The on-screen graphic below her read “Panic in major cities.” The view shifted to roads littered with abandoned cars, people gathering what supplies they could and racing away on foot as the city began to burn.
The reporter continued on camera, “Smaller cities are not immune. What you are seeing now is the city of Syracuse, where a state championship football game fueled an outbreak of violence that has spun out of control.”
Vague silhouettes wavered in front of cars and buildings that had been set on fire. Blood smears could be seen on people close to the shaking cameras. Sporadic gunfire rattled in the background. “The Twenty-Seventh Brigade Combat Team of the New York National Guard, stationed in Syracuse, has been deployed to bring back order.”
In the diner, it was as if they were watching a movie with elaborate replications of their own neighborhood. The reality of it hadn’t sunk in yet.
With the exception of Scott, who was always in tune with his bottomless appetite, the Parks and Hales hadn’t realized how hungry they were until the hot food was in front of them. Their server refreshed the coffees. Clinking of silverware on plates created the only addition to the ambient noise of the TV.
Baby Autumn woke up halfway through the meal; she, too, was famished. Laura put the blanket over the baby’s head and breastfed her. When she finished, she handed a groggy Autumn over to Maddy, whispering, “Hold her, I’ll be right back,” and made her way to the bathroom.
After Laura left, the diner’s front door burst open with such force the aluminum-framed glass threatened to shatter. A wild-eyed young girl stumbled in, eyes wide in fear. She moved her mouth soundlessly and jerked as she walked as if she were having a seizure.
She crumpled to the ground in convulsions. Her clothes were dirty and torn. Dried blood covered her face and her right shoulder, where a crescent-shaped gash in her skin continued to bleed. The teenager’s jaws began to clench, her teeth grinding together so hard that they had visibly cracked.
The Sheriff was closest to her, and he rushed over, grabbing a napkin wrapped silverware set from a nearby table. He straddled the young girl, trying to pin her down while he waited for an opening to get the silverware between her teeth.
“Hey! Give me a hand here. Hold her arms and legs.”
Tom and Scott were the first to the Sheriff’s side. They wrestled the girl’s limbs to the ground. Scott put his hand on her forehead to stabilize her head and give the sheriff an opportunity to get the silverware in. Her skin was cool to the touch.
Laura left the bathroom, processed what she saw, then took charge. “Stop! Stop right now.”
The Sheriff didn’t even pause. Laura hurried over and gripped the napkin-wrapped silverware just as the deputy thrust it between the clenching teeth. She snapped her hand back with a sharp hiss, briefly holding the silverware with bloodied fingers before tossing it onto the floor. “Now get off her, for heaven’s sake, and give her some room.”
The girl’s thrashing on the floor eased to a tremble. Awareness flared in her eyes briefly before she lapsed into catatonia. The men carried the sick girl to an empty booth
“Sorry, Sheriff,” Laura said with a tired sigh. “This is what I do for a living. She could have cut her mouth, broken more teeth, or injured her jaw.”
Still in his 20’s, the Sheriff had boyish features under closely-cropped blond hair and the barest shadow of whiskers on his face. “Not at all. Glad you were here to set us straight.”
Laura shook her head at him. “Silverware? Seriously? You should know better.”
The Sheriff’s face reddened in embarrassment.“Like I said. Glad you were here.”
She threw Scott and Tom a massive bottle of hand sanitizer. “Bathe yourselves in this. I’ll be back.”
When she returned from the bathroom with the blood washed off her hand, the girl hadn’t moved. The Sheriff looked concerned.
“Do you know her?” Laura asked.
“Her name is Sadie. She’s a sad case. At ten years old, she saw her dad get killed by a car. She was only a few feet away. Her mom dropped them off at home so she could run an errand, and she watched carefully in the mirror for them to get out of the way before she backed up. Sadie dropped something and went behind the truck for it. Her dad yelled for her to get out of the way, but Sadie had her ear buds in, listening to music, and didn’t hear anything.”
“Her dad pushed her out of the way and saved her life. Her mom didn’t see any of it. She only felt a bump as one of the tires rolled over her husband’s chest. She blamed herself. Sadie blamed herself. Her mom has been in a deep depression ever since. She hardly leaves the house for anything other than work. On top of it all, she’s gotten really sick and now it seems like Sadie might be catching it too. What a mess.”
Laura couldn’t keep herself from thinking about her own daughters as she studied the prone figure of young Sadie. She cleared her throat. “So this is the first time she’s had any type of seizure? We should get her to the hospital. Can you call her mom?”
“We’ve had a handful of cases just like this show up since last night. The family doc thinks it’s one of the new diseases flying around these days. He asked us to get the word out to people that if they got sick, to stay in their houses and to contact him for a house call. Said he’d do whatever he can for them. He didn’t want this to spread all over the place and figured he knew better than anyone how to keep it under control.”
“This might be more serious. There is a deadly virus that begins with tremors. You should get her to a hospital.”
“Our nearest big hospital is in the middle of that.” He nodded toward the TV which flashed scenes of the major riots breaking out in Syracuse. “Let me try to find the doctor. The phones haven’t been working. I’ll see if one of the other Deputies knows where he is.”
He lifted his walkie-talkie. “Dispatch. It’s Sheriff King. Copy? Hey, Erin. Are you there?”
Static answered. “Deputy Milligan? Deputy Croft? Deputy Rogers?”
Again, only static answered him. His unease grew, and if his expression hadn’t given him away, the stress in his voice did. “Something is very wrong,” he told Laura in a whisper. “Can you stick around? Keep an eye on Sadie and keep these people calm until I get back?”
Laura, Scott, and Tom were all thinking of their girls, and they hadn’t been able to get a call through. They were ninety minutes from home. “Sorry. My daughter might be sick, too, and I’m afraid for her. I need to go.” She urged them to the door, squirting hand sanitizer liberally as they walked.
Everyone in the diner had heard Laura refer to a deadly illness Sadie might have. When they saw that the Sheriff and Laura were planning to leave, they grew afraid and tried to push their way to the exit.
The Sheriff stepped in front of the door, halting everyone, “Listen up. I can’t stop you folks from leaving. We may be OK. We may not be. But if there is something to be caught, we’ve already got it. We’ll know very soon. I’m going out to check with my deputies and find the doc. I’ll bring him back here. Until I get back, just stay here. It’s the surest way to see the doctor and I know you don’t want to spread this to your loved ones.”
A big man in mechanic’s uniform put his hand on the Sheriff’s shoulder and promised to take care of the sick girl. He was well known in the town. He could go from teddy bear to grizzly bear in a terrible instant when the situation called for it, the perfect guardian for Sadie. The Sheriff smiled his thanks and charged out into the hot night.
Laura looked at the nervous patrons. Though uncertainty marked their faces, their feet were planted firmly on the restaurant floor. They were going to ride it out until the Sheriff returned.
With an apologetic smile, Laura pushed her family outside behind Tom and Chase. The Sheriff’s car was already gone. Laura prayed he would find the doctor and get back in time to help poor Sadie. Even more fervently, she silently asked God, “Please save my little girl.”
The wheels of the minivan churned up grav
el when Scott fired up the engine and sped to the dark highway.
CHAPTER 16
BITTER WOES
People were fleeing cities in upstate New York, which meant cars were gridlocked on every Interstate. The country highways were relatively empty.
Tom drove at dangerous speeds. Sweat poured from his forehead in spite of the powerful air conditioner blasting away in the cab. Again and again, he called his wife. Each time he got the same frustrating “All circuits are busy now” message.
Chase spoke up hesitantly, the game forgotten for the moment. “Do you think Katie might be dying?”
“I don’t think so, son. She’s home with your mom, and your mom will know how to take care of her. The faster we get home, the sooner we can find out how she is and how we might help.”
He flipped through all FM and AM radio stations, trying to catch any news he could. He only cared about the town where his wife and daughter waited for him, whether or not any deadly viruses had reached them, and what care was available. Information was limited. From the brief statements that traveled the airwaves, civilization was in free fall.
“Come on. Come on,” he muttered as he raced home.
His thoughts were out of control, dwelling on worst case scenarios. This was unusual for him. He’d learned to master his emotions. It helped him operate more effectively when the stakes were highest and multiple variables were in a constant state of flux. He had exercised that discipline in the most chaotic firefights. It enabled him to save many lives, including his own.
Right now, Tom couldn’t muster the mental clarity. His mind howled with an awful premonition that before the day ended, he might lose his whole family. He vowed he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them.
He pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The Escalade’s powerful engine surged. Navigating the twisting ninety-mile journey in an hour was close to impossible. He aimed to make it in forty-five minutes.
Tom and Chase arrived home twenty minutes ahead of Scott’s family. They screeched into the driveway, doors flying open and feet scraping the ground before the truck fully stopped.
Tom found his wife lying on the couch. Sweat glazed her forehead. He knelt by her side and shook her gently. She startled awake with a small scream.
“Sorry I scared you. Is everything all right?” Tom asked
She stood up and gave Tom a hard squeeze and gentle kiss. “I’m so glad you’re home. We’re good. It’s amazing how much better Katie is. The fever is gone and she’s eating. She was chatty an hour ago. Finally, her poor little body was so exhausted she fell asleep again. She may have more occasional bouts of fever before this is over, but I think the worst is behind her.”
Tom held Ridley in his arms a moment longer and whispered, in a voice choked with emotion, “I would be lost without you. I love you.”
Ridley kissed her husband and then turned her attention to her son. She hugged Chase to her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. You were wonderful. Don’t let ten seconds define your life. You’ve accomplished a lot this season, and you have a lifetime of wonderful days and years ahead of you.”
Chase relived that sickening moment when he cost his team the state championship. All that he had experienced over the last few hours had made the game seem distant and dreamlike. He melted into his mom’s arms, briefly her little boy again. It was like spending a few minutes at a quick charge station, enough to fuel him for a less troubled sleep that night and to begin the process of healing.
When Ridley held her son, she noticed the dried blood on the back of his neck. “What is this? I saw on TV when that woman attacked you. Did she do it? What happened?”
Tom jumped in, surprising himself when he heard annoyance in his voice. “I already looked at it. Just a scratch. Worst case, we slap some antibiotic on it and a Band-Aid. He’s fine.”
Ridley scowled at him.
Conscious of it again, Chase felt the burning scratch on his skin and touched it ruefully.
Ridley went into the bathroom to get antiseptic. While she was gone, Katie came downstairs, looking much stronger. She hadn’t showered or changed her clothes in three days, and she reeked in the aftermath of her illness, but that could be fixed. Her soaring fever no longer ravaged her body, and the sparkle of her personality had returned.
Elated, Tom swung her up to rest her head on his shoulder. “Feeling better, Princess?”
“Yes, Daddy. Much better. I’m sad I didn’t get to go with you.” She yawned and faded back to sleep.
He rocked her lightly while he carried her up the stairs to her room. The vinegary smell of her sickness lingered in the air. He laid her down in her bed and stripped away the white down comforter, trading it for a bright sunflower-yellow blanket. He knelt beside her and stroked her hair for a few minutes. “Thank you, God, for helping her. Please make her strong again,” he said aloud, his heart swelling with relief now that she looked more like herself again.
Downstairs, Ridley dabbed Chase’s wound with hydrogen peroxide. He looked haggard. His movements were sluggish, his eyes unfocused whenever he glanced up.
Tom returned to the room. He sought reassurance from his wife. “She looks a lot better. Is she good now? She never had any seizures or anything like that?”
Ridley looked up and gave him a smile. “I know what you’re worried about; I was too, at first. No. She never had the slightest tremor. I’m sure she doesn’t have the Thapp virus.”
The room had gotten five times brighter, in Tom’s eyes. He plopped onto the couch, hugely relieved.
“Is that what the sick girl at the diner had?” Chase asked, wincing as Ridley rubbed particularly hard with her cloth to wipe away the more stubborn bits of dried blood.
Ridley snapped her head up. “What girl? What happened?” She looked sharply at her husband, demanding an explanation.
“After the game, things got crazy,” Tom paused a microsecond, reflecting on the surreal battle he had with the two relentless figures in the locker room. He barely escaped without serious injury.
“We stopped at a diner to eat and decompress with the Hales. A young girl came into the restaurant. She fell down and had a seizure. A sheriff ran to take care of her, and Scott and I helped. Chase never got close to her. Laura made sure we did things the right way.” He tried a smile as he continued. “In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t passed out from the fumes from the gallons of hand sanitizer she poured on us.”
Ridley didn’t smile. “And then you came home to make sure that if Katie didn’t already have the virus, you could give her one more exposure, one more chance of catching it.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Tom asked in a hard voice. “Ignore her? Tell the Sheriff to pound sand? And if Katie fell sick and shivering on the floor in a room full of strangers, they should shun her?”
“I don’t know, Tom. We need to figure this out. The way these infections are spreading, it will hit people we know, people we care about.”
Chase realized that the girl Sadie might already be dead, and that some of his friends and their families could die as well. Heaviness pressed into his chest, squeezing his lungs. He closed his eyes.
“You’re right. This is going to get bad. We need to make a plan,” Tom said.
The room went silent but for the sounds of their breathing. Chase’s came slow and deep, a hint of snore creeping into each inhalation.
Tom pulled his son up from the chair and half-carried him to his room. When he dropped him into bed, Tom said, “Tomorrow will be better, son.”
A bitter taste filled his mouth as he said it. His face flushed as if he’d just told an awful lie. As he walked back to the living room, he shook himself in an attempt to rid himself of the bad feeling.
Glancing through the front window, he spied the Hales’ porch light. Scott and his family hadn’t returned yet. “I should get over there. Have you been checking on Emily? How sick is she?” he asked as he strode to the door.
“Good news th
ere at least. She’s just fine. Almost scared her to death when I walked into the house. She was listening to music and reading a book. When I yelled for her downstairs, she scrambled from her desk and jumped into bed. I put on a good act, worrying over her so much that she admitted that she’d made up symptoms so she didn’t have to go with her family.”
Tom went out the front door into the coal-black night, coughing as he took a breath in the hot, steamy air. He jogged across the street to the Hale’s house. “Incredible,” he thought to himself, “Faking sick just to stay home and read. Missing my son’s game is one thing. Worrying her parents when there are fatal diseases making their rounds? No. That’s just wrong. Scott is too easy on her.”
His inner voice had an unusually harsh quality to it. His hand shook in fury when he reached into the hanging potted plant where Scott kept a spare key. He found himself wanting to teach her a serious lesson, show her how scary the world was. As if he’d regressed to his angry teen years, he raged inside, craving another bloody fight, with anyone.
He pictured her little oval face blotched with real terror. That image made him feel deeply ashamed. He’d rather break his own arm than cause Emily to be afraid of him. He drew in a deep breath and ordered himself to pull it together.
He unlocked the front door and called inside, “Emily? It’s Uncle Tommy. I’m coming in.”
CHAPTER 17
POSSESSIONS, FRIENDS AND KIN
When Scott pulled into the driveway, Tom sat on the front step, haloed in the porch light. A smile creased his face, telling them what they needed to know: Emily was fine.
Relief washed over them and only fatigue remained. Laura made her way into the house, letting Maddy carry the baby. She checked on Emily and got everyone to bed. They were asleep within minutes.
The Hollow Men (Book 1): Crave Page 6