Jakarta Pandemic, The (36 page)

He stepped into the family room and put his hand on Emily’s head, softly stroking her hair. She was curled up in one of the oversized leather chairs right inside the great room entrance, eyes closed with a book weakly grasped in her right hand. She opened her eyes slowly as he petted her head.

“Hey, sweetie. Whatcha reading?” he asked.

She stifled a yawn and stretched her shoulders back. “Just one of the
Explorer
series books. I still have like four or five more in the series that I haven’t read yet.”

“You still like those, huh?” he asked, kneeling down next to her chair.

“Yeah, I forgot how good they were.”

“Even without vampires or the undead floating around? Hard to believe.”

“Even without vampires, Daddy.”

“Sounds good, cupcake. Why don’t you close your eyes and go back to sleep?” he suggested.

Emily nodded and started to drift away.

Kate looked up from the iPad. “How is everyone?” she asked quietly, glancing at Ryan, who appeared undisturbed.

“Not bad overall,” he said, signaling her with his head to meet him in the other room.

He walked back into the kitchen, and she joined him shortly after. They both walked over to the den. Alex turned one of the lamps on and they both plopped down into the leather club chairs, keeping the door open.

“This is a nice room. We should spend more time in here,” Kate said and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, it is sort of a sanctuary.” He paused. “So it looks like my brother is going to be fine. My parents picked him up from the hospital in Castle Rock this morning and brought him to their house. He still has pneumonia, but I guess he responded well to antibiotics and the intensive intervention that was still miraculously available at that hospital. Lucky bastard. Broke his arm in the car crash.”

“Why did Karla make your parents drive over an hour out to Castle Rock?” Kate asked angrily.

“Karla died at the Fort Carson flu triage center last night. My parents had a long day yesterday,” he said flatly.

“God, those poor kids. I can’t even imagine. Did you know she was sick?”

“No. I haven’t talked to them for a week. Just a few emails to make sure they were okay. Mom said she came down with symptoms really fast. The kids were already sick, but never got worse. They all took the anti-virals. My mother tore Daniel’s house apart and found the drugs stashed in one of the bathroom closets, still in the original box I sent. Unopened,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. “Anyway, Karla’s dad still lives in Colorado Springs. Made it to Colonel before retiring right outside of Fort Carson. He pulled some strings to get her into the triage center on base. It sounds like she went fast. Complete respiratory breakdown within like a day and a half. Ethan and Kevin are staying with my parents, along with Daniel. It doesn’t sound like Daniel is out of the woods yet. They gave him some strong antibiotics to take home, but he really needs to stay on an antibiotic drip. I don’t know. Sounds like they were actively clearing hospital beds and ventilators for other patients.”

“I’m really sorry to hear about Karla. I can’t believe it. So fast. She was the world to those kids,” Kate said.

“That’s why we can’t take any chances here. This thing really seems to be annihilating younger, healthy adults. Karla, Eric Bishop, Joe Burton. All you hear on the news are reports of healthy adults being taken down in the course of a few days. Gone. That’s why we can’t afford a slip up,” Alex said.

“I know,” Kate agreed. “Should we say anything to the kids?”

“No. It would just freak them out.”

“All right. I’m so glad your parents are watching them. I don’t think they would stand a chance if it wasn’t for them,” she said.

“That’s what I told them. I also told them to go ahead and take the TerraFlu I gave them. They each have two courses of therapy. I forgot I gave them more than one. With the kids and Daniel in the house, they’re bound to get sick. If TerraFlu is in their system before they show symptoms, then they might not even develop more than a mild fever or cough.”

“Good. You’re right, they’ll be fine. I know they will. I am going to work on some dinner,” Kate said, getting up from her seat.

“Your clan isn’t still considering a migration up to your brother’s place are they?” he asked her.

“No, I got an email from them this morning. Too many moving parts. Three cars, barely enough gas to pull it off. They’ve stockpiled a lot of stuff over there, and they’d have to move that too. Princeton is still pretty quiet, but the mayhem is getting closer, spilling out of Philly…New York…northern Jersey. They’re nervous about it, but they’re way better off staying put. God only knows what could happen to them on the road. They’d be forced to transit some highly populated parts of Jersey and Mass…places that look like borderline warzones right now.”

“I think they made a good call,” Alex said, following her out of the room.

“How does pasta and sauce sound? Throw some beans in there, maybe?” Kate suggested, opening the pantry door.

“Works for me,” he said, leaning over to dig an onion out of a red net bag on the floor of the pantry.

“How many more of those do we have?”

“Four more in this bag, and we have another bag of about twelve in the bunker.”

“We do?” she asked.

“We do. You should spend a little more time down there. You might find all kinds of nice little surprises.” He laughed.

“Maybe I will.” She took a box of pasta and a large can of crushed tomatoes to the counter next to the stove.

Alex followed behind her and took a large squat knife out of the knife rack. He put the knife behind his back in a reverse commando grip and moved behind Kate, never exposing her to the blade. Just as he reached the wooden chopping block, their phone rang. He put the knife and onion down and grabbed the phone from the island.

“Ed,” he said to her and answered the phone. “What’s up, Ed? More funny noises in the basement?” Alex asked.

“Now that it’s clear that I have Rambo guarding my house, I highly doubt we’ll see either of those two again. Thanks again, I guess. At least you didn’t blast a hole in my house,” Ed said.

“Nice. Any time, Mr. Appreciative,” Alex replied, smiling at Kate, who was watching him. “Hold on, Ed, while I seek some privacy.”

“Who is it, Dad?” Ryan called out from the family room.

“It’s your girlfriend’s dad, Mr. Walker,” Alex said.

“Great,” Kate sighed.

“Dad! She’s not my girlfriend!”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” he said and slid the pocket door to the mudroom shut to add a layer of soundproofing, in anticipation of the uproar he may have ignited. He heard Ryan still grumbling to Kate about what he’d said, and he shut the door to the den, locking it to prevent intrusion by an embarrassed twelve-year-old.

“I’m sure Ryan was happy to hear you say that,” Ed cracked.

“Yeah, it was like setting off a bomb in the kitchen for Kate to clean up. What’s going on?” Alex asked, switching on the overhead light, which did not please him.

“I think Jamie’s home. We saw a car pull away from the house about ten minutes ago. Never saw it pull up. Now there are lights on over the garage in the master bedroom. The girls never turned those lights on.”

“Should we go over there and make sure everything is all right?” Alex asked.

“I think I’ll call first. Maybe it’s a relative, her parents or something,” Ed said.

“I thought their families were pretty far away?”

“Midwest somewhere. That’d be a long trip.”

“Really long. I doubt it’s a relative.”

“You’re probably right,” Ed replied.

“Yet to be wrong,” Alex quipped.

“Keep running around the neighborhood with a shotgun, and that might change.”

“That’s what my wife thinks.”

“She might be on to something,” Ed said. “Anyway, I’ll give her a call. If she’s home, we could bring over some supplies for them later tonight.”

“Keep me posted,” Alex said.

“I’ll call you later.” Ed hung up.

Alex reentered the kitchen and briefed Kate on the most recent development.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Alex lay awake in bed on his left side, staring at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Kate’s arms were wrapped around him, and her body was pressed snuggly into his back. He heard Emily breathing deeply on the other side of Kate. Having both of the kids in the master bedroom made him feel better, more at ease, given the unstable climate in the neighborhood. Their rooms seemed so far away at the other end of the house, and with the staircase emptying in front of the entrances to both of their rooms, he worried about being able to reach them in time if they had an intruder.

More worries.

As Alex started drifting back to sleep, he heard the doorbell ring.

“Who’s that?” Kate mumbled.

Alex sat up slowly, feeling exhausted by the unplanned two-hour interruption to his sleep last night. He slid out of the covers and walked over to the front window, raised the shade halfway, and saw that a police cruiser was parked on the street in front of their mailbox. He could read “Scarborough Police” on the side of the car.

“It’s the police. Stay in bed, I’ll see what’s up,” he said and pulled a pair of dark brown corduroy pants out of the closet.

“If you insist,” Kate said.

He arrived at the mudroom door dressed in the brown pants, a thin gray long-sleeved shirt, and bare feet. Alex looked through the mudroom door window and saw a police officer standing on the stoop; another officer stood back several paces on the walkway. The furthest officer took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth, and Alex could clearly see his breath.

Nasty cold out.

Neither looked particularly contentious or alarmed, and Alex felt only the typical apprehension he might experience finding two police officers standing outside their door.

Travelling in pairs? Things must really be going to shit out there.

He slipped on a pair of Crocs and opened both the interior and storm doors to greet the officers, and was met by an expected rush of bitterly cold air.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said, stepping out onto the stoop with the officer.

“Morning. Mr. Fletcher?” the officer on the stoop asked.

The other officer nodded a friendly, but stiff greeting. Alex considered the officer standing a few feet from him. From inside the house, the officer looked like any uniformed law enforcement official he had seen before, prior to the pandemic, but on closer inspection, Alex immediately spotted the considerable strain these officers must be facing.

Officer Hale, as he read from the name badge, looked like he hadn’t shaved in at least two days. That, combined with the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, led Alex to believe that he hadn’t slept much either in the past few days. The condition of his uniform betrayed the same ordeal. Although still far from unserviceable, his uniform was no longer the crisp, heavily starched and pressed navy blue uniform he surely wore just a month ago.

Glancing furtively, Alex saw that one knee of his uniform pants was dirty, or possibly just worn through. He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t plan to take another look. The last thing he noticed in his cursory examination was that the officer was wearing some kind of enhanced body armor under his cold weather parka. Whatever he was wearing, it didn’t resemble a standard ballistic vest; this one was much thicker, giving his upper body a significant barrel-like appearance.

Probably fitted with some ceramic trauma plates. Stop an AK-47 bullet. These guys aren’t taking any chances.

“Alex. Just Alex. How can I help you guys?”

“Mr. Fle…Alex, we’re looking into the possible discharge of a firearm in your neighborhood. Happened two nights ago…and…”

Officer Hale was having trouble forming the words, probably due to sheer exhaustion. The other officer helped him out.

“One of the neighbors reported several gunshots coming from over there. Shotgun,” he said, pointing in the general direction of Ed’s house.

“I didn’t hear any gunshots last night. Pretty quiet around here,” Alex said, as they gathered near the mudroom overhang.

“Actually, the report came in two nights ago,” Hale said, stealing a glance at Downes.

“Nothing all week, actually,” Alex said, starting to feel a warmth creep over his face.

“Well, the person who called insisted they saw you in the backyard, behind the Andersons’, right about the same time as the gunshots. Around two thirty in the morning.”

“And they’re sure it was me?” Alex asked.

“The report makes it pretty clear that they thought it was you.”

Alex shrugged. “Well, I can guarantee you that I don’t make a habit of running around the neighborhood in the wee hours of the morning with a gun. Especially these days. Did anyone else report the shots?”

“We got a call from the street behind you and two more from your street, just reporting what they thought was gunfire. Mr. Fletcher…Alex, do you own any firearms?” Officer Hale asked.

“You guys want to step in the garage? I’m freezing my nuts off out here. I’d invite you in the house, but we’re enforcing a strict quarantine until the flu tapers off,” Alex offered.

Officer Hale looked at Downes, who nodded.

“Sure,” Hale said.

“Let me open the door. I’ll be right back.” Alex opened the far garage door, and the officers stepped into the empty space, which was considerably warmer than the open air. Alex met them in the empty bay and leaned against the 4Runner’s rear passenger door. The two officers stood several feet away from him, in the middle of the empty bay, with their backs to the double-stacked woodpile. Both officers crossed their arms, almost in unison, taking what Alex interpreted to be a neutral, yet interrogative stance.

“That’s better. Anyway…uh, yes, I own a handgun, which you guys probably know already. I have a concealed carry permit filed with the town.”

What’s the chance they’ll stop the questions here?