Spore (26 page)

“I didn’t know,” Sean choked out.

“Now you do. The CDC is warning Ohio for next weekend. The Dakotas. Kansas. Essentially every community, every state between the Appalachians and Rockies will be infected. We will lose perhaps a third of the Midwest’s population. Millions will die, most didn’t have to. They had treatment options before your little blessing arrived. We are helpless to stop it, to treat it. And no one knows what’ll happen once it reaches the gulf. If sea water doesn’t kill this fungus, it’ll infect the entire planet in a matter of weeks. Nowhere will be safe.”

She poked him in the chest with a single finger. “You’ve been celebrating a potential global epidemic. The unwarranted deaths of perhaps billions of people. Why don’t you think about that the next time you have a little press conference. Show a little respect, okay? A little gravitas.”

She gave him one more withering look then stomped away to confer with a nurse before continuing to the next exam room, the next doomed patient.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Todd held the phone away from his head to lessen the pain of screams pounding against his ear. “Mom. Calm down. What’s wrong?”

“She’s gone! Oh, Todd! I was right there and she’s gone!”

Hailey?!
He took a staggering step, then another, then fell, hard, to his knees. “What do you mean, gone?”

His mother sobbed her answers in staggering bursts. “We were doing lawn work. There in the front yard. I was raking up grass clippings. The mail came and she wanted to fetch it from the mailbox. She scampered off to it. I had my back to the road and when I turned to see what mail had come, she was gone. Just gone.”

Mindy stood at the edge of the kitchen, watching him while terror and confusion struggled to control her face. She clutched a dishtowel and raised it to her mouth, when Todd barked, “Hailey can’t be GONE!!”

“I was right there! I swear!” his mother wailed. “Not ten feet away! I thought it was all right to let her fetch the mail. Oh, God, what have I done?”

He tottered to his feet, his head reeling. “And you didn’t hear anything? See anything?”

“Just the mailman pulling up. When I turned around, he was opening a mailbox just two doors down the street. It had only been a few moments.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” Todd balled his hands at his temples.
My gun’s upstairs. My badge.
He ran for the stairs, shaking the house as he thundered up. “Did you call the office? Local PD?”

“Yes. They’re on their way.”

He burst into his bedroom and yanked his badge and gun off the bedside table. “I’m on my way, too. Who’s the mailman?”

“Evan something. Our regular Saturday guy. He was just really late today.”

“I’ll get someone to stop him.”
How can I find her before he hurts her? Fuck!

“I don’t know how it happened. I was right there!”

It only takes a second. Fuck! Hailey! Daddy’s coming!
Todd thundered back down the stairs. “I’m on my way, Mom. Answer whatever questions they have. Maybe we can save her. Maybe there’s still time.”

Mindy stood near the door, lower lip quivering as he rushed down the stairs. “What can I do to help?”

Can’t leave her unguarded, can’t not look for Hailey. Fuck me and my fucking job!

“Get in the car.” He shoved past her and out the door.

She followed without comment and was in the passenger seat, reaching for the seatbelt, as he shot the SUV out of the driveway and screamed it down the road, sirens blaring.

Mindy pressed herself against the door not because of fear, but because she wanted to remain out of his way. Todd drove like a crazed beast, whipping past cars while yelling into his radio mic. She bit her lip when he told the dispatcher she could fuck herself, it was his daughter who was missing, all while taking a corner at more than forty miles per hour one handed.

They reached the opposite side of Boone in what felt like moments, not minutes, barreling into a neighborhood of two-story craftsman homes with compact, well maintained yards. Five police and sheriff vehicles blocked the road and two cops frisked a terrified mailman against his delivery truck.

Todd flipped the SUV into park and was out the door and across the yard before Mindy finished unbuckling her seatbelt.

She exited the SUV to see him push both local cops aside and flip the mailman around to face him. She heard him growl, saw him expand his already considerable bulk into a raging tower of fury.

“What the fuck did you see?” he snarled, bending to be nose to nose with the mailman. “Did you see her come for the mail? Did you speak to her at all?”

Mindy was stopped by a young deputy with his arms out to halt her. She stretched and craned her neck to see past him, unable to imagine what horror Todd was going through.

The poor mailman shook his head and she heard him blubber, “No. I didn’t talk to her. The little girl waved as I pulled up, and she ran to talk to Mrs. Anderson,” he said, pointing at Todd’s mother bawling on the stoop. “I put the mail in the box and moved on to the next house, then the next. I didn’t see anything else. We’re timed. There’s a schedule, and the mail was really late from Des Moines. I don’t have time to even look behind when I’m—“

“I do not give a flying fuck about your schedule or late mail,” Todd growled, shaking off the two cops who tried to drag him away. “Did you see any other vehicles? Any pedestrians who aren’t normal for this neighborhood?”

“Um. A couple of cars, but there’s always some different car somewhere. And folks walk dogs, push kids in strollers…” He ran a shaky hand over his head. “Crap. I don’t pay much attention.”

“I want full, complete descriptions of them. Now. Any people? Delivery trucks? Workmen?”

The mailman blinked, eyes widening. “There was a truck! Yes. Plumber, I think. Parked right there,” he said, pointing toward Todd’s SUV, sitting half on the road, half on the sidewalk in front of the neighbor’s house. “I had to drive around it and nearly got creamed by some kids in a Nissan with a blown muffler.”

Todd turned and barked at the deputy who blocked Mindy’s approach. “Gunders! Find out which neighbor called a plumber today. Now. Ask, too, about some kid with a loud Nissan.” He glanced at the mailman. “What color was the Nissan?”

“Black. Dented on the passenger side.”

“Get that, Gunders?”

The deputy nodded. “Yessir. I’m on it, sir.”

The deputy rushed to the neighbor’s house and Mindy approached Todd’s mother. Deb slumped on the front steps, bawling. Mindy sat beside her and whispered, “It’ll be all right. He’ll find her.”

“It’s my fault,” Deb whimpered, leaning against Mindy’s shoulder. “I should have gone with her, should have watched instead of raking.”

Mindy drew her arm around Deb’s plump shoulders and soothed her as best she could. The rake and leaf bag lay mid yard, a step or so to the right of the walkway leading from the public sidewalk to the house. They were, at most, fifteen feet from the mailbox.
A few steps. A scant few moments. So quick. So close. Whoever grabbed Hailey was waiting. Waiting for her.

Todd walked up to them, fury on his face but fear in his eyes. “Talk to me, Mom,” he whispered, kneeling before them.

Deb explained that she’d decided to mow because it finally was a sunny day, and how she made Hailey stay on the porch while she mowed. Hailey had held the bags while Deb filled them with clippings, like she always did. Then the mail came.

“I looked up when I heard that awful muffler. The Snyder kid, from a couple blocks down,” she said. “And I saw the mailman nearly hit him. Hailey did, too. He was coming to deliver our mail and she asked if she could go get it. I held her hand, just like you told me to, and even though it was just Evan like every Saturday, I waited for him to finish with our mail and pull away, then I let her go get it. I raked, just a couple of strokes. That’s all. Moments. And she was just gone.”

“Check the mailbox,” he said to the nearest deputy. The young man turned without comment. “Did you see a plumbing truck?” he asked his mother.

“No. No plumber. But there was a mechanic’s van. It had been there most of the day.”

“Mechanic?”

Deb nodded, sniffling, and pointed across the street. “Yeah. Two guys. I think. They were doing something at the Decker’s garage. Back and forth since this morning.”

“I’ll check,” a city cop said then jogged across the street.

Mindy met Todd’s terrified gaze. She’d seen no work van of any kind.

“Mail’s still here,” the deputy called out. He wore a glove on his right hand and closed the mailbox door again before taking a wide berth around the area.

Todd grasped his mother’s hands. “Mom, look at me.”

Deb took a shaky breath then complied, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He moistened his lips then asked, “Was the van there when you turned around and saw Hailey was gone?”

Deb’s eyes drifted closed and her lower lip turned in. She bit it and shook her head. “No. They’d pulled into the Rothburg’s driveway and were backing up to turn around.”

Todd stood and squinted at the road and driveway. Nodding, he pulled out his cell phone and punched a couple of numbers. “Brad? My daughter’s been snatched. Might be tire tracks in the neighbor’s driveway. Maybe trace near the mailbox. And track her cell. She knows to keep it in her pocket.”

Todd pulled away from the phone to tell everyone to cordon off the Rothburg’s driveway, all of the Decker’s yard, and everything in a wedge-shaped area between the leaf sack and the road. All unoccupied officers rushed to help.

Mindy marveled at his ability to command the men and to control his own certain rage and panic.
I’d be a whimpering basket case. Useless.

Another siren approached as Todd finished up with Brad. He pocketed the phone took a breath as he turned to his mother and Mindy. “Our best investigator is on the way. Just sit tight.”

He began pacing, hands clenching and unclenching. Mindy wished she could offer some comfort, but instead she cradled his bawling mother and watched as another sheriff’s car pulled up.

A middle-aged man got out and walked to them, his face stern. “Anderson!”

While the other deputies made themselves scarce, Todd watched the official approach. The worry on his face turned into harsh rigidity and defiance. “Yes, sir?”

“You are not on this case.”

“Sir, it’s my daughter. I’m not leaving.”

“You’ve been assigned to protective detail. I suggest you return to it, immediately, or face disciplinary action.”

“I haven’t left my detail. Sir.” Todd said, holding his ground. “And I will not desert my daughter. She’s all I have.”

“We’ll find her,” the older man said, grasping Todd’s upper arm. “I’ll take over until Jorst gets here, but you need to leave. Now. Your mind’s in the wrong place and we all know you can’t be impartial.”

Todd took a breath and began to speak, but the other man cut him off. “It’s not a suggestion. Back down, or hand over your badge and spend your evening sitting in a cell charged with interfering in an investigation.”

“We’ll find her,” one of the younger deputies said, his blue eyes earnest and sure.

Todd muttered a curse then stomped up the steps beside Mindy and thundered into the house. She turned, watching his furious retreat, and wished she could help.

“Go,” his mother said. “Help him.”

She pushed away from Mindy’s consoling embrace then faced the man who peered down at her. “Ask me whatever you need to, Sheriff. Put me on a lie detector. Get me hypnotized, torture me, I don’t care. I want my granddaughter back.”

“Take her to the police station for an official statement,” the sheriff said to the nearest deputy who helped Deb stand and walk to a cruiser. The sheriff turned to the other men and barked orders. Mindy, otherwise ignored, retreated into the house to find Todd.

There were no clocks in the Imaging Services waiting room and all of the magazines were three months old, but at least the TV was showing
Law and Order
reruns. Sean brought Mare another glass of water—they’d instructed her to drink at least a quart of fluid so her full bladder would push up whatever had grown inside her. He sat beside her and reached for her hand.

They’d left the ER a couple of hours before, at his best guess, and while they weren’t the only people waiting to be scanned, Mare was, by far, in the best shape. An older couple sat in the corner, the woman twitching and her eyes rolling back in her head. Across sat a young guy, maybe partway through college, whose skin had taken on a greenish cast as he daubed at the endless trickle of blood leaking from his nose. A small child lay across her mother’s lap, gasping for breath, and an obese, middle-aged man had leaned into a corner and fallen asleep, but his phlegmy snores had shorted out and stopped a good twenty minutes ago.

Sean tried not to look at the fly crawling in and out of the dead guy’s gaping mouth, or the resigned stares from the other patients and their families. He did his best to remain thankful that Mare looked stressed but otherwise fine in her ever-so-stylish double-layered hospital gown and soaking pad.

“Why are you here?” an older woman asked them. She, too, wore a hospital gown that she had to hold at her throat to avoid exposing herself. Her shoulder had grown to an enormous size, as if someone had shoved a cantaloupe beneath her skin, and she wore one gown under that arm, and another draped over. Sean had made a point not to glance her way for fear he’d get yelled at for glimpsing her boob.

“An ultrasound,” he said as other waiting patients turned their dying gazes his way.

“Problems with a pregnancy?” an older gentleman asked while his wife snored on his shoulder. She had a lumpy sprawl of crust that covered most of her face and obliterated one eye. When they’d arrived it had mainly been on her lower cheek and chin.

Sean squeezed Mare’s hand.
Pregnant. If only.
“No. Not pregnant. A rupture of some kind.”

The old fellow nodded with bleak understanding and everyone looked up as an exhausted imaging tech came in with a folder. “Rosemary Knudsen?”

“That’s us,” Sean said as he helped Mare stand. She hesitated, but took a deep breath and staggered to the technician. Sean grabbed her bloody sitting pad and folded it as he followed them both.

Once Mare was on the table, the tech squirted blue goop over the mass of scars on Mare’s lower belly, their presence a fading record of her childhood accident and life-changing surgery.

Sean bit his quivering lip to still it as he watched the tech glide her scanner over the familiar twists, puckers and lines.
Would Mare have chosen me if she’d been whole? Would she have gotten sick sooner? Not at all? How different would life had been with children? How different will it be without her?

The lines had woven a wall between them, a small wall to be sure, but a wall nonetheless. She had refused to marry him because of those lines, had cried over them, had considered herself diminished because of them. But they had faded. Soon they might be gone. Soon they might take her with them, forever.