They pulled into the driveway and killed the headlights. At Jesse’s insistence, they waited for another few minutes to see if there were any changes in the neighboring homes or vehicles parked on the street. All seemed peaceful.
“Okay,” Jesse said. “Let’s go.”
They went in the front door, and Jonathan disappeared upstairs to his room. Jesse turned on the TV in the kitchen and found cold beer in the refrigerator. He offered one to Cassy and Pitt. Pitt accepted. The TV was tuned to CNN.
“This just in,” the reporter announced. “A few moments ago the White House canceled the multinational summit on terrorism, saying that the President has come down with the flu. Presidential press secretary Arnold Lerstein said that the meeting probably would have gone on as scheduled without the President except that, by coincidence, most of the other world leaders seemed to be suffering from the same illness. The President’s personal physician made the statement that he is convinced the President has the same ‘short’ flu that has been decimating Washington over the last few days and should resume normal duties in the morning.”
Pitt shook his head in dismay. “It’s taking over our whole civilization the same way a central nervous system virus takes over a host. It’s going for the brain.”
“We need a vaccine,” Cassy said.
“We needed it yesterday,” Jesse said.
The phone startled everyone. Cassy and Pitt looked at Jesse to see if they should answer it. Before Jesse could respond, Jonathan answered it upstairs.
Jesse charged up the stairs with Cassy and Pitt at his heels. He ducked into Jonathan’s room.
“Hold on,” Jonathan said into the phone, seeing the others. He told everyone that it was Dr. Miller.
“Put her on the speakerphone,” Jesse suggested.
Jonathan pushed the button.
“We are all here,” Jesse said. “You’re on a speakerphone. How did you fare?”
“Miserably,” Sheila admitted. “They led us on. It took several hours before I realized that they were all infected. The only thing they were interested in was how we’d found out what was going on.”
“Christ!” Jesse mumbled. “Was it hard to get away? Did they try to detain you?”
“Not initially,” Sheila said. “We told them we were just going to a motel to get some sleep. They must have followed us because they intercepted us on our way to the airport.”
“Was there trouble?” Jesse asked.
“There was,” Sheila admitted. “I’m sorry to say we lost Eugene.”
The group looked at each other. Everyone had a different interpretation of what “lost” meant. Jesse was the only one who knew for certain.
“Have you looked for him?” Jonathan asked.
“It was like the hospital room,” Sheila said. “If you know what I mean.”
“What hospital room?” Jonathan asked. He was getting panicky.
Cassy put her arm around Jonathan’s shoulder.
“Where are you?” Jesse asked.
“At the Atlanta airport,” Sheila said. “Nancy is in kind of a bad way as you might guess, but we’re coping. We’ve decided to come home, but we need someone to call up and prepay some tickets for us. We’re afraid to use our credit cards.”
“I’ll do that right away,” Jesse said. “We’ll see you as soon as you get back.”
Jesse hung up and dialed the airline ticket office. While he was making the arrangements, Jonathan asked Cassy directly if something had happened to his father.
Cassy nodded. “I’m afraid so,” she said. “But I don’t know what. You’ll have to wait until your mother comes back to find out more.”
Jesse hung up the phone and looked at Jonathan. He tried to think of something kind to say, but before he was able he heard the sound of skidding tires. From the front window came an intermittant flash of colored lights.
Running to the window Jesse parted the curtains. Outside in the street behind his car was a city police cruiser with its lights flashing. The uniformed occupants were just in the process of getting out, along with Vince Garbon. All had German shepherds on short leashes.
Other police department vehicles appeared, some marked, some not, including a paddy wagon. All pulled to a stop in front of the Sellers house and unloaded.
“What is it?” Pitt asked.
“The police,” Jesse said. “They must have been watching the place. I even see my old partner or what’s left of him.”
“Are they coming here?” Cassy asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Jesse said. “Kill all the lights.”
The group frantically raced around the house and turned out the few lights they had turned on. They ended up in the darkened kitchen. Flashlight beams from outside stabbed through windows. It was an eerie image.
“They must know we are here,” Cassy said.
“What are we going to do?” Pitt asked.
“I don’t think there’s much we can do,” Jesse said.
“This house has a hidden exit,” Jonathan said. “It’s through the basement. I used it to sneak out at night.”
“What are we waiting for?” Jesse said. “Let’s go!”
Jonathan led the way, carrying his laptop. They moved slowly and silently, avoiding the flashlight beams that came in through the kitchen bay window. Once they got to the cellar stairs and had closed the door, they felt a bit less vulnerable. But it was difficult going because of the absolute darkness. They were not willing to put on any light because the cellar had several small windows.
They moved in single file. They all hung onto each other to avoid getting lost. Jonathan led them to the back wall of the basement. Once there he opened a massive door that rumbled on its hinges. Cool air flowed out over their ankles.
“In case you are wondering what this is,” Jonathan said, “it’s a bomb shelter that was built back in the fifties. My parents use it as a wine cellar.”
They all entered and Jonathan told whoever was last to close the door. It settled into its jamb with a solid thump.
As soon as the door was closed, Jonathan switched on a light. They were in a cement passageway lined with wood shelving. A few cases of wine were haphazardly scattered about.
“This way,” Jonathan said.
They came to another door. Beyond the second door was a step down into a room twelve feet square with bunk beds and an entire wall of cupboards. There was also a well head and a tiny bathroom.
A second chamber had a kitchen. Beyond the kitchen was another solid door. This door lead to another corridor that eventually led outside to a dry river bed behind the Sellerses’ house.
“Well, I’ll be!” Jesse commented. “Just like the escape route from an old medieval castle. I love it.”
15
9:45 A.M.
“Nancy,” Sheila called gently. “We’re here.”
Nancy’s eyes popped open, and she awoke with a start. “What time is it?” she asked, orienting herself to place and person.
Sheila told her.
“I feel awful,” Nancy said.
“You and me both,” Sheila said.
They had spent the night on the move in the Harts-field Atlanta International Airport, constantly afraid they would be recognized. Boarding their flight in the wee hours of the morning had been a relief of sorts. Neither had slept for forty hours. Once airborne they had fallen into a deep sleep.
“What am I going to say to my son?” Nancy asked, not really expecting an answer. Every time she thought about the fiery disappearance of her husband, tears came to her eyes.
The women gathered their things and made their way off the plane. They were paranoid of everyone and were sure people were staring at them. When they emerged from the jetway, Nancy saw Jonathan and rushed to him. They hugged silently for several minutes while Sheila greeted Jesse, Pitt, and Cassy.