by Kate Morris
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smile.
“If you could help in the afternoon, we’ll take care of mornings.”
“Of course,” Jane said. “The restaurant where I work is usually only on the weekends anyway unless I have to cover someone’s shift. So, I can come every night, Mrs. Goddard. Not a problem.”
“I appreciate that, Jane dear,” she said with a smile. “Charles is going to move two bales into the outer pastures. Don’t feed those horses grain. Let’s hold onto what grain we have for now in case things get worse before they get better. They need more grain in the cold winter months than they do now. That will at least cut our feedings down to the twelve in the front two pastures.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jane said.
“Keep the water troughs outside filled. The evening feedings should go rather quickly with only tossing hay and grain to the ones outside in the front pastures.”
“I’ll use the troughs,” Jane relayed.
“Right, the grain spread out in one, the hay in the other.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jane agreed.
Mrs. Goddard sighed as if weary. “We have probably six weeks before the first hard snowfalls begin. I hope. Don’t worry about bringing any of the horses inside unless you see one of them limping or lame or something, the usual things we watch for.”
“Yes, absolutely,” she said. “And I’ll call Doc Somerfield if I see something and you aren’t available. I know the routine.”
“Dr. Somerfield is unavailable right now, Jane dear,” she told them.
“Why?”
“He’s sick,” Mrs. Goddard told them. “We’ll use our own intuition and try to treat the horses ourselves until he’s better.”
“What about the backup vets? There are two on the list,” Jane said confusedly.
Mrs. Goddard shook her head. “They aren’t able, either.”
Jane nodded knowingly. Her expression was sad. Roman wasn’t sad. He was worried. The infection was spreading as quickly as the doctor had predicted.
The meeting adjourned, and Jane took Roman and Connor to get the hay for the front paddock while Charles used the tractor with the prong in the front to pluck the huge round bales off of the trailer. The barn felt quiet and strange without the familiar whinnying of the horses calling out for their meals. They also worked on cleaning out seven stalls that Mrs. Goddard and her son hadn’t gotten to yet. Jane showed Connor how to fill the water troughs outside while he and Jane finished in the barn. When they were done, Jane retrieved them all a soda from the fridge in the barn office, kept there by Mrs. Goddard for her employees.
“Kittty-kitty-kitty!” Connor called out and took off down one of the aisles.
“Luther,” she explained. “He’s a great mouser, in his mind. He’s actually extremely lazy and has never to this day caught a single mouse that I know of.”
Roman smiled and said, “He’s not allowed to have a pet. My mother doesn’t want animal hair in the house.”
“Nana Peaches had a dog when I moved in, but he died. My dad has the son of that dog.”
“Yeah? What kind?”
“Yellow Lab,” she explained. “Brutus is a great dog, good hunting dog. My dad’s always liked duck hunting, so he’s great with that. He takes him with him to the job site, too.”
“That’s cool,” he said. “Where is your dad? You’ve mentioned him. Does he live around here, too? Have you talked to him about all this?”
Jane shook her head and said, “No, he doesn’t live around here. And, no, I haven’t been able to talk to him yet. He’s out on a rig.”
“Big rig? Like a truck?”
“No, fracking rig. He works for a company that does natural gas fracking. I think he’s in West Virginia right now. Sometimes the places they go are too remote to get cell service, so I don’t get to talk to him for a few weeks, sometimes a little longer. He should be back soon, though. Maybe a few more weeks.”
“Good,” Roman said. “That’s good.”
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” she said.
He smiled, “A good one, I hope.”
She returned his smile, a big enough one even to show her dimples. “Oh, I always have good ideas.”
“Hm, I’ll remember you said that.”
“You brought your laptop to show me something?”
Roman nodded.
“Let’s catch Jessup,” she said. “I’ll tack him up and walk Connor around on him while you tell me about it.”
“Would Mrs. Goddard be okay with that? I can pay for a lesson…”
“No, don’t worry about it. She’s sweet. She won’t care at all. I mean, really? I think that’s the least of our problems, and I think Mrs. Goddard sees it, too.”
He nodded, “Yeah, I think she’s been around the block enough to know.”
They found Connor and took him out to the back pasture to catch the pony. His brother was so excited he started jumping up and down. Jane led the pony into the aisle and tied him in the barn. Then she put on a pad, saddle blanket, and the saddle, showing them patiently how to do it all. Then the bridle was next.
“He’s a good boy,” Jane cooed. “Aren’t you, Jessup?”
The pony tossed his head anxiously. She took them into the indoor riding arena as a strong wind gust ripped through the open pastures and between the barns. Jane patiently showed Connor how to mount, which instantly made him nervous. She gave him the reins but kept control of him with a lead line hooked to the ring under the horse’s chin. Then they were moving. His little brother was thrilled, which made Roman happy.
“Tell me what you found out,” she encouraged as they took their first lap around the empty riding arena.
“There’s a doctor on YouTube who’s putting out video diaries of the infected,” he said, gaining her full attention.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, he shows from the time they get sick, within a few hours of the first fevers, all the way…well, to the end. It’s pretty intense, but I think you should watch one.”
“What? No way. Gross, Roman.”
“It’s important. You need to see the way they behave and…”
“I’ve already seen enough of that.”
“No, you haven’t,” he corrected. “These aren’t the RF1 patients. They’re the RF2 infected. It’s much different. I can’t explain it. You just have to see it. They’re so much more…” he paused and had to suppress a shiver, “you just have to watch. I want you to watch so that you’re prepared if you run into one of these ones.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere!” he said loudly, causing her to flinch. “Sorry. I just don’t want you to get hurt by one of them.”
“Like Caleb?”
“Yes, I think he had RF2. But you haven’t seen what the deterioration looks like. I think he was in the beginning stages. He was nowhere near the ones in these videos.”
Jane frowned but nodded anyway. “Fine. What else did you learn?”
“Another doctor who claimed to work at a WHO facility in Europe- he wouldn’t say where and I can’t blame him- anyway, he said that the only thing we can do that would prevent us from getting it is to live in complete and total isolation.”
“How would that even be possible?”
He shook his head. Roman wasn’t sure about that, either. Was he supposed to convince his parents to pack up and move to a concrete bunker in the middle of Montana?
“What else?” she asked as they took a second lap.
“He went on to explain that some people have a natural immunity to it, that they won’t catch it. That’s got to be good news. They think the number of immune is as low as fifteen to twenty percent of the population, though. He said that the survival rate once infected is also low, but it is possible. They’ve had some people get better. And once you’ve had it and survived, you’ll never get it again.”
“Are they testing people to see if they’re immune?”
He shook his head, “No, there’s
no way to test that many people. Plus, the only way to test against it is to expose the person to it.”
“No, thanks,” she said sarcastically.
“Right,” he agreed, thinking about the idea of purposely getting exposed to this. “He also talked about the U.N. creating evacuation sites.”
“What’s that mean?”
“They’re working now already on evacuating people from highly infected areas into safe, uninfected zones.”
“Where?”
He answered her patiently, “Africa was one. Places in Europe, places in each country.”
“What about here?”
“Yeah, I’m assuming America will have safe places set up for this sort of thing, right?”
She shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe our government’s more prepared than you think.”
He rolled his eyes but nodded. Roman was definitely skeptical. They walked a while longer and finally put the pony back out to pasture with the older horses again where he wouldn’t be bullied. They let Connor chase the barn cats while Roman sat in the hay with Jane and used his laptop to show her the videos he’d watched the night before. He wanted her to know how dangerous these people could be. He already knew. He’d grappled on the ground with Caleb. Jane was a small person. She needed to see what they looked like when the infection deteriorated their brains to the point of madness. It was way worse than Caleb’s behavior. Jane actually flinched and stopped the video on the first patient videotape. They discussed it for a few minutes until Jane couldn’t talk about it anymore. Then Roman drove her home and, much to his disappointment, left her.
When he got home that evening, his father was gone picking up his mother from the Cleveland airport. While he was waiting for them to return home, Roman made sure Connor got a shower and then also showered himself. Then he researched some more on the Russian flu, which was finally starting to be called that by some in the news, or at least hinted to. Roman figured they’d have to come clean soon, with so many being infected or killed from it.
He texted Jane to see if she was okay, which she didn’t answer right away. Fifteen minutes later, she let him know that they were fine and that their truck was repaired and back home. Roman was relieved in case they had to get somewhere quickly. For some reason, he just couldn’t shake an impending sense of urgency.
His parents arrived home after midnight, but Roman was waiting up for them. He wanted to talk.
“Don’t worry! It’ll bounce back,” his mother was saying as she came in through the garage, his father right behind her.
“Bounce back? This could take years to recover from,” his father complained.
“Hey, guys,” he said, surprising them. “What’s going on? What will bounce back?”
“Our stock portfolio,” his father explained and placed her briefcase on the counter.
“What’s wrong with them?”
His mother laughed and said, “See, Jim? See what I mean? Teenagers have no sense of their futures.”
His father ignored her and explained, “Our retirement. It just took a nose dive. The stock market has done a steady crash for the last six weeks. I don’t know what the hell’s going on with it. It’ll take us years to recover from this.”
“But, you diversify and all that, right?” he asked, repeating terminology he’d heard them talking about over the years.
“Yes, Roman,” he said. “But diversification isn’t going to help with this. Apparently, we should’ve bought into pork futures.”
They both laughed, but Roman didn’t. He also didn’t really understand the joke.
“Sorry for your stress,” Roman said, hoping he didn’t add to his parents’ stress most of the time. He knew they were busy raking in the cash so they could retire early. If that’s what they both wanted, then he hoped they got it. He just hoped the Russian flu didn’t kill their dreams. “Are they saying what’s been causing the crash?”
“There are measures in place to control trading, Roman,” his mother said. “It’s technically not a crash. We just lost some money. It’ll come back. It always does. There are highs and lows, dips and peaks. It’s just the way the stock market works.”
As she reasoned this out, his father didn’t look like he was buying it. He seemed genuinely worried about it.
“I hope it goes back up,” he added, trying to make his dad feel better.
“Don’t worry about it, Roman,” his father said. Then he asked, “What are you doing up?”
“Just waiting for you guys to get home. What took so long?”
His mother explained that her flight was canceled twice but that no reason was given either time and that she had to take a connecting flight to Chicago and then to Cleveland.
“Were there any sick people on the flight, Mom?” Roman asked her, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her make herself a sandwich.
“Sick? I’m sure there were, Roman,” she finally answered as she poured herself a diet soda. “There are always people at this time of year on flights that are sick. That’s why I always take extra Vitamin C.”
Apparently, neither of his parents had experienced seeing any of the infected firsthand. If so, she wouldn’t be acting so flippant. Vitamin C wasn’t going to help fight off RF2.
“We got let out early today at school,” he said, then recounted the meeting between the police and faculty that he witnessed in the gymnasium.
“Sounds like a bad flu,” she said and took a seat next to his father at the counter.
“Yeah, but it’s more than that, Mom,” he said.
“Roman, I don’t want you missing a lot of school,” she said testily. “Getting into the best college you can is the only thing you should be thinking about. Did you get those brochures I left on the entry table for you? I still think you should consider Cal Tech.”
“Mom, this is serious. I don’t know how you guys aren’t seeing it. This…this infection…”
She chuckled and said something about zombies and Roman having senior ditch fever. Roman rolled his eyes and left, too pissed off to discuss it further.
His phone buzzed, and it was Jane again. She said she couldn’t live with the guilt of lying to her grandmother about going to the hospital with him the other night. She wanted to come clean and tell her the truth. An idea struck, and he called her to talk about it. They talked for a while, and when they hung up, Roman felt like they’d made a good plan. It was time to come clean about a lot of things.
Chapter Seventeen
At six a.m. her phone buzzed a message from the school’s number. It was usually their emergency alert system to let the parents know of a snow day or a power outage at the school. It wasn’t snowing outside, so Jane worried she was in trouble for leaving early yesterday with Roman. This time, however, when she listened to the message, it was a long one about the flu virus and not about ditching school or having her grandmother call them or to report off students because of the weather. It was a message from the school superintendent stating that school would be suspended for the rest of the week and that faculty would also not be available on school premises. They were having a professional company come in to clean and fumigate the entire school and all of the buildings. She knew of a school near Cleveland that had gone through something like that a few years ago when Rotavirus had swept through it. She thought perhaps it was a grade school. A month ago, Jane would’ve been jumping for joy. Not now. She knew what all of this meant, even if everyone else didn’t see it yet.
She joined her grandmother for breakfast, shared the message with her, and ran back up to take a quick shower. When she got out, she checked her phone. Three new messages. Two from Roman, and one from Dez, who said Brian was sick. Jane’s heart sank. His parents took him to the hospital last night. She texted Roman and let him know because she knew they were friends. Then she texted Dez again to let her know of their plan. She was down with it, too, especially after Brian’s diagnosis.
Jane went to the barn early and finished quickly. She d
idn’t need Roman’s help, and she knew he’d be busy all day setting their plan into motion. Charles and a few of the neighbor’s kids, also farmers, came over and helped unload the semi-trailer full of hay. The man they bought from said he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to bring another load for a while. Jane knew that could be disastrous.
She was back to the house by four. She tried her dad’s phone three times and still got nothing but voicemail. She really wished he were here, too. At five-thirty, she went downstairs and approached her grandmother in the dining room where she was working on some sort of craft.
“Nana Peaches,” she said, getting her attention. Her head popped up, and she removed her readers, letting them rest against her chest hanging by a beaded chain. “Um…if I asked you to go somewhere with me, would you?”
“Where do you want to go, Jane?”
She bit her lip and tapped her toe nervously on the hardwood floor. “I-I don’t want to tell you. Would you just do it? If it was important, would you? Please?”
Her grandmother looked at her strangely, studying Jane for a full minute before saying, “Yes, I suppose so. What’s this all about?”
“Will you go there with me now?”
“Jane!” Nana Peaches exclaimed as if she were disappointed by Jane’s strange request.
“Sorry, it’s just that I need to talk to you about something, but I need to take us somewhere to do it.”
Her grandmother frowned.
“Please. I just need you to trust me. It’s important. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”
She sighed and said, “Fine.”
They pulled on their jackets, her grandmother eyeing her suspiciously as she did so. Then Jane drove them out of their driveway and hooked a left less than one block away into the private neighborhood, Roman’s neighborhood. The guard let her pass.
“Jane, what’s going on? Why are we going here?”
“You’ll see,” she said and drove straight to Roman’s house, parking at the curb out front. “Please, come inside with me, Nana Peaches. Please.”