“I’ll take care of you,” I promised. Mom came over and kissed the top of my head.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. You scared us.”
I pushed to my feet and went to go rinse my bowl out. The sink had been filled with boiled water. Still, I put on a pair of kitchen gloves that went up to my elbows and used a huge squirt of antibacterial dish soap. A bowl had never been so clean.
And speaking of clean, I really needed to bathe, but that wasn’t going to happen, vaccine or not. A pot of boiled water had been placed in the bathroom for washing up. I dunked a wash cloth and cleaned my body and face, rinsing the cloth by dipping a cup into the pot and pouring it over top of the cloth in the sink. What a huge pain this was. I couldn’t wait to get things back to normal. But when would that be? Especially considering nobody was at the electric offices? It made no sense.
Thankfully my hair didn’t get greasy like Remy’s. I could let it go without a washing for a few days before it started to look dank. I pulled it up into a messy bun and went out to join my family. The tightness in my abdomen was still there, making me unable to stand straight.
Mom and Abuela both had their purses on. Dad and Grandpa Tate were at the door.
“You guys going to get the vaccines?” I asked.
“Yes,” Mom said. “I would offer for you to come, but I think you should stay here and rest, just in case you’ve got a bug.”
“Okay.” I collapsed on the couch, kicking up my feet. My stomach spasmed and I rolled to my side, curling in.
Rylen and Livia were at the door when they opened it. I gave them a wave and forced a smile.
Ry came over and crouched next to me.
“Is she getting the shot?” I whispered to him.
“I don’t know. I told her what happened to you, but she says she wants to.”
That was scary. If it hurt her nearly as much as it hurt me, she could surely miscarry. But if she got the virus, she could die. That would be a hard choice. I didn’t envy them.
When he started to stand, I grabbed his arm.
“Make sure you tell them,” I whispered. “Before they give her the shot.”
Rylen squinted at me. “Tell them what?”
I raised my brows as if to say, You know what. His face went slack when he realized I knew—that I’d heard. I felt bad admitting to eavesdropping, but this was serious.
He looked away and gave his earlobe a tug. “I will.”
I kept hold of his arm. “They’ll let you know if it’s a risk. And then you need to let Livia decide what she feels like she should do.”
Though he looked torn, he nodded. I let go of his arm, but he lingered in front of me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. He looked like young Rylen making adult phone calls while his father was in prison . . . like he wasn’t quite ready for the responsibility, but he would fake it like a champ. He was the picture of determined strength with hints of vulnerability and fear around the edges. But he never ran away.
I caught a glance over his shoulder of Livia sending us furtive looks as Mom talked to her.
“Go on,” I whispered. They were all waiting. He gave me a meaningful nod before standing. I watched them leave and then got up to turn off the radio. I could only take so much doom each day. I forced down a bottle of water and more pain meds before crashing on the couch again.
Unfortunately, I was wide awake now. With nothing to do. No internet to browse, no television shows to watch, no phone line to call Remy. It’d been forever since I made time to read. I wondered if the library or bookstore was staying open these days. And was I really willing to waste gas to seek entertainment?
Footsteps shuffled up our front steps followed by a knock. I went to the door and opened it a crack, thinking someone in my family forgot something. But it was an unfamiliar man who stood there, unshaved and thin. He gave me a smile when he saw my face through the inch of open door.
“Hi there, Miss,” he said in a dry voice. “I got some kids at home with no food. I was wondering if you had anything you could spare.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a rush of guilt about just how much we had to spare. “Sure, hold on just a second.”
It was probably rude of me, but I’d seen way too much not to be cautious. I totally closed the door on him and locked it. In the kitchen, I took two cans of soup, two bottles of water, and a sleeve of crackers. I put them all in a grocery bag. If I took more Grandpa Tate would notice and have my head. He probably would have told the guy we had nothing.
I went back to the front door and gave him the bag.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. His eyes raked me, and he looked past my shoulder as if checking out the inside of the house, then back to my face. “You got a real nice smile.”
“Thanks,” I said, getting squigged out now. “Have a good day, sir.”
He shoved a boot into the doorway when I tried to close it. “Now, hold on just a second, pretty thing.”
Panic, along with a hell of a lot of training, set in. I wrenched open the door enough to slam my bare heel into the spot just above his kneecap. When he pulled back his leg with a shout, I slammed the door shut and spun the deadlock into place with a shaking hand.
“Stupid, fucking bitch!” I heard him shout.
I ran to the back sliding glass door in the dining room to make sure it was locked, then the garage door. If he tried to break in, I’d go straight for Dad’s hunting rifle. But when I peeked through the window, he was hobbling away, stopping every few steps to lean down and grab his knee with one hand while holding the bag in the other. He probably didn’t have any kids to feed. I wanted to snatch that soup back from him, the bastard. I watched until he was out of sight. I wished I could call the cops. What if he tried to get into someone else’s house? I had no idea what his intentions were—to steal or rape—but neither of those were on my to-do list.
I covered my mouth against another bout of nausea. It was one thing to hear stories about people taking advantage of the current situation, and another horrible thing to see it firsthand. I didn’t want to lose faith in humanity, but damn. People made it hard.
I watched my family closely when they returned home.
“Did you all get the shot?” I asked.
Mom nodded. “It took forever. They’re understaffed.”
“Are they?” That surprised me. I’d tried to get a job there after my schooling, but smaller clinics in small towns rarely had turnover.
“What about Livia?” I asked. “Did she get it?”
“Of course,” Mom said. Then I remembered she didn’t know Livia was pregnant, otherwise she and Abuela would be making a huge fuss over her. The fact that she’d gotten the shot made me nervous. As jealous and hurt as I was, whether I had a right to be or not, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.
My family appeared normal as the day went on. My own stomach still held a deep, aching cramp, and my head throbbed, but I was able to get around. It wasn’t until hours had passed and my family still seemed fine that I began to relax.
“I’m going to check on Livia and Len,” I told them. It would be good to stretch my legs.
“You bring food.” Abuela bustled into the kitchen and I realized it was nearing dinnertime. She handed me a covered Pyrex dish with a layer of rice, canned tomatoes, and canned chicken. It didn’t sound appetizing, but she probably worked some magic with spices. I kissed her cheek and headed out with my medical bag slung over my shoulder.
I was careful to look all around me for that creepy man, as if he might be lurking behind our front bushes or the citrus trees that lined the road. I’d never had reason to be nervous or scared in our small town, especially on our own property. Once I was in the potato field, certain I wasn’t being followed, I thought about Len. This was right around the time when Red Virus victims took turns for the worse. My heart was a heavy, burdensome rock in my chest when I thought about Rylen losing his father.
I noticed the absence of chickens wh
en I got up to their house, but I could hear them clucking in their closed pen. I climbed the cinderblock steps and opened the creaky screen door, then knocked.
Rylen pulled the cloth curtain aside and unlocked the door.
“Hey, Pepper.” He stood aside and let me step in before taking the dish.
“From Abuela,” I explained.
“Give her my thanks.” His face was serious, as always, but not grim.
“How’s Livia? And your dad?”
“Fine, actually. Come on in and see for yourself.”
Relief. My heart lightened as I followed him into the living room, stopping so he could set down the dish on the way.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Len was sitting up on the couch. He looked half-dead and sweaty, but he was sitting up. His forearms and face were still splotchy with spots, but as I got closer I could see they looked darker, like they were drying. None of the other patients I’d seen had recovered.
“Hi, Mr. Fite,” I said. “Mind if I check you over real quick?”
“Nope,” he rasped.
I put on my gloves and took his temperature. It was down to one hundred. All of his vitals were slightly elevated, but nothing alarming.
“Wow,” I said, giving him a smile. “I think you’re one of the twelve percent.”
“I ain’t ready to die,” he said. “Gotta find out who stole my chickens first.”
“Someone stole your chickens?”
“Yeah,” Rylen said. “When we got back today I noticed our main hen and the rooster were gone. We’ve got the rest locked up in the pen now.”
My lips pursed in anger. I hadn’t planned to tell anyone about the man at our house, but I found myself blurting out the story now, wondering if the thief had been the same guy.
I watched Rylen’s hands form fists when I got to the part about him sticking his foot in the door, and though he nodded appreciatively when I told him I’d kicked the guy’s knee in, Ry’s fists never relaxed. He bounced them on his thighs, in thought, when I finished.
“Don’t open the door like that anymore,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “I know, I know. I’ve learned my lesson.”
He turned to Livia and said, “Please, do not unlock the door for anyone you don’t know.”
She watched his face as if concentrating on each word really hard, and she nodded. I looked her over.
“Are you feeling well after the vaccination?” I asked her in Spanish.
Again she nodded. I gave her a small smile and she returned it.
“Bien.” I stood to go.
“Take some eggs with you,” Rylen said, standing as well.
“Do you have enough?” I asked. “’Cause you know the Tates will never turn down eggs.”
He laughed. “We’ve got over two dozen just from the past two days. I’ll give you a dozen to take.”
“Awesome.” Eggs!
In the kitchen he handed me a full carton. He leaned against the old counter and crossed his arms. “I need to report to base tomorrow.”
“I thought you still had a couple days.”
“I do, technically, but . . .” He shook his head.
“Yeah, I know. I get it.” He felt like he needed to be doing something.
“I should wait,” he said regretfully. “Until my dad’s stronger. I’m worried if things keep up like they are someone’ll try and break into our barn for the spare gasoline and he won’t be able to stop them.”
It sucked that we had to worry about things like that.
“Will you keep an eye on my dad and Liv when I go? Just check on them now and then?”
“Sure, of course.”
“She likes you, you know.” I swallowed hard and looked down at the eggs as he kept going. “She doesn’t say much, but I know she’s grateful to have you and your family.”
“Good,” I whispered.
He walked me to the door and held open the screen. Once I was out, he stepped out on the top block and crossed his arms, eyes scanning the field and our property beyond. His arms bulged when he stood like that, and his hips jutted out. I cleared my throat and yanked my eyes away.
“I’ll watch till you get in your house.”
I didn’t bother telling him he didn’t have to do that, because I knew he would anyway, and I also appreciated the comfort of knowing I was safe. So, I walked home with Rylen’s eyes on my back, wondering why I’d been the only person to react to the vaccine as I had. Or maybe I had some twenty-four hour bug? That was more likely, considering all the germs I’d encountered in the not-so-sterile school the past two days. Whatever it was, I was glad it was just about gone because I couldn’t stand to sit around at home another day. I needed to stay busy.
I looked up, startled, when I heard running footsteps on the pavement up ahead and panting breaths. I stared, in shock, at the sight of Remy’s father, Mr. Haines, running down my road. As a Baptist preacher, I’d only ever seen him well put-together, pressed pants and collared shirts. Right now half of his shirt was untucked and sweat marks colored his armpits and chest.
A burn of panic sizzled up my spine. I nearly dropped the eggs. Something was wrong. Oh, my God, Remy.
I set the eggs on our lawn and ran to him. In my peripheral I could see Rylen running toward us too.
Mr. Haines nearly collapsed, bending over and grabbing above his knees to catch his breath. He lived in the housing development down the road, but it would have taken him twenty minutes to get here by foot.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Remy . . .”
No!
“Is it . . .” I needed to find out if she had the virus, but I faltered when my body convulsed in a tremor of fear. Rylen caught up, staring at Mr. Haines.
“It’s okay,” I told him, but my voice shook. “This is Remy’s dad.” I looked at the man again and took a huge breath. “Does she . . . have spots?”
He stood up so he could look at me, still breathing hard. “No. She’s on the bathroom floor, throwing up, in so much pain. We don’t know what to do.”
My eyes went wide. “Did she get the vaccine?”
He looked surprised. “Yes. We went this morning.”
I closed my eyes and exhaled sharply, the fear draining palpably from my chest. “I think she’s going to be okay. The same thing happened to me last night. But I want to check on her just in case. Did you run all the way here?”
“My car ran out of gas at the exit to our neighborhood.”
“I’ll drive,” I told him. I looked up into Rylen’s worried eyes. “It’s okay. You can go back home. Thank you.”
He nodded and took a few steps back, watching me another moment before turning to go home.
I rushed into the house and gave my mom the eggs, quickly explaining what was going on before I ran back out, keys in hand. When we got to the top of the road and turned the corner, I gasped at the sight of the gas station. The glass door was broken and people were pushing in and out with things in their hands.
“Oh, my gosh!” I pointed.
“Keep going,” Mr. Haines warned. “It’s happening all over town. People are dangerous when they’re desperate.” His voice was forlorn, and I felt heavy with grief for our town.
We got to Remy’s parents’ house in record time. The number of cars abandoned on the side of the road, out of gas, was disheartening.
Remy’s house was gorgeous. Her mom, the leading real estate agent for the town, was the breadmaker for their family. I ran in and took the white-carpeted stairs two at a time up to their hall bathroom outside Remy’s bedroom. She was curled up in a tight ball, shivering on the floor just as I had been. Her mom was at her side, face red from crying. I crouched over Remy and brushed the sweaty hair back from her face. Her mom stood and I heard her ask what had taken so long, followed by Mr. Haines telling her that his car had run out of gas. I took all of Remy’s vitals. Low grade fever. Definitely no spots.
“You’re going to be okay, Rem,” I murmured. ??
?I spent last night with this, too. I think it’s from the vaccine, or maybe just a stomach bug, but if it’s what I had, you’ll feel better soon, okay?”
She gave me a weak, “Okay,” and reached her shaking hand for mine, pulling it to her chest with surprising strength.
“Thank the Lord,” her mother said. Her dad closed his eyes, his shoulders drooping.
Remy held my arm like a doll. I stretched out next to her on the cool, pristine tiles and kept stroking her long, blonde waves back from her face. She moaned and curled tighter as a wave of pain contracted her abdomen. I stayed with Remy several hours until her stomach was relaxed enough to take some pain medication, and we got her into bed.
Her parents both hugged me, their eyes red.
“Thank you for coming to get me,” I told Mr. Haines. “How are you guys doing on food and water?”
“Actually,” he said, “we’re just about out of food, but we’ve been using the pool water and boiling it.”
My eyebrows went up. I hadn’t thought about the pool.
“We’d been putting off converting it to salt water, and now I see it was a blessing in disguise,” he told me. “Tastes a little like chlorine, but it’s better than nothing.”
“I’m so glad,” I said.
I left with the promise that I’d be back to check on Remy in the morning on my way to work.
In the car I listened to the news and remembered it was December. This was when Christmas songs usually started on the radio, but there was none of that this year. I doubted there would be any tree stands or festively lit houses either, unless by some miracle we got electricity back.
“. . . one step closer to rooting out the enemy,” Senator Navis was saying. “We have obtained breakthrough intelligence, information about cells of the unknown organization in certain towns across the United States. We are calling these culprits Outliers. Your local Disaster Relief Initiative representatives will be in touch in all areas that are in danger. I urge each of you to comply with their instructions. I repeat, it is essential that each and every citizen do their part by following instructions and remaining calm. I know you want the perpetrators of these heinous crimes caught just as badly as I do. And I promise you, they will be. We will root out the evils of this society and rebuild. We will be an even stronger nation.”