Pandemic (22 page)

“That’s great.” If he could pretend everything was fine, I could, too.

“I would search for Cam and TK’s family but my phone’s about to die. That’s why I thought I’d walk over instead of calling.”

“Oh. I have an emergency hand crank radio that also charges cell phones. It’s one of the few useful things that the looters missed. You can borrow it if you want.”

He followed me into the house. I handed him the small box from its new hiding spot.

“I figured the looters wouldn’t look inside the microwave.” I gave him the list of TK’s phone numbers. “I tried calling, but I haven’t been able to reach anyone. Later we can ask Cam about her family. Maybe she knows some names. She has at least one uncle—that much I know.”

“I can use a reverse directory with TK’s phone numbers, things like that. What’s TK’s full name?”

“Tobias Kutchner Goodwin.”

“That’s some name.”

“I know.”

“You’ll have to show me how to use this,” he said, pointing at the charger.

I lit a few candles so we could see better in the dim kitchen. We hooked the charger up to his phone and took turns with the crank. The kitchen was quiet except for the cranking, which took longer than I expected. Our silence dragged. There were so many things to talk about, yet no easy way to start in on any of them.

“Do you think it’s a good sign that we haven’t gotten sick yet?” he asked after a while.

“Maybe. I did use some medicine. My dad had antiviral stuff, and after Megs . . . well, he told me to take it. I finished about half before the looters took the opened box. So that may have helped.”

“You’re lucky,” he said as his phone finished charging.

I shrugged, not feeling so fortunate. “My dad’s sick. I better check on him. I’ll use the phone upstairs.”

Jay shot me a concerned look, but I left the kitchen before he could say anything. I sat in Dad’s office with our old phone, the one with the cord that didn’t need electricity. I had the phone, a candle, and the hope that I’d make progress on where he was being treated. I tried Patient Services several times but kept getting a busy signal.

Next I tracked down a hospital near the hotel. There was no one available to answer my call there either. I thumped the desk in frustration, unsure about what to do next.

From downstairs, Jay let out a whoop.

“I think I found someone!”

“Really?” I blew out the candle and hurried to the kitchen.

“A woman in Connecticut. Do you want to call?”

“No, I’m too nervous.” I’d taken good care of TK, but what if they had been desperate to find him and were outraged that I took him from his home? Or what if they didn’t want him at all? “You call.”

“OK.” Someone answered and I hovered as he explained the situation. “Not me. My friend Lil has been caring for him 24/7. Here she is.”

I shook my head no, but he handed me the phone. “It’s TK’s grandmother,” he whispered.

“Is this Lil?” a woman asked.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Her voice cracked. “Thank you. We’ve lost so many people. To know that Tobias is thriving, it gives us hope. God bless you.”

My eyes started to tear. I turned from Jay so he wouldn’t see. “You’re welcome,” I said. “It’s nice to know he still has family around.”

Jay handed me a napkin.
So much for hiding my emotions.
I dabbed at my eyes.

“Can I come get him today?”

“Of course.” I hung up after we worked out the details.

“She’s coming to pick him up later,” I told Jay. “I should probably pack his things. I think I’ll actually miss the little guy.”

“You still have Cam.”

“True. Do you think she could stay with you when TK’s grandma arrives? I don’t want her to feel bad when his family comes.”

“Sure,” Jay said. “We can have Reggie drop her at my house. That’ll give me a chance to ask her about other relatives and search for her family, too.”

“I can’t believe you actually found TK’s grandmother. That’s the best thing that’s happened in days.”

We stood in the kitchen among the flickering candles, smiling at each other. I fought the urge to hug him. He stood close enough for me to reach out my arms to touch him. He moved closer, narrowing the space between us, and I wondered if he thought about holding me, too.

I shook it off. How could I be thinking about this in the middle of the awfulness? With Mr. B stopping by my house and my parents missing and all the deaths. I needed to get a grip.

And I needed to clear the air.

“About Ethan . . .” I started.

Jay’s posture stiffened.

“I didn’t want him to kiss me.”

“It’s not really any of my business. But why did you let him?”

“I couldn’t stop him. Everything happened so fast. I—”

With horror, I realized I could be describing Ethan or Mr. B. I clutched and unclutched my hands. They were raw from washing them so much lately.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” he said.

“I think he did it to try to make you angry. I mean, not that you care, but—”

“How did it make you feel?”

I thought about it. “Uncomfortable. And sad.”

He nodded. “Kayla said you were complicated.”

“Oh?” I fought back the urge to find her and claw her eyes out.

“She said I should stay away from you. Romantically.”

“That’s funny, because she pretty much told me the same thing about you.”

“Will you?” he asked. “Stay away?”

I looked at the floor. “It . . . it feels like a betrayal to Megs.”

“You must miss her.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“I did like chatting with her even if I thought it was you. But Megs and I never spoke in person, never really connected on that level.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Boxers,” he said.

I smiled. “Underwear preference aside, why were you using that chat site to meet someone? I mean, Megs has been around the same Portico guys since kindergarten, so going online gave her a chance to talk to new people. But you haven’t lived here that long. If you were looking to hook up—”

“I wasn’t looking for a quick hook up. You should know me better than that.”

“Should I?” I asked. “No deep dark secrets?”

“Only one,” he said.

C
HAPTER
23

In 1918, the Spanish Flu may have been transmitted from town to town by the mail carrier. Today, air travel accelerates the spread of highly contagious diseases. Any pathogen could travel to almost any country in two to three days. No place is safe.

—Blue Flu interview, renowned epidemiologist

J
ay went home without answering my questions, without explaining what his secret might be. He seemed sheepish after bringing it up, looking at the ground, changing the subject.

We’d spent so much time together lately and talked about so many random things that it seemed like I knew him even better than Ethan. But maybe our closeness was only an illusion. After all, I hadn’t been exactly forthcoming about Mr. B with him. I couldn’t demand that he open up and bare his soul to me. I decided to put it out of my mind.

Once Jay left, I organized TK’s food, clothes, and baby stuff, making a pile by the front door. As we planned, Reggie dropped Cam off at Jay’s, then brought TK to me.

“Thanks for all your help,” I said. “Chauffeuring, babysitting, dealing with Mrs. Templeton, all of it.”

“No problem,” Reggie said. “Mrs. Templeton’s like a baked potato. Crispy on the outside, but mushy in the middle.”

I laughed. “Tell her I said thanks, too. I’ll probably keep Cam with me for the next few days. It’ll be lonely once TK’s gone.”

Reggie left quickly, so I could have a few moments with TK. His grandmother arrived too soon. She was a slightly hunched, thin woman, but she seemed healthy. She held TK close as we talked about the baby’s family and I explained how I found him. Then we moved on to more pleasant topics, like how well he was doing. Soon it was time to say good-bye.

I tearfully loaded the car with his baby gear. Giving TK one last kiss, I handed him over. His grandma took my information and promised to stay in touch.

“Thank you, Lil. For everything.” She gave me a cheerful wave good-bye.

After TK was gone, the afternoon had an unsettled air about it, like I’d forgotten something important. Maybe it was the lack of electricity or the loss of my routine. In my old life, I would have been studying. Maybe. Or I might have been watching TV or texting Megs. Now I needed to track down my parents. My texts still went unanswered.

I couldn’t exactly call the airport looking for Mom, so I decided to focus on Dad. Holed up in the office, I called Patient Services again. The line was still busy.

Next, I used my cell phone to find the number for the Delaware police department near where Dad had been staying. I explained the situation to the officer who answered.

“You need to call Patient Services.”

I sighed. “I tried that a bunch of times and haven’t been able to get through. Can I file a missing person report?”

“He was part of the quarantine.” His voice sounded doubtful. “So he’s not really missing.”

“I haven’t heard from him in twenty-four hours. Doesn’t that count?”

“With spotty phone service, that’s not unusual. He might be hard to track down. Any living quarantine patients were divided between two different hospitals and those hospitals are using additional overflow areas.”

“Please,” I said. “Can you tell me the hospital names and how to reach the overflow areas?”

“If Patient Services can confirm he’s alive, call me back. But you need the confirmation first.”

“Thank you.”

It took eighteen more tries, but I finally got through.

“I’m trying to find information about my father, Keith Snyder. He was part of the Salina Hotel quarantine, but I don’t know where he is now.”

“Spell the name,” the woman said in a weary voice.

As I spelled it, I heard the click-clack of typing.

“How old are you, honey?”

“Sixteen,” I said.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t give any information out to a minor.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Don’t hang up! My mom was resting, but I’ll wake her.”

I partially covered the phone.

“Mom, I know you don’t feel well, but can you talk to this lady?” I said to the empty room, feeling ridiculous but desperate. “It’s about Dad.”

Then I put my Mom-self on the phone and tried to make my voice different.

“Hello? Do you have information about my husband, Keith Snyder?”

“Can you confirm the spelling of the name?”

“It’s K-E-I-T-H S-N-Y-D-E-R.”

“Middle name?”

“Frederick.”

Silence. A small cough. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to give you this news over the phone. Keith Frederick Snyder is dead.”

“No!” I cried.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “We can mail a death certificate to the address on his driver’s license. You’ll need it for insurance purposes.”

“And his body?” I whispered.

“Everyone from the quarantine was cremated. A mandatory safety precaution. You can retrieve his ashes and personal belongings after processing in—” I heard her flipping through some papers—“five more days.”

I held it together long enough to carefully write down the address and other information she gave me. But when I hung up, I couldn’t contain my sobs any longer. Megs had lost her dad. Now I had lost mine. I rested my head on his desk, not even bothering to cradle it in my hands.

Grief overwhelmed me. If Megs’s death was like losing part of myself, with news of Dad’s death the very ground beneath me vanished. Life seemed suddenly impossible without him.

How could it be that he’d never hug me again, never share our secret eye roll over Mom’s cooking, never give me advice I didn’t want to hear? Dad planned to take me for my road test, to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. He needed to explain infectious diseases and other scary things in his clear, factual manner.

I ached for his physical presence, his sturdiness, his inner calm. My world was disintegrating bit by bit, with each person I loved being taken from me. Heaviness settled in my chest, as if boulders piled on top of my center. No matter how I shifted, the weight remained.

I stayed in his office, hoping it was all a big mistake, praying for a miracle. If only Mom was home.

And what if she was gone, too? I’d be totally alone—an orphan like Cam.

She was still at Jay’s, probably missing me. I blew my nose, washed my face, and tried to summon strength from the little actions before leaving to get her.

Poor Cam. The only person she had right now was me, which wasn’t much. I promised myself then and there that I would take care of her. She had no one. And Dad would want me to. It would have made him proud.

I trudged to Jay’s under a somber sky. Animals had knocked over several garbage cans, chewing through the bags and leaving a trail of trash in the street. The air smelled rotten.

An animal squeaked nearby. Rats could carry parasites, plague, and other diseases. Dad would be able to name them all. I wiped at my eyes as I kept going.

When I arrived at Jay’s house, no one answered my knock. I let myself in, greeted by silence. “Jay?”

“In here,” he said.

His tone sounded odd. It sounded afraid.

Trembling, I moved as if I were treading water with heavy boots on. I followed his voice, slogging my way toward the bathroom.

Jay kneeled over two small bodies in the bathroom as if he were praying. They both lay on towels, pale and sweating.

Ty and Cam had the flu.

C
HAPTER
24

How the **** can we fix the ****ing power outages if everyone’s too sick to show up for work? What the **** do I look like, a ****ing magician?”

—Blue Flu interview, senior manager, Jersey United Power

N
o
.

I stared in shock at Ty and Cam, lying on the bathroom floor. First Megs, then Dad. What if Ty and Cam didn’t make it? I couldn’t take any more death. I just couldn’t.

Jay moved to make room for me, kneeling next to the kids with his head in his hands.