“Three week-” she began in a furious tone, but Hal was already nodding to the relief worker to hang up. She wasted no time doing so.
“Sorry,” he told Ellie, looking at the ground. “I guess now you see how she is.”
She supposed she did; she had to admit part of her had wondered if Hal's relationship with his mom was a mark against him, but it seemed more reasonable now. She patted his arm. “Now we know the power's off in KC.”
He looked relieved at her letting him off the hook about her mom's outrageous insult. “That might be why you couldn't get ahold of your ex,” he said. “He probably turned off his phone to save the battery.” He frowned. “I should've told Mom to do the same.”
With some effort, Ellie resisted the urge to say she wouldn't be too heartbroken if that woman's phone died and Hal wasn't able to talk to her anymore.
Cathy cleared her throat. “Sorry, but we should get you guys to your enclosure.”
Nodding, Ellie joined her friend as they followed the relief worker out of the tent, then down the rows of cages to their prison for the next five days.
Hold it together, Nick. It's only three weeks . . . you've got this.
He'd better, since there was no other option.
Chapter Eighteen: Separated
“. . . let them know I love them.” Click.
Nick turned off his phone then sat staring at it in the growing dark, a hollow feeling in his gut. Ellie wasn't coming. She'd been his last fleeting hope of caring for the kids while he was trapped in quarantine, and now he didn't know what he was going to do.
What could he do? Just assume he didn't have Zolos because he hadn't shown any symptoms, and hope for the best? With the lives of his children at stake? He was almost done with the four days when he'd expect to get sick, and like his scare at the school and store on that first day, he'd done his time with no reason to believe he was carrying the virus.
Then again that was probably what the third of the country who were dead or dying, as well as the seventh or so of the world's population, had thought. Look at how that had turned out for them.
What was he going to do?
Nick closed his eyes, took a steadying breath, then climbed out of his office chair and shambled over to the door. “Kids!” he called firmly. “I just got a message from your mom!”
Their rush to the other side of the door was so enthusiastic that he heard them even barefoot on the carpet. “Did you call her back?” Ricky shouted. “Is she on the phone?”
It was physically painful to have to disappoint them. “She told me she's staying at a camp. They're going to take care of her and keep her safe, but she has to stay there for three weeks.”
“A quarantine camp?” Ricky asked anxiously. “Is she sick?” Tallie started to cry.
“No, she's fine!” Nick tried not to shout. “They're just keeping her there to make sure she doesn't get sick, okay?”
His son wasn't done with the uncomfortable questions. “Mom was going to come and take care of us. What do we do now?”
“We'll have to work even harder to take care of ourselves,” Nick replied. “Let's talk about what else we need to do now that we know she's not coming for a while.”
“What if I can't?” Ricky whined. “I can barely do all the stuff you try to tell me to do right now.” He started crying, and because he was Tallie started up again too.
“You can,” he assured his son. “You're doing great.”
“No I'm not!” Moments later he heard a bedroom door slam.
Nick bit back a curse and leaned his forehead against the door. While he was sitting like that, struggling to deal with his mounting frustration and hopelessness, he heard Tallie's tiny voice, still full of tears. “Daddy, I know you're being cor-cor and teened right now, but can you take a break and spend some time with me? I'm lonely and Ricky always tells me to go away when I want to cuddle.”
His heart broke at the pain in his daughter's voice. “You know I can't, sweetie. But how about you get your blanket and pillow and come lie down by the door, and we can talk for a bit.”
“They're already here,” she said morosely. She sniffled. “I want Mommy to come back.”
“I know, Tallie,” he said quietly, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Me too. But she'll be gone for another three weeks, and there's nothing we can do about it.”
◆◆◆
Being locked in a cage for the foreseeable future . . . wasn't as bad as Ellie had expected.
Sure, before long she knew she'd be climbing the chain link walls and ceiling, or even trying to outright gnaw through them, if not from desperation to get back to her children then out of sheer boredom. But that hadn't hit yet.
What had hit was the relief, guilty as it was considering her need to get home, of not having to hike until she dropped from exhaustion. Not having to go hungry or thirsty or freeze or sunburn. Of being able to catch up on much needed sleep, even on an uncomfortable cot, and let her dead muscles rest and begin to heal.
Cathy made sure they got a meal within half an hour of being locked in, brought around by a camp worker in a hazmat suit. It was soup, watery and not particularly filling, and definitely nothing any half decent cook would put their name to, and packets of crackers that probably didn't add much nutritional value. Although they did provide some much needed salt for the bland soup.
It was simultaneously the least enjoyable meal Ellie had ever eaten, and the most delicious. She supposed there was something to the saying that hunger was the best spice.
Along with the food they were each provided a two-liter jug of water, fresh from some tap but not overly chlorinated or filled with other junk like some tap water she'd tasted while traveling. To be honest it was better than what she drank at home, which was something.
Once her belly was full for the first time in she couldn't remember how long, exhaustion hit her like a lead blanket, pulling her down onto her cot with a groan of relief. She rolled herself into the thin, scratchy blanket they'd provided and allowed herself to drift off, mumbling a sleepy “good night” to Hal even though it was still the middle of the day.
Ellie started awake to the sound of a cage door clanging shut. It turned out to be hers, Hal coming back escorted by a relief worker in a yellow hazmat suit. “Bathroom break,” he said as she blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat up. The sun was significantly lower in the sky, so she must've been out like a light for hours.
The relief worker paused in closing the door. “You need to go while I'm here?” he asked, voice muffled by his hood. “Next chance is in an hour, and until then if you have an, ah, emergency in your cell, you'll have to clean it up yourself.”
As it turned out, her bladder was uncomfortably full, and there was sort of a queasy feeling in her lower gut that suggested the bad soup she'd eaten earlier was in a hurry to work its way through her. “Yeah,” she mumbled, pushing to her feet and reaching for her shoes. “I probably should.”
As it turned out, a simple trip to the bathroom was a major hassle under quarantine procedures. At the bank of porta-potties she was directed to a dispenser for gloves, and once she had them on the relief worker gave her a container of chemical wipes. “Clean every surface you might possibly touch, before and after you do your business,” he said in a bored voice. “Then when you're done clean the outside of the wipe container too.”
On the plus side, the porta-potty was surprisingly modern, constantly ventilated and with an airtight flushing mechanism so there was barely even any odor. Presumably measures to keep airborne Zolos from spreading. Instructions on the back wall outlined steps for flushing, mainly closing the lid to prevent spray during flushing and then as the flushing mechanism was automatically sanitized.
Ellie probably went overboard wiping down every conceivable surface, even those that were supposed to be sanitized by the flushing mechanism. But after all, she was in a quarantine camp using toilets reserved for those most likely to be carrying Zolos, so maybe not.
A lazy, selfish part of her wanted to make a token effort and get out of there. After all, she was confident she wasn't carrying Zolos. But since that was the reason she'd been instructed to wipe the place down before using it, since she probably wasn't the only one who felt that way, her sense of personal responsibility wouldn't let her take any half measures that might affect others.
After all, Ellie couldn't be completely sure she was safe. And what if the next person to use this porta-potty was having a bathroom emergency and didn't have time to properly wipe the place down? She needed to faithfully follow the instructions for before and after use, because it only took two people making a mistake to turn one Zolos case into two, maybe even more.
And even the best people made mistakes. Helping people in the workplace deal with that reality with patience and supportiveness had been a major part of her job.
So she spent just as long readying it for the next user, then wiped down the outside of the wet wipes container. Job done, she gratefully ducked outside and discovered that the reason the relief worker had been so patient was because he'd just wandered off. One of the guards watching the porta-potties took her back to her cage, using his universal key to open the lock and let her inside. She was barely through before he slammed the door behind her and clicked the lock shut.
“Hey, you were way faster than me,” Hal said lightly as she kicked off her shoes. He was lounging on his cot, apparently twiddling his thumbs with nothing else to do.
“Really? Then you must've taken forever,” she shot back wryly as she settled onto her own cot. She was wide awake now, but it wasn't as if there was anything else to do.
Luckily, during their time together her friend had proven interesting and entertaining, so talking to him was a great way to pass the time. He had a way of sneaking wry humor into their conversations, so one second she'd be focused on the topic and the next she'd find herself laughing her head off.
Maybe it was because it was on both their minds, but they talked a lot about their families, Ellie's children and Hal's brothers and sister. Todd was the oldest of those, a couple years older than Ricky, then Linny, or Caroline, had just turned seven. The youngest, Denny, was about Tallie's age, and actually sounded like he had a lot of the same quirks as Ellie's daughter.
Whatever relationship her friend might have with his mom, he genuinely cared about his siblings. It was obvious in the smile he wore pretty much the entire time he talked about them, the amusing and heartwarming stories about the time he'd been able to spend with them.
He seemed equally charmed by Ellie's stories about Ricky and Tallie, and joked that they should arrange a playdate for the kids when they got back to KC. “It sounds like they'd get along great,” he concluded.
That put a bit of a damper on the conversation for her, the indirect reminder that they were three weeks away from getting home to their loved ones. And then only if they could somehow arrange transportation once they finally got out of the quarantine camp.
Thankfully, before the mood could turn gloomy a camp worker came around with dinner.
Ellie could only conclude that the camp had small meals for lunch and probably breakfast, but made up for it with a good solid dinner. They were given two frozen hamburgers each, not large but big enough, heated piping hot in foil wrappers. They were also each given an apple, a carrot, and a bottle of soda. There were even candy bars for dessert.
“We should save what food we can in case of an emergency,” Hal said, suiting his words by tucking his soda and candy into the duffel bag the relief worker had provided for the spare change of clothes, blanket, and toiletries she'd provided him.
Ellie was famished, but she heartily agreed with the idea. Days of starving had driven home the firm resolution that she never wanted to be in that situation again if she could avoid it, and anyway on the way into the camp she'd been wondering how stable the mood here was. If a riot or Zolos breakout caused the relief workers to stop providing food, or even forced them to flee the camp entirely, it would be good to have extra supplies.
Ditto with the spare clothes and blankets and water bottles they'd been given; having to walk away from the faucet in that rest area, with no way to store any of that water for the trip, had driven home once again just how incredibly useful even something as simple as a water bottle was.
As the sun set and darkness fell, loudspeakers across the camp announced that the nightly movie would be starting soon. It was projected onto a big white cloth on the western end of the camp, pretty much as far away from the cages as possible. Which became readily apparent as the screen flickered to life, the images on it joined by faint, tinny sounds she could barely make out.
Ellie patted her cot, which had the best view of the screen, in a silent invitation for Hal to come sit by her. The part of her that didn't want him to get the wrong idea warred with the part of her that had wanted to hold his hand in their little leafy burrow, and lost.
Besides, with the sun down it was starting to get chilly, and she knew from inadvertently cuddling with her friend that he was practically a human hot water bottle.
Hal settled down at the far end of the cot, giving her plenty of space. She was actually a bit disappointed by how much, then annoyed for feeling that. “Well, at least the clear plastic on our cage faces the projector screen, we can watch the movie from jail,” he said wryly. “Too bad it doesn't have subtitles.”
“I can pick out a word here and there,” Ellie said, trying to be optimistic. He chuckled, and they fell silent and watched.
At least for a few minutes. Then the young man shifted slightly, cleared his throat, and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, um, I wanted to talk about what happened earlier.”
It wasn't a stretch to guess what he was talking about, and Ellie tensed slightly; if he couldn't take the hint this was going to be an awkward movie. An awkward five days, even.
Especially since part of her was secretly glad he wasn't giving up so easily. She shoved that part down. “I thought we left things pretty clear.”
He looked calm but determined. “You did. But-”
“No buts,” she cut in sharply. “I didn't change my mind in a few hours. Whatever I might feel, it doesn't solve all the complications that come from such a large age difference.”
“So you feel something?” Hal said quickly. When she fumbled for an answer he gave her a hopeful smile; she'd be lying if she claimed to be unaffected by it, protests dying on her lips as he continued. “Then maybe there is something to talk about. I've spent my entire life overcoming problems. I don't see any as insurmountable, especially if it's something I really feel strongly about.” His voice became more intense in a way that made her heart pound. “Or someone.”
Ellie couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Because she wanted to, and she wanted to see what might happen if she did for long enough. Instead she pushed to her feet. “Then let's focus on the not-insurmountable problem of getting home. That's what we need to be worrying about right now.”
“Three weeks of forced confinement has sort of taken the urgency out of that,” he murmured patiently. He remained seated, looking up at her with those piercing green eyes of his. “El, you know I care about you. If you can honestly tell me you don't feel the same then that'll be the end of it, and I can resign myself to that.”
He paused for an agonizing few seconds, then continued quietly. “Can you honestly tell me that?”
Ellie couldn't hold his gaze and looked away. “This is a terrible time for this.”
“Will there e
ver be a better time with the world falling apart around us?” She had no answer for that, so he continued with deep feeling. “You're the most amazing woman I've ever met. I've never known anyone more determined, more intelligent and resourceful, more courageous . . .”
He paused, solemn eyes holding hers as if she was the only person in the world. As if nothing, not the end of society or the quarantine camp they were in or anything else, mattered in that moment but her. It made her heart pound even harder. “More beautiful,” he continued softly, with deep feeling. “After all we've been through together, Eleanor Feldman, I can't imagine loving anyone else.”
Love? She felt her face heating. “Hal,” she said, making her voice as gentle as she could, “we barely even know each other. And you're-”
“Younger than you,” he finished wryly. “That doesn't change what I feel.” He reached forward, hesitated, then took her hand and held it lightly. Giving her a chance to pull away again if she wanted.
She surprised herself by not doing so.
That seemed to embolden Hal a bit. “I'm not blind to the obstacles. The age difference means we've experienced entirely different things in our lives, have different perspectives and priorities. And you have children, and a complicated relationship with your ex. And people would probably judge us for being together. If things were normal our relationship might be pretty much doomed from the start.”
He gently squeezed her hand, sending a thrill through her, and his voice gained intensity. “But things aren't normal, Ellie. We can't be sure we'll even be alive next week, and even if we are the world might never be the same again. I barely cared about busybodies judging me when society still functioned, why worry about what people might think when the world of last week hardly even exists anymore? I don't want to die knowing I had a chance to be with you and didn't take it.”
Isolation (Book 1): Shut In Page 31