Hot Zone Read online

  I looked towards Mom and Dad’s bedroom. “Is she awake?”

  “Not right now, but she was earlier, and she was so sweet to me. A little forgetful, and a little, um, I don’t know, ditzy, but compared with how she was, she’s great.”

  I smiled, happy we had come here, happy my friends were recovering. I went out and threw a pillow at Tucker, who sat up immediately. When he saw me grinning at him, he groaned and flopped back down. “What do you want?” he mumbled, the pillow over his head.

  “Go find a real bed,” I laughed. “I can’t be separated from a TV too long, you know.”

  Tucker yawned and looked towards the kitchen. “Who’s in there?” He could hear sounds from in there, but from his position, couldn’t see in.

  “Meri!” I said with a happy smile. “She’s feeling better!”

  Tucker looked surprised and went into the kitchen to see for himself while I turned on the TV and switched it to the local station, which wasn’t all that local, but was the best we had. I watched a commercial of plump puppies playing happy in the knowledge they would live long lives due to their dog food. I watched scrubbing lather clean the kitchen by itself (need me some of that, I thought to myself. Mom would be furious if I trashed the house while they were gone), and finally, a commercial on insurance which assumed that if they played loud music, I would buy their product. Finally the program came on, and sure enough, it was another news program. Since so much of this was of local concern, the local stations had experienced a renaissance of viewership. Who wanted to watch reruns of “Everybody Loves Raymond” when they could find out if we were all going to die tomorrow?

  This one was on location, and at first I almost switched the channel, not wanting again to see how the bioweapons had affected the Twin Cities, which was a popular recurring theme. It was all just too sad. Then I recognized the post office, and let out a short scream that had Meri and Tucker running out of the kitchen.

  I pointed mutely at the screen, my hand over my mouth. There it was in living color—Catfish Lake’s downtown, or what was left of it. Much of the main few blocks of the city, the reporter said, had been destroyed by fire, and some sort of IED or improvised explosive device had been used as well. I felt a chill run over me as I stared at the TV screen, for on it was the rubble of Henry’s Bar, not to mention the burned remnants of our apartment. My ears roared and I missed most of the rest of the report, but Tucker and Meri filled me in on it later. There had been some kind of car bomb, and when emergency vehicles had been slow to respond because of decreased numbers and other emergencies, the entire block had caught. By the time the fire was extinguished, two full city blocks had burned. There had been a few survivors, but only a few. I thought about Mrs. Frisch and her daughter and felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  Tucker was shaking his head and telling Meri about my “story” the day before. I denied having any kind of precognition of what would happen, denied it strenuously, in fact. I insisted that it was all just an amazing coincidence, and we should just be glad it worked out the way it did.

  We watched this until the reporter said they were going to a Presidential news conference. The reporter looked young, inexperienced, and scared. There was a clumsy changing of feeds, accompanied by dead air, something I rarely saw before the bioweapons had come but which I was starting to get used to now. And there he was: our new President. He was markedly younger than the last one, and markedly more Caucasian. He looked a little nervous, and cleared his throat several times during the broadcast. Perhaps because of the sloppiness of the local station, we had come in after the news conference had begun, and the President was saying how difficult this decision was, but how he was relying on the advice from experts on contagious diseases and from his newly assembled cabinet.

  We all looked at each other, and barely noticed that Phil had drifted out of the bedroom and had joined us.

  The President finished, and asked if there were any questions. The reporters nearly jumped out of their chairs trying to get the first question. The lucky woman said, “Is this constitutional? Will the affected areas challenge it?”

  I looked over at Tucker, who looked tense. I felt a little like I did in dreams when I realized that things were falling apart. I wanted to wake up.

  The President said, “It is constitutional for our country to protect itself. I have agonized over this decision, but I think of it like this: can we afford to assure the Hot Zone’s right to freedom of movement if it means more senseless deaths? I don’t think so. We have precedence and we have the law behind us.” He pointed to another reporter, who asked, “When will it begin?”

  The President nodded his apparent approval of this question. “We considered that this may cause some upheaval in the affected area, so we have put procedures in place that assures that those who need to be evacuated had advance warning. During the night past, the National Guard and the Army forces have been removed from the area. Volunteers, such as medical personnel and others, that were there with government approval, were also notified. The Red Cross personnel who were not local have been called away. We have done everything we can to save the lives of those who came to help.”

  An older black man asked suddenly, “So it’s done? The quarantine is already in effect?”

  The President nodded a little tiredly. “Yes. It took effect as of four AM EST, but that’s five AM local time.” He smiled rather benignly.

  There was a silence for about ten seconds. A gray-haired lady I had seen at Presidential news conferences before asked, “What about the people who are not sick and live in the Hot Zone? Will they be allowed to leave?”

  Now the President looked rather irritated. “Marge, that’s what quarantine is all about. We are separating the sick from the well in hopes that this thing can be contained. The people who live there might look well, but who really knows? If we let out the people from the area, we could have this illness all over the United States.”

  The woman didn’t back down. “But Mr. President, do we know the problems we’ve been seeing in the Upper Midwest are contagious?”

  The President narrowed his eyes and stepped forward but was halted by an aide who whispered in his ear. The President stepped back and another man took the mike. “The President is exhausted from all the stress he has been under. If you have any more questions, Mr. Johnson, the press secretary, is prepared to answer them.”

  The President left. The press secretary fielded questions for the next twenty minutes, and essentially painted a rosy picture of the decision to isolate the affected areas. The entire state of Minnesota, and all of Iowa was quarantined. Wisconsin and Missouri had sections closest to the affected states considered as part of the Hot Zone. Some of the western parts of Illinois were included also. The scientists were doing all they could. The governors of the affected states had been apprised of this necessity (although how they could tell the Governor of Minnesota was a mystery since as far as I knew he had been listed as missing, along with the next ten or so people in line. At this time there was no governor). No, the states were not hurting for supplies. No, they didn’t expect this to last more than a couple of days. Really, this was a chance for the people in the affected area to have a vacation of sorts. I gave a bark of laughter at this.

  After the news conference, the pundits had a chance to air their thoughts. There was a lot of sympathy for those in the Hot Zone, and several very strident voices decrying this treatment of U.S. citizens who had already lost so many of their loved ones. But most of those speaking thought that the quarantine protected the rest of the world. I had hoped that there would be such an outcry that the politicians in Washington would have to listen, but it didn’t look likely.

  Finally the local station took back the feed. Again, the people in front of the camera looked scared and uncertain. They seemed to be at a loss as to what to say. There were interviews with prominent members of the government, those that had survived, anyway. One woman, who had been Governor of Iowa until the last elect
ion, said that she couldn’t believe how the Federal Government had turned their backs on those in the Hot Zone. She said that there were very few National Guard still here to keep the peace, and there were more and more signs of unrest among those who had survived.

  The interesting thing to me was that this woman was angry. She was also very worried. She seemed to have more to say than most, and the station stayed with her a long time. Get bottled water, she advised. Make sure you have sufficient food. Supplies could be scarce until the quarantine was lifted. Near the end of her interview, she looked squarely at the camera. “Pray that they find, quickly, we are not a threat to them. Because if they don’t, we might just have our own little country here. One with no standing army and devastated by disease.”

  The reporter looked shocked. “Would we all die?” she asked worriedly.

  The former Governor shook her head. “Absolutely not. We’re the Midwest! What would happen to New York if it were suddenly stranded like this? They’d be dead within days—they cannot support themselves. We, however, can support ourselves. We produce food; have abundant water, and a lot of renewable energy. Don’t think we can’t survive, because we can. True, we’ve been hurt badly by this, and things will change, but we won’t lie down and die.”

  Phil said softly, “She is channeling energy from those who have died around her.”

  We all looked at Phil. She’d been so quiet, I’d forgotten about her. “What honey?” Meri asked, but Phil sighed and just closed her eyes. Talk turned back to what we should do now.

  Tucker said that since there wasn’t a curfew, he could at least drive the route my mom and dad had taken. Along the way, he could look for his brother, and ask around if anyone had seen any of them. I ran off to find pictures of Mom and Dad. He was ready to go soon, but I insisted he sit down first and we talk about what would happen next.

  Phil unexpectedly took the lead. “I think that’s a good idea. Can you see anything, Madde?” she asked me.

  “See anything?” I asked with an uncertain laugh. I wasn’t sure if Phil was still confused, or if she was referring to the fire. I decided that only I had been freaked out by that coincidence. “No. Do you see something?” I didn’t mean to sound patronizing, but a little hint of it sneaked out.

  Meri frowned. “I want to know too. You knew the fire was coming, give us an idea of what’s coming next.”

  “Hey, that fire thing was just a coincidence. If everyone thinks it’s funny to tease me about it, then fine. But I’m serious about this, we need to consider what might happen next.”

  Tucker said quietly, “Let’s admit that it’s possible you have some kind of—”

  “Some kind of what, Tucker? If you think back, you were the one who wanted to leave. You nearly insisted on it.”

  He nodded. “I know. You made me worried.” I started to speak, but he held up his hands to forestall me. “No, I know you’re right. So maybe we both have a touch of precognition. Or maybe, like you said, it’s coincidence.”

  I still felt grumpy. A silence fell as we all considered this. Well, they considered it—I sat and refused to consider it.

  Phil said suddenly, “There is no question here. I can see that you are different now.” She smiled a little. “I can see everything—all kinds of things I couldn’t see before.”

  Meri said, “Before you were sick?”

  “Before I was sick.” Phil echoed as if she was considering that strange string of words. “Yes.” She suddenly looked at Tucker. “When were you sick?”

  He shook his head. “I never got sick.” He reached out and gave a rap on the wooden coffee table. “Knock on wood.”

  Phil said offhandedly, “Don’t bother, that doesn’t work. And you were sick. You have it too, just like we all do.”

  “Have what?” Tucker asked, interested. Whether this was because Phil wasn’t shrinking away from him (and no man can resist Phil when she looks his way, recently sick or not) or because he actually wanted to know more, I wasn’t sure.

  “I don’t know what to call it,” Phil said, a little softly. Her voice was ethereal, not at all like her normal strong alto. It was as if she wasn’t all in this world, I thought to myself, then shivered at that idea. “It’s like a field around you. And yours is strong, Tucker. And it’s still arriving.”

  Tucker said, “I don’t understand.”

  “I can see it, you know? You’ve had it ever since I first woke up and saw you. I was scared at first because it’s strong, and I wondered if you were trustworthy. I think now you are. It seems calm, somehow.”

  Meri said, “What does it look like?”

  “It’s like, sort of like light, only it comes from inside of him. I thought at first when I saw them that they were all over you, like parasites, but I see them brighten when you think of something or are upset. No, they’re you, but more you than before.”

  Tucker surprised me by accepting this bizarre idea immediately or pretending to. “Are you sure we didn’t always have these? That you just couldn’t see them before?”

  Phil smiled. “It’s possible, but Meri didn’t have one until she got sick, and now she is becoming bluer.”

  Meri said, “Bluer? Like more blue? Is that good or bad?”

  “Uh, not to upset you or anything, Phil, but I’m not sure you aren’t just seeing things,” I said suddenly, unable to stand this acceptance of such a ridiculous idea.

  Phil said, “Anything is possible.” She wasn’t upset; in fact, she was smiling at me like a parent of a child who insists that Santa is real.

  Tucker cleared his throat. “That brings us back to guessing what will happen next. I think people are going to try to leave this area. I wonder if we should try to leave.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I wonder if the problem is just here. I know some of the people who came here got sick, but have you heard anything about sick people showing up elsewhere? Surely some people have left the area, but I haven’t heard a thing about a sick person turning up anywhere else.”

  Meri said, “Oh, I think there were some sick people in California, but they weren’t even sure it was the same thing.”

  I said, “And don’t you think the mighty federales,” I lowered my voice to a gruff tone to bring my Mexican bandito impression home, “will be looking for people to try to leave?” My voice returned to normal. “If they thought illegal immigration was a problem, try fencing off the entire Upper Midwest.”

  Tucker nodded. “Yeah, we could get out, if we wanted. What do you think, ladies? Should we go?”

  Phil said immediately, “No. I need to be here. I don’t know why,” she said, looking at me, “but I think it’s a good idea. It feels better to stay here.” She laughed. “And suddenly, I’m finding myself a big believer in intuition.” Again she looked at me. “What do you think, Madde?”

  “I think,” I hesitated. “I wouldn’t know where else to go. I still want to find Mom and Dad. If we left, we wouldn’t have any money, and we would be illegally leaving a quarantine area. I could be wrong, but they seem pretty serious about keeping us here.” Tucker nodded in agreement. Maybe I said this next part to soften my skepticism of Phil’s earlier statements. “And I must say I agree with Phil. It feels wrong to go.” Of course, maybe it really did feel wrong. It was so hard to tell with feelings—that is why I distrusted the whole intuition thing.

  Meri said, “I think that I’ll wait a little and see how things shake out, but a part of me would like to go visit my Aunt Missy in Denver, or Mom and Dad in California.” She shrugged, a little apologetically. “I want to find Cal,” she admitted.

  No one had anything to say to that. Meri continued, “But he’d kill me if I got shot trying to run through a quarantine.” She grinned at her own illogic. “So I’m going to wait and see first how serious they are. He’s the hero in the family, not me. I have strong roots in my coward position.”

  We laughed, and that broke the tension somewhat. “Okay,” Tucker said, “I’ll try
to get some bottled water and other stuff as I look for our errant family. I think that lady from Iowa had the right idea. I don’t know if they’ll drop in supplies by air or what, but until we know more, we should be prepared.”

  Meri blurted, “Are you sure you should go?”

  Tucker shrugged. “No reason why not.”

  Meri’s teeth tugged at her lip. “I just think that I—we, all of us, would be upset if you got hurt out there.”

  I saw the expression on Meri’s face and rushed to back her up. “She’s right Tucker. You’ve been a huge help to us.”

  Tucker smiled at us, but a little more at Meri than at me, I thought. “I promise to be careful. How about this? I’ll wait until morning to leave, and then if things seem too crazy, I’ll turn right around and come back.”

  Phil said softly, “and take a gun.”

  Tucker sobered. “I plan to.”

  Meri looked unhappy, but nodded. If I didn’t know that she was a one-man woman, I would have worried. As it was, I had enough to worry about with the world coming apart around us.

  Chapter 6: Sarah Richardson does a runner

  Tucker left and within fifteen minutes there was the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway. I thought for sure Tucker had just forgotten something and had returned. I put on a grin and went to the door, ready say something teasing like, back already? I froze when I saw an emerald green Mercedes. Who was this?

  A woman got out of the car and looked at me. I said, surprised, “Sarah!”

  She shrugged and nodded, looking embarrassed. There was at least one other person in the car, I noticed. She shut the door of the car and came to the front door. I ushered her inside, trying to figure out what she wanted. We had never really been friends, but since this town was so small, we had run into each other occasionally. She ran with a different crowd—the cheerleaders, mostly. I hadn’t really been interested in sports to the extent of even having to pretend to cheer them on, so I’d never been sorry that I wasn’t a cheerleader. Meri came out of the bedroom curiously and I gestured to Sarah. “You know Sarah Richardson?”