Hot Zone Read online

  “What is going on?” I asked in a whisper as soon as I was out of Phil’s sight as well.

  Tucker shrugged. “Who knows? From what Meri and I can tell, most of the people who got sick were violent—either to others or to themselves.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Then there are others—like you and Phil, who …” He faltered and shrugged. “The reactions are all over the place. There have been fevers, sleepwalking, confusion, headaches like yours, body aches, vomiting, you name it—someone seems to have had it. And some people just aren’t getting better like you did. You know that lady who lives just below here?”

  “Oh yeah. Mrs. Frisch or French?”

  “Yeah, something like that. She won’t eat or drink, and her daughter says she can’t hold on much longer.”

  And it all suddenly hit me. Poor Mrs. Frisch who had come only a month or two ago to live with her daughter. Eddy going psycho, my illness, Phil’s confusion and fear, and my parents not calling, the breakdown of services I had always expected to be there. I physically felt it all crash in on me. My knees loosened and I sagged to the floor.

  Tucker didn’t try to haul me back up. He just sat down next to me and put his arms around me as I cried and shook and sobbed. Eventually as I began to wind down he told me he had already had his share of tears over this. He told me that Meri had become so frustrated that at one point she had hit him in the chin. He made me look at his chin, and sure enough there was the smudge of a bruise there. He said in a very soft voice that nearly everyone he knew was either dead or missing. “If Meri hadn’t needed my help, I don’t know what I would have done,” he said simply.

  “It would just be better if I could give Phil a hug,” I said, taking the paper towel he gave me and dabbing at my face to get the worst of the wetness off.

  “I wouldn’t try it,” he said. “She is really fragile, and she freaks out when I get anywhere near her. When she saw you sleeping on the floor one time while she was awake and you were out of it, she tried to kick you and said some crap about you having butterflies all over you.”

  I sighed. The eternal clown inside me made me say, “At least it was butterflies and not maggots.” Then I realized that maggots live in dead things and there were probably enough dead things around to make maggot heaven. “Tucker, what about the bodies?” I pictured dead people in the streets.

  “They declared this whole area a disaster, and the National Guard is patrolling. I guess you just go out and tell them, and they will take the body somewhere.” He ended abruptly, as if he had been about to say more. I didn’t press him. As he realized I was now back to what could be called normal, he stood back up and put out his hand. I took it and let him pull me to my feet. I wondered about him. He had fit himself in with us as if he’d always been here. Good old Tucker. But what did he think of this? If he’d put his arms around me in the old days, I would have worried about giving “signals” and then wondered if he was giving “signals” or if I wanted to cross that line of friendship—the whole attraction thing. I did like Tucker, but it wasn’t sexual, I didn’t think. Maybe attraction just couldn’t happen when so much else was going on.

  He said, “You just take it easy and keep getting better. We’ll all take care of Phil, and the rest we’ll just manage as it comes.” He dropped my hand and smiled a little crookedly at me. I had never been much of a believer in God, but I had to admit that things would have been completely different if Tucker hadn’t stopped that day. I nodded back at him, and we both peeked out at Phil. Meri was feeding her slowly, and Phil was eating a little. But she was still staring blankly, and tears still ran silently down her cheeks.

  Chapter 4: I go shopping and tell a story

  I got through the night. I felt shell-shocked and moved about like I was in a dream. A thought would come to me, and I would try to think about it, but before I could examine it, I would be distracted by another thought. I slept, even though that’s pretty much all I’d been doing for days. My headache was still there, but it seemed to be going away slowly, and most of the time I barely noticed it.

  I was getting more and more anxious as time went by and Mom and Dad didn’t call. Finally Tucker volunteered to drive up the way they had gone to my aunt’s cabin and look for them. I told him no, but I was seriously considering it. I wanted to go myself but knew that neither Tucker nor Meri would let me go unless I grabbed the gun and forced the issue. And that was seriously not my style.

  I kept thinking that Mom would call any minute. I had heard from my older brother who lived in Oregon, probably at the behest of his wife, and had assured him I was fine. Dick and I didn’t really get along that well. He was a lot older than I was, and had such a completely different outlook on life I felt like we spoke different languages. He dutifully (again, Tabitha probably reminded him if she didn’t actually dial the phone and put it in his hand) called Mom and Dad about twice a month. Mom would tell me he called, and her mouth would get sort of tight. This meant he had said something that had made her angry or hurt her feelings. Good old Dick. See Dick run. See Dick talk about how much money he makes. See Dick buy another Porsche on credit. See me not be impressed.

  I shouldn’t be such a snot, I suppose. He called, after all. As a matter of fact, whenever my cell service was working (it had become a little unreliable—remember those commercials, “can you hear me now?” Well, it had become, “is it working now?”) Dick had called and so had some other relatives who thought me rather interesting since I was in the “Hot Zone” (that phrase was courtesy of ABC News). They wouldn’t have given me the time of day otherwise, but whatever. Everyone was genuinely concerned about Mom and Dad. No one had heard from either of them. I was starting to wonder if they had died. The problem was that every time I went down that road of possibility, my mind took a detour or made a quick u-turn. It just wouldn’t go there.

  There was a website where you could type in the name of the person you were looking for, and it would send you a message if the person was on the “confirmed deceased” list, the “reported deceased” list or the “confirmed alive” list. I sat down at the computer and tried to fill out the little form, but always “escaped” out before I completed it and pressed send. No, I didn’t really want to know. Finally Meri and Tucker browbeat me into giving them the information and input the facts on Mom and Dad. It took a couple of hours, but we received word back that they weren’t on any list. I didn’t know what to make of that, but Meri thought it was good news.

  Another bit of good news was that Phil had woken in the night and been pretty rational for a change. She still seemed skittish but focused on us and knew who she was. She wouldn’t talk about the things that scared her, but you could tell by looking at her she remembered them. She wanted every light we had on and said (in a rather embarrassed voice) that she didn’t want Tucker or me to get near her. Other than that, she didn’t seem to mind us. A couple of times, however, she would look at me and cringe a little. She didn’t really look Tucker’s way at all unless it was by accident. I was just so happy that she wasn’t crying and screaming I could have danced. Previously I was worrying maybe there was something a doctor would be able to do and by keeping her here we were, well, dooming her.

  That night there were gunshots right down in our street. The bar below us, along with just about everything else, was closed. There was a dark to dawn curfew in effect, and even during the day the military didn’t want anyone out unless they were going to or from a “necessary” workplace (read: police, grocery store personnel, gas station attendant, doctors, utility workers) or stocking up on food. The local cops were easily identifiable since they walked around with simple cotton masks over their faces in deference to the “virus” or “gas” (or evil spirits or whatever). The National Guard, however, was in full anti-infective gear, and bore the look of spacemen in the quiet streets. Admittedly, Catfish didn’t warrant many guardsmen, but a few were around. And they were very heavily armed. Now maybe you understand why I didn’t want to send Tucker o
ff to travel the roads. God only knew what they would do if they caught him roaming about.

  The next morning I was so antsy waiting for news about Mom and Dad I decided we were in desperate need of food, and come hell or high water (or germs or spacemen carrying firearms) I was going to the store. And by God, I was going to walk. Meri gave Tucker a worried look, and I snarled at her, “No, I’m not going crazy. I just feel like a goldfish in a bowl, and I’m tired of swimming in circles.” Okay, so maybe I was a little crazy, but I really felt better, not like I was sliding into insanity. The question was: would I know if I were? I pushed that irritating rational thought away. I was going and that was that.

  Tucker didn’t say a word, just put on a large black coat and waited for me. Meri had spoken to him, but I hadn’t asked what was said. Looking back at it now, I think I was sort of ticked off that she and Tucker treated me as if I might explode at any time. I was recovering, wasn’t I? I wasn’t going to be like Eddy, or like Phil. I was going to be normal. I wondered if they thought just because they hadn’t ever fallen sick it meant they were saner than I. Or maybe stronger. Of course to their point of view, I was acting a little irrational, but I certainly didn’t see it that way then.

  I stopped at the door and glared at Tucker. He didn’t say anything or seem to notice my glare. He just waited, eventually yawning. So much for my killer glare. I stepped out of the apartment and went down past the apartment below ours. I hesitated at the door, wondering if there was anything I could or should do to help. I thought about knocking, but what would I say? Gosh, sorry your mom is nutty. No, best to just move on.

  At the door to the street, I turned on Tucker. “You can just turn around and go back up.”

  He shrugged. “I could use the air.”

  “You’re not understanding me. I want to do this by myself. Go.” I’m usually very polite to people I don’t know all that well. It’s only my true friends and family that get the snappish redheaded side of me. True to form, I was still using my nice voice.

  Tucker didn’t leave. He looked past me out the door to the street.

  “Damn it, listen to me!” I swatted his arm. “Go back.” Some angry little piece of me added, “If you’re doing this to impress Meri, don’t bother. She has a boyfriend.” As soon as I said it, I felt bad.

  Tucker nodded slowly. “That may be, but you aren’t going out by yourself as long as I can help it. I don’t particularly care if you sit down now and have a tantrum, in fact, it’d give me an excuse to throw you over my shoulder and carry you back upstairs. But if you’re going, I’m going. I won’t bother you, and if you prefer, I’ll stay back a bit, so you aren’t embarrassed to be seen with me.” By the end of that statement there was a definite edge to his voice.

  Now I felt completely guilty. I sighed, not knowing what to say to make this go away. I finally mumbled, “Fine,” in a tired voice and pushed open the door, heading out for the first time since all this crap hit the fan.

  The streets were nearly deserted. Many of the storefronts had broken windows, so there must have been looting or violence here. I thought about asking Tucker, but he still seemed annoyed, so I decided to ask later. There was a large pileup of cars at the corner of our street and Vine, which was a relatively busy intersection. The cars hadn’t been towed or moved; it seemed as if the drivers had just abandoned the vehicles. I suppose people saw the cars and just knew to take a different street, not that I saw many cars moving anyway.

  I was a block away when I saw my first “official.” This was an Army Jeep at the corner where the little grocery store stood. I hadn’t realized that we had Army here as well as National Guard. I saw several people near the Jeep, at the little table that had been set up. There was a black banner waving near the table, and as I walked closer, I realized what was happening. This was one of the places where you told the Army or National Guard where to come and pick up the dead. I looked at all the people with their blank faces. Dear God, were that many people still dying? I’d thought the deaths were just at first, but even as I stood there looking, I saw more and more people coming down along different streets and heading to the table to report the deaths of their loved ones. I wondered what happened to the bodies—did they bury them all? I felt a shiver run down my spine and thought about movies I’d seen of mass burials in Nazi Germany—bodies bumping over one another.

  Swallowing back the urge to vomit, I headed away from the death table and into the grocery store. I walked about, as shocked by the reduced produce and meats as I was by everything else. Weren’t we getting supplies? Would we run out of food? No. I had to believe that soon this whole thing would right itself. Soon things would get back to normal.

  I saw Sarah Richardson at the checkout counter, and hugged her like an old friend, even though we’d never been close. She asked me a question I suddenly realized must be what everyone was asking each other as they met along the quiet streets or at the death table: How many have you lost? How many. Not who. The stakes were too high now for “who” and it was sufficient to just name a number. I thought of Eddy, and my parents, and Mrs. Frisch downstairs. Finally I said woodenly, “One.” I knew it was expected, so I said, “What about you?”

  Sarah nodded and said, “Both my parents and my little brother. My little sister is sick but getting better, I think. And I didn’t even get the sniffles.” She looked a little angry as she said this. Survivor guilt.

  I paid her and left, leaving her to the next customer. As I exited the store, Tucker took the sack from me, and I walked quickly until I was about halfway home. As soon as I couldn’t see the death table anymore, I sat on the curb of the empty street and let myself cry. Tucker sat a ways away. After a few minutes of silence, I turned to him. “I am such an idiot. I’m so sorry. I never asked about your brother. Is Dale okay?”

  Tucker nodded at my admission, apparently agreeing that I was an idiot. Fair enough. “Dale isn’t answering his cell, and I can’t find him. I suppose he’s probably dead, but I don’t know, so …” He let his voice trail off.

  “Your parents?”

  “Dad ran off a few years back, but Mom died just before the initial craziness. She wasn’t well for awhile.”

  “Oh, Tucker, I’m sorry about being such a brat earlier. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you, that’s not it at all. It’s just I think you and Meri are treating me like I might go crazy at any moment.” Tucker shook his head. “I think maybe I’m afraid of the same thing.”

  “Don’t,” Tucker said. “Look, I’m the one who pushed myself into your life. I know that.” He seemed truly uncomfortable for a moment, looking away. When he looked back at me, he was assured once more. “I used to have a crush on you, you know. In Chemistry.” He grinned a little at the unexpected joke.

  I suppose I had known that. But to be honest, we really hadn’t been in the same high school social groups, and we had both known it. Harsh but true. I had been nice to him, but he had treated me more like I was a goddess rather than his lab partner. And if I’m really being honest, I had liked his adoration. I feel like a jerk saying that, but what can I say? Being seventeen can mean being rather self-absorbed. Now here he was talking about it, and I didn’t know what to say. I was too emotionally worn out to prevaricate, so I said, “Yeah, I guess. But Tucker, you really don’t seem like the same person now. You’re still nice and everything, still Tucker, just more, um …”

  “Intelligent,” he finished, a little flatly. I shrugged, embarrassed. He said, “I know. I’m not sure what the hell happened. I look back at my life and it’s like I was living in a bubble or something.” He frowned. “I can’t explain it well, but I know I’ve changed.”

  I looked up suddenly. “When, Tucker? When did you notice it? Recently?”

  He nodded. “Recently, yeah. I noticed it a day or two before I came upon you and Eddy.” He saw the look on my face. “I know, it’s probably not even really me, it’s just whatever chemical is floating around, or whatever virus they dosed us with
.” He gave a short laugh. “I bet I’m one of the few people who don’t want to be cured. Everything that used to be so hard for me is easy now. Decisions? No problem. Understanding what other people are talking about? Again, not an issue anymore.”

  “Oh, Tucker,” I said in a heartfelt way. I could imagine what he must be going through, watching all these people die, and being secretly glad that that it had affected him like this. Another thought occurred to me. I looked at him, upset. “Do you think it will go away?”

  He sighed. “I hope not, but if it does, then it does. It’s one reason why I want to help people now, while I can be of some help. It’s nice to be the helper instead of being the one who needs help.”

  “Did I ever say thank you for saving me? For helping out when I was sick? For putting up with me while I cry and whine and be a first-class bitch?”

  He chuckled. “My pleasure, fair lady. And now, I think we should get back before the cops find us sitting out here and shoot us.” He was smiling, but I wondered if it would ever get to that point. No. It was quiet enough. Surely the whole thing was winding down now.

  We walked back to the apartment. Meri sighed with relief when we arrived, and took the food into the kitchen. She smiled at Tucker, and he followed her into the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room. I sat down on the couch, turning on the news. Amazingly enough, the networks were going back to their normal schedule, so I went to the all-news stations. CNN was running a special report called, “Caging Contagions.” Catchy, I thought to myself as I lay on the couch, putting my feet up and getting comfortable. Ten minutes later, I called into the kitchen, interrupting Meri’s and Tucker’s quiet chatting to call them out to see the program. I was now sitting up and holding one of the pillows in my lap.