- - End of All Things, The (9 page)

“Justin, did you ever hear anything from your sources about what
caused
the Infection?”

“No. As far as I know, no one ever knew. If the government knew anything about it, they weren’t talking. I suppose we were just . . . due.”

“What do you mean?”

“Humanity hasn’t had a widespread plague since 1918. Before that, before the CDC, we used to have them with relative regularity. The Black Death, yellow fever, smallpox, typhoid, cholera . . . Things you don’t see in developed nations any longer because of our hygiene, inoculations, and the swift response of the CDC and the WHO when outbreaks occurred. But this one was so insidious. The incubation period was so long . . . People infected hundreds of others before they even knew they were sick. This was no ordinary virus. The lethality rate alone tells me it wasn’t something natural.”

“What else could it be?” 

“Something weaponized.” Justin’s expression was grim. 

“Created in a lab? Someone made this evil thing
intentionally
?” Carly slumped in her seat, stunned and sickened someone could have done such a thing.

Justin hesitated when he saw her reaction, but he answered truthfully, and for that, she was grateful. “I think so, yes.”

“And what, it got loose or something? Someone spilled a test tube of it?”

Justin shook his head. “Paris, London, Beijing, New Delhi, Moscow, Osaka, São Paulo . . . My contacts reported almost simultaneous outbreaks. It was intentionally released in the most populous cities all over the world.”

“Terrorists?”

“Perhaps.”

“Are we immune?”

“It seems that way. You took care of your parents while they were sick. If you weren’t immune, you should have caught it for certain from sustained close contact. But even if we’re immune, we could be carriers.”

“Like Typhoid Mary?”

Justin nodded. “It’s possible. There’s no way for us to know for sure at this point.”

“Were you around any sick people?”

“I was camping when the Crisis hit. I stayed out in the woods until . . . until it was over, but if I wasn’t immune, I should have caught it as soon as I came into the city. There were still Infected wandering around. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the virus lingered in the environment, perhaps in the water supply or even in the air itself.”

“I thought viruses died fast if they didn’t have a host.”

Justin shrugged. “Some do. Others can survive outside a host for days, even weeks, in some cases. If they made a weaponized virus, they’d ensure it was able to survive for long periods outside the body.”

“Only two survivors out of over thirty thousand people in Juneau,” Carly mused. 

“There may have been others. We don’t know. They could have hidden from us. Or they could have died after the Crisis was over from accidents, suicide, or health issues. People with medical conditions like diabetes would be unable to get their medicine. Most modern people aren’t prepared to survive, and more will die when winter comes.”

Carly fell silent. If Justin hadn’t found her, she would have been one of them. She would still be sitting in her apartment, numb with shock and grief.

Justin chose not to dock at the pier where the ferry would have docked and Carly saw why as they passed. There were dozens of bodies on the dock, people who had undoubtedly been waiting for the ferry to evacuate, waiting for a boat that never came. The gulls on the bodies took flight as they sailed by, and Carly looked away. Birds, apparently, were immune to the Infection. Nature was not respectful of the dead. 

“I haven’t seen any dogs or cats,” Carly noted. “We used to have a couple of bears that came into town and ate from trash cans. I haven’t seen any, and you’d think without the Fish and Wildlife people chasing them off, they’d be scavenging in town.”

“From what I’ve seen, it looks like many mammals weren’t immune, though I’ve seen some rabbits and squirrels. Domestic animals seem to have fared the worst. I’d guess it was because of their close, continual contact with humans. In a way, I suppose it was a mercy since they wouldn’t have anyone to take care of them any longer.”

Carly thought of dogs and cats trapped inside their houses, of farm animals waiting in their pens and pastures for their owners to take care of them, and she had to agree. At least they didn’t have to endure a lingering death from starvation.

Justin docked the boat and Sam jumped out as soon as it came to a halt, as though he were grateful to be back on dry land. Justin lifted Carly out, and then she helped him get the bikes up to the dock. They had to unload the wagon again and then repack it once they had it on the dock. By the end of that process, it was late afternoon, and Justin suggested they stay in town and move on in the morning.

They found a little motel nearby and Justin came back from the office with two room keys. His eyes kept flicking around, watching their surroundings intently. She didn’t know what he was looking for, and that concerned her. Sam picked up on his tension and remained alert, his ears swiveling like little satellite dishes, listening for sounds that might indicate danger.

Their rooms were adjoining, something that made Carly feel relieved. Just a few days ago, she’d been terrified of the Biker Guy, and suddenly she was afraid to be without him. Justin carried in their bags while Carly scooped out a bowl of food for Sam and filled his dish with clean water. 

Carly went into the bathroom and tried the taps. She squealed with delight when water flowed from them and ran into Justin’s room to announce she was taking a shower.

“It’ll be cold,” he said, warning her.

“I don’t care. It’ll be such a relief to get all of this grime off me.” She’d felt gross for days, since the water in her apartment stopped working, even though she wiped herself down every evening. The shower was icy but felt wonderful, and Carly washed as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to use up all the water, not when Justin still had to shower. She dried off, picked up her clothes, and gagged. She knew they were clean, but they
reeked.
They smelled like death, and she couldn’t bring herself to put them on.

She wrapped herself in towels and went back into her room. “Justin?”

“Mm?” He poked his head through the adjoining door and did a double take to find Carly wearing only white towels.

“I can’t wear my clothes. They smell
awful.
”

He nodded. “You were used to the smell. You didn’t even notice it, but you were in a building with hundreds of dead people.”

“Ugh! I can’t . . .”

Justin considered for a moment. “Tell you what, why don’t you wash your things out in the bathtub, and I’ll go out to that store down the street and see if I can find anything clean for you to wear in the meantime. Okay?”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Carly chewed on her lower lip. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be left alone there.

“I won’t be long,” he said, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “If you get scared, all you have to do is shout. I should be able to hear you down the block.” He went into his room and fished around in his bags until he came up with a T-shirt and shorts for her to wear. A faint odor clung to them, but it was tolerable. 

“Give me all of your clothes,” Carly said.

Justin playfully grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and whipped it over his head. “Yes, ma’am!”

Carly swatted his shoulder. “Not the stuff you’re
wearing.
The stuff in your bags. It stinks a little, too.”

Justin put his T-shirt back on. “Carly, you don’t have to wash my clothes. I’ll do it myself when I get back.”

“I can at least start them soaking. I really don’t mind. Maybe some bleach . . .”

“No, don’t use that. We need it for purifying water. I’ll get you some vinegar while I’m out.”

“You’re putting
bleach
in our drinking water?”

“Just a little. A few drops per gallon. I’ll show you when I get back. Which reminds me, don’t drink from the taps. Use our bottled water. I’ll be right back. Put on the slide locks and don’t open the door for anyone.”

“I won’t.”

He laid her small gun on the night stand. “Be careful with this. It’s loaded and the safety is off. All you have to do is aim and shoot, okay? Don’t hesitate to use it if you have to.”

“Are we in danger?” The idea of being alone in the world was terrible, but so was the idea there might be dangerous people lurking around. Like many people, she lived in her own little bubble where crime was something that happened to others. With her dad downstairs and a police officer living down the hall, Carly had always felt safe. But currently there were no police officers, either to protect people or to arrest criminals. They were on their own.

Justin hesitated. “My spidey-sense is tingling. I think there’s someone here, watching us. Maybe they’re just as afraid as you were when you first saw me, but let’s be cautious.” He slung one of the rifles over his shoulder and wore it along with his pistol and knife.

“I’ve changed my mind. Don’t go out, Justin.”

“I’ll be fine, Carly. Don’t worry.” And with that, he gave her a swift hug and went out the door. Carly flipped the slide lock and engaged the deadbolt. She watched him through the window until he disappeared around a corner, then she sat down on the bed and opened her bag. She took out the
Lord of the Rings
DVD and traced her finger over the raised lettering on the cover.

She and her dad had watched it during that period when her mom seemed to have just a slight cold. Gloria had gone to bed, but Carly and her dad couldn’t sleep.

They had been watching the news all day. She remembered having the same feeling of shock and disbelief watching the Twin Towers fall when she was eleven. She’d been home with the flu that day and watched the whole thing live. This was so much worse, probably because the horror was sustained with new images every day, day after day. There was footage of hospitals so crowded the doctors had only a few inches of space to walk between the Infected—lying on cots, lying on blankets, and lying on the bare floor. There were piles of bodies outside, stacked like logs. Mass graves were dug by bulldozers. There were riots, looting, and cities ablaze with no one left to fight the fires. Roadblocks were put up to try to fight the spread of the disease, but people stubbornly streamed around them. There were not enough National Guard or regular troops left, not enough police. Not enough anything. 

Once upon a time, the government might have been able to control the flow of information, but today’s media was too widespread, too interactive for that. Thousands of people were filming the Crisis with cell phones, iPads, and cameras, uploading the video to the Internet, and sending it to news organizations. The Internet went down at one point, and people accused the government of sabotaging it, but tech buffs all over the country had an “Undernet” up and running within days. Pirate radio stations informed people how to use it.

Carl heaved himself off the sofa and went into the kitchen. He returned with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured an inch or so of the liquor into each and handed one to Carly. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and she’d certainly never drunk with her dad, but she took the glass from him and sipped from it until it was empty. Carl refilled it, along with his.

The television showed scenes of looting and senseless destruction. One man stood in the front window of an electronics store hurling televisions to the sidewalk out front, smashing them for the apparent fun of it. He was probably Infected, his mind burned away by the fever, but at the time Carly couldn’t understand what she was seeing. There was just a constant barrage of nightmarish images her mind tried to deny. Police officers beaten to death when they tried to hold the crowds back. Refugees streaming from cities, weaving between stalled and wrecked cars. From interviews they gave to reporters, many of the refugees had no idea where they were going. They were compelled by instinct to flee from the specter of Death. Some were following rumors there were places in other parts of the country where the Infection had not spread. 

Some communities attempted to isolate themselves. One mayor was lynched after he had tried to seal off his town to prevent the Infection from entering. He was killed by enraged townspeople who wanted to bring their families there, where it was “safe.” They didn’t understand or accept that bringing others in would destroy that safety.

“
Things fall apart
, Sugar Bear,” Carl said, and his voice held a hollow note she had never heard before. “
The center does not hold.”

He flipped the channel, and there was a preacher behind a pulpit, his face burning red and his eyes bleary with fever, raving that the president had released the virus to kill Christians. On the next channel, a talk show host was insisting the virus had been released by religious zealots trying to bring on Armageddon. An “analyst” on another channel declared it could only be the work of terrorists, and they needed to start bombing immediately before it was too late.

The president himself was on the next channel pleading for peace and order, and begging people to obey the quarantine orders. He swore the government and the CDC were doing all they could to stop the spread of the Infection and find a cure.

“He’s in the bunker,” Carl said.

“How can you tell? What bunker?”

“The curtain in the background, see how it’s folded at the edge there? The cinder block wall behind it? There’s a bunker in a secret location where the top government officials are supposed to be moved in case of emergencies just like this. We used to call it the ‘Bug-Out Bunker.’ ” Carl refilled their glasses again.

Carly’s hand shook so hard she sloshed some of the liquor out of the glass. She set it on the end table before she spilled it all and dropped her face into her hands. Her dad rubbed comforting circles on her back until she managed to get herself under control again.

“Hey, why don’t we watch a movie, Sugar Bear?”

“Okay.” Carly’s voice didn’t sound like her own. She liked the idea, liked the thought of being able to escape for just a little while.