She was trapped, no way to get around the parked cars and hide without drawing attention. The best she could do was sink down to the street, and act like she was one of the corpses that littered the city. Dropping quickly, she turned her head so that she was facing the parked car, and froze.
The car on the road rushed past her without even the slightest hint of slowing. As soon as the sound of its engine faded, Jabala stood back up, and started to move the motorcycle away from the car, but stopped. She’d been lucky that time, but she might not be so lucky if it happened again.
Like it or not, it was time to walk.
Sanjay and Kusum decided the best method for getting everyone out was for the two of them to escort the remaining detainees in small groups to the hole in the wall, where Arjun would help them through from the compound side to Darshana waiting on the city side.
The actual guiding of people to the hole went smoothly. Convincing them they needed to leave was the problem. Most still clung to the belief they were in the hands of the UN, and would soon be given the vaccine. But even the most die-hard of those was troubled by the way they’d been treated since they’d arrived, so while some did put up a fight, in the end they all agreed to go.
When the last person from the first holding area was safely on the other side of the wall, Sanjay turned toward the interior of the compound.
“Where are you going?” Kusum said, grabbing his arm.
“There are still more people back there,” he replied, pulling the wire cutters out of his bag. Where did she think he was going?
“No,” she said, pulling him toward the wall.
“What do you mean, no? We cannot leave them here. You said so yourself.”
“Sanjay, the ones in the other area are all showing signs of the flu. Darshana and Arjun saw several of them brought in earlier.”
So that was the difference, he thought. She was right. They couldn’t risk escorting them out. While he, Kusum, Darshana, and Arjun had been vaccinated, the people they’d rescued had not. Any exposure to the disease was likely to kill them all.
Still, how could they do nothing?
“Give me five minutes,” he said.
“Sanjay, they are sick already. We can’t take them with us.”
“I understand, and we won’t. But I’m not going to leave them locked in there.”
Knowing she would continue trying to dissuade him, he pulled from her grasp and hurried around the debris pile. When he reached the second holding area, he immediately set to work cutting an opening in the outer fence. This time, instead of creating a flap, he cut out the entire section and laid it on the ground.
He then did the same for the inner fence. He contemplated entering the barracks and telling them about the way out, but he feared he would pick up traces of the flu and carry them back to the others, so those who were inside would have to find the holes on their own.
He had hoped Kusum had gone under the fence to join the others, but she was still waiting at the wall when he returned.
“Go, go,” he whispered, motioning her toward the hole.
She didn’t move.
“What are you waiting for? Go,” he said.
“What did you do?”
“I cut a hole in their fence, that’s all.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head in disapproval, but she couldn’t help from grinning. When she looked at him again, she placed a hand on his cheek. “You are a good man.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth, dropped down, and crawled through the hole.
Omar woke in a fit of coughing.
“No,” he silently pleaded, after the spasms stopped.
He’d seen the symptoms in others countless times in the last week, and though he’d somehow been able to avoid the flu for over a week, he knew his luck had run out.
He’d woken up with a headache the previous morning. That’s what finally spurred him into going to the survival station. Until that point, he’d been too afraid to journey across the city and risk exposing himself to the disease. He wasn’t quite sure how vaccines worked, but they were still effective even if you were already ill, weren’t they?
When he arrived, he tried to mask how he felt, but somehow the soldiers had figured it out, because not only had he not gotten a shot, but they had put him into what was basically a prison, with others who seemed also ill. Oddly, only a dozen or so meters away from their enclosure was another where those who still seemed healthy were placed.
He was angry he’d been locked up, but he could at least understand it. Why the UN would lock up those uninfected made no sense to him. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter anymore. The detention pen he was in was where he’d die.
As he coughed again, someone shouted a weak “shut up.”
Thinking maybe a little fresh air would help, he shuffled through the barracks and out the door. He had no idea what time it was. He only knew it was still night.
His need to cough was replaced by an urge to pee. Having no desire to return to the barracks to use the facilities there, he walked around the back of the building and zipped down his pants. He watched the stream of water turn the dirt to mud for a moment, and then his gaze began to wander, his mind all but blank.
Several seconds passed before he realized what he was looking at. Not the chain links of the fence, but a square hole cut into the barrier. He bent down and looked through the hole. There was another missing section on the outside fence.
A way out.
This cage didn’t have to be the place where he died.
He could go home and lie down on the bed next to his dead wife.
He almost stepped through the opening then and there, but he remembered the old man, Mr. Kapur, who also talked of a wife he’d left behind. Omar was not so sick that he couldn’t take the time to let the man know about the opportunity. What Mr. Kapur decided to do then would be his business.
Decision made, Omar headed back into the barracks, content in the thought that very soon he’d be on his way home.
Senior manager Dettling woke to the sound of someone pounding on his door.
“Mr. Dettling? Are you awake?” van Assen, his assistant asked.
Dettling threw back his covers and sat up. “What is it?”
“Sir, the detainees have escaped.”
Dettling, already rising to his feet, froze for half a second. “They what?”
“Someone let them out. There are holes in the fences.”
Dettling walked quickly to the door and pulled it open. “Which pen?”
“Both, sir. We caught some from the infected group trying to get out. Four of them are still missing.”
“And the others?”
Van Assen looked uncomfortable. “The uninfected detention area is empty. They’re gone, sir.”
“They can’t be gone.”
“I have people searching the compound, but so far they haven’t found any of them.”
If the uninfected warned others to stay away, the Mumbai recovery operation could turn into a failure. “Have you sent out search parties?”
“Not yet.”
“What are you waiting for? Do it! Now!”
Jabala discovered the Mumbai survival station purely by accident. She knew she must’ve been getting close, but when she reached the next corner, she had not expected to see its gates right there in front of her.
She jumped back out of sight, hoping she hadn’t been seen, and pressed herself against the side of the building. When she was finally able to get her panic under control, she realized the street was still quiet. They had not seen her.