Whimper (11 page)

We waited until 2 to break for lunch, but it still took a bit of coercion to get Elliott to break away from what he was doing.

“Give me another half hour,” he mumbled when Brianna tried to get him to come upstairs with us.

Brianna rolled her eyes and smirked. “Fine. Zoe, you convince him to come upstairs. You’re far more likely to get a reaction from him than I am.” She headed up the basement stairs, leaving me staring at Elliott’s back. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard her or not. Was he waiting for me to do something or was he still focused on his slides and Petri dishes?

I wasn’t going to tiptoe around, that wasn’t me. I have too much fight in me. So, I walked up behind him and smoothed a hand over the planes of his shoulders. When he immediately stilled and leaned back a bit, I took it as an invitation to distract him a little more. “Are you ready to take a break?” I asked innocently, running my hands around his sides until my arms encircled his chest, my chest pressed against his back.

“I wasn’t, but I am now.” Elliott chuckled, leaning his head back to rest against my shoulder. I was standing practically on my tiptoes, while he was leaning back on a stool, but our size differences didn’t seem to matter at the moment. I loved the smooth firmness of his skin under my fingertips, and the smell of his messy blond hair. “Did you figure anything out?” I asked, rubbing my cheek against his.

“I found out that the football player was absolutely infected with my virus, and so far it doesn’t look like it has mutated. That’s very good news.”

“Good. Zack went to work on getting you lab access too. I’m surprised he’s not back yet actually. Let’s head upstairs and get some food into you and I’ll call him.” Elliott reluctantly pushed away from the card table and moved to the stair case with me.

The side door leading into the kitchen, the one we usually used since it was closest to the driveway and garage, slammed open just as we hit the top step. Zack pushed in, carrying grocery bags overflowing with food.

“You guys owe me big time for picking up supplies because the shit is hitting the fan out there. I’ve got six more bags in the van. I don’t know how soon we’ll be able to get more. Help me get it before somebody tries to take it.”

“What’s going on?” Elliott and I both demanded at the same time.

“Fuck if I know! There are white government vans and trailers all over the place and they’re saying that parts of campus are quarantined!” Zack dropped the bags on the countertop and we ran outside to grab the rest.

“Did something else happen?” I asked, grabbing a grocery sack and a case of pop.

“I don’t know, Zoe! I was trolling the dorms and the science complex calling in favors for you, not sitting at home watching the news! I got your lab access for tomorrow, but I don’t think that’s going to happen now. That part of campus is pretty much on lock down. I was lucky to get out when I did.”

Elliott was stone-faced, grabbing bags and hustling us back inside. Brianna stood on the porch, waiting for us. “What’s going on?” she asked anyone who would answer.

Once we were all inside, Zack pressed all the buttons to shut the house up tight, even the storm shields on the windows. The clanking racket was too loud for any of us to actually talk over, so we waited. Brianna tapped her foot impatiently and Elliott continued to glare at nothing in particular. When the grinding racket ceased, we all sort of stared at each other until everyone started talking at once.

Everyone was talking over one another and no one was answering me. Fed up, I latched onto Zack’s shoulder and gave him a little shake. Okay, it must not have been too “little” because his head bounced like a bobble head doll for a second. “Sorry,” I said brusquely. “Now tell me exactly what you saw on campus. I need to know what the vehicles looked like, what the people in them were wearing, everything you can think of.”

Zack rattled off what he’d witnessed and where, every word confirming what I’d already strongly suspected. The “clean-up” team from the CDC had arrived. That could mean only one thing. “We need to prepare. Things are about to get a whole lot worse around here.”

Zack and Zoe looked at each other skeptically. “If they’re here in force, shouldn’t that mean they’re here to stop the problem?” Zoe asked.

“They’re not here to help. They’re here to control and spotlight the threat. They’re spreading fear and misinformation a little more at each site the virus has been released. If there are as many vehicles and boots on the ground as Zack says, then this is their biggest response yet,” Brianna explained, her voice thick with tension. “Elliott’s right. I’m sure all hell is about to break loose.”

Zack switched on the TV in the living room and we all drifted in to watch the unfolding news coverage of the
Breaking News: Health Crisis on University Campus.

“Can you record this?” I asked, studying the background in each shot as carefully as I could. We tried to count vehicles, but most of them seemed to be solid white vans without any Federal markings whatsoever. It was hard to tell if we were seeing the same vehicle several times or not. To the far left of the shot, there appeared to be a couple of tents set up. If the cameraman would only pan a little bit further out… I caught myself leaning, trying to see around the plastic edge of the TV screen. The camera zoomed out and finally I caught a glimpse of a few students being led into one of the tents.

“Fuck! They may be giving out vaccines,” I gasped, looking at Brianna.

“You two are going to have to stop speaking in code and start filling the rest of us in!” Zoe demanded, clearly impatient.

“We think the vaccines they’ve been giving are mainly placebos, except that a few of them are laced with the virus,” I answered gravely. I still couldn’t believe I put the bullet in the gun they were using to kill these kids.

Some sort of commotion outside of the camera’s range caused a group of campus officers to race past. One of them stopped to try to force the reporters back to their news van. “For your own safety, you need to go back to your vehicles. Now!” he ordered, glancing over his shoulder and unsnapping the holster on his waist. “Get back!” he screamed again, before running away.

The camera jostled around, revealing the officers fighting with a heavyset lady who looked like she might have been a librarian or a nurse before the virus kicked in. Now she looked like a demonic, half-naked librarian or nurse. She was actually snarling at the officers, tearing at them with her fingernails and trying to claw and bite her way free. She was dripping in blood. My mind spun cataloguing all the possible points of contagion going on there.

Zack broke the stunned silence. “Uh, Zoe? I think it’s time we get out the Holy Shit Preparedness Kit. I’m thinking this qualifies.” Gunshots rang out on the TV and the footage quickly cut away to an unprepared news anchor, who fumbled and apologized for the graphic video.

The three of us turned to stare at Zack. “What the hell are you talking about?” Zoe asked her twin.

“You know, the survival kit. Great-Grandpa McGuire started it and everybody has added to it along the way. Uncle Rick called it ‘The Holy Shit Preparedness Kit.’ He added grenades! He was really freaking proud of that. Said there was no way I was going to top it. I’ve been thinking though…” Zack stopped talking when he realized that he was rambling and everyone was still staring at him like he’d grown a third eye. “What?”

“Are you shitting me?” Zoe looked like she was about to stab her brother. She actually looked pretty hot when she was angry. “I spent three hours searching this house. I never came across any grenades. Although a heads-up that that was a possibility would have been nice!”

“Sorry,” Zack shrugged. “It was our guy thing. I figured you knew anyway.”

“So where is it?” my sister chimed in. She was more intrigued than angry. “Please don’t tell me it’s in the attic.”

Zack rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? It’s a fucking inferno in the attic this time of year. I’m not sweating my balls off up there. It’s in the secret room. Ow!” he wailed, rubbing the shoulder his sister had just delivered a hard right to. “What the hell did I do to deserve that?” he moaned.

I didn’t really know either, but I suspected it had something to do with the girls’ wardrobe change earlier. Either way, Zack might have something we could use later. I couldn’t imagine a scenario where we’d actually
need
grenades, but I wasn’t about to complain. I’d had my own GI Joe dreams when I was a kid.

“Let’s get the groceries put away and eat something first, then you can show us this ‘secret room’ in my own home that I know
nothing
about,” Zoe complained, grabbing my hand to pull me from the arm of the couch. I could have resisted, but why? Any time this beautiful girl wants to touch me or feed me, I’m game.

“So, I think you and I should probably talk about a few things tonight,” she said softly enough that only I could hear as we walked into the kitchen. Brianna was busy fussing over Zack anyway, so I doubt either of them really cared.

“Sure,” I answered cautiously, staring at our linked hands instead of making eye contact. Did she want us out? Things had suddenly gotten a whole lot riskier. The Feds might even be looking for Brianna now, maybe even me if they’d figured things out. I wasn’t even sure that I should put Zoe in this position, but we didn’t have anywhere else to go. With those white vans everywhere, the chance that I might be recognized was pretty damn good. “Should, um. Should I start packing stuff up?” I asked, keeping my back to Brianna so that she might not hear. She was pretty calm right now, but typically when the CDC wheeled into town she launched into full panic mode and insisted we move out immediately. I wasn’t willing to run this time.

“Don’t be a martyr. I’m not asking you to go anywhere,” Zoe teased gently. “But I want in on the battle plan. I can see it on your face. You’re up to something. I want to help.”

I bit my lip and held my tongue. The plan I was working on was barely formed, but sure to be extremely dangerous. “We’ll talk about it,” I allowed, feeling a cold shiver of apprehension even from agreeing to that. I was already infected, I’d become pretty comfortable with the idea that my life was on the line and that my time was running short. Well, not
comfortable
, but I’d learned to accepted it. I was my own personal Grim Reaper after all.

The local news continued to blare from the TV in the other room, but no one was really paying attention to it. It was recording, in case there was a tidbit we needed to review later. I forced myself to choke down a cold meat sandwich and some kind of soup in order to keep everyone else off my case about eating. I wasn’t in the mood to get a lecture from Bri about keeping up my strength.

“Do you think they’re going to notice this house?” Brianna asked from across the table. “I mean, it kind of sticks out anyway, but I’m sure it attracts attention when it’s locked up like Fort Knox.”

She had an excellent point. It wasn’t likely that anyone else from the CDC would put together the historical possibilities of the place, but it did look awfully out of place. They might mistake it for some other kind of stronghold, like a cult or some kind of wacky fundamentalist group’s hideout.

“The locals will vouch for us,” Zoe answered calmly. “This house has been here forever and we use the different gadgets pretty often to keep them working. Everyone is used to it, so it’s just kind of one of those local oddities now. Even if they question about it, no one else will be at all concerned.”

I hoped she was right. Brianna seemed reassured and that was what was really important at this point. I smiled gratefully at Zoe and sipped the last of my soup. I didn’t need Brianna to lose it. Not when this might be my last stand. Maybe if she stayed here with Zack and Zoe I could even keep her safe.

After we ate, Zack led us all up to the second floor, chortling obnoxiously about how I’d grown up within feet of a secret weapons stash and never had a clue. Sure enough, the curved corridor had a piece of wainscoting that pulled away, revealing a dark, hollow cavity within the wall. Zack knelt and flipped on a light switch inside, revealing about ten feet of metal shelving standing taller than my head along the interior wall. The hidey hole was packed with boxes and bags, all neatly labeled. There was no way the men in
my
family had put this together. Zack couldn’t even separate his own laundry and Uncle Rick couldn’t keep the pantry organized enough to prevent canned food avalanches every time we opened the door. How could I possibly have not known about this?