“What?” she snapped.
“I’ll take care of your brother by myself, okay? I think you should go sit down.”
Kala shook her head and pinched her mouth shut. Tears leapt from her eyes and she was terrified that she would begin bawling and not be able to stop. Adrian pulled her in to a strong embrace. For a moment, she let go and melted into his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt instantly. Then she pushed him away. If she collapsed now, she could never be strong again, of that she was sure.
“Please,” she said, “be gentle with him.”
Adrian nodded. A few minutes later he came up the stairs carrying another heavy black plastic bundle, only this one he carried like a baby in his arms. Kala watched him from the hallway as he went into the garage.
“Kala?” Abbie whispered behind her.
Kala turned to her. Her face was dark red, her eyes leaking a stream of tears. Her mouth was closed tight, and though her eyes leaked, they were fierce. The face frightened Abbie a little, but she said nothing. On the television, a breaking news banner suddenly flashed and the screen flipped over to a camera angle that was pointing at the front of the governor’s mansion.
“Great,” Kala said, “maybe there’s an emergency plan.”
The familiar face and form of Florida’s governor came in from off camera. He stepped up to the podium that had been erected in front of the Governor’s Mansion.
“What the hell is he doing? We didn’t discuss setting up a press conference yet.” Marlon frowned at the screen where the governor was standing. He looked tired and haggard on the high definition display. His cheeks were pale grey and his eyes were red and rimmed with dark circles. The man looked like he’d been through the spin cycle on a washing machine. He held a hand up to the camera and then began to speak.
“My dear friends,” he began. His voice sounded as tired as he looked, not the enthusiastic voice the state was used to. He sounded broken. “Due to great personal tragedy that I have endured in the last twenty-four hours, I can no longer adequately serve as your governor.”
Marlon stared blankly at the screen. “Well, shit.”
There were several reporters trying to ask the governor questions, but the man brushed them off with a sweep of his hand.
“I must be alone with my grief now, a grief many of you share with me, I know. The events of this past day have been,” he paused looking for a word, “well, horrific and heartbreaking. Before I go, as a citizen of this state, I have to tell you something important. The FBI and the CDC have been working here in Florida, in secret.”
“Oh, no.”
“What is he-”
“They informed me several hours ago that they anticipate this outbreak to spread, and to escalate so much that it could reach epidemic proportions. A lot more people are going to die. You already saw that air traffic is being diverted from the area. But basically, they don’t have any idea how to stop this disease.”
“Son of a-!”
“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, I’m going to get out, and I urge all of you to do the same. Get out of Florida while you can, while you still have your lives. That is all,” the governor said. “Thank you and good luck.”
“Marlon,” Ormiston said. “Call your boss. Florida has to be sealed off, now. It has to be quarantined.”
Marlon nodded, flipped out his phone, and hit the numbers.
“Sir, the idiot governor just told the entire state to evacuate. I don’t know. Yes, that’s right. We have to shut it down, now. We’ll need the National Guard, and any regular army they can send as well, all in full biohazard gear. Right, we cannot let anyone out of the state. Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.”
Ormiston turned to the room and addressed the people waiting for him.
“We are going to shut this state down. The anti-parasitic medication is being airdropped in to us, however, as you all know, we don’t know how effective it will be. We also don’t know how long it will take these latent parasites inside us to turn active. In the meantime, we will soldier on, we will not panic, and we will fight against this epidemic with all of our collective knowledge. It is time to do damage control.”
There were some murmurs.
“I don’t know how many of us will survive, but our actions now will determine if this epidemic will claim five hundred lives or fifty million. Do you understand?”
Heads nodded. Marlon stood still.
“All of your years of training, all of your internships and fellowships, all of your years of wanting to make a difference in the world - it comes down to today. We need a plan. I want everyone’s ideas, every thought, and any epiphanies. This is it people. This is the day that will change the world forever.”
The murmurs turned to solemn nodding.
A black man named Ivory (the irony of which was not lost on him, or his parents) from Great Britain spoke up. “I will capture mosquitoes. We’ll have to isolate the species that is carrying the disease and get a positive ID on it. There are more than forty species of mosquitos here, some travel only a few dozen yards from their hatching spot, others much farther. That should help give us a radius of the vector.”
“Good, good. Thank you, Ivory, that’s excellent. Everyone else, do everything you can. Tomorrow is too late.” Ormiston’s phone rang. He listened for one minute then hung up. “Our live John Doe just expired.”
More murmurs.
“He was captured yesterday afternoon. We know that he was bitten by a spider that morning.” Ormiston glanced down at his watch. “That’s about twenty-four hours.”
“What killed him?” Marlon’s cold voice spoke up.
“Multiple organ failures. The biological machinery that kept him alive, just stopped working. Therefore, that gives us some information. The active parasite kills a human in twenty-four hours. That’s twenty-four hours they can be attacking other humans, biting other humans, getting bit by more mosquitos. Not to mention all of us with the latent infections that have not turned violent yet. God knows how many mosquitoes are biting us and spreading this thing further.”
“That’s depressing,” someone said.
Ormiston nodded, then shook his head. “There’s no time to be depressed.”
Marlon asked, “What can I do?”
“The rats are going to try to abandon ship, Marlon, but we cannot let this escape Florida, no matter what.”
“What is the area of infection?”
“We don’t know that yet, we’ll know more when we find out about the mosquitoes carrying it. For now, drastic measures need to be taken. No one can be allowed to leave. Do you understand?” Ormiston fixed him with a hard stare.
“Whatever it takes?”
“We will do what we can to help the people here, Marlon, but we have to think of the greater good. There are three hundred million people in this country, including your wife and your baby. Yes, whatever it takes.”
Marlon sighed.
“We need a press conference; use the emergency broadcast system. We have to tell people not to attempt to leave the state. We need to inform everyone that mosquitos are carrying this disease. People need to wear Deet-based insect repellent at all times, and if they can, stay inside, away from the crazies and away from the insects. Tell them not to go to work, and not to leave their houses!”
“There will be panic.”
“There will be. But this is the best we can do at this time to save lives,” Ormiston said. In his head, he was traveling back to Africa, to uneven dirt roads and a small, understaffed clinic that was packed with little children. They were all dying. He could not help them; he could not help anyone. “God help us all.”
Chapter 27
The governor’s statements baffled Kala.
“That’s complete nonsense!” she spat at the tele
vision. “He’ll spread this thing all over the country, maybe the world!”
Nevertheless, in a formal vote held in the living room minutes before, Kala had lost to Adrian and Abigail. Now she would have to go along with them and their ridiculous idea to try to evacuate. This is so stupid, she thought as she stomped down to her bedroom alone.
Kala stripped out of her clothes, pulled on a black sports bra, and matching cotton panties. She put her hands on her hips and leaned back, feeling the satisfying crackle as her back popped.
She surveyed the guns on the floor in front of her, careful to avert her eyes from the bed, the last place she had seen Lukie. Kala was thinking about how best to distribute the firearms, when a soft sound from her doorway caused her to turn. Adrian stood just outside her doorframe, staring at her. She turned toward him, her eyes locked on his, her chin raised high. He looked down at the guns and then up at her.
Kala kept her bare shoulders square as he came into the room. She wanted to show him that she was adult enough to tolerate his intrusion, even in her state of partial undress. Her nerves sent prickles up her back when he neared, but she did not drop her gaze, not even when he stopped only inches away. She could feel the warmth from his breath on her ear. She found her chest starting to heave involuntarily, and her heart started to beat rapidly. Then he leaned down.
His smooth brown face brushed against hers, then his lips touched hers, lightly. Tingles went rippling through her, excitement, and a girlish giggle sounded in her head. He kissed her again, this time letting his tongue touch hers and her hips drew close and bumped into him. She was feeling hot now, for him, and was sure that he felt the same way. Then she pulled back from him and exhaled a long breath. His brown eyes, like melted chocolate, watched her closely.
“Get out of my room,” she breathed. “Take the black twelve-gauge shotgun upstairs with you. Go.”
Adrian snorted in amusement, but he did as he was told and scooped the black pump action shotgun from the floor.
So, at least he knows his guns, Kala thought. She bit her bottom lip until it hurt, trying to free it from the sweetness he left there. She placed her hands on her midsection and took a deep breath, mastering the desire that had risen up inside her. She tucked it away. Perhaps there would be time later … if they survived.
Kala pulled on a pair of boot-cut jeans that were comfortable and that Abbie said made her butt look amazing. Over the sports bra went a tight black tank top. She clipped the black textile holster with her M & P pistol in it, into the back of her jeans, against the small of her back. She located her father’s single shoulder holster and slipped it on. Into the holster, she snugged the big silver revolver. She snapped up the AR-15 in 300 blackout and slung it over her shoulder using its strap. She twisted this way and that. It would be a heavy load, but she could manage it. She stuffed all of their necessary ammunition into a backpack and grabbed the other AR for Abbie.
She may not agree with the decision to leave the safety of her home, but if she was going to, she would make damn sure she was well-armed. Kala went upstairs after trying and failing not to look at the bloodstain in the hallway, the one where her father had been. The father she had killed this morning.
“Okay, we ready?” she asked.
Abbie was standing in the living room. She wore a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt. Kala saw that she had applied a fresh bandage to her leg.
“How’s your leg?”
Abbie shrugged weakly, “It hurts, but it doesn’t look too swollen. I put some Neosporin on it.”
Kala said nothing but nodded.
“Is that for me?” Abbie asked, gesturing to the AR-15 Kala was holding.
“Yes,” Kala responded, and held the gun up a little. Abbie walked over to retrieve it and Kala saw, to her dismay, that she was limping badly.
“I’m fine, really,” Abbie said sharply, noticing Kala’s look.
“Okay,” she said, and slapped the big black rifle into Abbie’s hand. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen.”
“Just to reemphasize, I don’t think we should be leaving the house,” Kala said stubbornly as they stood next to the door, double-checking their gear. Though her voice was hard, her face showed defeat. The other two wanted to follow the governor out of Florida, away from the epidemic. That makes sense, she thought. Except it didn’t.
Humans have always only thought about themselves. About their happiness, their future, and their survival. If we escape the area, we could spread this disease all over the country, or the world. She understood why that was hard to accept, that the right thing to do was to stay here and possibly suffer a grim fate rather than, conceivably, infect millions more. Sometimes, doing the right thing isn’t easy.
“All right, I think we are good,” Adrian said.
He zipped up the backpack Kala had given him. Adrian carried the 12-gauge shotgun and the Jansport backpack Kala had worn to school last year. It was jammed full of ammunition as well as some water bottles. Kala wore her brother’s backpack. It was smaller, but she crammed it full of granola bars, fruit snacks, and two more 16 ounce water bottles. It was hot out there, and if they had to leave the car they would need water as much as they would need ammunition.
When they opened the door, they could hear screaming in the distance, and gunfire. The gunfire seemed to be coming from all directions.
“My God,” Abbie whispered.
Adrian put an arm around her shoulders briefly and said, “It’s going to be all right. We’ll find your parents.”
Abbie nodded, placated by his kind words. Kala heard them but said nothing, only observed.
“A lot more must have turned,” Kala said as they walked to the garage, around the corner of which Adrian’s car was smashed. “I don’t hear any sirens, though.”
“Maybe they just aren’t using them,” Abbie suggested. Kala noted her limp and again frowned.
“Maybe there are no cops left,” Adrian said. He shrugged his shoulders when he said it, as if it didn’t concern him one way or the other.
“There has to be police out there,” Kala argued, “there are thousands of police in Dade County alone, and I’m sure they would have called for help from neighboring cities.” She tried to sound hopeful, but as they entered the garage and peered in at the station wagon her mother would never drive again, she thought, unless they’ve all packed up and run. Unless they’re leaving us here to die. She didn’t say that out loud, but the more Kala thought about it, the more dark clouds gathered in her mind.
Kala watched Adrian cautiously help Abbie into the front passenger seat of the car. He gently lifted her leg into the foot-well, secured her seat belt, and gave her a sweet smile as he closed the door for her. Kala frowned slightly at this, though she did not know why. He was being very kind, and might be a valuable asset if they had to defend themselves. Maybe. Kala walked around behind the car and Adrian walked around the front. Adrian was reaching for the driver’s door handle.
“Oh-uh, did you want to, uh, drive?” he asked awkwardly. “Can you drive?”
“I can. I’m sixteen. But you can drive if you want to. You probably know these streets better than I do.”
Adrian smiled his handsome smile then nodded his assent as they climbed in, throwing the heavily laden backpacks into the backseat with Kala. Adrian had pulled up the overhead door when they first entered the garage, and now he eased the station wagon out carefully, in order to avoid his own wrecked car in the driveway. He could not avoid the body of Mr. Simons, however, and the tires made a disturbing crunch as they rolled over his body.
“Okay,” Adrian said as they pulled out onto the street. “Here we go.” He glanced over at Abbie.
“First to the airport,” she said, “to try to get to my parents.”
“We try to get a flight out of here.”
“A
nd if not?” Kala said.
Abbie rolled her eyes at her. “By then we’ll be with my parents and they’ll know what to do. We’ll drive out of Florida if we have to.”
Kala sighed loudly. She didn’t like it that these two weren’t listening to her when she clearly knew what she was talking about.
“It will be fine, Kala, you’ll see.”
“I hope so, Abs.”
“Are you scared?” Adrian asked.
“A little,” she answered honestly. I’m worried no one will be left alive when we get there.
Adrian hit the gas and they left Kala’s neighborhood for good. He wound though the blocks of residential streets quickly, and the girls tried to ignore the visible signs of carnage all around them. Bodies were lying on front lawns, or out in driveways, almost to their cars before they were gruesomely attacked. One small ranch had a large picture window in front through which a dead body hung. It was suspended by the jagged glass, the last of its life having run down in red goopy streams minutes or hours before.
Kala thought she saw movement several times, inside windows or between houses, people hiding. Maybe they were infected; maybe they were waiting to be saved. She would never know.
Adrian pulled onto another street then slammed on the brakes. The car skidded to a stop, throwing Kala hard into the back of the driver’s seat.
“Jesus, God!” she cursed as she untangled her arms from her legs. Abbie let out a wounded yelp as she was jerked hard against her seatbelt. Then Kala saw what had stopped Adrian. A big black man was running toward the car, almost upon it really. His eyes were red with madness. His fists, like all the others, were red with the blood of his victims. He was wearing dark blue boxer shorts and a tank top that had once been white but was now a grisly bloody brown.
Pathosis (A Dark Evolution Book 1) Page 21