ll be backsoon, and I don’t want herthinking I didn’t take careofyou!”

This seemed to have aneffect. “Is there anymore ofthat crabapple cake?” herasped.“MaybeIcouldeatalittleofthat.”

Mary shook her head.She instantly decided theleast she could do was gogather more crabapples andmakehimanotherone.

“A fresh batch, comingrightup!”

Lee rolled over to face

thewallandMaryclosed thedoor softly behind her. Hewas burning up with fevernow, and her fear rose. HemightnotsurvivethisifTaradidn’t come back soon withblood and transfusionsupplies.Shetriedtoshutoffthis train of thought. ButMary was alone and afraid,withaverysickman.

After she cleaned anddisinfected herself, she

decided to make the trip tothe crabapple trees rightaway. She should be able toget back within twentyminutes if she hurried. Shedressedwarmlyforthefrostynight and let herself out theback door. As she walkeddownthealley,shehappenedto notice some of the housesnowhadpaintalongsidetheirfrontdoorstoo.Shecouldseeit clearly in the moonlight.

Here was a streak of red. Afewhousesdownwasanotherstreak of red. On the otherside of the street, she sawbrightyellowswatchesonthedoors of several homes. Redon some, yellow on some.Whatdoesitmean?

Mary scooped up asmany crabapples as shecould, picking even morefrom the trees and stuffingthem into the plastic bag she

carried. She hurried homewithout seeing another soul.It was as though the worldhad ended and she was thelast survivor. The chill shefelt had nothing to do withthecold.

~

The guards led Kevinand Tara around the side ofthe large building, with Tarawondering the entire way

about Ben and Julie. Did hegive her the message? Wastheir true mission stillundiscovered? If so, maybetherewereasmallchancetheResistancewouldcomefinishthejob,andrescuethemnowtoo. She hoped Kevin wasimportantenoughforthemtorisk it. Maybe along withJulie’snursingskills,itwouldbe enough. Tara knew shehadnothingtoofferthem.

The group arrived at theedge of the blacktoppedparking lot, which stretched,allthewaytotheaccessroadthat ran between the otherstores nearby. The WalmartSuperstoreloomedofftotheirleft, a Big Lots, DollarGeneral and several smallerstores inasmallstripmall tothe right. Tara couldn’t helpwondering if there was anyfoodleftinanyofthem.

Kevin and Tara werepushed ahead of the guardsthrough the large glass doorsreinforced with plywood.Again,theywerestoppedandfittedwithmasks.Shenoticedthe formerly glass-frontedstore sported plywood overall the windows, except forone higher up. The old storehad been turned into afortress. At least there waselectric, the generators were

doing their job. Tara blinkedat the near-blindingwhiteness. She’d almostforgotten how bright lightswere.

Guards with rifles slungover their shoulders stoodlined on each side of theentrance. Once inside, Tarasawthatawallhadbeenbuiltjust behind the row ofcheckouts behind the cashregisters.Itranallthewayto

theothersideofthebuilding,effectively blocking off thefront of the store fromwhatever was now containedintherearsection.

She and Kevin were leddown the aisle into thecustomer service area,whereanother door opened up on aflightofstairs.Sidebysideatthispoint,Tarahad a chanceto catch Kevin’s eye. Hefrowned and shook his head

slightly. This scared herbadly.Surely, itwillbeokay.This isagovernment facility.They’ll question us, maybedetainusforabit,thenletusgo.

They stopped before adoor marked Private and herguardknockedsoftly.“Comein,” someone answered onthe other side, and she andKevinwereusheredthrough.

Abigmanstoodlooking

out the window at the night.He had a close-croppedhaircut, obviously military,and wore a camouflageuniform. Pink scalp showedthroughhis lightcoloredhairand his thick neck glowedred.There’s a strokewaitingtohappen.Taracouldn’tstoptheirreverentthought.

He turned to them,eyebrows raised. “What dowehavehere?”

“They were caughtoutside, Commander Myers.Themalesubjectwasupnearthe front and the female outbackbythefence.”

“And did you ask themwhattheyweredoing?”

Tara decided to interjecther story. “I begged myfriend Kevin to come withme. My Aunt’s been gone along time and I was goingcrazy not knowing. If you

couldjusttellmewhethershesurvived the virus or not…”Tara lied, thinking shesounded pretty convincing.Kevin stood quietly, lettingherdoallthetalking.

The camo-man stared ather, expressionless. Tararetained her most innocentlook. Finally the man spoke,“We’ll keep you hereovernight.We’re expecting alarge contingent of recruits

for our vaccination program,and you two can get onewhile you’re here.” Hemotionedtotheguards.

“Get her set updownstairs,” he said,dismissing her. Tara tried tohideherfear,ashelookedherwayagain.

“Youmaytellthemyouraunt’s name tomorrow, andtheycanlookupherstatisticsinthebigbook.”

Tara meekly assented.Commander Myers’sdemeanormade her afraid tosaymuch else.OnlyKevin’seyes moved in his frozenface,followingTaraastwoofthe guards led her out. Panicat being separated from himwelled up in her chest, andshe wanted to protest butknew that might seem evenmore suspicious.Don’tmakewaves, Tara. Apparently,

theyweren’t quite donewithKevinyet.

TaragaveKevinonelastimploring look as shepassedby. His eyes were haunted,but it was beyond theircontrolnow.Shefeltguiltyatbeingthecauseof thiswholething.What else could I do?If only he hadn’t gone upfront,we’dbehomebynow.

“What are they going todo to Kevin?” she asked her

guard as they descended thesteps.

“Oh, ask him a fewquestions, that sort of thing.Keepmoving.”

The guards led her theopposite way down the aislethis time, in frontof thenewwall that ran behind thecheckout lanes. At the endwasadoorwheretheyexitedto the outside. Tara saw along barracks-type building

just across from them.Another smalldoor—abrandnewone from the looksof it—was just beside the onetheyexited.Sothey’vetotallyseparatedthebackhalfofthestorefromthefront.

Astheguardspushedherinside, one told her to find abed, and then the doorslammed behind her. Oh,dear God. Tara held herbreath as she took in the

cavernous space lined withcots. There were peopleeverywhere, sprawled outasleep on them. Young, old,fat, thin, the sheer crush ofhumanity,alongwiththereekof unwashed fleshoverwhelmed her. It suredidn’t look or smell like ahospital, not at all sanitary.Motherswith children curledagainst them, familiesbunched together around

several cots, humped formsunderblanketsallgreetedhereyeinthedimnightlightsthatlined the walls. Not all hadblankets, and she could seeimmediately that everyoneappeared just as if they’dstepped in off the street inrumpled, dirty civilianclothes.

Tarastoodfrozenagainstthe closed door, unsurewhatto do. Fear and panic almost

chokedher.Where’sJulie?Ifshe could just find Julie, atleast she would know whatwas expected. Getting herbearings, Tara decided tohead toward the rear. Theexercise yard would be backtheresomewhere.

Holding her breath, shesentupaprayerofthanksforthe thin surgical mask shestill wore. At least it wouldkeephersaferthannothaving

one at all. These peopledidn’t look sick though, sothat was a bonus.Nevertheless, theywere verystill, almost lifeless seeming.For a moment, Tara thoughtthey might be dead bodiesand her fear ramped up. Shetried to calm herself and berational. Maybe all thebarracksholddifferent levelsof recovery, and these folkshave survived Ebola. Tara

hopedso.As she walked quietly

down the long aisle, shecouldseeadoorinthefarleftcorner of the rear wall. Theexercise pen! This is whereshe headed. In the half-light,she noticed movement nearthere. Itwas Julie—shewaswavingherarms.She’dbeenwatchingforTara.Godblessher! Her little boy Ben waslying on a cot near the door,

wrapped in a blanket. Asecond empty cot—Julie’sobviously,satbesideit.

Julie wrapped her armsaround Tara, whisperingfrantically. “Oh, Tara, myGod, I can’t believe theycaughtyou!I’msosorry.”

Tara wanted to cry, butheld it together. If this poorwoman could go through allshe had gone through, Tarawas ashamed to show her

own weakness over simplybeingbroughtthere.

“Julie, I’m so glad I’mherewithyouthough!Idon’tknow where Kevin is. Theykept him in the office.” Taraglancedaroundfrightened.“Itoldthemhecamewithmetolookformymissingaunt.”

The rumpled peoplesleepingaroundthemstilllaysuspiciously still, almost asthough they were drugged.

JustasTarahadthisthought,Julie sank down as thoughexhaustedontothecotbesideBen. “You can take thatempty cot, Tara. We tradedwithsomeotherpeopletogetnearthedoor.IcansleepwithBenonmine.”

“Are you okay?” Taraasked her. She glanced at allthe others passed out nearthem. “No one’s movingmuch.Aretheyalright?”

“We’re okay, just veryweak. They take too muchoutofus.”

Tara tilted her head, notunderstanding. “Too muchwhat?”

“We’re donors, Tara.They sell it to the highestbidder.”

Shock radiated throughherasJuliewenton.

“At best, in a healthyperson, you can maybe

donate twice a week. Lately,they’ve been doing it threetimeseveryotherweek.Theydon’tcareiftheykillus.”

Horror stopped Tara’svoice. How can this be? Itcan’t be true. It’s agovernment run facility! AtthelookonTara’sface,Julieexplainedfurther.

“They’re taking plasmafrom us. Ben’s too little, butthey don’t care. It’s a blood

andplasmafactory,Tara,andthey’ll never let us survivorsgo. They’re selling ourlifeblood to wealthy people.It’s the only cure, the onlywaytosurviveEbola.”

“Oh,myGod.”ItwasallTaracouldsay.

“We’re all so weak.Webleedwiththeslightestbumpor scratch—because ourplatelets are low. Some die.They’re taking toomuch, too

often.”Tara stared at Julie’s

pretty but haggard face, herblonde hair stringy and dirtyhanginglimplybesideit.Thehugecirclesbeneathhereyesunderscored her words. Taratried to absorb the scale ofthis revelation, but couldn’tyet.Hermindwasspinning.

Julie watched her withcompassion, obviouslyknowing how traumatic the

truthofthecampwastothosewho had just arrived. LikeAuschwitzmusthavebeentotheJews.

Tara slumped down onthe empty cot beside Julie’s.“How can this be?” shesomehow finally squeezedout.

“The guy who runs it,he’s not government—Imean,yeah,hewasoriginallyIthink—butthatstoppedlong

ago, after so many died. HisguysweartheCDCsuits,butthey’re not CDC. The goodguys lost control a long timeago, Tara. And this guy,Meyers, is one of the badguys.”Juliepausedamomentand snorted a cynical laugh,“One of the now very richbadguys!”

Tara stared around thehuge dimly lit room. Theremust be five hundred cots in

here, very few unoccupied.Why do they need to take somuch from them? Julieseemedtoreadherthoughts.

“It’sstillnotenough,notenoughforhimatleast.TheystartedavaccinationprogramtoinjectpeoplewithEbola—house to house. Everyonegets the virus shot. Twothirds are earmarked asdonors—sotheygettreatmentwith survivor’s plasma, and

they usually live. They painta yellow stripe on thosehouses, goingback to collectthemlater,tobringthemhereto the camp. The other thirdgettheshot,butnotreatment—theywant thosepoorsoulsto act as human petri dishes.After all, what better way togrowEbolawithoutalabthanadeadbodyfullofthelargestamount of virus at its mostvirulent stage? But there are

worse things…” Tara staredat Julie, waiting. “There arerumorsofabarracksdownatthe end of the line, wheretheydoexperiments.”

Tara felt herselfbeginning to tremble. It wasan involuntary reaction shecouldn’t stop. All she couldthinkaboutwasLee.

“Dothepetri-dishhousesget the red stripe?” shewhispered.

“Yes.”AttheexpressiononTara’sface,Juliesuddenlyseemed to realize what hadhappened. She leanedforward and weakly tookTara’sstill-glovedhand.

“Didyourhousegetaredstripe?” Tara nodded as hertears finallyspilledover.Shelowered her head and criedforLee,Mary,forallofthem.She choked out the story ofhow she and Julie’s mom

MaryhadcomehometofindLee had taken thevaccination.

Juliemoved slowly overtohercotandheldherasshecried. Tara was grateful andlet the younger womancomfort her as she tried tocomprehend the level of evilitwouldtaketocreatesuchathingasthisterribleplace.

Chapter13JulieheldTaraforalong

time.Finally,Tara’ssenseofguiltoverpoorJuliehavingtodo all the comforting afterwhat she had been throughrose inside her. She pulledaway, thanked the youngerwoman, and began to tellJulie about their rescue plan.Tara knew this was the best

way to show her gratitude—togiveJuliehope.

Julie’s little boy Benstirred on the cot beside her,whimpering a little. “I’mhungry,”hesaid.Juliepulledhim close and shushed him.She dug in her pants pocketand brought out a small,rubbery-looking piece ofsomethingTaracouldn’tquitemake out. Julie popped it inthe boy’smouth.He chewed

silently, snuggling back intohis mom’s shoulder,contented. She laid himgentlydownonthecot.

“Isavedacouplecarrotsfrom the soup yesterday. Hegetssohungry.”

Tara stared at Julie,horrified as Julie began toexplaintheroutinethere.

“They serve us all foodonce a day in the barracksnextdoor,usuallyasoup.I’m

glad you’ve got the maskthough.” Julie looked away,then back up at Taraapologetically. “They doshiftsofpatientsinthere—allthe patients. They use thesamebuilding for everyone.”Julie paused, as though notwanting to tell her more.Finally,sheseemedtodecideto go ahead and say it. Hershouldersslumped.“Thesickones eat there too. No one

disinfects it. We’re on ourown.”

Tara took this all in andsatmute, unable to think, letalonespeak.Juliewenton.

“I think that’s how Benand I got sick.Wewere oneof the early batches here,before they started thevaccination program. I thinkwe caught it from the foodline. I guess now they figurewhoever gets it naturally, it

justsavesthemthetroubleofgivingittothemonpurpose.”

Tara finally found hervoice. “Howdid you surviveit,Julie?”

Julie tucked the blankettighteraroundBen’ssleepingform, stroking his hairlovingly. “Mel,” sheanswered, “My friendMelanie.Ifitweren’tforher,we’dbedead.”

She told Tara how her

nurse friend had come uponthem, both sick with thevirus, and taken them underher skillful wing. She hadevensecuredasingledoseofsurvivor’s blood,which Julieinsisted be given to Ben.Soonafter,MelriskedherlifetobringasecondbagtoJuliein the dead of night. WhenJulie explained the gravitytransfusion procedure, andhow you could squeeze it in

quicker by hand inemergency situations, Taraknew this was what sheneeded forLee, but they hadtoescapefirst.

“Julie,IreallybelievetheResistance might be back togetusoutofhere. Ineed theequipmenttodoatransfusiononLee, or anyof us for thatmatter,ifwegetsick.”

“Well, if she could stealblood or plasma, and we

could get it into Lee quick,he’ll be alright. After that,whoever else gets sick, wedon’t have the resources tomake or store plasma orblood. The generators hererun the freezers day andnight.We’dhavetowingit.”

“We’ll need tubing andneedles too, Julie. Where isthisfriendofyours?Doesshemakeroundshere?”

“Yes, but not often.

Sometimes she checkspatients in the line at thecafeteria and does bloodtyping. So we may see hertomorrowatlunch.”

Lunch seemed a longway off. “Can we go sitoutside, just in case theResistance comes back?”Juliesaidyesand leftBen tosleeponthecot.“Ifhewakesup, he’ll know where I am.Poor little guy. He sleeps

most of the time, and to behonest,I’mglad.”

Julie opened the door tothe freezing night air. “Theyusually stoke the bonfire justbeforedawn.Itwon’tbelongnow,”shesaid,lookingattheskytowardtheeast.

“Wait,” Tara told her.She unwound her scarf, thenripped it in half lengthwise,handing the second piece toJulie. Then she slipped off

oneofherglovesandpassedit over as well. Tararemembered her coat had azip-out lining. She shruggedherselfoutofitandslippediton Julie. It made a sort ofpuffyvestforher,andthegirlhuggedTaragratefully.

“ThisisthewarmestI’vebeen since I got here,” shesaid. Tara smiled andfollowed Julie outside. Theywalked to the bench where

Tara first spotted Julie, andsat close together there forwarmth. Tara pulled thesurgical mask down aroundher neck, breathing the coldnight air deeply into herlungs.Juliebegantospeakofher mother and about howbadly she missed her. Taratold her how much Mary’slove for Julie and Ben kepther going. “You’ll see heragainsoon,Iknowit.”

The stars were bright,and Tara glanced at themoften, listening for anysoundsoutside the fence, buttherewerenone.Thewomenhuddled together, one full ofhope now, the other filledwithgrowingapprehension.

~

The sound ofapproaching footfalls fromthe rear of the camp pulled

Tara’s attention away fromJulie’sstory.Afaintstreakofdawn in the eastern skyannounced the time. Severalmen in spaceman-like suits,their dark shadowsanonymous in a frighteningway, pulled a large cartaround to the bonfire. Taracould see the men clearlyfrom their vantage point intheexerciseyard.Theybeganto toss brush and logs onto

thesmolderingbonfire.When the flames finally

took hold, they rose in acrimsonblaze,shedding lightaround the entire area. Juliemotioned Tara to be still. Itwasquiteawayoff,butcloseenough for sound to traveland movement to be seen.The women watched as themen wrestled something elsefrom the cart. Each one tookanend,turningittowardTara

and Julie. They began toswing this thing back andforthbetweenthem,backandforth, until its arc was largeenough to propel the heavyitem up onto the hottest spotin the center of the bonfirewhentheyletgo.

In thehecticglowof theflames, the last arc of theobjectclearlyilluminatedit—the blood streaked body ofKevin, her comrade and

classmate.Tarascreamedandstood

up. Julie sprang into action,pushing her back into thebuilding as Tara sobbedinconsolably.

“Lay down, quick,”directedJulie,leadingTaratohercot.“FortheloveofGod,Tara,stopcrying.Youmust!”

JuliecurledupwithBen,and Tara somehow pushedthe vision of Kevin’s bloody

face out of hermind, stiflingher sobs and lying quietly.Just moments later, the doorup frontopenedanda strongbeam of light swept acrossthe sleeping forms in thelarge room. The light passedback and forth several timesas Tara lay frozen in fear,eyes closed. She was stillnumbwithshockoverKevin,but survival instinct hadkicked in. Be still, you’re

okay.We’re going to get outof here. Finally, the beamswitched off, and a fewmomentslater,theyheardthedoorshut.

Julie reached across thespace between the cots andsqueezed Tara’s arm, a lookof compassion on her face.Tara began to sob again,silently.“It’smyfault.ImadeKevincome,”shechoked.

Julierubbedherarmand

sighed.“First,thelogsalwaysgoon.Underthelogsarethebodies. They throw the deadon the fire everymorning. Itusedtotakeseveraltrips,butnow the dying has slowedsome.” Tara stared intoJulie’seyesasshewhisperedthese abominable thingswiththe matter-of-factness ofannouncingwhat she had fordinner.

“I saw thedoctor’sbody

one day, Dr. Clemons, themanwhowasinchargeofthemedicalside.Hewasn’tsick.Hewasfineonedayanddeadthenext.”

Tara shuddered andclosed her eyes, her stomachnauseous. Somehow, shefinallymanagedtodriftofftoa fitful sleep, dreaming ofLee.

~Mary focused on the

means to bake the bread assoonasshereturnedfromthecrabapple trees. Since Leehad gotten sick, it was up toher to tend the potbelliedstove. Lee had dragged andstacked the neighbor’sfirewood just outside theirback door. Mary fumbledaround in the dark andbrought in several large logsand some kindling, trying toestimate roughly just how

much it would take to bakethe bread. Then she got towork washing and cleaningthecrabapplesandmixingthedough.

She chopped the fruitvery finely this time. Herstomach growled, but ashungry as she was, this wasfor Lee. If it was the onlything he had an appetite for,then so be it. Mary put inextra sugar for more

nutrients,andmadethebatteras light and smooth as shecould for his weakeneddigestivesystem.

Her watch still workedjust fine, and so did thebattery-operatedclocksinthehouse. They had removedmost of the batteries to holdin reserve, but kept the wallclock in the kitchen running.Mary couldn’t stop glancingfirst atherwatchand thenat

the wall, as though theymight tell her somethingdifferent. She was thinkingTara should be back by nowwith Julie and Ben. Theminutes crawled by, and thelater itgot, themoreher feargrew.

She carried the cast ironskillet of batter down to thestove and set it on, thenpokedatthelogs,whichwereburning nicely. She stood

back,wipingherhandsonherapron, and her stomachgrowledagain.Shedecidedtolook in the small root cellarwhere Tara had stored theirforaging spoils. She washungry.

The small dirt-flooredroom was lined with oldshelves. It was cold here,closed off from the stove,perfectforstoringfood.Maryfound the rest of the large

mushroom pieces, and tookdown a big chunk. Therewere also some more dahliaroots and daylily tubers, andsheheldupheraprontomakea carryall. She grabbedseveralchestnutstoaddtothemix and returned upstairs.There was no meat left andno time to make a squirreltrap. She wished for amoment shehad someof thecelebrationstewTara took to

Clyde. Mary thought aboutthe oldman for amoment. Iwonder ifTaramade it thereon her way to see theResistance. Maybe Clydeknows something more. Thisoccupied her mind as shewashed and prepped themushrooms, chestnuts andtubers. She cubed them,tossedthemallinoil,saltandpepper, and put them in afrying pan. As she carried

them down to the stove, shehad a final thought.Maybe IshouldgoseeClydesoon.

Thecrabapplebreadwasbaking nicely. She returnedupstairs, peeling the dahliaroots next, and then shavingoff thin slices for a salad.After mixing some vinegarandoilwithalittlesugar,shestood at the bar eating herconcoction. It was deliciousand gave her poor stomach

somethingtoworkonbesidesitself.She’dallbutdecidedtomakethetriptoClyde’s,andsheresolvedtosavealittleofthis meal for him too, as aChristmaspresent.

She returned to thebasement to stir the fryingpan contents and when theyweredone,atehersharerightout of the pan with a fork.She put the rest for the oldman into a tinfoil packet. At

least she was full now, andher belly was one less thingtoworryabout.Marywishedshe could calm her mind aseasily.

Lee was sleeping oncethe bread was done, so shedecidedtowaituntilhewoketo feed it to him. It was allshecoulddonottocutherselfahugegolden-brownwedge.

Mary spent a restlessnight, unable to sleep. She

awakenedalmost everyhour,worrying about Tara, Julie,Lee,andBen.SheheardLeemovingaroundupstairsafewtimes andchecked inonhimonce.Hewassleepingfitfullyagain by the time she got upthere, and she didn’twant todisturbhim.Helookedawful.ShesawtheglassofORSshehad set out for him on thebedside table; it was halfempty. So at least he was

trying. Mary knew it wouldbe hard to drink a gallon ofthis a day now as the virusprogressed. Both eating anddrinking would becomedifficult once the vomitingstarted. She hoped he couldeatthecrabapplebreadandithelpedgetsomecalories intohim.Marywent back to bedand finally drifted off, withvisions of Tara being shotalong the fenced-in exercise

yard waking her upwhimpering.

Early the next morning,she woke with a start to thesound of Lee retchingviolently. She knew it wasbad by virtue of the fact shecould hear him all the waydownstairs. She ran up tocheck him, dressing quicklyinherprotectivegearoutsidehisdoor.

Lee had finished

vomitingforthemomentandwas lying back on thepillows, his face white. Hejust stared at her. “I’mbleeding,” he whispered.Mary nodded, alarmed, butkeeping her expressionneutralsoasnottoscarehimany worse. She simplytouchedhisarmgently.Itwasdifficult to be reassuring, butat least she could let himknow he wasn’t alone. She

set a small wedge of thecrabapple bread she’d madeathisbedside,butdoubtedhecouldeatit.Leeseemedtobewatching her closely andMary realizedhewashopingTarawasback.

“She’s not home yet.”Lee closed his eyes. Theyboth knew what this likelymeant. Lee rolled toward thewall. Mary refilled the glassof ORS and begged him to

drink it, reassuring him Tarawouldbebacksoon.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas,Lee.” Lee made no sign ofacknowledgement.

Mary took the pans ofbloody vomit and diarrheaoutwithher.Neverinallheryears as a nurse had she hadto deal with a situation likethis. She knew that now thereal work would begin—disposing of the toxic waste,

trying not to contaminate therest of the house, using theutmost care not to catch itherself.

The day startedwith theclean-up routine, the trip outbacktoburyLee’swaste,anddispose of her gloves andmask.Shewassotired.She’dtried to hold off thinking theworst for as long as shecould, but with the light ofday,Maryknewnow, justas

poor Lee did; something hadgonehorriblywrongwiththerescue.

As she wearily dumpedand covered the contents ofthe pans, it started to snow.Mary stood there for amoment after she finished,face to the sky, fluffy flakesmelting on her skin. Sheopened hermouth to catch asnowflake. Tonight isChristmas Eve. Her heart

ached.

Chapter14Mary carried the

disinfected chamber potsback to Lee’s room, slidingone into the potty chair andplacing the other beside Leeon the bed. Leewatched herwithhisredeyes.

“Howareyoufeeling?”Heshookhisheadslowly

and closed his eyes. Not

good. Mary had alreadydecided to go see Clyde.Maybethatwouldgivehimaboost.

“YouknowTaraplannedtostopatClyde’sonthewayto see the Resistance, Lee.And we both expected herback last night. I think it’stimetogotoClyde’stoseeifheknowsanything.

Lee opened his eyes. “Ithink that’s a good idea,” he

said,voiceweak.Mary could’ve sworn he

looked better after hersuggestion. She noticed twobites from the crabapplebread.At least he’s trying toeat.

“We need to find outsomething. If Clyde doesn’thaveanyidea,Imaytrytogoto the headquarters at thefactory. I hate leaving youalone Lee, but we need to

knowwhat’sgoingon.Lee agreed. “I’ll be

okay.”Hesuredidn’tlookokay.

There just wasn’t any otheroption.Shetookhergunfromher pocket and laid it on thebedsidetable.Itwastooriskyto take it out with her, andthis way Lee could defendhimselfifanyonebrokein.

“Is there anything else Ican leave you?” She glanced

around the sickroom and thenearly full gallon of ORSsitting beside his glass.“DrinkyourORS.”Marytoldhim. Lee nodded. “I’ll beback shortly.” Mary laid herhand on his foot through theblankets.“Trytorest.”

Leenoddedagain,buthiseyes were bright with fever,watching her. He was asdesperate as Mary to knowwhathappenedtoTara.

Mary closed Lee’s doorand went through thedisinfecting routine. Sheretrieved the tinfoilpacketoflast night’s supper for Clydeanddugoutherwarmestcoat.She found her gloves andscarf in the pockets, and putthem on. Mary opened theback door, gave onebackward glance into thekitchen,anddecidedtotakealarge butcher knife, just in

case.So many scenarios had

beenrunninginMary’shead,different ways somethingcould have gone wrong forTara. The Resistance mayhave turned Tara down andshe had to go on her own.Mary knew she would have.Tara is brave, and Lee’s lifeis at stake, so there is noquestion in my mind. Shewouldhaveriskedanything.

Aninchofsoftsnowwason the ground now and stillcoming down. It wasbeautiful, but created theissue of tracks for anyone tofollow. That was afrightening thought. Maryglanced behind her at herobvious progress down thealley,anddecided to stepoffinto the gutter runningalongside the pavement. Shewas still making tracks, but

maybenotquiteasobvious.A sudden noise from

behind her somewhere madeherjerkherheadaround.Shecould just see a white vanpassing on the next streetover. It was cruising slowly,as if looking for something.Mary quickly ducked behinda larger tree trunk, waiting.She heard the van turn left,out onto themain street. It’snot safe out here. Clyde’s

house was just ahead, andMary trotted the last halfblock, wanting to get out ofsight.Onceagain,shelookeddown at her footprints in thesnow, and back over hershoulder.Itworriedher.

She decided to skirt totheleftatClyde’sbackyardtominimize the visible tracks.She walked along the insideborder of some small rosebushesonClyde’sneighbor’s

side.Then she crossed to therear of Clyde’s house,walking in single-file stepsalong the very base of thefoundation. There, thatworks.

Mary glanced around,checking for the van, thenapproached Clyde’s backdoor,knockinglightlyseveraltimes. She waited, and thenknocked again.The soundofthe knob rattling and the

deadbolt unlocking sent ahuge surge of relief throughher.

“Hello Missy!” Clydecalled softly, his voicewaveringwithageanddisuse.The old man beamed at her,obviously grateful forcompany.

“HelloClyde! I am verygladtoseeyouwell.”

“Likewise, my dear,where’s Tara? Did she find

anothersetofboltcutters?”Mary realized now Tara

must have made it there.“Clyde, we haven’t heard athing from her.We expectedher back by last night. Shewas going to go get help tobreak my daughter andgrandsonoutofthecamp.”

Clyde rubbed hiswrinkled chin. “Well, shestopped here first, and whensheleft,sheaskedmeifIhad

bolt cutters. Said she mightneed to come back for them,if the Resistance wouldn’thelp her. She didn’t comeback, so I figured theydecidedtohelp.”

“I don’t know. All Iknow is she didn’t comeback, Clyde, and I’m prettysure something went terriblywrong or she would have.Even if the Resistance toldher to wait until tonight, she

would have come home,because her husband Lee isextremelysick.”

Clyde looked thoughtfulforamoment. “Yes, she toldme about that. Tara’s beenawful good to me. I’mworried about her now,” hesaid.

“Well, you can’t tell thegoodguysfromthebadguysanymore. That’s what scaresme most.” Mary pulled the

tinfoil packet from her coatpocket.“Isavedyousomeoflast night’s supper. It’s notmuch, but I thought youmightenjoyit.”

“Myland,yes,andthankyou, Missy.” Clyde smackedhis lips and turned on thelittle bottled-gas camp stoveon the table. He got a smallpan down from the cupboardandlovinglyscrapedthefoodinto it. Mary watched him

sadly.He trulywas a bag ofparchment-thinskinstretchedover bones.Well, he’s in hisninetiessoIsupposeit’stobeexpected.

“I think I’m going on tothe factory, Clyde. I need toknow what happened. Ibelieve theymaybe theonlyones who do know.” Clydestirred the pan of food andleanedovertosmellit.

“Merry Christmas from

all of us, Clyde,”Mary said.She knew Tara would havedone the same for the oldgentleman.

“Mmm, thank you againfor this,” he told her, “andMerry Christmas to you andyours.Andpleasebecareful.Will you stop back and tellme if youhear anynews? Infact,wouldyoustopbyeitherway?JustsoIknow?”

Mary nodded, agreeing.

“Iwill.”Sheleftbythebackdoor

again, cautiously lookingboth ways before steppingoutside.Maryfollowedalongheroriginaltracks,whichhadalready been nearlyobliterated by fresh snow.Back at the alley, she againwalked in the gutter. Shemade a left turn on the nextstreet, heading toward therailroad tracks, which led to

the factory. The wind rattledthetreesaboveher,obscuringanyothersoundsintheheavysnowfall. It was reallycomingdownnow.

Shedidn’thearthewhitevan’s slow approach in thesoft, thick snow. It muffledthetires.Whenshefinallydidhear,shepanickedandstartedto run. This was the worstthing she could’ve done. Anarmedguardjumpedfromthe

side door and chased herdown easily, wrestling herbackinside.

Dear God no. All shecouldthinkofwasLee,dyingaloneofEbola.

~

Tara opened her eyes tosee Julie sitting on the edgeof her cot, watching her.“Whattimeisit?”

“It’s almost noon. It is

Christmas Eve day and it’ssnowing,” Julie said with asmile.

Tara sat up, rubbing thesleep from her eyes. “God, Imisscoffee.”

Julie gave one of herlittle snorts and agreed.“Lunchlineshouldstartsoon,ifthat’sanyconsolation.”

Tara’s stomach growledat the thought. She glancedabout the room. A few

residents shambled zombie-like around the large space.Others sat on the edges oftheir cots, waiting for foodapparently. Ben was stillcurledupbesidehismom,buthe suddenly opened his eyesand flashed her a beautifulsmile.

“Hello, honey.” Tararealized Julie was right. Hisweakness was a blessing indisguise.Achildhereinthese

conditions was beyondterrible.

“Hi,” Ben answered,closing his eyes again. Julierubbed his back, leaningdown to kiss him. “Melanieoften does blood-typing onnew patients in the lunchroom. If she’s there, I’mgoing to try toget the tubingandplasma,sowe’llbereadyto run. Lee’s blood type isO?”

“YesO,sameasmine.”“Good. That means you

can receive plasma from alldonors. That will make iteasier for her to steal some,I’msure.”

“I’mgladyouknow thisstuff, because I sure don’t,”Taratoldher.

“The plasma is frozentoo,bytheway.Itlastsuptoayearifyoukeepitlikethat.If Mel can get us some, we

canslideitunderthefenceatthe edge of the building,along with the tubing andneedles. Thank God, it’s socold, it will keep it fromthawing. I remember yearswhere December was morelikefall.”

Tara nodded. “That’s agreat idea—they took mybackpack, so I havenowhereelse toput it. I’mgladnowIdidn’tbringmygun.Itwould

be long gone.” She had asudden vision of the boltcutters, just yards away fromthefence.“Ilaidapairofboltcutters down on the bankoutside. I’dkill tohave themnow.” She saw a shadowcrossJulie’sface.

“Do you really think theresistancewillbecoming forus?”

The more Tara thoughtabout it, the more her doubt

increased,especiallynowthatKevin was dead. If theysomehowknowKevin’sgone,orevenhaveanyinklingofit,I don’t think we’d be worththe risk. However, shecouldn’t tell Julie that. Noway. Maybe Julie’s positivethinking and her putting outall that rescue imagery intothe universe might actuallyhelpus.

“I know they will,” she

lied.Julie’s expression

softened again, and Taraknewshe’ddone right to fib.The image of Kevin’s sonLuke, and his wife Jennyflashed in her mind, and herstomach clenched. She hadonlymetthemoncethatnightKevin had approached herand Mary. Tara thought sheremembered seeing his wifeinthefactoryofficetheretoo,

but neither had come on therescuemission.Tarapicturedtheir agony on learning theirhusband and father had beentaken. If they knew he wasdead,shebelievedthatwouldkeep them from helping her.It’sallmyfault.

A whistle sounded fromsomewhere outside, and theinhabitants of the barracksbegan a slow zombie-ishshuffletowardthedoor.Julie

stood up, lifting Ben in herarms.

Herewego.TarastayedclosetoJulie

as they took their placeamong the others heading tothedoor.Sherememberedherfacemask, and pulled it uparound her mouth and nose.Everyone filed through,roughly two at a time,following those ahead ofthem across the snowy

expanse between theirbuilding and the next. Tarawassurprisedtoseesomuchsnowhadfallenandwasstillcomingdown.Avisionoftheboltcutterscoveredinathickwhite blanket flashed in herhead. She was still trying tofigureoutsomewaytogetatthem.

Theywalked the twenty-five feet across to the lunchbarracks, located in what

appeared to be a hastilyassembled building amongtherowsofnewconstruction.Another line of peoplecoming from somewherebeyond the lunch buildingwasintegratingintotheirline.Alarmed, Tara inclined herhead in their direction. Julieanswered with a frown,“Thosearen’tsurvivors.”

ThisfrightenedTara,andbefore she could quiz Julie

further, they arrived at thedoor.

AsTara stepped throughthe threshold, the smell offood struck her, and herstomach instantly reactedwithagrowl.EvenlittleBen,in Julie’s arms, raised hishead. His mother whisperedto him, “I’m setting youdown now,” and she did,making sure he had hisbalancebeforesheletgo.

Tara glanced around atthe rows and rows of picnictables.The frontof the roomhad a steel counter that rannearly the full length of thebuilding, stoves andrefrigerators lined up behindit. The food workers stoodjust on the other side of thecounter, their whitefacemasks hiding allexpression.

Julie began telling her a

little about the victuals.“When they go back aroundthe neighborhoods to collectthe people they’vevaccinated, they raid theirpantries too.” Julie paused.“Sort of seems like addinginsult to injury, doesn’t it?Anyway, the crews alwaysknow which houses areempty, so they take all thecans stored in the homes.They’velongsinceraidedthe

WalmartandDollarStoresinthestripmallout front.Theyhavefoodcollectiondowntoa science, but they still don’tfeed us much.” She strokedBen’s head sadly. “Yes, theyneed us, but we’reexpendable. I guess wewouldn’t be eating muchbetter on the outsideanyway.”

TaratoldJulieitwasbadon the outside, and they had

been foraging for wild food,soasouplinelookedgoodtoher. The kitchen workersbehindthelongmetalcounterdippedoutladlesfullofsoup,andsplashed themintowhitebowls with the spoonsalready in them. The linemoved slowly, each persontakingtheirbowlandmovingofftositatapicnictable.

As Tara approached herbowlandreachedoutforit,a

noisefrombehindthemmadeher jerk quickly around.Someone in the line a fewpersonsdownfromthemwasthrowing up. People werebackingawayfromhim.Taracaughtsightofhiswhitefaceas he retched, and the bloodpouringfromhismouth.Julieimmediately pushed herforward, grabbing a bowl forBen and herself, as Tarasecuredherown.

They rushed to the farend of the room,where Juliedirected Tara to sit as faraway from all the others asshecould.Mostpeoplestayedclosesttothedoor,nothavingenoughstrengthtogoasinglestep further than theyabsolutelyneeded.

The shock of anobviously active Ebolapatient rattled Tara badly.Julie noticed the expression

onherface.“All these barracks are

supposed to be for differentstages of virus—survivors,newcases,yellowdonors,reddonors. Sometimes, someoneis mixed up and puts thewrongone inwith thewronggroup. There’s not exactlyany reason for good qualitycontrolhere.”

“Oh,myGod.”ItwasallTara could say. She

frantically adjusted herfacemask,makingsureitwastight. “But peoplewho don’thave it will catch it!” Tarawasangryatthissituationfora brief moment, until Julielaughed. Then sheremembered the truth of thisplace.

“It doesn’t matter.Everyonegetsthevirus.Theydie, or they live; it’s all thesametothem.That’stheplan.

It’sourpurpose,soitdoesn’tmatter. It’s our existencehere.TheyareGod.”

Tara had a momentwhereshecouldn’tbreathe—knowing the virus particleswere in the air, beingconfronted inaverybigwayby therealityof thisplace, itwas too much. She couldn’teat. Julie noticed her sittingtherestaringintoherbowlassheandBenslurpedthethick

soup.“Tara, eat. You have to.

It’s all we get, once a day.”Tara pulled down her mask,lifted her spoon and numblytookabite.Itwasn’tbad.Fullof vegetables and starches, ithad both potatoes and rice,made of beef stock, butwithvery little meat. After whatTara had been eating for thepast months, it wasacceptable, even good. That

is,ifitweren’tforthepuddleof blood and vomit on theother side of the room. Shelooked over and threeworkers inhazmatsuitswerenow cleaning up the mess,but that wasn’t muchconsolation. Just then, ashuffling resident in the lineslipped in the puke and fell.Tara couldn’t watch anylonger.

Tara lifted the spoon to

herlipsoverandover,lostina strange sort ofdisassociation. She didn’treallytastethesoupafterthatfirstbite,didn’tfeelithittingher stomach and quelling thehungerthere.Shedidn’tevenfeel thehunger thathadbeenan ever-present friend formonths.Nothingseemedreal.She began to come back tothe present as the traumafaded a bit, and she

recognized this feeling wasprobably shock. JuliemadeanoiseandTaralookedup.

“There’s Mel,” she said,inclining her head in thedirection of the door. Aplump, dark-haired olderwomanhadentered theroomand was making her wayamong the picnic tables,asking questions andspeakingwiththoseeating.

“Every single day, each

time I see her, I’m surprisedshe hasn’t disappeared. Shehastoomuchcompassionforthis place. But I think theyknow they need her, for thatvery reason. Sort of the“public face” of this place,”Julie said, making thequotation marks with herfingers. “But if they onlyknew the sordid details ofhowshe’shelpedsomanyofus, it might not go too well

for her. She’d vanish too,straight to the bonfire. Shetrulycaresaboutusall.”

Tara watched as thenursemoveddownthelineoftables with a clipboard,stopping once or twice toprick a finger and smear thedrop of blood onto a card.Shenotatedeachwristwithamagicmarker,andthenwrotethe blood type on her listbesidetheirname.

“Later on, they give youa tattoo of your type. Theycan’t have some billionairegetting sick from the wrongbag of plasma.” Julie pushedup her sleeve and showedTara the “A” permanentlystamped on the inside of herwrist. She held up Ben’s forher to see too.Theboywentbacktoeatinghissoup.

“Whydidtheyputmeinwithyousurvivors?”

“Maybe they thoughtyou’dsurvivedit.Evenifyouhadn’t, they know you’llcatch it sooner or later, likewe did. Then someonedecides whether you’ll begiven the cure, or left tobecome a human petri dish.Luckily for us, Mel decidedour fates.” She sighed.“Sometimes, I’m not so sureif we were lucky.” Taraunderstood. This was not

living. More like barelysurviving.

“But ifwe get out soon,it was all worth it.” Juliesmiled at her, and Tara feltguilty for lying about theirchances. This poor womanand her frail little boydeservedbetter.

Melanie, the nurse,started down their aisle,smiling widely when shespotted Julie and Ben. “My

favorite patients,” she calledout.Benhadjustfinishedhissoup and hugged the womanaround thewaist. She ruffledhis hair and looked at Taracuriously.

“ThisismyfriendTara,”Julie told thewoman, “and Ihaveafavortoask.”

“Are you the womancaught outside the fence?”The suddenly seriousexpressiononthenurse’sface

scared Tara, and she noddedmeekly.

“I heard what happenedto your friend. I’m afraid hetold them everything—aboutthe Resistance, but heobviously did not implicateyou. Otherwise, you wouldnotbehererightnow.”

Cold fear surged upinside Tara, tinged withgratitude for Kevin’sselflessness, which brought

relief so sharp and suddenthat she thought she mightpassout.

“Theymay try to rescueus soon, I’m not sure,” Taratoldher.Julieandhermotherare both nurses, and theyneed that badly, but myhusbandisathome,verysicknow.”

Melanie looked at Julie,and she nodded, confirmingTara’s story. “We need

plasma,Mel, and tubing andneedlesforatransfusion,typeO. Iwant tobe ready if theycome.Idon’twanttotellyouany more. That way, if youdon’t know, they can’t get itoutofyou.”

Melanienodded,strokingBen’shair.“Iwanttoseehimout of here. You too, ofcourse,butthisisnoplaceforachild.”Hereyessoftenedasshe smiled at Julie and then

Tara. “Yes, I’ll help. I’ll beover later today. I will typeyourblood,Tara,andslipyouwhatyouneed.Pleasebesurenot to get caught with it. Ihopetheycomeforyou,”shesaid,sincerityinhervoice.

“Thank you, Mel, somuch. I can never repay youfor all you’ve done,” Julietoldher.

The nurse shook herhead. “No, I can never do

enough. I’ve been a part ofthisabomination. Iwill carryitwithme for the rest ofmydays. I hope they come foryousoon.”

Tara understood herfeelings. Melanie moved onto the next table after givingBenone last pat and a tilt oftheheadtoTara.

They finished their mealand headed back to theirbarracks.Tarawidely skirted

the spot where the man hadthrown up blood, whileholding her facemask tightlytohermouth.

As the afternoon woreon,TarasangsomeChristmascarols to Ben, telling himwhat Santa Claus wouldprobably bring him once hewas out of this place. Theywaited on edge until theyfinally saw the figure ofMelaniecomingtowardthem.

She carried her usual basketfull of blood typing supplies.Withherbacktotheentranceeffectively concealing hermovements, she prickedTara’s finger, and drew an“O” inside her wrist, thenwrote the results on theclipboard. Then she reachedinto the basket and removedtwo square, frozen plasticbags of plasma, some tubingand a couple needles, setting

them on the cot and pullingJulie’sblanketoverthem.

“Merry Christmas,”Melanie told them. “They’rehaving a company party upfront. Now might be a goodtime to hide this.” With awink and a smile, she turnedto go, but seemed toremember something andcameback.

“They’re ramping upproduction. Three thousand

people just arrived, and threethousand more are coming.Literally almost all thesurvivors left in the state.”Melanie paused, as Tararemembered theeyespeeringout through slats on passingtrucks. A dawning horrorcrept into her soul. She wasafraidtoknowmore,buthadtoknow.“Why?”

“Allof themwillget the“vaccinations,” but this time,

half are going to beincubators for the virus.Onehalfwillbeallowedtolivetobecome donors. If theResistance does come foryou,pleasetellthemthis.Tellthem that three thousandinnocent people are about todie within a week—allbecause one evil man wantstobeabillionaire.”

Melanie walked away,leavingTaraandJuliestaring

into one another’s eyes. Atear slid down Julie’s face,butshesaidnothing.Taraputher head in her hands andprayedforamiracle.

Whenshewasdone, shewalked to the door of theexercise pen and looked out.It was Christmas Eve. Shemissed Lee so badly, herhearthurt.

The snow fell pristineandwhite, covering the dark

ground all around the camp.Tara wished it couldsomehow cover the heart ofdarkness that beat at thecenterofthisawfulplace.

Chapter15With a sigh and forced

optimism, Tara began tomove. “C’mon, Julie, youheard the woman. Let’s hidethis stuff.” Tara glancedaround to make sure it wasclear, then bundled the itemsinsidehercoat.Juliearrangedthe blanket around Ben whowas again sleeping soundly.

They exited onto thepavementoftheexercisepen,Tara again scanning thesurrounding area to be surenoonewaswatching.

Shewalkedtothecornerof the pen closest to thebuilding, intenton inspectingthe fence and exactly how itattached to the blocks. Assoonasshesawthesteelpoststanding alongside thecement, her excitement rose.

Sureenough,therewasagapof about an inch or so, bigenoughtopushthetubingandneedles in their plastic bagsthrough, followed by thefrozenenvelopesofplasma.

The stiff plasma leanedagainst the concrete wall,makingasortoflean-toshapeand hiding the needles andtubing below it. Snowflakesimmediately began toaccumulate on top, covering

itnicely.Taraknew itwouldsoon be quite inconspicuous,looking just like any othersectionofthewall.

Bonus. So far so good,we need all the luck we canget. She backed away,wishing she felt better aboutthe resistance rescuing them.However, Tara didn’t thinkany amount of luck wouldhelp them there. The plasmamight be good until spring

thaw,butunlessshecouldgetout, itwould be useless. Leeneededitsoonorhewouldbedead.

Juliewashuddledon thebench, watching peopleleaving the rows of barracksbeyond the bonfire. Tara satdown beside her, her jointsalready stiff with cold. Taratoo began to stare at theslowlymovingfiguresjoiningthe line that snaked into the

mess hall. Three thousandmore, my God, the man isinsane.Shecouldnot fathomwhat was happening. It wassimply unbelievable. If sheweren’t in the middle of it,she would never havebelievedit.

Tara brushed the snowoff Julie’s scarf-coveredhead. “I’m glad we’re theonlyonesouthere.”

“Ever since that night I

got through to Mom’s cell,I’ve been out here. No oneelse comes out. They’re tootired.We all gave our blooddonations yesterday beforeyouarrived,andnormallywewould be drawn again todayor tomorrow. With it beingChristmas, I don’t know.Theymighttakeadayoff.”

Tara didn’t answer. Shewas still too horrified by theprospect. She watched the

people cross the concourse,the line bending, snaking,growing, but ever so slowlyinching forward at a snail’space.Justasshecouldseetheend of the line, anotherbarracks would release theiroccupants and it swelledagain. Both women satstaring, mesmerized, sayingnothing.

Tara felt her eyes drawnto a figure just coming into

view, leaving the fourthbuilding back. Somethingabout the person seemedfamiliar, jogging a memorysomehow.Tara stared, tryingto place what it was.Suddenly, a sense of suretycameoverher.Shegotuponstiff legs and toddled to thefence,eyeswide.

“Julie,comehere.”Julie joined her there.

“Do you see that person in

the dark coat with the whitescarf and hat? Right there,behind the man in the redjacket?” Tara pointed themout.

Julie squinted to see. Itwas still quite far away, ahundredyardsback.

“Mom!” Julie breathed,clutching her fingers into thediamond-shaped links of thefence, rattling it. They bothwatchedinsuspenseforafew

secondsmore.“It’s her,” Julie cried

softly,“Mom—Mary!”“Julie, calm down, it’s

notsafe!”Tararemindedher,glancing around for guards,but Julie was beside herselfnow,outofcontrol.“MOM!”she screamed. Tara grabbedat her, clamping one handover her mouth. She’s goingtogetuskilled!Marytoo!

Julie gurgled and

squealed under Tara’s hand,trying to pull away andsquirmfree.

“Stop it!” hissed Tara,appealing to Julie’s commonsense. “You’re going to gether killed! Stop it right thisinstant!”

Julie’swildeyesfocusedonTara’s for amoment. Shestopped struggling andnodded. She understood andcalmedherself.Taratookher

hand away from Julie’smouthslowly;readytoclampit back on if necessary. Juliewas crying now, big tearscoursingdownhercheeks.

“It’s okay, Julie. Letmetrytogetherattention.”Theywaited at the fence as thefoodlineslowlycameabreastof their position. Tara couldsee Mary’s face turned theirway, perhaps having heardJulie scream. Tara searched

again for a guard, but sawnone.Sheraisedonearmandwaved it back and forthtwice. Mary responded—sheraised hers once, but did notwave.

Sheseesus!Tarapointedstraight out to the side,toward the entrance door totheir building. She thoughtshe sawMarynod. Juliewascrying heavily now,heartbreakingsobs.

“Shh,” Tara told her,“It’s okay—she’s okay. I’mgoing to get her in heresomehow, Julie. Wait here.”Tara knew she couldn’t sendJulie inside to do this. Thegirl’s distress was toonoticeable.

Running on adrenalinalone, Tara reentered thebuilding,movingquicklypastBen and the other cots withtheir dozing residents. She

reached the far door,waitinguntil she thoughtMary’s linehad most likely just aboutreachedthemesshalldirectlyacross from them. It was allshe could do not to open thedoor, but Tara knew the riskif a guard or kitchen workerspottedthem.

Finally, to give enoughtime, she counted to onehundred in her head. Taraeased the door slowly open.

There was Mary in the linejust twenty-five feet away.Mary’sfacelitupwithjoy.

Glancing in alldirections, Tara saw it wasnow or never. She motionedto her friend to come, andMarydid,atameasuredpacesoasnottoraisesuspicion.Itwas the longest twenty-fivefeet Tara had ever markedoff.

As Mary stepped inside

the door safe, Tara huggedher with all her might. “Oh,Mary, my God, whathappened? Where’s Lee?”Tara didn’t wait for ananswer,realizingtherewasn’ttime for her to explain. ShetookMary’s hand andpulledher across the large buildingtowardthebackcorner.Whenthey reached the sleepingBen, Mary scooped him upwithagasp,blanketandall.

Tara opened the backdoor and motioned her out.She sawBen blinking sleepyeyes as his grandma coveredhisfacewithkisses,thenthatbeautiful smile again. Maryalmost stumbled forwardgoing out the door, andTaracaughther.

Julie rushed to wrap herarms around her mother andson. All Tara could do wasshush them as they cried,

covering them protectivelywith her arms and swivelingherheadaround towatch forthreats. Finally, Tara pulledthemtothebenchandtheyallsat down together, whileMarybegantoexplain.

“Iwent to find outwhathappenedtoyou,Tara.IwenttoClyde’s,andwasheadedtothe factory. The white vansare out, doing some sort ofsweep or something. I didn’t

hear them drive up behindme.”

InherjoyandexcitementtoseeMaryandgetherinsidewith them, Tara had no timeto absorb what this meant.Leewas alone. The creepingdread of this suddenrealization made Taranauseous.“HowisLee?”

Mary shook her head.“Oh,Tara,IwishIcouldlie,but he’s not good. He’s

vomiting blood as of thismorning,buthewantedmetogotofindoutwhathappenedto you. I never in a millionyearsthoughtthevanswouldbe out. Neither did he, I’msure.”

Julie chimed in, tellinghermotherabouttherampingup of production and therounding up of the lastsurvivors. This led to morequestions from Mary, and

having to break the newsaboutthecamp’struemissionin all its horror. Mary juststaredatthemindisbelief.

“It’ssomuchworsethanwethought,”shefinallysaid,and Julie and Tara agreed.TheysatinsilenceforawhileasMary rocked Ben back tosleep. Tara’s thoughtscentered on Lee, and howphysicallyclosehewas,lyingin bed just blocks down the

road. Then her mind movedontotheplasma,andfinally,to the bolt cutters under thesnow somewhere only yardsaway. Tara put her head inherhandsandbegantocryinfrustration and agony. Lee isgoing to die, alone andhorribly. She wouldn’t bethere for him, after all thetimeshe’dbeenthereforher.

Mary wrapped an armaround Tara’s shoulders, and

JuliegotupandscootedovertoTara’s other side, huggingher too. Julie and Mary hadbeen reunited, and thatmadeTarahappy for them,but sadforherself.

After a good cry, Tarathankedthemandapologized,but they brushed her wordsasideandtoldherhowstrongshealwayswas.Eventhoughthis was her worst-casescenario, Tara was grateful

for Julie and Mary beingthere.

No one said much asthey watched the line ofpeople dwindle anddisappear.Everyonehadnowbeenfed.Tarawasstilllostinquiet despair over Lee. Thethought of him home aloneand so sicknearlykilledher.Itwasthemosthelplessshe’deverfelt.

“IwonderifIcouldbribe

a guard to let me out?” shemused aloud, then answeredher own question. “Butwhatdo I even have left to bribethemwith?”

“It would be too risky,Tara,” Julie softly told her,and Tara knew that.However, she also knew shewas desperate enough to tryanything. Now that Julie’smother was here, Taracouldn’t sustain the lie any

longer. It was time to tellthemwhatshereallythought.

“Noone’scoming togetus, Julie. I only said that togive you hope.” Julie juststaredatherandTaracradledher head back in her hands.Noonespokeafterthat.

The late afternoon grewdarker and turned to dusk asthe women sat side by sideoccasionally brushing thesnowoffoneanother.Finally,

Mary broke the silence. “Atleast we’re together, and IthankGodforthat,”shesaid,holding the sleeping Bentightly.Tara conceded itwasbetter than being alone. LikeLee. Then she started to cryagain.

~The old man sat at his

tablelookingoutthewindowas the afternoon light faded.

He had waited on manythings in his life; the safebirthsofhischildren;victoryinWorldWar II; and finallyin recent years, for his longlife to come to an end. Butwaiting on Mary to returnwith news—something,anything—this seemedinterminable. He wasnormally a patient man, asmostwhoreachtheirninetiesare.He learned longago that

not many things are hurriedby worrying about them.Oncedaylightfaded,bothhishope and hismood darkenedalongwiththenight.

Clyde got up from thetableandmovedslowlyaboutthesmallroom,pickingupanoldframedphotographofhimandhissweetheart.Hesmiledattheiryoung,innocentfaces,him in his Marine uniformand she in a tailored suit. It

was theirwedding photo.Hestillmissedherafteralltheseyears.

Clyde put the picturedown, and walked to thecloset door. His old uniformhung inside. He had wantedtobeburiedinit,butdoubtedthere was anyone left to seeto that. He brushed at theshoulders of the jacket, thenlifted the hanger out andbrought it into the light,

admiringit.Hehungitonthedoorknob. He thought thatmaybehewouldhavetotryitonsoon.

~Thewomensatshivering

on the bench in the snowynight, but no one wanted togo inside. Julie and Maryhuddled together,occasionally talking aboutminor things. They tried todraw Tara into conversation,

butshewasmute.Herdespairhadturnedtopeevishnessandshe fought an internal battle,trying not to resent Julie andMary’sgoodfortuneatbeingreunited.

The stillness of thefalling snow blanketing thecamp was beautiful, yet sadtoo. It brought back otherChristmas Eves for Tara, inhappiertimes.Shesteeredherthoughtsawayfromthat,and

fromLee.Therewasnothingshe could do but pray, andfinally that is exactly whatshedid.Sheprayed forhelp,for peace, and mostly, foracceptanceofhersituation.

Tara’s joints felt frozensolid and she stretched herlegs out, deciding maybe itwastimetogoin.Tomorrowwasdonationandvaccinationday.Maybethiswouldbethebeginningof her end.Maybe

she’d meet Lee on the otherside. Tarawrapped hermindaround acceptance ofwhateverfatehadplannedforher. She was no longer sosure there was a God. I giveup. There’s nothing more Ican do. She’d decided tomeetherendstoically.

Suddenly, the faint rattleof dry brush behind themcaught her attention. It wasthe first sound in the truly

silent night. She turnedslightly, looking back overher shoulder at the fence.Who is that!Tara gasped. Adark-haired figure crouchedthere. Her sharp intake ofbreathdrewMaryandJulie’sattention.

“Who are you?” Tarademanded, hissing throughher teeth. The man came tothefence.

“It’sLuke,Kevin’sson.”

“Oh, dear God, Luke!”Tara’s excitement wasinstantly doused by guilt. Ihave to tell him about hisDad.

Luke leaned close towhisper through thefence.“Ibrought binoculars to theridge to see if I could spotDad. Then I saw you outhere, so I waited until dark.What’s happened, where ismy Dad?” Julie and Mary

formed a sort of barrierwithTara, so no onewho enteredthe yard would see Lukecrouchedthere.

“Oh, Luke, I have badnews.I’msuretheResistancetoldyouhewent toscout theentrance and they capturedus.”

Luke nodded, “Yes, Iheard.I’vebeenworriedeversince. So has Mom.” Tarahated to say the next words,

todestroythisboy’sfamilyina fewwords. She stared intohisdarkeyes.

“Luke, they kept yourdad to interrogate him, Iassume.We think that’s howthey know all about theResistance.” Tara paused.“He didn’t give me awaythough, and I’m so grateful.I’msosorrytotellyouthis—we sawKevin’s body on thebonfire the next morning.”

Tara closed her eyes. Allstrength left her with thesewords.

TaraopenedhereyesandsawLuke sagwith thenews.He put his head down for amoment.“Helikedyou,Tara.He really wanted to helpyou.”

Thesuddenvisionof thebolt cutters Kevin haddropped just feet fromwhereLukecrouchedflashed inher

mind.“Luke,canyouhelpusnow? Kevin left bolt cuttersjustdownthebankfromyou.Please find them! Please cutusoutofhere!”

The boy sprang intoaction.Tarasawtearsshiningonhisface,buthepushedhisgriefasideandwenttowork.

“Where, Tara? Pointthemout.”

“Look for the handles,Luke, there should be two

longlumpsofsnow,differentfrom the rest of the ground.Right over there, below thebank.” Tara pointed. Thewomen stood, barely daringto breathe. No one couldbelievethismightbeit.Theywatched as Luke swept hisfoot across the snow-coveredearth,backandforth,movingsection by section. Suddenly,hestoppedandreacheddownfor something. The bolt

cutters!“My God, Ladies, let’s

go!”criedTara.“Quick,overto the corner,” Tara pointedtoshowLukewheretobegin.She glanced behind her outinto the concourse betweenthe barracks, but no guardswere around. They were allup front having theirChristmas party. Tara almostscreamed with joy. Not yet,we’re not out, not yet. She

triedtocalmherself,knowingtheir escape could bepreventedatanymoment.

“I should go in and getourstuff,”Juliewhispered.

“NO! No one goes in!Weleavewithwhatwehave.It’s too dangerous. We havetogoNOW!”

Tara pointed toward thepostwhere the plasma lay atitsbase.ShetoldLukewhatitwas, andwhat itwas for.He

started in the bottom corner,working quickly to clip eachdiamondshaped linkuntilhewas able to peel back asectionlargeenoughforthemtogetout.

“Let’s go,” breathedTara. She pulled everyonethrough, Mary shushing Benwhohadawakened.TaraandLuke pushed the fence backdownintoplace,makingsureit stayed there. Surveying

theirhandiworkquickly,Taraknew no one would even beable to tell it had been cut.This would make all thedifference for them, time-wise, buying them extrahours.

She scooped up theplasma and tubing, tuckingpartof it inherpockets.Onebag of plasma Tara stuffedinside her shirt next to herbody, shivering at the icy

cold, but Lee needed itthawed, so this was the bestwayshecouldthinkof.

Crouching low, theymoved quickly up the slickpath to the ridge, sliding andcatching themselves withtheirhands,butfinallyexitingontothehillabovethecamp.Luke helped pull Mary up,Ben still in her arms. Taracould not believe they hadescaped.At the top, she took

amomenttohugLuke.“Thank you, thank God

foryou,Luke.Youansweredmyprayers.”Shesawhissadface, and realized just howbadhemust feel. Inherownexcitement,shehadforgottenhe losthis father ina terribleway, and that it was due tohisfathertryingtohelpTara.

“I’m so sorry for yourloss, Luke, so very sorry.Your dad was a good man

who raised a good son. Hewould be so proud of you.”The young man nodded andput his head down. He wasobviously devastated. “Luke,the camp just got thousandsmore people. They plan togivethemEbolaandletthreethousand of them die just tocultivate more of the virus.We must stop it somehow.Yourdadwouldwantusto.”

Luke appeared shocked

by this new information.“That bastard,” he breathed.“Please hurry to the factory,Tara. When they find yougone, they’ll come after usall. They know about theResistance now, and at leastwehavetheresourcestheretoputupafight.Maybewecanthink of a way to stop theirplans, or at least slow themdown.”

“Yes, we’ll come, Luke.

As soon as we can get theplasma into Lee and find away to transport him.” Shesuddenly remembered herancient friend Clyde. “Canyougototheoldman’shousethere in the alley? His nameis Clyde. Can you tell himwhat’s happened to us?Maybeconvincehimtocometoo?”Lukesaidheknewrightwhere it was and wouldswing by and deliver the

message.They parted ways, Luke

into the woods towardClyde’s and the railroadtracks beyond. Mary stillcarried Ben, and Julie askedifsheneededtotakehim,butshe saidno.Shewasmakingupforlosttimewiththelittleguy.Theyalltrottedasfastasthey could, down the longsnowy country road to theedge of town. Tara helped

support Julie, since she wassoweak.Theydidn’teventryto hide their tracks now. Itwasfartoolateforthat.

Assheranalongtheroadwith the women who had sorecently been strangers, Tararealized something. She andLee had always stayedisolated, partly from thewound they’d suffered whentheiryoungsonwaskilledsolong ago. They had felt so

alone in their grief, and thisjust naturally extended on totheir interactions with theworld ever since. Now, Tarasaw how good it was to beclose to someone. She lovedthese women with all herheart.Theyhadsavedher, inmorewaysthanone.

As they left the countryroad and entered the edge oftown,Tarasawtheheadlightsofawhitevan,cruisingpasta

side streetablockaway.Herheartwasinherthroatasshepointed, and the womenpicked up their pace. Juliewas gasping for air, butgiving it her all. The vandidn’t see them and musthave turned the oppositedirection. That was all thatmattered.

Theywereclosetohomenow. Tara’s fear grew alongwith her excitement—to see

Lee, to save him. Theyreached the backyard whereTara’s car sat covered insnow.Sherushedtothebackporch, fumblingwith thekeyshe dug from her pocket.Flinging open the door, Tarascreamed Lee’s name. Maryand Julie came right behindher with Mary detouring tothesofatolayBendown.

Takingthestairstwoatatime, Tara reached Lee’s

room. She did not want tostop long enough to put themask and gloves on. She nolonger cared if she died. Sheonlywanted to savehim,butJuliejerkedTara’shandfromthe knob. “You will put iton!”Juliecried.SoTaradid.Mary arrived then and suitedupalongwithJulie.Tarawasnearlydone,racingtogettheprotectiveitemson.

WhenTara finally threw

open the door, she saw Leecurled on the bed, the smellofvomitandthesharptangofsomething else, heavy in theair. It was blood. His facewas white and covered withit. The bucket wasoverflowing; Lee hadobviously tried to get out ofbed for the toilet but failed.On seeing his stillness, Taraknew the worst hadhappened.

“He’sdead.”

Chapter16

The young man woveamong the houses along thealley, not trusting the safetyof the road.He had seen theold man out in his backyardmany times while onreconnaissance with his dad.In fact, they’d exchangedgreetings a few times.At thethought of his father’s body

thrownontoabonfire likesomuch trash, rage rose withinhim. His vision swam for amoment until he gainedcontrol.Iwillpaythemback,Meyers and all his lot. Or Iwill die trying. He dreadedtelling his mom what hadhappened.Itwasallhecoulddo to keep going, knowingwhat lie ahead, how shewould collapse at the news.His desire alone fueled him;

for an accounting, areckoning.

Hereachedtheoldman’s—Clyde’s— backyard, andcarefully checked in alldirections. Luke didn’t wantto get captured now. Hewanted his revenge and hewanteditattheendofarifle—preferably, one he washolding.Heknockedsoftlyatthe back door and it wasopenedbyClyde,hisgrizzled

facewary.“Hello,youngman,canI

helpyou?”Recognitionlituphis eyes all at once. “Aren’tyoutheboywhogoesaroundherewithyourdad?”

Pain took Luke’s breathaway for a minute. Henodded, gathering himself.“Yes, I’m here to deliver amessage from your friend,Tara.Ibrokethemoutof thecamp—Mary was there too.

So was my dad. Theycaptured them all, but theykilledmydad.”

“Ohno,”Clyde said.Hetouched Luke’s shouldersadly, and Luke fought backtears at this kind gesture.Hecomposed himself, and toldClyde the basic story, howthey’d been caught andwhatthe camp was planning. Heexplained Tara and Marywere bringing Tara’s sick

husband to the factory. HetoldClyde thatTarahadsenthim there to beg Clyde tocomeaswell.

Clyde stood thinking asLuke watched, spent andemotionallyexhausted.

“Okay,” he said quietly.“I believe Imay join you allsoon.”

Clyde shook Luke’shand,givinghimcondolenceson his father. “You are a

braveyoungman.Sometimesit takes all we have to stopevil. Sometimes it takes toomuch. It’s the sacrificerequired to keep the worldsafe.”

Luke nodded, saidgoodbye and started home.The factory was his homenow, and it would seem anemptyplacewithouthisdad.

~Clyde watched the

defeated young man walkaway with shouldersslumped. He went backinside, his thoughts swirling.Things had gone too far.What sort of evil was thisman Meyers? It remindedhim a lot of Hitler. Clydecaught sight of his ancientMarine duds hanging on thedoorknob. The uniformsparkedanidea.Hewalkedtothe old hand-cranked radio,

the Gibson Girl, and satdown. Maybe he could findsomething out on his own.Maybe it was time to call inthetroops.

~Tara stood in stunned

silence, staring at the deadbody of her husband. Marypushed past her into theroom,Julierightbehind.

“Lee, wake up!” Maryshouted.Sheflippedbackthe

covers at his feet andwhackedthemwithonehand.

Suddenly, Lee groanedandstirred.Tara’sheart leaptintoherthroatandshenearlycollapsed against Julie. Tarapulled out the plasma fromnext to her body. It wasnearlythawed.Julietookitinher warm hands, agitating itgently, and Tara handed hertheneedleandtubing.

Mary spoke quietly to

Lee, telling him Tara washerenow,andthattheyhadatransfusion for him andeverything was going to bealright. Lee opened his eyesand seemed to focus on herbriefly,thendriftedoffagain.

Mary grabbed thedisinfectant on the table andwiped down Lee’s arm. Sheand Julie worked in tandem,attaching the tubing to thenow liquefied bag, then the

needle,finallyinsertingitintoLee.Hedidn’tevenflinch,hewas too far gone. Julie heldthebaghigh,andMaryatonepoint squeezed it to deliverthedosemore rapidly.All inall, it took about thirtyminutes.

Tara began cleaning upthemessandtheothersjoinedherassoonasthetransfusionwasfinished.Taraopenedthewindow and placed the

secondbagofplasmaoutsideon the roof tokeep it frozen.TarawashedLeenext, goingin search of fresh sheets andblankets for his bed. Thewomen worked efficientlytogether, and finallyLeewassleeping soundly in cleanbedclothes.Thegarbagebagswere full ofdirty linens.Thebucket and slop jar full ofwastewerecarefullywrappedand covered. Tara stood

staring down at Lee amoment more before theytook everything outside toburyinthepit.

“We have to leave rightaway,”Tara told thewomen.“We have to move Leesomehow,andgethim to thefactory.Idon’tthinkit’ssafetoevenstaythenight.”

Mary agreed, but Juliehad hoped to settle in forlonger.“Areyousure?Idon’t

think they will find usmissingyet—they’retoobusywiththeirChristmasparty!”

“It’s just too dangerous,Julie. What if someone doeshappen to notice our emptycots?Orthecutfence,orourtracksinthesnowoutsideit?You saw the van pass by onthewayhome.We just can’trisk it. We’ve come too far.And I never want to see theinside of that camp again.”

Juliefinallyagreed.They went through the

sterilization routine andreturned the chamber potsand bucket to Lee’s room.They gathered in the livingroom where Ben still layasleeponthesofa.

“Poor little guy, he’sbeen throughsomuch,”Tarasaid.Marypulledthesleepingchild onto her lap, notwantingtobeapartfromhim.

Tara took stock of thesituation.“Okay,numberonepriority is to haul Lee to thefactory. I think he could curlupintheyardcart.Wecouldwrap blankets around him. Idon’t know what they’regoing to think of someonecontaminatedcomingintherewith them.Hopefully, they’llallow us in some othersection where they aren’t atrisk.”

The prospect ofapproaching the Resistancewith Lee being sick worriedTara.ShehopedLukeandhismother would vote on theirsideifitcametothat.ButI’mthe reason Kevin is dead.Tarakeptcomingbacktothisfact.

“Can we get Leedownstairs?” asked Mary.Tara hadn’t thought of this.Julie was pretty weak and

wouldn’t bemuchhelp. “Wecanlayhimonablanketand,drag him ifwe have to,” shesaid. “Come on, we have togetgoing.We’llsaveLeeforlast.”

Tara hoped theResistance had their ownstoreofdisinfectant,soapandwater. The women couldn’tpossibly carry all theirs withthem. At this thought, TaracalledMaryover.

“What have you got tohaulstuffatyourhouse?”

“I’vegotayardcarttoo!And I think Ben’s little redwagonisinthegarage.”Taratoldhertogogetthem,butbecareful.

“I’ll come with you,Mom,”Julietoldher.

Tara glanced at Julie,noticingforthefirsttimethatshe still wore Tara’s coatliner.“Julie,comehere.”Tara

walked to the closet and dugout a thickwinter coat, scarfand hat, alongwith a pair ofgloves. Julieput themallon,thrilled at the warmth. Tarazippedthelinerbackintoherowncoat.

Mary motioned to herdaughter to follow and theyleft by the front door. Taralocked it behind them, andwent to the cupboard next.Shetookdownthepre-mixed

baggiesofORS,someCrisco,flour, sugar, and a few bagsof rice and dried beans. Sheleft about half their storesthere,justincase.

Tara made a pile on thebackporch,thencameinandcheckedherguntomakesureit was fully loaded. Shedumped the entire box ofbullets into one coat pocket,and the gun into the other.Next, she gathered blankets

andgarbagebags,theirboxesofglovesandmedicalmasks,and the bleach anddisinfectant. She stoodlooking at the pile, trying toimaginewhatelsetheymightneedatthefactory.Therewasno way of knowing really,and finally, Tara gave up,callingitdone.

SheheardMaryandJulieapproaching from thedriveway side of the house.

Marycame intoviewpullingasturdyyardcart.Juliehadared wagon. The womenloaded Mary’s cart with thepiledgoods.Theyreturnedtothe living room and TararemindedMary not to forgether gun. Mary retrieved it,puttingthebulletsinhercoatpocket as soon as Tara toldherwhereshe’dstashedhers.At least they could defendthemselves.

Juliewas exhausted, andsankdownonthesofabesideBenoncethey’dfinished.

“Are we ready?” sheaskedTara.

Tarastoodthinkingforamoment, just as Ben sat uprubbing his eyes, his blondhair sticking up adorably.Tara remembered it wasChristmasEve.Poorkid.

“Hang on.” She ran outof theroomandracedup the

stairs,allthewaytotheattic.Shedug inanoldboxofherson’stoys.She’dsavedmanyofthemfromthetimehewasBen’s age. She chose acouple and rushed backdown.

“Look what Santa Clausleftyouupthere!”

A beautiful smile lit uphis small face, and heimmediately becameengrossedinthetoys.

Tara decided they wereas ready as they would everbe. It was time to get Lee.She led Mary back upstairs,andMarysuitedup,decidingto put Lee into a gown,facemask andgloves too, thebetter to calm theResistanceinto accepting him. Tarabrought another blanket todrag Lee on, and then shedonned protective clothingtoo.

She and Mary wrestledLee from the bed onto theblanket,andtheolderwomanpulled Lee out into thehallway.

“Bring the pan,” Taracalled, hoping maybe Leewould sleep the entire wayand not need to use it. Juliecameupstairsandputamaskand gloves on herself andBen. “We’re ready,” shecalled.

“Julie, go into the closetand gather as many moreblankets and sheets as youcan carry, okay?” Juliereturned with them, takingthem down to the cart Leewouldridein.

“C’mon, Mary, let’s gethimdownstairs.”

They somehow rolledLeeintotheblanketandeachtookanend.

“Mary, pull his feet. I’m

goingtocradlehishead.”They inched their way

down the stairs onto the firstfloor,andthenslidthebundlecontaining Lee over to theback door. Julie and Benwerealreadyoutsidewaiting.Mary and Tara followed thesame procedure for the backsteps.

Once they got Lee ontothe ground, they lifted thebundle by both ends and

placed him in the yard cart,wrapping some of theblankets around him. Theytried to brush off the snowthatclungtotheblanket.Leedidn’tmakeasoundandTarawondered how long it wouldtakeforthesurvivor’splasmato take effect. She hoped itwassoon.

JuliewrappedBenuptooand placed him in the RadioFlyer wagon. She gave him

the toy to hold andhe staredatthebrightyellowhelicopterin awe. Tara smiled,remembering how much hersonhadlovedittoo.

Taraclimbedthestepstothe porch, giving a finalglance into thekitchensadly.Maybewe’llbeable tocomebackhere.Maybe thingswillget better.She slowly pulledthedoorshutwithaclick.

“Okay, are we ready?”

She looked at their eagerfaces,andknewthey thoughtof her as their leader.However, Tara didn’t feellike a leader. She lifted thehandle of the yard cart andtestedhowhard itwasgoingto be to pull Lee along. Itbegan to roll and it wasn’tbad at all. The large tiresseemed to glide effortlesslythroughthesnow.

Julie was able to handle

the smallwagonwithBen init,andMaryhadaheavyloadofsuppliesinhercart,butshewasalsomanagingjustfine.

The night was dark, butthe snow lightened things upconsiderably. “Keep aware,everybody, watch for vans.”They headed down the backalley quietly. The snowappeared to be about threeinchesdeep,andTarathoughtit muffled the sound of the

carts and wagon wheelsnicely, so considered it abonus. How’s that foroptimism!Shealmostlaughedoutloudatherself.

The trackswe’remakingare the worst thing.Nevertheless, she figuredonce they were inside thefactory, it wouldn’t matteranyway. Besides, the PowersThat Be at the camp alreadyknewabouttheResistance.

Theairwascrispandthesnow was still flying. Tarastrainedatpulling thecart. Itwasslowgoing,andLeewasheavy. She glanced at theothers and they too wereworkinghard,butmakingit.

At the railroad tracks,Tarapaused,wonderingifshecould pull Lee down themiddle. She settled for oneside, where there was onlypeagravel insteadof railroad

tiestonavigate.A noise spun Tara

around. Awhite van crossedthecountryroadbehindthemwhere they’d just turneddownthetracks.“Getdown!”hissed Tara, and everybodycrouched.Shewatchedasthevan slowed going over thebumps, then continuedaround the bend on the road,whichranparalleltothem.

“Stay down,” whispered

Tara, waiting for the van toreappear across from them.The headlights swept aroundtheturn,illuminatingthestill-falling snowflakes for amoment, then it passed by.They watched as the vanapproached the factoryaheadontheirleft.

“Let’s go, they seem tobe doing sweeps of the areawhich really worries me.They may be looking for us

already.” Tara hoped theycould cross the remainingdistancebefore thevancameroundagain.

The little band ofrefugeescreptforwardasfastas they could go, whichwasn’t fast enough for Tara.Between the snow and theheavy loads, theywerereallybogged down. She kept oneeye peeled for the sentinelswhohadgreetedherherelast

time.But theywerenowherein sight.Tara thoughtLuke’snew information hadprobably warned them, andtheywereengagedelsewhere.Maybe they’re preparing forwhattheythinkiscoming.

Thewomen came to theendofthetracksandstopped.There was an open area ofground they would have tocross to reach the factoryentrance. The road across

from them curved their wayhere, running along just infront of them after it passedthefactoryentrance.

Tarasawthetracksofthevaninthesnow.Sheglanceddownattheirpassengers,BenandLee.The boyhad curledup again at some point andfallen asleep, rocked by themotionofthewagon.Leehadnotstirred,andTaratookitasa good sign. He hadn’t

thrownup.SheglancedatMaryand

Julie, took a deep breath andlooked both ways down thestreet. She saw nothing buttheexpanseofsnow.

“Let’s do this,” Taraannounced. They made thefinal push across the road asquickly as possible, all ofthem huffing and puffingnow, exhausted by the trip.Tara as point man was on

highalert.Herheadswiveled,checking for danger, but hereyes were on the gates justahead where she’d enteredbefore.Suddenly,shenoticeda figure come out of thebuildingandwalktothem.

As they pulled theirheavy carts and wagon thelast few yards, Tara saw itwas Luke. Julie and Marywavedhello.

“Youmadeit,”hecalled.

“I wish there weren’t tracks,but it can’t be helped.” Tarawasoverjoyedtoseehim.Herepresented safety and theirsecondchance.

Luke held up one hand,stopping them. He inclinedhishead toward thebuilding.“I told them you have aninfectedpersonwithyou,andthey voted to allow you tostay,but theywantyoutobequarantinedseparately.”

Tara figured as much.Shewasjustgladtheywouldallow them in. “Luke, a vanjust swept through the area.”Lukenodded.

“We know. We’rewatching. We’re alwayswatching.” He turned andpointed over his shoulder atthe square, five-story towerthatloomedoverthemfurtherdown the gated complex.Tararealized that’swhy they

didn’t need the sentinelsoutside; they could see formiles.

“We believe the campmay be preparing for anattack on us. At least that’swhatwe’re thinking.Or theymay know you’re gone, andthat’s why they’re sweepingthearea.”

Just inside the gates tothe left stooda small, single-storied red brick building. It

lookedas though it hadbeenusedasanoffice, the“publicface” of the factory forcustomers and staff when inoperation. Luke pointed to itnow.

“They ask that you stayin there. There are severalsmaller rooms in the backtoo, one for your husband tobe quarantined.” Mary andJulie thanked him, and Taradidtoo.Lukeswungthegate

open for them and theystarted pulling the cartsinside.

Suddenly, Luke tensed.“Hurry,”heshouted.

Tara saw the van’sheadlightscomingbackdownthe road. Tara and Maryyanked their loads inside thegate andLuke swung it shut,running into the factory tosoundthealarm.

“Run!”Tarashouted,and

they pulled as hard as theycould toward the small brickbuilding. Julie yanked openthe door, which luckily wasalready unlocked, pulling thelittle red wagon with Beninside. Mary dropped herhandleandrantoTara,tryingtohelpherpullLeeoutofthecartbeforethevangotthere.

CRACK,DING!Gunfire!Tara instantly recognized abullet hitting the metal yard

cart.LEE!Mary dropped to her

handsandkneesinpanicandTara joined her. Maryreached for the door handleandpusheditopen.“Tara,getin here.We’ll only draw firefrom them and they’re goingtohitLee!”

Tara realized she wasright. They weren’t aimingfor Lee. They were aimingfor them. With her heart in

herthroat,shecrawledtothedoor, bullets whizzing andcrackingagainstthebricks.

“Don’t move, Lee, we’llget you in a minute.” Shedidn’t know if he heard. Shedidn’t want to leave him.Despair at his helplessnessalmost choked her, but therewas nothing she could do.Then she remembered theguns.

Chapter17

Thesoundofricochetingbulletsstrikingallaroundheralmost froze Tara to theground.She forcedherself tocrawl backward into thedoorway. Tara could see along row of white vansapproaching. They pulled inperpendicular to the factory,lining up as though in

formation. It was obviousthey meant to wipe out thisbandofrenegades.

Marywas just inside thedoor and Julie andBenwerea few feet to her right. Benwas lyingon thefloorbesidehis mother, a frightenedexpressiononhisface.

“Mary, we have guns!”Mary’s eyes widened inrealization, as both womenfumbled in their pockets.

With a loud crack, thewindow above themshattered.

“My God, they’re goingtokillLee.”

“Idon’t think theyknowhe’s in the yard cart,” Marywhispered. “But the straybulletsaregoingtohithimifwe don’t do something. Tarathoughtfast.

“Mary, I want you tostart firing at them.Maybe I

can dump Lee out and draghim inside by his blanket.”Mary was checking her gun,taking off the safety andclumsily holding it in herhand. Tara watched her witha sinking feeling. My God,this isn’t going to work.We’renotoutlaws.

Suddenly, they heardshouts coming from thefactory side. Tara picked outLuke’svoice,risingabovethe

others.“Tara,staydown.”Tara then heard return

fire coming from theResistance. It was now ornever.“Mary,Luke’shelpingus!Doitnow!”

Tara reached up andpushedopenthedoorasMarygottoherkneesandbegantofire back at the vans. Taracrawled to the cart, raisedherself up just enough to

grasponeendof theblanket,and pulled on it with all hermight. The cart tipped up onone side, and then crashedover, spilling Lee out rightbesideher.Hegroaned.

“Lee, I’m dragging youinside.” Tara doubted heunderstoodorevenheardherinhiscoma-likestate,butshethankedGodhewassuddenlymore accessible to her. Tarayanked and tugged on him,

gaining ground inch by inch.She was nearly inside withthe blanket containing Lee,when Mary shrieked. “I’mout of bullets.” Her gunclicked, then clicked again;empty.

At that moment, Tararose to get a better purchaseonLee.Asearingpainlikeahot poker jammed into herupperarmknockedherback.She screamed and fell.

Suddenly, Julie was besideher, pulling her in. Marycrouchedandgrabbedtheendof Lee’s blanket, yanking ittherestofthewayinside.

“I’m shot,” cried Tara.Juliepushedbackhercoat tosee. Tara’s right arm felt onfire.BloodwasrunningdownitasJuliepulledasheetfromthe wagon and ripped off astrip.Juliecheckedtobesureno arterieswere hit, and told

Tara she was lucky. It hadpassedthroughthefleshypartbetween her shoulder andelbow, what Lee had alwaysjoked and called her chickenwing. Julie wound the striparound tightly to stop theblood. The terrible burningsensation had lessened, butTara felt her ears begin thehigh-pitched warning ringthat signaled she might passout.

“No,” she yelled, tryingtoshakeitoffandstayinthepresent.SherealizedthenthatLeewas insidewith themonthe floor, and she calmed alittle. You’re okay. Lee’sokay.

Return fire was nowcoming from the direction ofthe factory and above themfromthesnipertower.

The camp soldier’sbulletswereno longeraimed

at them. They seemed to befocused entirely on thefactory and tower. Marycrawledtothefarcorner,andtold Tara and Julie to comeover. Julie pulled Ben withher and settled in, backagainst the wall. A smallwindowabove themaffordeda good view without risk ofbeing seen, andTara scootedover too. Mary was relayingwhat was happening, ticking

off the van’s occupants’locations as they spread out,using the wide paneled sidesof the vehicles to shieldthemselves. That’s why theyparked that way. The firingfrom the factory had nowstopped. The Resistanceseemed tobewaiting,maybesavingtheirammunition.

Tara pushed Mary asideto see for herself, clutchingher injured right arm. Down

the road came a long line ofcamouflaged vehicles. Theone in front looked like aHummer.Tarawatcheditpullin sideways too. A terriblefeeling of hopelessness cameoverher.

We’ve come so far, beenthroughsomuch.But there’snoway to win.We’re totallyoutnumbered.

With a sinking heart,Tara describedwhat shewas

seeing. The door of theHummer opened, andCommander Meyer’s close-shaved haircut flashed intosight for an instant, and thendisappeared behind thevehicle.Nextcamethesoundofabullhorn.

“Come out with yourhands in the air. We willspare you if you do.” It wasMeyers’s voice. “You’ve gotfiveminutes to decide. Then

theflamethrowersbegin.”“What should we do?”

cried Mary. Tara stared ather, tryingtothink.“Nothingyet—wait to see what theResistance does.” Tara knewthey were at the mercy ofMeyers’s soldiers. With noway to contact Luke or therest of the Resistance, theywere in a terrible position intheir isolated little brickbuilding.

Suddenly,thevannearestthe tower pulled in closer.There was the sound of anexplosion, and instantly thetower was in flames. Thewomen held hands and Tarabegan a prayer. They alljoinedin,evenlittleBen.

The lower floors weresoon engulfed, and Tarawatched in horror as figuresat the top were outlinedagainst the windows in the

orange light of flame,screaming. Finally, theyjumped.Theirburningbodiesfell five stories, hitting thepavement with a terriblethwacking sound. Tara knewshe would never forget thathorrible noise. She could notbelieve this was happening.We’re all going to die. Sheglanced over at Lee, stillunconscious on the floor.Thank God, he won’t suffer

anylonger.Tara realized the evil in

thismanMeyerswasbeyondhuman understanding. Juliehad begun to cry and MaryheldbothherandBentightly,prayingsoftly.

Theloudspeakercrackledon. “Send out your womenand children first.” Taraglanced at Mary and shookherhead.

“No,” was all Tara said.

Marynodded,agreeing.Theywould die together in thisplace, if need be. Maryreloadedhergun,givingTaraa look. Tara smiled at her,understanding. They wouldnot burn to death. Marywouldtakethemoutfirst.

Tara looked out thewindowagain, and saw threewomen and two childrenslowly walking toward theline of vehicles, their hands

up.Shedidnotrecognizeanyof them. None of the threewas Luke’s mother. Perhapsshe’d decided to go out thewayTaraandMaryhad.

Slowly, the women andchildren came forward untiltheywereatthegate,farfromthe building. The suddencrack of rifles broke thesilence, and the women’sbodiesdroppedtotheground.

“My God!” cried Tara,

“they’ve killed them.” Theirchildrenscreamed,theirhigh-pitched voices agonized, andthe rifles fired again. Thesmallbodieslaystill.

Tara was racked withsobs so hard she couldn’teven tell the others whathappened,butMaryandJuliehad already guessed. Taracouldn’t watch any longer.Shesankdownontothefloor,herbackagainstthewall.

Sheheardthemeninsidethe factory screaming atMeyersinrage.Callinghimacoward, calling him everyfoul name they knew. ButTara thought he was worsethan that. She thought thatmaybehewastheDevil.

Thecrashofsomesortofincendiary devices throughthe factory windows begannext. The sound of firebreaking out, the whoosh of

flames, and the screams ofmen, all told Tara what washappening. Meyers and hissoldiers had forgotten theirownlittlebandofescapeesinthe red brick office buildingfor the moment, but itwouldn’tbe longuntil itwastheirturn.

Tara turned toMary andJulie. “I love you both somuch. I am so grateful foryou—for your tender care,

your friendship, and forgetting Lee and me throughall of this up until now.Wehad a pretty good run, didn’twe?” Tears coursed downTara’scheeks,butsheforceda smile and pulled her gunbackout,reloadingit.

“I love you too, Tara.Thank you for everything.”Mary looked angelic, herwhitehair like ahalo aroundtheprofileofherface.

JuliekissedBenoverandover, then turned to them. “Ilove you, Mom. Thank you,Tara,”shesaid.

They had all said theirgoodbyes. Tara thought shewould need to dispatch Leefirst, so he wouldn’t sufferany more, her final act oflove.Sheaimedthegunathishead, gauging where it waslocatedundertheblanket.

“Wait a bit,”Mary said,

and Tara nodded. Shewouldwait until the last possiblemoment,until the fire startedinsidetheroomwiththem.

The screams comingfrom the factory were shrill.There’s a lot of room tospread out in there, maybeLuke can get away. Tarawaited for the incendiarydevice to be fired throughtheirwindow.Sheclosedhereyes, forcing herself to be

brave.Anysecondnow.A strange sound began,

rising above the screams andchaos, above the whoosh ofthe great conflagrationconsuming the factory. Taradidnotrecognizeitatfirst.Itwas so foreign. But Maryperkedup.

“Listen!”shecried.Puzzled,Tara strained to

hear. “What is that?” sheasked.

“Helicopter!” Benshouted,wavinghistoy.Tarajumped up, looking out thewindow. Mary and Juliecrowdedinbesideher.

Just beyond the whitevansonthedistantexpanseofsnowy road, was a long lineof military vehicles. Out infront of them an odd sightpulled into view. It was ariding lawnmower, with avery old man in a Marine

uniformdrivingit.“CLYDE!” screamed

Tara.Helicopters whirred

overhead as the camouflagetrucks and white vans of thecamp soldiers franticallyscattered, making a hastyretreat. Tara ran for the doorwithguninhand.Maybeshecould help save Luke. AsMary ran outside after her,Tarasawwhatwasleftofthe

resistance gathered in thecourtyard of the factory,firingattheretreatingenemy.She spotted Luke and said aquickprayerof thanksgiving.The enemy vehicles had allpulled away, running for thesafety of the camp, but theMarines were right behindthem.

Clyde pulled close toTara on his Lawn Boy, andshe gave him a huge hug.

“Oh,Clyde,yousavedus!”“No,Tara, you saved all

of us! When Luke broughtyour message, I got on theGibson Girl and called myfour-star Marine generalgrandson in Cleveland. Heknewjustwhattodo.”

Tara held on to herpainfulupperarmandwentinsearch of Luke and hismother. She found them, butthe terrible loss of their

husband and father Kevin,and now their friends in theResistance, left them with athousand yard stare. Taraunderstood, thanking themquietly.

The Marine brassdebriefed themall, and Julie,TaraandMarytoldtheirstoryof the camp in detail andexactly what had been goingon there. Clyde finally cameover and introduced his

grandson. Just then, a callcame on his radio that thecamp was secured, Meyerswas under arrest, and all hishenchmen soldiers and fakeCDC representatives werebeing rounded up too. MaryhuggedTara,andJuliejoinedin, with Ben putting hisspindly arms around them aswell.

Tara suddenlyrememberedLeeandgasped.

She trotted back to the littlered brick building that she’dassumedwouldbetheirtomb.She went inside and over toLee. She found him wideawake, almost like his oldself.

“Lee,sweetheart,howdoyoufeel.”

“I feel better, so muchbetter.” Relief floodedthroughTara.MaryandJuliecameinjustthen.

“He’s awake and lucid!”Tara cried. Julie nodded andsmiled. “The plasma worksquickly on some. This isfabulous.”

Tarasatdownagainstthewall and told Lee they weresafe, explaining a little ofwhathappened.Hedriftedoffagain during her story, andTara didn’t mind. She’d fillhiminlater.

“It’s going to be okay

now,Julie.”Julieagreed, tryingtobe

heard with Ben on her lapmaking helicopter noises.Tara looked at Mary andrepeatedit.Maryjustlaughedout loud, leaning her headback against the wall. Tarajoinedin.Lifewassogood.Itoften took the very bad tomakeyourealizeit.

Tara leanedbackagainstthewalltoo,exhaustedandin

pain,butrightwiththeworld.The noise of a Marinebattalion—the real Marinesthistime—pulsedoutsideallaroundthem.Butinside,Tarawasatpeace.

EpilogueTara’sDiaryJanuary15,2016Ialmostforgotaboutthis

diary.WhenIreadthroughit,I am truly amazed. Isn’t itfunny how just a coupleweeks can changeeverything? Maybe it’s the

hope—havingsomemakesallthedifference.

Iwassojaded.Iseethatin hindsight. Too many badthingsinlifewilldothat,butI know now, evil doesn’talways prevail. Yeah, evilwill take casualties. Goodsometimes dies away—for alittlewhileanyway.Butgoodalways comes back with avengeance.

Lee is weak but almost

fullyrecovered.Thesurgeonsatthecamp—therealdoctorsthere now that is—are goingto do surgery on his leg assoon as he gets his strengthback. They checked it out,and it’s just as Mary said;tendon damage, totallyfixable. He’s thrilled, to saytheleast.

Mary, Julie, and Benmoved back across the streetintoMary’shouse.Wereally

miss them, but we gettogether almost every day toshare a meal. Ever since thereal military took the campover, we have MREs to eat.They warned us their foodstoreswon’t last forever, butwhat they do have, they’resharing with us survivors.That’s okay. Spring iscoming,andweknowhowtoforage and hunt now. We’llbe fine, I know it. The

saddestthingisthatnotmanyofushavesurvived.

IaskedClydetomoveinwith us, but he insists he’sstayingrightwhereheis.Theonly thing he asked is for usto bury him in his uniformwhen it’s time. I promisedhim we would, but told himwe’renotallowinghimtodieanytime soon. We take himdinner andvisit a little everynight.

Thevirushasdiedoutinthe population, it seems. Afew of the scientists left areworking on a real vaccine,just to make sure those stillhere never have to deal withthisagain.

Things will take a verylongtimetocomeback,thisIknow. So much knowledgehas been lost, but there arelibrariesfullofbooksthatcanteach us everything—again.

SoIhavehopefortheworld.And Ihavehope forus.Lifeis so precious, love iseverything, and I amgratefulto have both. Godwilling, itwill all be alright again oneday.

Did I mention thesquirrels? They’re thick.Taking over our yard andlivinginourshed.MRE’sareokay, but I’m getting hungryfor some squirrel meat. The

littlebastards.

TheEndReadonforafreesample

ofTheSwarm

CrabappleBread1/2c.shortening1c.sugar2eggs2tbsp.milk1tsp.bakingsoda2tsp.salt2c.choppedredcrabapples2c.flourMixalltogether,bake1hourat350degrees.

D.L.Robinsonisa professional musician andauthor. Her first book AHaunted Life was releasedwith Llewellyn Worldwide,followed by The Dead areWatching, both nonfiction.Debraalsowritesparanormal

suspense. Her bestsellingShadows and Light series,Sarah’sShadowsandSarah’sSight, are best described asTheStandmeetstheafterlife.As a musician, Debra hasrecorded two CD’s PrettyLiesandPerfectGirl,andherLA music publisher mostrecently placed a song in theMatthew McConaughey filmtrailer of Killer Joe.www.DebraRobinson.net

CHAPTERONE

Meg slowed, braked herbike,andputafootfirmlyonthe ground. She lookedbehind her to the south andsaw nothing.With one pedalforward and the other back,she put all theweight of herbody on her right foot,

startingthebikeintomotion.It was the second day,

and she’d put almost fiftymilesbetweenherandDallas.The first had been spentgettingoutofthecity.

She rode a twelve gearbike on a four lane highway.The bike was old, it’s colorfaded toadeepshadeof red.Sheweavedinandoutoftwolanes on northbound side ofthe road, unafraid of traffic.

Therewasnotraffic.Shefocusedonthesmall

details in the road ahead, thecracks and bumps in theconcrete,theobstructionsthatwouldtripherupifshedidn’tseethemintime.Shecarriedlittle with her. All she hadwere the things she’dmanaged to grab from hercollegedormroominthelastminutes before Dallas was ablur at her back. That

includedtheclothesshewore,the bicycle, and the contentsof her backpack. Thebackpack was stuffed withmoreclothes,afewpackagesoffood,andasinglebottleofwater.

ShewassomewherepastDentononthe77stretchofI-35. Itwasableak road.Fourlanesoftrafficwereclosedinon either side by concretesupports,aboutthreefeettall.

Immediatelypastthesupportswere endless rows of trees,planted right up against theedge of the highway. Therewasn’tasoulinsight,despitethe fact that she was headedawayfromoneofthebiggestcities in the United States.Where one would normallyexpecttoseeaheavyflowofinterstate traffic there waslittle more than the leavingsof those that’d come before

her.Thehighwaywaspackedwith abandoned cars, allpointedinthesamedirection,the way she was headed;north.

There were so manythings. Things everywhere.Cars, motorcycles, trucks,SUV’s. Articles of clothinghalf spilled out of suitcases.Overstuffed station wagonsabandoned in ditches by thehighway, full of forgotten

provisions, food, water,camping tents, familyphotographs, books, Bibles,all the things that either hadan obvious use, or a secretone; the things only theirgone owners wouldunderstand. The highwayheld the tattered things thathuman beings needed tosurvive, when emergenciesdrovethemoutoftheirhomesandintotheunknowable.

There were bodies too.Onthatsecondday,allbodieswere new, though notnecessarily fresh. Some heldthe tell-tale signs of thestrange sort of horror Meghad known in Dallas.Wherepeople should have been,there were sometimes onlyclean,whitebonesanda fewstrands of ligaments holdingthem together. Worse thanthese were the bodies that

hadn’t been fully consumed.Meg saw every one. If theyfacedherasshepassedonthehighway, she stared themdown eye to eye. If therewerenoeyes,as itwasoftenthe case, she’d stare straightthrough the sockets of theirexposed skulls. She neverfailed to see them, couldn’tignore them, anddidn’twantto. Her bike didn’t go fastenough tomake thema blur,

and for that, she was glad.Thedeadaroundherkepthergoing.Ifshestoppedpedalingthat bike, it would be herbones gleaming in thesunlight. She knew that…somehow.

Shewasn’tafraidofdeadpeople anymore.Once in herlifeskeletonsandcorpseshadcreeped her out to no end.Now she knew better. Therewereworsethings.

***

The road stretched

onward as the sun rose intomidday. Meg kept pedaling,unaware of herself, or thedetails in the passing andchanging world, only theroad.Theroaddidn’tchange,and for that, she was alsothankful. Small detailsmightneed to be dealt with, a

highwayexitoverstuffedwithcars blocking her lane, or aspillontheroadofsomesort,butunlesstherewasanythingin particular to pay attentionto, anything that wouldrequire her to be fully there,she wasn’t. She gave herselfas much as she needed topedal the bike and weavethrough lanes in the road.Everythingelsewentandhid.

Memories of the city

would come occasionally,and she’d hold them back aslong as she could, as if hermindwasa retainingwallonthe edge of a shoreline, andwiththerisingofthetideshermemories would flood overinto a sensitive area that shewantedtoprotect.Everytimethis happened, she’d bite herlip hard and pedal furiously,forcing her brain to focus onsomething not tied to

memory.Thenthetidewouldrecede. Whilst she was stillthis close, still a day awayfrom Dallas, it was best forMegtoignoreeverythingthatdidn’t directly deal withmovingthatbicyclenorth.

She weaved her waythrough car pileups andwrecked heaps in the road.She was the only thing thatmoved. Everything else wasfrozeninplace.Ahugesemi-

truck was overturned on onesection of the highway. Itscargo container badlysmashed through theinterstate’s center divide,spilling the truck’s contentsinto every lane, both northandsouth.Thetruckhadbeenfull of furniture. Parts oftables and ornate cabinetswere reduced to splinters onthe asphalt. An overturnedarmchair had caved in the

windshieldofanearbystationwagon. The area wasn’t safeforherbicycle,becausetherewere far too many splintersfor its soft tires to safelymovethrough.Megpickedupherbikeandcarrieditaroundthesemi-truck.Asshepassedbythefrontdoor,shesawthedriver, his body halfway outof the windshield. He wasstill in one piece, but thejourneythroughtheglasshad

dissected him down themiddle.His headwas restingfacedownonthehoodofthetruck, in a stream of bloodthatdrippedallthewaydownto the road in small dropletsfrom his shredded neck.There weren’t any flies nearhis body to lay eggs in hisexposed insides, asmight beexpected. Not yet, Megreminded herself. They’llcome.

The body reassured herinasickeningway.Sofar,onher trek north, all the bodieshad been picked over, downto thebone.Thisonewasn’t.Shehopeditmeantthatshe’dgonebeyondthedangerzone,thatshe’doutrunit.

As she got back on herbike, skidding the pedalsbackward so she could get aleaning start, Megrememberedwhyshewason

I-35 in the first place, andwhy she was heading north.There had been a number ofdifferent options available toher once she’d managed toescape the city. Go west oreast on twenty. Loop aroundand head south, aim for SanAntonio,whynot?Maybethemilitary was set up downthere,nearthebase.Itwasasgood of a plan as any.Whynorth?

Northwashome.Northwas hermom and

dad. Her brother. Her house,withits twostoriesofyellowpaintedhomeness.NorthwasWellington,Kansas,thetownwith the post office on onecorner of Main Street andgrocery on the other. Stucksomewhere between wasMeg’s entire life, the lifeshe’dleftbehindayearandahalfagotomovetoTexasfor

college.She’d had this thought,

this intuition, that’d rooteditself in her mind since themoment she woken up theday after Dallas. She’dknown something that shehadnobasisofknowing,butknew anyway, not as beliefnor faith, but as a naturalconclusion reached from apart of hermindMeg hadn’tbeen aware of. The fact that

sheknewitmadenosensetoher. It scared her, like amirror reflection she didn’trecognize.

My brother’s still alive,she knew. Kurt. My parentsare dead, but my brother’sbackhomeinWellingtonandhe’s alive. A million milesfrom here, but I’ll reach it,because my brother’s alive,rightnow,andI’malive,rightnow. I don’t know how I

know this, but it’s true. Mybrother’s alive, holed upsomewhereinmyhometown,andI-

There was somethingelseinthereaswell,butMegpushed it back into therecedingtide.

***

Noon came and passed.

The sun stopped rising and

startedtoset.As she rode she noticed

twothings.Thefirstwasthatshe wasn’t getting tired.She’d never been a veryathletic person, never on anytrackorsoccerteams,andshewassweatingoutallthewaterher body could spare, thesingle water bottle alreadyhalf empty in her pack. Yetshedidn’tfeeltired,notevenslightly tired. It wasn’t from

any sort of adrenal rusheither. Whatever adrenalineshe’d ever had was all gonebackinDallas.

Itwasthelackofoptionsthat made ‘tired’ disappear.Her body knew that the bikewasallshehad.Itwaseitherthebikeordeath,soherbodyleft tiredbehind, just anotherpiece of refuse on the road.No room for it in heroverstuffed pack, or on her

shoulders, behind her eyes.Tiredwasdead.

The other thing shenoticedwasherfronttirewasgoingflat.

It’d started around two.The bike simply wasn’ttaking her weight anymore.When she tried to continueforward, it would sink andrise, wobbling under thedeflated inner-tubeunderneath the front tire.

Once, when she maneuveredsharply around a briefcaselying in the road, she almostskiddedrightoffthebike.It’dtaken a frantic moment ofcounterbalancing to keepfrom falling facedown ontotheasphalt.Youcan’tsteerabike on a flat, she thought.Gofigure.

She reluctantly got offthe bike, knowing that if shecontinued to rideon it, she’d

damage either the tires orherself. She didn’t want toleave it behind, however, soshewalkeditalong,herarmsrestedon thehandlebars.Herpaceslowedtoadeadcrawl.

Itwas something else towalkratherthantoride.Onabikeshewasasweightlessasair.Theworld gaveway anditmade her forgetwhere shewas going, or coming from.On her feet, Meg couldn’t

help but take frequent looksback behind her, one quickglance followed by anobsessive double take everyfewminutes.Sheknewthatitwas a ridiculous thing to do,andthatshe’dhearthedangercoming from a mile off. Nosound in the world wasbigger,moreobvious,butthatknowledge didn’t keep herfromcontinuingtolookback.

Theworldwasclearand

slowanddull.Greybrushandgrass gave way to short,bright-greengrass,thefartherfrom the city she went. Thenumber of cars receded, asdid the number of bodies.Instead of loose trash andpossessionslitteringtheroad,things looked thoroughlypicked over, as if drivers,upon running out of gas,stalling from mechanicalissues,orstoppingforvarious

other reasons, had takeneverything they could withthem, having time to spare.But to where? Megwondered. Do they knowsomething that I don’t?Whywouldyouleaveyourcarandthe highway? Where wouldyou go? Into small towns?The back country? Therewere probably plenty ofdrivers, the majority ofdrivers, that’d run into no

trouble at all and were athousandmilesawaybynow,going west to California,north all the way to Canada,oreasttoDC,toknockonthedoorsoftheWhiteHouseandtell the President of theUnitedStatesthattherewasamess to clean up in Texas,and he needed to get his assin gear and order some lowflying AC-130s intodowntownDallas.

Thinking of the citymade the tide rise over thedam inhermind.She startedto put together all the piecesofthequestionsshe’dwantedto ask in the city, but hadn’thadthetime.Whatthefuck’shappening? Had beennumero-uno on her list,followed shortly by how?AndWhy?Thelasttwowereapttodrivehercrazy,thefirstwould give her nightmares

for the rest of her life. Thereal question, the one shecould’ve used an answer to,was what am I really gonnado,andhowamIsupposedtodoit?

Thenshesawthepeople,aheadontheroad.

Four of them, allstanding behind a lowbarricade of smashed carsdirectly under a double-headed streetlight at the

centerdivideof thehighway,twoof themheldweapons intheir hands. One was manholding a shotgun by a frontgrip,anotherawomanwithabaseball bat. Therewere twoothers behind them, youngteenage boys by the look,unarmed. The boys, both ofwhom looked no older thanfifteen, were focusedprimarily on the dark sweatunderherneckthatmadeher

shirtclingtohermidriff.The wielder of the gun

was amiddle aged guy, greyhairwentstraightdowntohisshoulders from a widow’speak. A fresh, shallow scarran acrossone cheek.Heputuphisrighthand,theleftkeptthegunbalancedonthehoodofacar.Megstopped.

“You’re from the city,”the man said. It wasn’t aquestion.

“Yea,” Meg said back,her throatachedas shemadethewords.“Goingnorth.”

The man nodded. “Youknow,”hesaid.“Othershavecomefromthewestandeast,and therewasonedumbass Imet going south, but you…You’re the first we’ve seenfrom the city, coming fromthehighwayatleast.”

“Really?” He noddedunsmiling. “I don’t know

whattotellyou.”“There’snothingIwanna

hear. Keep your stories toyourself. What’s your name,Miss?”

She shruggeduncomfortably,“Megan.I-uh,my bike’s got a flat. Youknow where I could fix it?Anyone in town that wouldhelp me?” She knew of thetown off the interstate,Gainesvillewasitsname,and

could also guess the reasonthese peoplewere out on thehighway. They were locals,keeping refugees out of theirpocketofhighwayland,awayfrom the provisions ofgrocery stores and twenty-four-hourgasstations.

“Youknowwhy I’mouthere, don’t you?” the manwiththeshotgunsaid,readingher mind. “Some cameyesterday, after it started.

They saidbad things.Thingswe didn’t want to hear. Wetold them to leave and theydid. Are you gonna say badthings?”

“No.” She promised.“I’m not gonna say anythingif I’m not asked. If I amasked and I know it’s…badI’llsayIdon’tknow.I’llbeagoodguest.AndIdon’twanttostay.AssoonasIcan,I’mgone.”

“Good.” He seemedconvinced. “Head to themechanic’s shop.Guyby thename of Jim runs it, youngkidbut goodmannered, he’llhelpyouout.TellhimMannysent you. It’s a home shop.Take the exit down Weavertill you hit California street,head right, and after you goover the railroad, take a lefton Denison. He’s the lime-green house right past the

scrapyard. He’ll fix you up,justdon’tgowandering.”

“Thanks.” Shememorizedthedirections.

Megturnedtotherighttopass themandstartdowntheexit. The woman with thebaseball bat nudged Mannyontheshoulderandgavehima look. He rolled his eyes,then spoke to Meg oncemore. “Onemore thing.Youdon’t gotta answer if you

don’twantto.”“What?”“How do you know that

yourbrotherisstillalive?”  

CHAPTERTWO

She didn’t answer the

man’s question and didn’tthinkofitanylongerthanshehad to. She passed by a fewpeoplemillingaboutintown,all frowns on their faces.An

old man in overalls spattobaccooutintheroadaheadof her, shaking his head asshe passed. Others gave hersimilar nasty looks, but nonecametooclose,andshefoundher way easily enoughwithout having to ask fordirections.

Gainesville was asurprisingly small town, forsomethingnestledsoclosetothehighway. It remindedher

a little bit of home. LikeWellington,Gainesvillewasacommunity nestled on theinterstate, only there at allbecause a highway wentthrough it. An hour’s drivewould take you to Dallasfrom here. The WellingtonequivalentwouldbeWichita.Atenminutedriveawayfromthe interstate on either sidewould take you out into theendless, nowhere farmlands

ofMiddleAmerica.All the towns I’ve ever

seen are highway towns, shereflected. Maybe that’s therealreasonI’mheadingnorth.Ijustwannaridethehighwayonelasttime.

The house was easy tofind,justpastascarylookingscrapyardwherethreeorfourcranes stood in the air. Longchainshungdown,eachwithahookontheend.Theplace

was barely more than acovered garage with a fourroomshackofahomeleaningagainst one wall, all built inthe middle of a grassy field,the only building around forseveralblocks.

The structure had seenbetterdays.Itsterracottaroofwas cracked and faded. Inmany places, entire sectionswere missing, revealingcheap layers of exposed

plywood underneath. Howmuchof the damagewas thework of yesterday’s eventsand how much could beattributed to simple neglect,Meg didn’t know. A smallpath of gravel led to thehousefromthestreet.Behindthehousewerethreehugeashtrees,bright red in theheightofautumn.Thegravelwounditswayaroundtothebackofthe house, past a chain link

fenceandgate.The door of the house

opened, and aman emerged,one foot on the doormat, theother inside the house. Helooked to be in his latetwenties, tall, with bulgingforearms that came out fromunder his navy blue shirt,which, like everything aboutthe man, looked both wornand well maintained at thesame time. He had a pair of

blueeyesthat,despitetherestof him, gave him a younglook. She thought he wasattractive,notjustbecausehelookedstrong,butbecausehelooked real too. She’d seenall toomany fakemenathercollege, half-toned businessmajors that sported musclestheydidn’tknowhowtouse.This guy doesn’t just havestrength, he knows strength.She thought.Mechanic.He’s

earned it, and he’s cute too,blue eyes, dimples. Yeah, Idigit.

He rolled his eyesimpatiently at her. “Whatchawant?” he asked, with handsstillathiships.

“I-uh,” Meg staredaround, uncomfortable at theopennessaround them.Therewas nothing to see for milesand miles. The streets andbuildings were deserted in

every direction. “The-uh-guyon the highway said to findyour shop. That you were amechanic.”

Henodded.“Manny?”“Yeah, Manny. He was

watchingthehighway.”“Uh-huh.What can I do

for you?” She motioned toher bike, gently nudging theflat front tire with her shoe.“That’snoproblem.”Hesaid,I’ve got a few inner-tubes.

Comeonin,uh?”“Meg,”shesaid.He didn’t go back up to

the front door of the house,insteadhewentaroundtothecovered door of the garage.Withtheturnofalatchonthegarage door and a yankupward, he exposed a fullyfurnished mechanic’s shop,complete with a car raisingpiston on one side. It wasnon-electric, powered by a

foot crank near the ground.On the other side of thegarage, nestled into a corner,was a massive workbenchsurrounded by shelves andcabinetsoneveryside.

“Well, Meg, you uh,knowwhatyoudid?Runovera piece of glass? Somethingelse?”

“Noidea.”Jimwalkedovertoatool

cabinetonthefaredgeofthe

garage.Heopenedadooronthe cabinet to reveal severalcolumns of drawers inside.Hepulledoneof thedrawershalfway out, thumbingthrough tools and nails lyingloose inside. He found whathewaslookingforandpulledit out, a long slender bar ofmetal with a curved sharpedge.

He took the bike fromMeg and flipped it over,

letting it rest on its seat andhandlebars. “Where youcomingfrom?Thecity?”

Megnodded,“Yeah,I’muh…not supposed to talkaboutit.”

Jimlaughed.“Manny’safunnyguy.”Heunlatchedthebar that held the front wheelin place and unscrewed itfrom the bike. When it wasloose, he pulled the wholething off and set it on the

ground. “Mayor Greenwoodsays we need to start askingquestions, but Mannydisagrees.Heranagainsthimlast year, lost by a landslide.Manny thinks that if we justsit and wait, everything willjust blow over. Thing is, it’salready blown over. Camefrom the south, went north,andit’llblowbackoveragainandagainandagain.”

“Howdoyouknow?”

Jimgaveasmallchuckle.“Causewe’restillhere.”

Hegrabbed thedetachedwheelwithonehandandheldhiscurvedtoolwiththeother.He used it to dig the innertube of the tire out fromunderthewheel.

“There’s your problem,”hesaid.

“What?”“You’ve got a chunk of

gravel stuck inside here.

Probably been there for awhile. Tore a hole in yourtube.How long does the tireusually last, before it goesflat?”

“I wouldn’t know. It’smyroommate’sbike.”

“Oh, okay.” He didn’taskwhereherroommatewas.“Idon’thavewhatyouneed,but I bet somebody aroundtown has a tube that’ll workfor your wheel size. It’s

gettinglate,youhungry?”“No,I-uh-““Come on.” He smiled

reassuringly. “You lookpretty hungry. I’ll cook upsomesupper,noworries.”

“Sure.Okay.”They entered the house

throughadoorinthebackofthegarage.TheinteriorofthehousetookMegalittleaback.It was clean and wellfurnished. A single hallway

was adorned with a dozenfamily pictures, some ofindividuals standing forschool portraits, a few olderblack and white photographshung in expensive frames,andothersshowedagroupofthree: a skinnymom, grizzlyhaireddad,andlittlefreckledkidwithbrightblueeyes.Thehallway led to a kitchen andliving roomput into one, thebackdoor was half a step

stepsfromthediningtable,acircular piece of furniturecarvedfromasinglepieceofredwood.

“Coffee?”He opened upa cupboard and pulled outtwomugs,settingthemonthecounter.Meg nodded, took aseatatthetable.

“Parent’s house,” heexplained. “Left me enoughtopay the taxesoffandkeepthebusinessrunning.”

“It’snice.”“Thanks.” He reached

down to a low cupboard andpulled out a saucepan and aboiler. “You like spaghetti?”Sheshrugged,nodded.

Hebegantoworkonthemeal,fillingpanswithwater,getting tomato mix readyfromthepantry.Megsatstill,her shoulders slouched, andno words passed betweenthemforseveralminutes.She

realized therewas somethingcaught in that room withthem,atensenessthatneitherwould face. She wonderedjusthowmuchheknewabouteverything that washappening.

“So…where youplanning on sleepingtonight?”heasked.

“Sorry?”“You’re not planning on

leaving before it gets dark?

There’s maybe two hours ofsunlight left. I’m not gonnafind a tube for you that fast.People in town are probablyalready shutting themselvesin.”

Shehadn’t considered it,“Iuh-“

“If you want, you canstay here,” he said quickly.“Myparent’sroomisstillsetup.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said,

regretting the words as soonas they came out. The offerhadcaughtheroffguard.Upto that moment, Meg hadforgottenwhoandwhere shewas. She’d gotten caught upintherestofit.Shewasn’tassafeasshefelt,herewiththisstranger, and she shouldn’t,ofallthings,gotosleepinhishouse, in the middle ofnowhere, inanowhere town.Butwhatotherchoicedidshe

have?Hisheadbobbedslightly

ashepouredahandfulofdryspaghettinoodlesintothepot.He turned back, gave her aquicksmile,andwentbacktothedinner.

***

They ate together at the

kitchen table, and the wordsbetween them started slow,

but picked up as timeprogressed.Bytheendofthemeal, Meg felt a littlereassured. She learned a fewthings about Jim, the firstbeinghewasyoungerthanhelooked, twenty-one,goingontwenty-two. He’d gotten anAssociate’sdegreeatWillowCommunity College,majoring in auto-mechanics.He didn’t look surprisedwhenMegtoldhimshewasa

sophomore undergrad. Sheprobablylookedthepart.

“I almost went touniversity,but Ibackedout,”hesaid.

“Why?”“Justdidn’twanttogoin

the end.Wouldn’t have beenright for me. I’m a picture-oriented person. Can’t getideasveryeasilyfrombooks,but showme a cross sectionof a 68-Mustang’s engine,

and I can take that thingapart,putitbacktogethertoo.Not bragging, just the waymymindworks.”

The sun was far underthehorizonwhentheyclearedawaythedishesandpreparedfor the night ahead. Shewasstill uncomfortable to adegree with the prospect ofsleeping in his house. It feltlike an unnecessarilydangerousthingtodo.

Meg grabbed her packthatshe’dleftwithherbikeinthe garage. When shereturned, Jim was waiting inthehallway.

“Parent’s room is on theright. If anything happens inthe night, meet me in thehallway and we’ll go to thegarage.”

“Whythere?”“It’dbesafestifitcomes

again. Sturdiest part of the

house, no windows. Thewholethinghelduplasttime,butthegaragewillbethelastthing to fall, if it comes tothat.Here,I’vegotsomethingforyou.”Hereachedintohispocketandpulledouta largepadlock, its key stuck out ofthelock’skeyhole.

“What’sitfor?”“It’llfitoverthelatchon

the inside of my parent’sdoor.” She gave him a

confused look. “It’s okay!Really,takeit.Igetit,okay?If I were you, I’d want oneovermydoor.”

“Uh, thanks.” She tookit,anddespitethefactthatinmany ways the gesture waskinda creepy, giving her alock for her door when hewas the only other person inthe house, she was thankful.He nodded and disappearedbehindhisbedroomdoor.She

closedhers.Thelockfitoverthe door like a glove. Megwent to sleep. When shewoke the next day, the lockwasuntouched.

***

Jim greeted her in the

kitchen. Something goodsmelling was frying on thestove. A jug of orange juicesat on the counter. “Sleep

fine?”heasked.“Yep,” Meg gave him a

tired smile. He returned it,flipped a pancake onto aplate, and then pouredanother batch into the pan.Meg poured a cup of orangejuice for herself. She took adrink. The cold liquid randown her dry throat,awakening the core of herbody as it trickled down toherstomach.Shehadactually

slept rather well. Thepreviousdayhadbeenalongone.

“Iwaskindathinkingit’dcome again in the night, butnothinghappened…somaybethatmeansI’mwrongandit’sover. When’d all this startagain?”

“Two days ago,” Meganswered.

“A week then, maybetwo, before we’re taken care

of. Air force jet passed byabout an hour ago,wokemeup. They’ve been movingaroundalot.Here,”hepassedher a plate, started to scoopbacon, eggs, and pancakesonto her dish. “I’ve beenthinking. A bike’s a goodchoice of travel right now,better than a car. You canweave through blocks on theroad, better than amotorcycle, because it

doesn’tneedgas.”“Slowthough.”Henodded,“Youheaded

north?CanIaskwhere?”She nodded. “Kansas.

Homeforme.”“Oh. I’ve got some

chores to do today, then I’llhead to town and get yourbike fixed. It might take awhile.”

“Youwantsomehelp?”“Uh,sure,ifyou’reupto

it. I’vegottaput some thingsaway, fix the generator outback,cleansomestuffup.”

“Yeah, anything,” Megsaid.“LeastIcando.”

They started the chores.Jim guided her to thebackyard, opened a toolshedoutback, reached inside, andpulledoutaflimsyrake.Meggave the yard a glance. Ashleaveslitteredtheground,andthe red trees surrounding

Jim’s house weren’t eventhrough shedding theirautumn leaves. “They saytrees are a commodity inTexas. You got trees inKansas?”

“Saw one once,” shejoked.“Theybuilt amuseumround it.”He handed her thetool with a laugh. Shegrudginglystartedherwork,asmile on her face all thesame.

While she raked, hestarted dissecting a generatorthat stood against the side ofthe house. She watched himin glances as she worked,stealing looks up from thesteadily growing pile ofleaves. The work he diddidn’t look very interesting.Hedismantledamillionpartsand laid them out in groupsonthegravel,circularshapedchunks of metal in one pile,

large coolant rivets inanother. He was interesting,the meticulousness in whichhe went about disassemblingthe machine. She somehowunderstoodhisprocessjustbywatching him work. Heconsideredallthepartsofthegenerator, not as individualitems, but as fractions of acomplete set, organs in abody. In doing so, he had acomplete image of the

machine in front of him, justby looking at the laid outpieces.

Theystoppedforabreakaroundmidday, thegeneratorhalfway reassembled, a largemound of leaves piled in themiddleof theyard. Jimwentinside andbroughtout apairof cups and a pitcher ofwater.

“Hey, can I ask yousomething about Manny?”

Megasked,takingasipfromherglass.

“Yea,whatabouthim?”“Isheuh-Idunnohowto

sayit.Ishe…weird?”“Whyyouthinkthat?”“He…knew something

about me that I didn’t tellhim.”

“What did he know?”Her face reddened. “Nevermind.Uh-Manny.Let’ssee…no,can’tsaythatheis.”

Are you weird? Shethought.YouknewthatIwasscared last night. You gavemealockformydoor.

Jim stood up and spoke,his voice quieter than usual.“I’m gonna head into town,getthetubeforyourbike.I’llbe back in an hour.” Shenodded,andheleft.

The house was quietwhileJimwasgone.Megsatinside at the kitchen table,

nursing a cup of water, andstaring out the window for atime, watching white cloudspassthroughbluesky.Thingsseemednormal,butshedidn’ttrust the calm. Thingscouldn’t be normal, not afterDallas. She rearranged thecontents of her backpack,pullingouthermostvaluablepossession, the carving knifeshe’d taken from her dormkitchen. She played with it

forabit,swingingitbackandforth in her right hand,gettingusedtotheweightandfeeloftheblade.Jimreturnedanhourandahalflater.

“I’ve got the tubes,” hesaid, strolling in from thekitchen. “Got them from abuddy in town. It cost me alittle.HegetstokeepasetofAllen wrenches I let himborrow a while back. Yourbike’sgonnabegoodtogoin

afewminutes,shouldn’ttaketoo long to fix up. You’llprobably want to wait untiltomorrow to leave though.It’sgettinglate.”

***

Meg prepared for a

second night in Jim’s house.She asked him if he’d beokay with letting her trymakingdinnerthatnight.The

spaghetti had been okay, butMeg thought she could dobetter. He agreed, and Megstarted to go through hispantry looking foringredients.

“Don’t open any cannedstuff. Baggies and boxes areokay. I wanna save anythingthat’snon-perishable.”

For dinner, they hadpestoravioliwithgroundbeefthrown in, seasoned with a

few extra ingredients, andsomefrozenFrenchfriesMeghad found in the back of thefreezer. Despite her opinionof her ability as a cook, thefrieswerethebestpartofthemeal. After dinner, once thedishes were washed, Jimstarted tomove a few thingsfromthehousetothegarage.Crates of food came first,then boxes of tools he hadlying around, loose car parts

andthelike.He moved to the

backyard and worked atfinishing the repairs to hisgenerator. Meg saw a singlecrate full of canned foodforgottenunderthetable.Shepickeditupinbothhandsandcalled to Jim. “To thegarage?”sheasked.Hedidn’tanswer. He had stopped hiswork.Hewaslookingstraightupatthesky.

“Drop it,” he said. “Getinside.”

They went into thehouse. Meg had just enoughtime to grab her pack fromthe hallway floor before Jimpushed her through thedoorwayand into thegarage.Once they were both inside,he started to pick up crates,stacking them against theinnerdoor.Megwatched.Shebacked away from him and

the doorway, toward thecenterofthegarage.

Thesoundstarted,and ittook Meg right back toDallas.Shefeltwoozyas thesoundgrew.Shesatdownonthe greasy floor before herlegs could buckle, and thesound grew. She started tocry. Jim continued tobarricade the openings totheirshelter.

The roar of the storm

never relented, but itwas farfromitspeak.Megknewthatfrom experience. It wouldgrowinvolumeuntiltheroarbecame a scream, and thebuildings would start toshake, but never the ground.Thegroundnevershook.

Is it thesameoneas lasttime? Meg wondered. No, itcan’tbe.Itmovednorth.

She had believed for alittle while that it’d been a

onetimedeal,anaccident.Jimhaddoneallhecould

do for the doorway. Hereachedup,pulling thechordon a single naked light bulbthat hung from the ceiling,giving them a little light inthe darkness. Eerie shadowsdeepened and shallowed oneithersideas thebulbswungbackandforth.JimsatnexttoMeg on the ground. Shelooked up and saw that he

wascryingtoo.

***The crescendo of the

danger grew. In about tenminutes, it would beoverhead, and it would behours before the storm fullypassed,beforethey’dknowiftheyweresafeorgone.

Neither spoke over thestorm’s crescendo. Its noise

hung in the air, steadilygrowing.

When she felt like theonly thing she could do wasspeak, she did, yelling overthe blanketing noise fromoutside. “Howdid you knowthatIwasscaredofyou, thatIdidn’twanttosleepinyourhouse?”Megasked.

“Dunno.” Jim said,“Same way you know aboutyour brother.” Her eyes

widenedatthat.“Yea,Iknowabout that. I get thesethoughts now. They camewith the first attack, and youdo too, right? After peoplestarteddying?Ithinkthat’sabig part of it. Maybe…” Hehesitated.

“What?”“Nevermind.”The storm dug in,

threatening to overtake theentire house, turn it upside

down, crush them under theweightofthegarage.Outside,the things scrambled andscraped against the wood,tearing trees, breakingwindows, destroying theworld.Jimshiftedtowakehisbutt, which had fallen asleepon the cement floor. “Meg,”he said, “you should tell meaboutDallas.”

She cried again, andwiped the tears away. Jim

crawled over to her side andput a hand on herwaist, slidhis palm across her back,holding her gently,reassuringly. She leanedagainst him. “I’m scared,”shesaid.

“Me too.” The stormshook the house in a rhythmof deep thrums and beats. Itwaslikeatidecomingin,thewaveofatsunamispillingoutoveracoastline.

Outside, the stormreached its peak. The noisewas louder than anythingpossible,butMegdidn’thaveto raise her voice. Jim heardeveryword.

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