Night of the Purple Moon (12 page)

“Hey, wait up,” she called and ran after him.

The day was perfect in every way, Jordan thought. Perfect for sailing, a steady, gentle breeze blew from the southwest and seas were calm. The afternoon sun burned brightly in the clear afternoon sky and warmed the air. The day was also perfect because of who was with him.

He pulled in the mainsheet, the rope controlling the sail, and heeled the skiff high on its port side. Emily shrieked. He liked to make her shriek. “Never waste wind!” he yelled.

A quarter mile off shore, they had a good view of the mansion. Laundry hung on lines, and hundreds of rain buckets sat empty on the lawn. Cars filled the driveway and lined the road. Smoke leeched out of the mackerel smoke house. The American flag fluttered in the breeze. It looked like the circus had come to town.

Jordan loved the occasional splatters of spray shooting up from the bow. The sprinkles kept them cool and added to the thrill of sailing a small skiff. His grandfather had built the boat from a kit. Grandpa had told Jordan and Abby that someday it would be theirs, but Abby never seemed to care that Jordan considered the boat his own.

Strands of Emily’s long brown hair stuck to her face, and Jordan thought how incredibly pretty she was and how lucky he was to have her as a friend.

They were both lucky for another reason. Puberty for them was a long way off. For the older kids, Abby included, the clock was ticking. Before their bodies started producing hormones the space germs would attack, Jordan hoped the scientists would hurry up and find an antibiotic that defeated the germs. He squinted at the sun to clear his mind. Now wasn’t the time for dark thoughts.

“What if we tip over?” Emily cried, smiling.

Jordan licked his lips, tasting salt. “What if we do?” He yanked the mainsheet again. The boat danced on the edge of a knife, a split second from capsizing. Emily scrambled up the starboard side.

If they did capsize, Emily would bob like a cork in her lifejacket. But Jordan would never allow them to capsize.

He raised the boat even higher until water sloshed over the gunwale. “Can you swim?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“No!”

“Shouldn’t you learn?”

“In forty-degree water? No way!”

“It’s more like sixty degrees,” he said and eased the boat down and then tacked.

He caught Emily looking at him. She blushed and held his gaze and his heart did a flip. She dipped her hand in the water and a wake blossomed from her slender fingers.

“Are you ready to sail?” he asked.

Emily made a muscle and pointed to the defined bicep. “Do I look ready?”

He could not deny how strong she had grown as a result of her work on the farm.

She switched position and sat next to him, her leg pressing against his.

Emily sailed less aggressively, and without the splatter of spray, her hair dried and blew back.

Jordan started to say what he had wanted to say for the past several days but he clenched his teeth.
No, not yet…
His pulse pounded in his head.
Yes, now.
“Emily…” His throat pinched and his head pounded. The sun seemed to grow bigger. “I really like you a lot.”

She smiled shyly and moved closer, her face inches from his. Some strands of her hair actually touched his nose and tickled. All of the problems in the world disappeared. He became aware of water lapping against the hull and the gentle popping of the line against the mast.

“I like you, too,” she said and brought her lips to his.

The plan had gone perfectly and they were ready to leave. Abby glanced in the rearview mirror from behind the wheel of the police cruiser parked in the mansion driveway. Eddie and KK sat in the back seat, holding hands. Toucan and Danny sat in their laps, also holding hands. Barry sat beside Abby in the passenger seat, not holding anyone’s hand.

A lot could still go wrong, but after two weeks of planning and being secretive the hard part was over: the unsuspecting passengers were in the car and their presents hidden in the trunk. To capture the event, Abby had made sure to bring a digital camera.

There were four birthdays this month: Eddie and KK were turning thirteen, Toucan would be three years old, and Barry would be ten. If Abby could maintain the ruse for another ten minutes, all four kids were about to get the surprise of their lives.

Not everyone favored celebrating birthdays. The thought of approaching puberty consumed Derek. He’d spend hours in front of the mirror, inspecting his wispy mustache. Abby had overheard him discussing which boys had pubic hair. According to Derek, the growth of pubic hair was a sure sign the space germs were about to attack. “Birthdays are reminders we’re all getting older,” he had said. “That’s the last thing we want to be reminded about.”

“It’s important to have fun,” Abby had argued. “Survival is more than making sure we have enough food and water.” Thankfully the majority had sided with her.

Abby asked her passengers if they were ready to go to the hardware store. Earlier she had told them that she needed help carrying rolls of chicken wire.

“Let’s do it,” Eddie said. “The sooner we go, the sooner we get back.”

Barry looked at her with pleading eyes. “Can I push the button?”

Abby sighed. “Once.”

He pushed the button. The police siren wailed.

“I want to do it,” Danny said.

“Toucan do it.”

What had she started? “Later!” Abby told them. “We have to go.”

She pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the harbor on Wildwood. Out to sea, a large thunderhead boiled high into the pale yellow evening sky, warning that a squall was about to break. She turned up the radio volume.

“Wash your hands with hot water and soap,” the robotic voice said, delivering another meaningless bulletin.

Any day now—any hour—the kids expected the CDC to report real news: the results of the human trials. For more than a month the scientists had been testing the latest antibiotic on people. But they had not yet reported that it worked.

When the cruiser entered the harbor area, Barry spotted them first. “Look, balloons!” he shouted. The four colorful bunches of balloons tied to parking meters tugged against their strings in the stiffening breeze.

Abby tried to sound surprised. “Balloons? Why would anyone put balloons near the bowling alley?”

A crowd had gathered in front of Castine Lanes— the entire population of the island with the exception of Toby, Chad, and Glen. When the kids scrambled out of the cruiser, shouts of “Happy birthday!” greeted them.

The crowd parted like a curtain to reveal Kevin standing beside a Dairy Queen ice cream machine plugged into a humming generator.

A lot of preparation had gone into this, the biggest surprise of the day. Emily and Tim had secretly spirited fresh milk from the barn. Abby and Emily had found a recipe for ice cream at the library and mixed the right amounts of sugar, salt, and milk. Kevin had figured out how to power and operate the soft-serve machine.

He dramatically held up an empty sugar cone to KK and said, “Would you like vanilla?”

She batted her eyes, playing along. “What else do you have?”

“We also have vanilla,” he said.

KK pretended to ponder the choice. “Let’s see… vanilla or vanilla? I’d love vanilla, please.”

Kevin placed the cone beneath the nozzle and lifted the handle. A whirring sound accompanied a thick squiggle of lavender-colored ice cream magically filling the cone. Kevin expertly swirled the ice cream to a point and presented the cone to KK.

She took a lick and flashed a big grin. “Delicious!”

Kevin made cones for everyone. The birthday kids got seconds.

Everyone moved inside. Forty-two candles, all that Colby permitted, illuminated the hot, stuffy, musty-smelling bowling alley. Lit candles were also stuck in the frosting of the four birthday cakes perched on the counter where Abby had once rented bowling shoes.

Abby snapped photos, not wanting to miss a single smile. Even Derek was having fun. Later, she would plug Kevin’s computer and printer into the generator and print the pictures to post on a wall back at the mansion.

“Hurry up, blow out the candles,” Colby insisted. He hated wasting precious resources.

“Make a wish!” Emily shouted.

Toucan stood before her three-candle cake with bright eyes. “Toucan wish—”

Abby put a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Touk, don’t say it out loud.”

Toucan filled her lungs and blew out the flames on her first try. Cheers and clapping followed.

After three more secret wishes, everyone ate cake and then the birthday kids unwrapped their presents. KK received perfume and nail polish. Eddie got a baseball glove. Barry tried on his policeman’s hat. Even though it covered his eyes, Abby had never seen him so happy.

Toucan opened her present last. Jordan had carved a toy bird from driftwood and Abby had painted it bright colors.

“Peacock!” she squealed.

“No, Touk,” Jordan said. “It’s a toucan.”

“Peacock!” their sister insisted.

He shrugged and said with a smile, “Have fun with peacock.”

“Let’s bowl!” Colby shouted.

Toucan positioned herself in the middle of the lane, halfway to the pins, and pushed the ball. It seemed to take forever before one pin toppled over. She jumped up and down as if she had bowled a strike.

Thunder rumbled from the next lane with Jordan and Eddie heaving the balls as hard as they could. Ben and Gabby set up the pins up and rolled the balls back.

KK gave Abby a big hug. “Thank you for everything!” she said.

Abby’s heart stopped. KK was burning up with fever. “Happy birthday,” she said as she drew away, trying to contain the panic in her voice.

Abby relaxed when she watched KK eat a second helping of cake, thinking that if she were sick from space germs, she wouldn’t have an appetite. She also considered KK’s age. Three girls, herself included, were older than KK. They would all reach puberty before KK.

After the party ended and Abby was driving the birthday kids home, she repeatedly sneaked peeks in the rearview mirror. KK appeared flushed but otherwise healthy.

Because the two wild ones, Toucan and Danny, were asleep, Abby was able to keep the radio volume low and still hear it. The CDC robot continued to drone on about the importance of good hygiene.

Jagged lightning ripped the sky above them, and the sharp crack of thunder thumped the cruiser.

“I want chocolate ice cream next time,” Barry said, proudly wearing his new policeman’s hat.

“You’ll have to get Henrietta and Matilda to make chocolate milk,” Eddie said.

“Can we do that?” Barry asked, wide eyed.

Eddie grinned. “Sure, just feed them candy bars.”

“Cows eat candy bars?” Barry cried.

At that moment the CDC issued a new bulletin, the one every survivor on Castine Island had been waiting for: the results of the human trials.

Abby stopped at the side of the road and turned up the volume. Others pulled to the side of the road behind her. She wished Kevin were here beside her, but he was riding with Emily and Jordan in the Volkswagen.

The robot announced where the trials had been conducted (France, Germany, Russia, the United Kingdom, and the United States) and how many test subjects participated (twenty-one adults and seven teens).

Abby wanted to scream, “Just tell us if it worked!” She bit her tongue, instead.

“Results indicate that all but the 20-milligram dosages were successful in destroying the pathogen,” the robot finally said. “Furthermore, protection was provided by a single dosage.”

A car horn beeped several times. Abby recognized the VW horn. Kevin had beeped, which meant the news was very good.

“Turn on the siren,” Barry pleaded.

Abby held up her hand to shush him. “Wait, there’s more.”

“Production and distribution plans are now being developed,” the robot continued. “We estimate the antibiotic will be available in ten to fifteen months.”

KK’s piercing screech sent chills down Abby’s back and started Danny howling and Toucan crying.

As Eddie hugged KK, trying to comfort her, the robot babbled on about the test subjects, but Abby was no longer listening. It would take the scientists a year or longer to distribute the antibiotic.

A year from now Abby would be fourteen and a half. Colby would be fifteen, going on sixteen. Of the older kids on the island, who would even live to celebrate their next birthday?

From the frightened sobs behind her, Abby sadly knew at least one person who wouldn’t.

KK remained in bed, her fever spiking to reach one hundred and four degrees. She moaned and cried out in discomfort as waves of cramps rippled throughout her body. Chills followed sweats followed chills and within days she became too exhausted to lift her head off the pillow.

Eddie and Cat were her constant companions. Cat curled up at the foot of the bed, licking and cleaning her fur. Eddie gently held KK’s hand and refreshed the wet cold cloth on her forehead.

Nobody believed that space germs were the cause of KK’s illness. It was the flu, many said, a bad cold; anyway, KK was too young, exactly thirteen years old. KK was a year or more away from puberty, they concluded.

Then Abby made a shocking discovery. She found tampons hidden in KK’s drawer. KK tearfully admitted her period had started three months earlier. “I was too afraid to tell anyone,” she said. “Not even Eddie knew.”

Frightened kids started reporting their own fatigue and stomach aches and fevers and kept the thermometers in constant rotation. But their symptoms were imaginary, manufactured in their heads.

Zoe’s symptoms were real. Pale and stricken, she stopped eating entirely.

The house felt flooded with dread and gloom and everyone was on edge. One night the chilling scream of a boy awakened Abby. She ran down the hall to find Barry sitting up in bed with tears streaming down his face. She felt his forehead. It was piping hot.

Had Barry entered puberty? No, that was impossible, she told herself. He was only ten years old. Abby then wondered if the space germs had mutated. The germs were now attacking hormones other than testosterone and estrogen. That meant that everyone, from the youngest to the oldest, was at risk.