Contagion

by Teri Terry

  Edinburgh: “Data from some places is sketchy, but we’ll do what we can.”

  London: “Dr. Tanzer, could you visit this patient in Newcastle who was infected and appears to have survived? We’ll get you issued with an immune pass so you can travel.”

  Mum: “And one for my son. He’s eighteen. He’s been up all night helping with the sick and the dead, as have I. I want him to come with me.”

  London: “We’ll send an escort for you once we replace biohazard suit supplies.”

  Mum: “I want him to come with me so I can do this now, and get back to analyzing everything we know.”

  London: “One moment.” There is a pause; his eyes focus off camera. Then he turns back. “Very well. Two passes will be with you along with reinforcements by airdrop this afternoon.”

  Edinburgh: “In the meantime, Dr. Tanzer, I suggest you get some sleep.”

  The groups say goodbye one by one, and the screens go dark.

  Kai goes to Mum and holds her. They can’t see me or feel me, but I go to them too and hold them both.

  They’re sad about all the people they know that have died. I’m glad Mum and Kai haven’t gotten sick, haven’t had to go through all that pain; that they’re immune, so they won’t.

  But I’m sad too. If they got sick, they might have become like me. Even if they didn’t, then right at the end they would have seen me, heard me. Now that I know they’re immune, I also know that they’ll never see or hear me ever again.

  CHAPTER 23

  SHAY

  THE SUN HAS GONE DOWN AGAIN NOW.

  Mum shows me things, from her memories, her past.

  Including a man who could dance—the one from the photo she had hidden away, the one I recognized. Dr. Alex Cross.

  He swept her off her feet—both literally and in the other, more figurative, way. There was something about him; she couldn’t help herself.

  His eyes, a blue so pure, mists and magic inside them. I’m her, he’s holding me, and we’re dancing. And she’s falling, spinning, on fire…

  I pull away from her memory. There are some things you don’t want to share with your mother.

  Then, when she found she was pregnant with me, she ran away—she left Scotland to get away from him. She was starting to see that he wasn’t right. Not just for her, but in a more general way: there was a wrongness inside him.

  Yes. Kai’s stepfather—the one he hates—is my father.

  Aunt Addy helped her. Wonderful Aunt Addy, who left us her house when she died. She who wrote poetry about the lochs and sang to the birds.

  We didn’t come back to Scotland until Mum knew for sure that Alex didn’t own his house by the loch anymore: his ex-wife got it in their divorce settlement. That’s why she was there with her daughter, Calista.

  I’m shocked when I realize—when I put it all together: Calista and I have the same father. She’s my half sister.

  No. My father doesn’t know about me.

  The random rock fan at a Knack concert was her cover story.

  Couldn’t she have come up with something better?

  What could be better than being made at a rock concert?

  We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.

  We drift in and out of each other’s memories and dreams.

  CHAPTER 24

  CALLIE

  THERE IS A GIANT MAP ON THE WALL, with colored pins. Blue for isolated cases. Red for ten or more. Black for a hundred or more. Newcastle, Aberdeen, and Edinburgh are so black with pins they cannot be seen.

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” Mum mutters to herself, and then says something in German. I don’t know the words, but I can tell she is swearing by the way she says them.

  Kai is there, half-asleep in a chair. “Maybe it’ll make more sense if you get some sleep?”

  “How many more people will die while I sleep? How can I sleep?”

  Kai sits up properly. “Tell me. What doesn’t make sense?” he says, and she gives him an impatient look. “Maybe if you state the problem out loud, you will see it more clearly.”

  She nods. “Well, it seems to skip entire places or just affect them lightly, like Dunbar, Alnmouth.” She points at them on the map. “Others—well, Newcastle is now worse than Aberdeen, where it started. Why does it spread so quickly in some places, and slowly in others?”

  Kai gets up and stares at the map.

  “Could it be something to do with the train?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He points. “Travel by train from Aberdeen to Newcastle, and you stop in Edinburgh. Aberdeen, Edinburgh, and Newcastle are the worst affected.” He studies the map. “And many of the places where there were small outbreaks are near the east coast train line.”

  The tiredness leaves Mum’s eyes. Her face is animated as she traces the train line among the pins. “So could there be a number of people who have traveled this route who are contagious? But why wouldn’t they move on to other train lines? Why wouldn’t it spread further? Unless…” She grabs Kai and gives him a hug. “You’re a genius, as I’ve always said.”

  “Well, of course! But you’ve lost me.”

  “This only makes sense if there is a person or persons who are carriers who have traveled this path. They were in Aberdeen for a while: the first outbreak. Also in Edinburgh: second outbreak, but they can’t have been there as long since so far it is more limited, to around the university and the train station. Then Newcastle, and the outbreak is now the worst here, because here they have stayed. Thus the outbreak hasn’t spread farther south, other than in sporadic small numbers of cases. What if there is a Typhoid Mary? Someone who carries the disease but isn’t infected by it themselves? Places where they’ve stayed, it spreads rapidly, directly from them; other places where it is spread by other infected individuals, it spreads differently, more slowly. As those who are infected die quickly, these cases can be contained by quarantine more easily.”

  She stares intently at the map.

  “But if there were some Typhoid Marys, as you call them, why wouldn’t they die themselves?” Kai asks. “Are they immune? We’re immune, and we don’t seem to give it to anyone else.”

  “Those who are immune, like us, are not carriers. This has been established, as they’ve been around others who hadn’t otherwise been exposed without incident—many of whom died later in outbreaks, so they can’t have been immune themselves. This person—or persons—we are talking about here must be something very different. Now, what we need to do is find out where the very first cases took place; find out who was there and was also in Edinburgh and is still in Newcastle now.”

  “Do you think if you can find this person, you can stop the spread?”

  “Perhaps; perhaps not. We must try. The most important thing we need to know now is this: where and when did it start? Was it in Aberdeen, or somewhere else? We need to know the precise time zero of the outbreak. From there, pray that the rest may follow.”

  Mum bustles off to talk to the not-very-senior officer, to call the centers in Aberdeen and Edinburgh. She promises to have a nap once she has done so.

  I sigh. If only she could hear me, I would tell her it started underground in Shetland; it wasn’t in Aberdeen at all.

  Kai takes out his phone. He texts Shay: Hello, still enjoying your vacation from school? If you’ve heard things are bad in Newcastle, don’t worry. Mum and I are fine. K xx.

  Kai gets back into the armchair and is almost instantly asleep.

  CHAPTER 25

  SHAY

  I’M FOLDED UP IN A DRAWER NOW. I’ve pulled it closed. The pain fills the rest of the world.

  Hang on. You can do it, baby. Mum’s thoughts are inside me.

  I open my eyes.

  I love you, my Sharona, she says, and for once I don’t say “Shay” back at her.

  I love you too, Mum. I think rather than say the words, like she did, but we can still hear them. They’re inside us.

  The sun is up again as she
kisses me goodbye. She sighs, her hand on my cheek. Then she drifts away.

  I’m utterly alone.

  I can’t keep the drawer shut any longer. Pain and tears are all I have left.

  CHAPTER 26

  CALLIE

  THE HELICOPTER LANDS IN THE FIELD behind the army base, not far enough away from where they’re burning the bodies. Smoke swirls in the air. I hear someone say it smells like a barbecue. Even though I can’t smell anything anymore, I stay away from the smoke: what if their ghosts are flying away inside it?

  Mum and Kai haven’t slept long enough. I didn’t even have time to get bored before someone came to rouse her. They told her that the immune passes would be here in a moment and that the trip had been arranged. It was time to go and find the survivor.

  “Are you sure you want to come, Kai?” Mum says. “I know I said I wanted you to, but you don’t have to. They’ve found a driver with a suit who can be spared.”

  He yawns and rubs his eyes. “I’m coming. Don’t argue.”

  “I don’t know what we might see.”

  “Could it be worse than what we have already?”

  “Yes.”

  He stares at her, slowly nods. “Then you shouldn’t face it alone.”

  I’m proud of my brother: he’s brave, isn’t he? I’m not. I’d stay here if I wasn’t afraid something would happen to them if I didn’t keep them in sight.

  They are led out to the truck by a suited guard. Kai takes his phone out of his pocket as they walk, frowns, and puts it back.

  “Is something wrong?” Mum asks.

  He shrugs. “I’ve texted Shay. She hasn’t answered.”

  “She lives near Loch Tay, doesn’t she?” He nods. “There are no cases reported west of Perth. Maybe she’s just busy, or misplaced her phone.”

  “Yeah. That’s probably it.” He still looks worried, though.

  “I’ll check that the area is still clear.”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  They get in the truck.

  The driver is Bryson, the same one who collected them from the house when Martin died. That isn’t so long ago, but he’s changed: he seems to have lost his army starch.

  He grins inside his suit. “Are you ready for the magical mystery tour?” he says, and drives toward the gate.

  Kai’s hand grips the grab bar over the door; his knuckles are white. For all he said, he’s scared of what we might see.

  Mum is on her phone as we drive out the gate. “Sorry to trouble you, could I get an update on Perthshire and Stirlingshire? Yes. Uh-huh. And where is that? Thank you.” She hangs up and turns to Kai. “Killin and area are clear. The closest now is Stirling, and that is a small outbreak.”

  “Thanks for checking.”

  “Do you really like this girl?”

  “Mum. Another time.”

  Bryson whistles. “Have you got a girlfriend? If I’ve learned anything lately, it’s this: enjoy life while you can.”

  Before long there is a roadblock ahead. Bryson stops, rolls the window down, shows his ID and our papers, and we’re waved through.

  He’s on the radio and suddenly halts, reverses, and takes another turn. “There’s trouble that way. We’ve been told to divert.”

  “What sort of trouble?” Mum asks.

  “Attempted roadblock breach. I’m sorry; this way is safer but it isn’t very scenic. It’s been quarantined; cleared but not collected.”

  He doesn’t explain, and they don’t ask.

  He rounds a corner, and at the end of every second or third driveway, there are bodies. Piled up, haphazard. Arms and legs spill out. Bloody eyes stare at the sky. Old people, middle-aged, young. And this isn’t like the ones who deserved it underground, or even the still forms at the army camp. I want to look away, but I can’t. Babies or teenagers or grandparents, everyone is dead.

  Mum crosses herself, wordlessly praying. Kai’s eyes are fixed and staring straight ahead, as though if he stares at the road hard enough they’ll leave this place sooner, but my eyes can’t stop looking at the horror around us.

  We drive on, and Bryson starts whistling. Maybe he’s pretending he’s somewhere else. Mum jumps when he begins, but says nothing.

  * * *

  Bryson finds the right house. We’re in an area where the original residents have died and been cleared. Bryson tells us that the immune have been brought together here to keep them safe.

  “Safe from what?” Kai asks.

  He doesn’t answer at first, then says, “Sick people can be pretty desperate.”

  We knock on the door. An old man answers. “Yes? What do you want?”

  Bryson answers. “We heard that you know a survivor. We’d like to meet him.”

  “Right, I do know one. Invited him to come and stay, but he wouldn’t. Stayed out there, in his own house.”

  “What is the address?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Fred something.”

  Bryson and Mum exchange a glance. “How are we supposed to find him, then?” Bryson says.

  “Well, I don’t know the address, but I know where it is. I can show you. Are you sure you want to find him? He’s pretty odd. Says he can talk to dead people.”

  “Yes. We still want to find him.”

  He gets in the truck with us and directs us down one turn after another. Finally we stop at a small house. There’s a C on the door.

  “Means this area has been cleared,” Bryson says, and knocks. There’s no answer. He knocks again, then tries the door. The handle turns; he opens it.

  We step inside.

  “Not cleared very well,” Bryson says, looking up. A man hangs from the ceiling, a rope around his neck. “Is that him?” Bryson asks.

  The old guy looks up, his face ashen. “Yes. That’s Fred,” he says, and then backs out the door.

  “We need the body for postmortem,” Mum says.

  “Right,” Bryson says.

  Kai steps back outside too, breathing deeply. Bryson follows him, finds a ladder in a garden shed.

  “Do you need help?” Kai asks.

  Bryson grips his shoulder. “No. I’m as strong as an ox.”

  He cuts the body down. There seems to be a supply of body bags in the back of the truck, and Fred joins us for the drive back.

  “It’s so sad that he survived this infection and then hanged himself,” Kai says. “Why would he do that?”

  “Maybe he lost everyone he loved. Maybe he couldn’t handle it,” Bryson says.

  “We don’t know for sure he had it; he might have been immune,” Mum says.

  “He had it all right,” the old man says. “I saw him when he was sick. But it wasn’t that sort of sadness that did it. It was the dead people, all talking to him nonstop inside his head. It was driving him crazy—he told me so. Guess he couldn’t take it anymore.”

  Mum asks him more questions.

  I can tell she thinks it isn’t possible—talking to the dead—that Fred must have been not right in the head to think that he could. But I wish Fred were here without the body bag: maybe he could have talked to me.

  We drop the old man off and start to head back to the army base.

  Bryson’s radio beeps. “Yes? Okay.” He swears.

  “What’s wrong?” Mum asks.

  “Nothing, don’t worry. We’re being diverted. Again. This area hasn’t been cleared, but it should be okay.”

  He’s hypervigilant, looking every way at once as we drive. But it’s just a street, an ordinary road. No bodies are piled up; in fact, there are no people, period. A tumbleweed could rustle down the street and be right at home.

  But then we round a corner, and there’s a car crashed into a tree, smoke coming from the engine. A man inside it is hunched over the steering wheel.

  “Wait. He may be hurt,” Mum says.

  “I can’t stop; it’s too dangerous,” Bryson answers.

  “But I’m a doctor. I may be able to hel
p him. Stop now or I’ll open the door and jump out!”

  He hits the brakes. “Fine. Sure. Why not?” He turns and looks at Kai. “You, stay and watch the truck. I’ll cover her.” He’s got a gun in his hand.

  Mum is out of the truck and rushes to the crashed car. The car doors won’t open at the front, so she tries a back door. It opens. She climbs into the car and checks the driver.

  She backs out again, shaking her head.

  “Help me!” A girl is banging on the back door of our truck.

  Bryson looks between the truck and Mum, like he doesn’t know whether to run to Kai or stay with Mum. The girl goes around to Mum’s door on the other side; she didn’t lock it. The girl opens the door. That’s when I see she has a knife in her hand.

  I throw myself between her and Kai. Leave my brother alone!

  She screams. She can see me? That’s when I see the blood in her eyes. She’s dying.

  She strikes out with her knife—at me. There’s a weird feeling, like pressure—her knife goes through me and sticks into the car seat. She pulls it out of the seat and stares at me, at her knife. Kai has climbed out the door on his side; he’s gotten away.

  Bryson is here now and pulls the girl out of the truck. She struggles and strikes out at him.

  “Calm down, no one wants to hurt you,” Mum says, reaching them both, but the girl did want to hurt somebody and she has—the knife in her hand has stabbed through Bryson’s suit and into his arm. There’s blood.

  He lets her go. She staggers, falls. Her body arches in pain one last time, then lies still. She’s died of it, and now he will too.

  “I’m sorry, Bryson,” Mum says. “Let me see.”

  “It’s just a nick. It’s nothing.” But he knows what it means. He shrugs, and takes off his suit.

  Mum ties his arm to stop the blood, while he looks at the girl’s body and shakes his head.

  “She looks a little like my girlfriend,” Bryson says. “Dark hair, brown eyes. She’s dead. My girlfriend, I mean. My mother, father, sister, too. Everyone. Maybe I’ll get to be with them now. But what really bothers me is I never told my girl that I love her, and it’s too late.” He grabs Kai’s arm. “Don’t leave it too late.”