The Hours

by Robert Barnard

  “Why is this happening?” he asked.

  Chloe stood behind her friend, her hands on her hips. “I don’t know.”

  Principal Chaplik started to pace back and forth breathlessly behind Nolan and Chloe. The pudgy man loosened his tie and walked between the two high schoolers as an officer outside approached the front doors.

  “You two get to the nurse’s office,” Chaplik said.

  “Yeah, we’re fine, thanks for asking,” Chloe said.

  Nolan ignored his chubby principal and continued to look on despondently at the scene unfolding before them. “Where are they taking him?”

  “Hey,” Chaplik said, annoyed at having to repeat himself. “I want everyone that was on that bus in the nurse’s office. Now.”

  Chaplik opened the door for the fast approaching officer and let him inside. Chloe recognized him immediately.

  “Mr. Blankenship?” she asked.

  “Chloe,” the officer said, walking through the front doors. “How are you?”

  “I’m really not okay, but I’m okay. I’m not hurt, I mean. I just want to know—where’s my dad?”

  “In town, dealing with something. It’s, uh…it’s been a busy day, kid.”

  “I need you to get him here.” Chloe held up her arm and shook her iPhone in her palm. “My texts aren’t going through.”

  “Like I said, Chloe. Busy day. All hands on deck, you know? He’s fine, but he’s busy right now.”

  “I don’t care if he’s busy,” Chloe said. “Radio him, call him, whatever.”

  “Both of you, to the nurse’s office, now. I’m not going to ask again,” Chaplik said.

  “Yeah? Or what?” Nolan asked.

  “I would do what you’re told, buddy,” Blankenship said. He raised his eyebrows at Nolan.

  “Whatever,” Nolan said, and he turned away from the two. Chloe followed behind him, and the pair headed towards the nurse’s station.

  Chaplik hollered down the hall. “Don’t think what happened this morning excuses that mouth of yours, Mr. Fischer. You just booked yourself a seat in detention for all of next week.”

  There weren’t enough cots and chairs in the nurse’s office for everyone to have their own seat, so Chloe and Nolan sat together on the floor in the furthest corner of the room. The school nurse, Miss Lowell, shuffled throughout the room, doing the best she could to dispense bandages and aspirin to the dozen or so passengers of bus thirty-three.

  Jared Moore sat down next to Chloe and said, “Thank you. For what you did back there.”

  Chloe looked confused. “For what?”

  “You know. For opening the door.”

  Chloe was so stirred, so turned around by the bus crash that she nearly forgot what she had done. In fleeting glimpses, she could still see Alicia tumbling through the air before colliding with a windshield.

  “It’s kind of a fucked up thing to thank someone for, yeah?” Chloe said. She whimpered. Tears welled up in the corner of her eyes.

  Jared could not understand Chloe’s lack of appreciation. “She was like, about to eat us, dude. You don’t feel bad about it, do you?” he asked.

  Nolan interjected. “You did what you had to do. None of us knew what to do.”

  “What happened to her?” Chloe murmured. She wiped a smudge of makeup away from the corner of her eye.

  “It’s all over the news, man,” Jared said. “There’s, like, some kind of—I don’t know what they’re calling it—virus going around. It’s making people go crazy.”

  “And Alicia had it?” Chloe asked.

  “Shit. Beats me. I guess so,” Jared said. “Why else would we all be in here? They’re isolating us, man.”

  “Jared,” Nolan said, “we’re in the nurse’s office because we were just in a bus accident.”

  “Whatever,” Jared said. “I’ve been texting Kimmy Thompson since I got off the bus. She’s locked up in her homeroom. Everyone is locked in their homeroom. Whole school’s on lockdown, but we’re stuck here—why? Because we were on the same bus as that crazy bitch.”

  Nolan stood up and sighed. “Whatever you say, Jare. I gotta’ piss.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Chloe said.

  “Bathroom action, huh? Nice, nice,” Jared said. He smirked dumbly at Chloe and Nolan.

  “I need a drink of water, asshole,” Chloe said.

  Nolan and Chloe walked to the front of the small, cramped, room, careful not to trip over anyone.

  “I need the restroom,” Nolan said bluntly.

  “No one’s leaving the station,” Nurse Lowell said. She didn’t bother to raise her eyes. The nurse was busy wrapping a strip of gauze around Kevin Dobb’s wrist.

  “What happened to you?” Chloe asked.

  “I scraped it,” Kevin said. He snapped a piece of gum in his mouth.

  “I can stand here and piss myself, then,” Nolan said.

  Nurse Lowell laughed. “Given this morning’s circumstances, Mr. Fischer, I’m going to let that one slide. Sit.”

  Nolan stayed put.

  Nurse Lowell looked up from Kevin’s arm. “If I let you go, will you cut the crap for the rest of the time I have you?”

  “Sure,” Nolan said.

  “Fine. Use the one just across the hall. I’ll be watching.”

  Nolan walked out of the nurse’s office and Chloe trailed behind.

  “Oh, and where do you think you’re going, Miss Whiteman?”

  “I need a sip of water.”

  “Do you think I was born yesterday?” Nurse Lowell said, sounding amused.

  “What?” Chloe said. “I’m thirsty.”

  “You can use my water cooler.”

  “Fine,” Chloe said. She grabbed a small paper cup of water before she returned to her corner of the room, defeated.

  Nolan walked across the hall and into the men’s room, quickly took care of business, then spun around to head back to the nurse’s station. Before he turned the corner to leave the lavatory, he stopped, realizing that he could hear voices down the hall. They were hushed and echoed off the walls, but if Nolan stayed perfectly still, he could understand them.

  “We can’t use the word ‘quarantine,’” the first voice said. It sounded like Principal Chaplik.

  “Then keep using ‘lockdown,’” someone replied. Nolan couldn’t be certain, but if he had to guess, it was the officer that Chloe knew. Blankenship. “I won’t tell you how to do your job, but all those kids have cell phones. Reception’s poor, sure, but any one of them can use Google and know what’s going on out there.”

  Chaplik said, “They’ll riot if we call it a quarantine.”

  “And they won’t if you call it a lockdown?”

  The voices paused.

  “How many more officers are on the way?”

  Nolan heard Blankenship chuckle.

  “I’m the only one.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Chaplik said loudly.

  “We’re spread thin right now, Mr. Chaplik.” Blankenship drew a sharp breath. “Fire crews are headed back out in a moment, and my partner is on his way to a call in town.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “It’s not good.”

  “Jesus,” Chaplik said with a stutter. “What is it? Is it terrorists?”

  “If it is, no one’s taking responsibility for it.”

  “Well then, what?”

  “No one has a clue right now.”

  “People are eating each other in the streets, and no one has a clue why?” Chaplik asked.

  “We don’t’ know how it’s spreading—whether it’s through air, through water, through one-on-one contact with those infected. We just don’t know. Our best bet is having everyone stay put in small groups—we can manage this.”

  “My ass we can.” Chaplik snorted. “Half of our faculty didn’t show up this morning—apparently the half that watch the morning news. Maybe with a teacher in each room we could, but right now I’ve got fifty kids in rooms designed for twenty-five. They�
��re getting restless.”

  “Then what do you suggest we do?”

  “Move them all to the cafeteria. That’s what my emergency guidebook says to do in situations like this.”

  Blankenship laughed. “I can guarantee that book wasn’t written with situations like this in mind. What if one of them turns ill in that wide, open cafeteria of yours? You’ve already lost one bus driver, three students, and word came back that your gym teacher tested positive. This thing moves fast.”

  “Then we’ll deal with it then. But I want to be able to see them all at once. I want them all to have their own seat, at least, for Christ’s sake.”

  “You’re the principal, it’s your call. If I were you, I would keep the ones on the bus in the nurse’s station for a while longer, though.”

  “Fine. I’ll go make the announcement—”

  Nolan felt a hand yank at his hoodie.

  “Hey, get your hands off of me,” he said. He swatted his hands around and stumbled backwards.

  “I thought you may have fallen in, Mr. Fischer,” Nurse Lowell said. She didn’t look pleased. “Let’s go.”

  The petite nurse grabbed Nolan by his sleeve and escorted him across the hall and back to her office. After they returned, Nolan went back to his corner with Chloe, who was in tears.

  “God, Nolan, where have you been?” Chloe asked with a sob.

  “I got caught up with something. What’s wrong?”

  Chloe sniffled. “My dad hasn’t texted me back yet. And these news reports, and videos, oh God—it’s awful, Nolan. It’s happening all over New York.”

  Chloe extended her arm and held her cell phone close to Nolan’s face. An image of the New York City skyline panned across the screen; smoke rose from several buildings. The camera changed to show a street clogged with cars and people running.

  Nolan said, “Your dad is fine. We’re fine. We’re going to be fine.”

  “They’re talking about evacuations. They’re already trying to evacuate parts of the city, and—I’m not leaving without my dad. My dad’s out there somewhere, dealing with all of this.” Chloe’s voice had rose so loud that a couple of girls chatting nearby turned to give her a dirty look.

  “We’ll get to him. Don’t worry. We’re sure as hell not staying here. This place is a ticking time bomb.”

  On the other end of the room, Nurse Lowell hung up her phone. “An announcement is going to come over the speakers soon telling us to all meet in the cafeteria—ignore it.”

  “Why?” Jared hollered from his chair.

  “We’ve been told to remain here,” Nurse Lowell said sternly.

  “Says who?” Jared groaned. “Principal ass chaps?”

  Nurse Lowell slammed her hand down on her desk. “That’s enough. I know that it’s been a hard day and there’s a lot of confusion, but that doesn’t give you all an open invitation to be disrespectful wise-asses.” Nurse Lowell covered her mouth quick, shocked by her own profanity.

  Kevin Dobbs sat on one of the nurse’s beds and scanned the room. “Wait a second—where are Britney and David?”

  Rachel Epps yelled “Hey” from a corner opposite of Kevin before anyone could give him an answer. “I just got off the phone with my mom. She’s trying to pick me up, and she said there’s a cop out there who isn’t letting her through?”

  “So what?” Nurse Lowell said.

  “So, um, shouldn’t you be able to do something about that?” Rachel asked.

  Nurse Lowell said, “Do I look like a cop? Do I look like I direct traffic?”

  “Hey, lady,” Jared hollered, “you gotta’ let us out if our parents are outside, trying to pick us up. It’s like, in the constitution.”

  “Shut your mouth, Jared,” Nurse Lowell fumed. “You don’t dare refer to me as ‘lady’—”

  “This is bullshit,” another girl exclaimed from across the room. “Total bullshit.”

  The room erupted into arguing and yelling.

  Nolan and Chloe sat together in their corner, staying out of the fray.

  “My dad will know what to do,” Chloe said, staring down at her cell phone screen. Her hands trembled. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of him. He’ll know what to do…he’ll know what to do.”

  SIX

  The only sound between Dana and the lonely road ahead of her was the dull buzz of her car’s engine. Her Prius hummed and whizzed down Pigeon Hill as it approached the outskirts of East Violet below.

  Dana’s driving was cautious and careful; the accident in town she witnessed earlier left her rattled. She treated every intersection she passed as if a police car may materialize from thin air.

  Each time Dana blinked, or took a moment to shut her eyes at a stop light, the ghastly image outside of Henderson High would reappear. Two small legs, almost neatly crossed, with two clean white stockings, save for a drop or two of blood. The way they led up to a skirt, to where the rest of a body should be. Dana hadn’t seen anything nearly as gory in a scary movie, let alone in real life. It left a sour knot tugging deep inside of her stomach.

  Almost home, Dana thought.

  She couldn’t wait to cuddle up on her couch with Elliott. Maybe instead of hawking over her iPad and the morning news, she would nuke a cup of hot chocolate and watch The Price is Right. Something, anything, to take her mind off of the Coopers down the street or the stray legs on the pavement outside her school. No, it would just be her and Elliott shouting the price of canned yams at her television set.

  Whump-whump, whump-whump, whump-whump…a helicopter passing overhead snapped Dana out of her daytime television daydream. Up ahead, blocking the road into town, was a wall of police cruisers and SUV’s.

  Dana braked, slowed her car down to a crawl, and approached the road block. Within moments a fat, older officer, nearly busting out of his uniform and vest, waddled towards Dana’s window. He waved his hand in a plunging motion, signaling for Dana to roll her window down.

  Dana pressed a plastic switch on her door, and the car window slid down.

  The officer grumbled, “Ma’am, I can’t let you through unless you live in town.”

  “Oh, sure, sure.” Dana fiddled through the briefcase on her passenger seat and pulled out a clutch. “I live just over on Oak.”

  “That’s great. I’m gonna’ hafta’ see some I.D. saying so.”

  “Well, of course. That’s what I’m doing, I mean. I’m looking for it right now.” Dana dug clumsily through the clutch. She flicked past credit cards, receipts, and chewing gum wrappers. Her stomach sank when she finally came across her license. It had been three years since Dana finished graduate school and moved to East Violet, and she never bothered to update the address on her license. She plucked the license out of her clutch and handed it to the officer anyway.

  “This here says Albany. You know you’re in East Violet, right?”

  “Of course, officer, it’s just that—”

  “This is no good, I can’t let you through with this.”

  “Can you please let me explain?” Dana asked.

  The officer gave a silent nod.

  “I live in the Raintree Village complex on Oak. Number 505. I teach English at Henderson High. Where the bus accident is? You must know about it. I raced over there this morning and there’s a roadblock at the school, too. The officer there would not let me into work, and instructed me to go home—which is this way. I just want to get home.”

  “Is that so?” the officer said, before grunting. He turned his head to the side and launched a hocked up piece of phlegm, or chewing tobacco. Dana couldn’t tell which. “How long has it been since you moved here from Albany?”

  Dana looked perplexed. “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked. She was livid.

  “Just answer the question, ma’am.”

  “Two years. Maybe three, next summer.”

  “Mhm,” the officer said. “You know that, in the state of New York, you’ve got ten days after moving to notify the DMV of an address ch
ange?”

  Dana was losing all of her patience. “Are you really lecturing me on this right now? What on earth is going on in town? What is happening, why can’t I go home?”

  “Miss, I’m not trying to be an asshole about this,” the officer said. “I’m really not. But, I’ve got strict orders—no one in, no one out. There’s been some trouble in town, as I’m sure you’re aware of, and we’ve been instructed to put a citywide quarantine into effect.”

  “Quarantine?”

  The officer nodded. “Do you have any family you can stay with?”

  “Not nearby,” Dana said. “There’s, like, fifty of you standing around the road here. Can’t one of you escort me home? I can show you a copy of my lease or something. I can show you the key to my front door!”

  The officer shook his head. “I can’t. If you want to wait, I can have one of my men bring you down to the station in a bit. We can run your finger prints, make sure you are who you say you are—”

  “Run my fingerprints?” Dana was seething. She started to drum her fingers on her steering wheel in a frenzied beat.

  “Ma’am,” the officer said with a chuckle, “by your own admission, you don’t have valid identification.”

  “Valid identification,” Dana muttered, and she shifted her car into reverse. “Un-fucking-believable.”

  The cop put his hand on his hip. “I don’t have time for this shit, lady. Are we going to have a problem here?”

  “No problem at all,” Dana said, flooring the accelerator. “Pig.”

  “Hey,” the officer hollered, and he stomped towards her car. Dana had already spun around and pointed the vehicle once again towards Henderson High. She watched the officer wave his hands in frustration from her rearview mirror, then zoomed off.

  Dana made it as far as the Xtra Mart gas station before she had to pull over to regain her composure. She pulled into a parking spot in front of the shop and put her head and hands on the steering wheel. The thought of driving out to Albany crossed her mind. She could stay with her mom until all of this—whatever “this” was—blew over. That thought was quickly replaced by an image of Elliott alone in her apartment. It was easy to imagine him scared, hungry, and making a mess of her carpets. Maybe she could call her neighbor, Shelby, and ask her to check up on the pup. But that thought wasn’t comforting, either. It was more than just missing Elliott. Dana wanted to be home.