Isolation (Book 2): Going Out Read online

  Dawn actually caught him by surprise, the gradual lightening of the room through the window until the candle was no longer necessary. The rising sun didn't shine directly inside, but he could tell when it topped the horizon by the abrupt warm glow that filled his room.

  As the indirect sunlight bathed his daughter's face, Nick abruptly became aware of something he'd completely missed until now. His breath caught, barely daring to hope, and he set aside the mirror he'd been using for one of his regular checks to confirm she was still breathing.

  Hurrying to grab a clean cloth with shaking hands, he dampened it with clean water and gently cleaned around Tallie's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

  It took a few more minutes to confirm, but when it did he gave a happy shout.

  “What is it?” Ricky yelled from his room, sounding groggy but fearful.

  He felt a bit bad about waking his son, but then again Ricky would want to know the news about his sister. “I think Tallie's stopped bleeding!” he called back.

  “Really?” The eight-year-old's voice cracked with emotion. “I-Is she going to be okay now?”

  “It's a good sign, that's for sure.”

  Nick hastily got to work bathing Tallie and throwing away her bloody pads. They had far less on them than the previous ones, supporting his hope that the bleeding had stopped from all orifices. Even so, he folded new pads for her as he changed her into clean clothes, as much so he could check later to make sure the bleeding really had stopped as to catch any in case it hadn't.

  Then he pressed his cheek gently against his daughter's cool, sweaty forehead and broke down weeping.

  In spite of his stolen hours of sleep he was beyond exhausted, having stayed up for days before that without rest. But he couldn't allow himself to so much as close his eyes for fear he'd pass out again.

  Not yet. Not until she was a little stronger.

  After giving himself a few minutes to let his emotions flow freely, Nick forced himself to sit up again and dribbled a bit more water into her mouth, getting her to swallow a few more mouthfuls. Then he wearily shuffled out of his room, stopping a cautious distance from his son's room.

  Almost miraculously considering Ricky had lived with two Zolos carriers for days, sharing air and probably floors and other surfaces without realizing the true danger, he'd gone all this time without showing any symptoms. Nick wasn't about to fully relax yet, but that certainly seemed like a hopeful sign.

  Right now he was willing to embrace it. “You there, buddy?” he called.

  There was a soft shuffling sound from his son's room, followed by a light thump. “Where else would I be?” the eight-year-old complained.

  Nick smiled wearily, although he sympathized with Ricky's plight. “I know I haven't had time to help you out as much as you needed. You managing everything in there?”

  “Not really.” His son hesitated, then rallied. “But I'll be okay while you're helping Tallie.”

  Nick felt a surge of pride. “You've been doing great through all this, son,” he said quietly. “I know it's been really hard, but we'll all get through this.”

  “Okay.” Another pause. “When can I come out?”

  He winced. “Not for weeks, kiddo. We need to make absolutely sure me and Tallie can't get you sick before you can even be in the same room as us.”

  “I don't have enough food to last that long!” Ricky whined. “Or water. And my poop bucket's getting really gross. And all my clothes are dirty.”

  Nick closed his eyes, feeling like he was being buried beneath the tide of everything he had to deal with when Tallie needed his complete attention.

  But she was alive, and so far Ricky seemed safe and healthy. That was all that mattered.

  “We'll figure it all out,” he whispered. “We've got this. Just give me a few more days to get your sister well on her way to recovery, and I'll figure out a way to improve things for you in there without risking you getting sick.”

  He heard a loud thump, no clue what from, and his son spoke sullenly. “This is like being grounded, except I didn't do anything wrong.”

  Nick bit back annoyance at what felt to him like selfish whining; Ricky had been out of sight, practically out of contact since they hadn't had many chances to speak, ever since he brought Tallie home from the hospital. While so consumed by his daughter's problems it was easy to forget just how difficult this must be for an eight-year-old boy, alone and frightened and worried for his sister.

  “I know, bud,” he said gently. “But better grounded than fighting for your life. We'll get you through this without getting sick, we just need to be extra careful.”

  There was no reply. He waited a few seconds, then forced some energy into his voice. “I need to get back to your sister. Hang in there, okay?”

  “Fine,” Ricky said grudgingly. “But I'm going to toss this bucket out the window and use something else.”

  “Probably a good idea.” With a weary sigh, Nick turned and shuffled back into his room, slumping down on his chair beside the bed and reaching out to take Tallie's hand again.

  ✽✽✽

  Maeve Pickson stared dully at the ground, making no effort to wipe at the tears streaming down her face. “It's just too hard,” she mumbled. “I keep wondering what's the point of even trying, you know? Connor and Mel are gone, and so is the rest of my family. I'll probably join them catching it as soon as I'm out of this camp, anyway . . . I kind of wonder if that wouldn't be better.”

  The grieving woman took a shuddering breath, clenched her fists on her knees, and continued in a whisper. “Sometimes I wonder if there's a less painful way to go than Zolos.”

  Ellie wished she could hug her, or at least put a comforting hand on her arm. But they were all seated ten feet apart, which made the support group circle ridiculously huge; considering how softly Maeve was speaking, most of the people on the far side of it probably couldn't even hear her.

  But at least she was opening up, which was something. Ellie just wished she had more experience in grief counseling.

  How did she help someone who'd so obviously given up?

  “You're here,” she told the woman gently, speaking loudly and clearly so everyone could hear. “And we're here for you. You aren't alone.”

  Maeve jerked her head in what might have been a nod, expression not quite disbelieving as she continued to stare at the ground. She seemed done, and probably more than ready to have the spotlight taken off her, so Ellie turned to the young man beside her. “Do you feel up to sharing your story?”

  He hesitated. “Maybe next time,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

  Well, at least he was talking about a next time.

  That took them to the end of the circle, and they'd been at this for a while now, so she looked around at everyone one last time. “Is there anyone else who has anything they'd like to share?”

  Nobody seemed to, judging by the silence and people shifting as they prepared to stand. So Ellie stood as well, making her voice brisk. “I'm glad you all chose to join us, and grateful for those willing to share their experiences. I'll be available for the next little while if anyone wants to talk in a more personal setting. Otherwise, I hope to see you here at this same time the day after tomorrow.”

  A few people drifted over to her as the group dispersed. She'd hoped to encourage those too uncomfortable to share with the group to open up to her directly, but mostly it was people who'd already done so and wanted a sympathetic ear as they continued to express their grief.

  Part of that was probably because people looking for a private setting weren't going to be particularly encouraged by having to speak from at least ten feet apart, at a normal tone passersby would overhear more easily. Ellie couldn't blame them for being reluctant to open up under those circumstances.

  It wouldn't be the first time the precautions they were taking for Zolos had been an obstacle. The first couple days' exercise sessions had been only sparsely attended, she could only guess because it was a lot les
s appealing for people who knew they wouldn't be able to get a shower afterwards. Unless of course it was their shower day, at which point they'd have to go through the entire decontamination rigmarole while already tired and sore.

  Heck, they didn't even have access to clean towels to wipe their faces, unless they'd brought one with them to the camp.

  Then there was the fact that everyone refused to step anywhere close to where other people had been exercising, in case they became exposed to sweat or anything else that might carry Zolos. That meant she and Hal had needed to space things out to a ridiculous degree, in a square with the sparse attendees facing them in the middle. That way everyone could walk directly away from the others after the exercising was done.

  And the school sessions each day after breakfast had been equally exhausting. Only half a dozen kids had come the first day, with a few more coming each day. But even today, with the exception of a handful of orphans watched over by a relief worker, every single child had been attended by a wary parent. Usually one skeptical of the entire idea and hovering protectively over their child the entire time.

  On that note, Ellie was disappointed Petey had never showed up, since Mack and Bea had decided it wasn't worth the risk after all. When she and Hal had visited the family's tent to check up on them the conversation had been awkward, the couple offering little hope they'd change their mind. And they weren't the only ones who remained unconvinced.

  Oh well. Hopefully as word of the programs' successes over the last three days spread through the camp, more people would begin attending and lending their support. She was just glad she had Hal and Cathy helping out, or this would've been impossible.

  It only took about fifteen minutes to talk to those in the grief counseling group who wanted to, leaving Ellie with free time before the next activity she had planned. A hopefully more restful get together with their neighbors from Sector F.

  That chance to rest couldn't have come at a better time.

  Even though she wished she could've done more for these people she was trying to help, at the same time she felt a bit glad it was finally over. And not just because the day had already been so exhausting and stressful, piled onto the exhaustion and stress of the last few days since starting her new programs.

  She'd started this grief counseling meeting off by sharing her own situation: unable to get in touch with the nursing home her mom was in and fearing the worst, out of contact with her husband and children soon after he'd had his confrontation with someone who might've been carrying Zolos, forcing him to go into quarantine and leaving the kids to fend for themselves.

  It had brought all Ellie's fears to the fore, to the point where she'd had to fight to keep from breaking down herself. Right in the middle of helping these people with their own fears for loved ones and grief over recent losses.

  Nick, keep our babies safe, she thought fervently as she carefully wiped down all the chairs in the circle, then left the meeting area behind to go find Hal. She could do with his familiar face and supportive presence right now.

  So of course, she ended up getting the exact opposite.

  A couple moved to head her off as she headed for where her boyfriend was teaching a math class to a group of teenagers. And while their faces were certainly familiar ones, supportive was the last way anyone would describe their expressions.

  Hannah and Brock Nowak, of course, the last people she wanted to see. Especially since the new bride was hiding behind her husband as if she expected Ellie to violently attack her at any moment, while at the same time urging him on to block Ellie's path.

  It probably would've been possible to navigate around the couple if she'd wanted, but she reluctantly slowed to a stop. “Can I help you?” she asked coolly.

  “You think we need your help?” Hannah demanded from her ridiculous hiding place, peeking around Brock's shoulder as she spoke. “But don't you think you owe us an apology?”

  Ellie did her best not to frown. “That would be kind of hard, since we were told to stay away from you.” She paused to see if the couple would respond to that pointed reminder, but they just stared back at her petulantly. Her frown finally made an appearance. “Also there's the fact that after what you did, you should be apologizing to us.”

  “We're not talking about that,” Brock snapped. He waved at the empty circle of chairs she'd just left. “We're talking about you needing to apologize for gathering groups of people together to spread Zolos all over the camp!”

  Of course that was what this was about; if anyone would have a problem with what she was attempting, these two would. “We're taking every precaution. And if you have concerns about the activities we're planning, you're welcome to not attend.” She hardened her voice. “After all, you were also told to stay away from us. We only get one strike, remember.”

  The balding, overweight man clenched his fists at his sides and took a step forward. “I'll show you one strike!” he snarled.

  Ellie took a step back, although she felt more angry than scared in spite of the man's aggressive posture. “You're a lot braver when you're threatening a woman on her own,” she said in pure contempt. “Did you deliberately wait until Hal was somewhere else to come after me?”

  He flushed and looked around, then stepped back, making a show of unclenching his fists. “We're just airing our legitimate complaints. You started these programs without asking everyone or getting our agreement, and we're the ones you're putting in danger with them.”

  “You didn't seem worried about being exposed to Zolos when you started for me like you planned to punch me in the face,” Ellie told him.

  Hannah spat in her direction and grabbed her husband's arm. “Come on, dear. She deserves it, but she's not worth it.”

  They walked away, shooting dark glances at her over their shoulders with every step as if they expected her to tackle them from behind.

  As they went, Ellie noticed that several of the people who'd been observing the grief counseling session from a respectful distance had edged back to well beyond even a cautious distance. It looked as if, unreasonable as the couple had been, they'd still managed to spread their paranoia to at least a few of their fellow residents.

  Fantastic. As if she wasn't facing an uphill battle as it was boosting people's spirits, helping them deal with the pain of their recent tragedies and their fear of their current situation, and getting them planning for the future.

  The small open space between the tents where Hal was teaching the teenagers wasn't far away, and she soon came in sight of it. He spotted her at almost the same time she saw him, brightened, and waved eagerly as he stood and stretched.

  Her boyfriend looked even happier to see her than usual, wasting no time excusing himself from his small group of pupils with a few words and trotting over to meet her. “You're here! Does that mean this ordeal's finally over?”

  “It was only one because you suck at math as much as we do!” one of the teenagers called. From his teasing tone it was obvious he was just giving Hal a hard time, although Ellie wondered if there was more to it when her boyfriend didn't refute the claim, just shook his head ruefully.

  She sympathetically put her arms around him. “How you doing?”

  He hugged her back, his arms comfortingly solid and welcoming after her confrontation with the Nowaks. “Holding in there. Can't wait for this day to be over, though . . . it's lasting forever.”

  “Really?” She shook her head wryly as she pulled back, although she kept an arm around his waist. “It's moving in a frantic blur for me.”

  Hal chuckled. “Time flies at a crawl?”

  “Something like that.” Ellie glanced over at the teenagers, who'd wasted no time using the distraction as an excuse to escape. “Ready to have a relaxing chat with our neighbors in Sector F?”

  He groaned. “We've been at this morning to night for three days now. Are we going to get a single break before we're released in, what, twelve more days?” His shoulders slumped as if the very prospe
ct was exhausting.

  She patted his arm sympathetically. “Once we get more people to help us with running sessions, it'll be a lot less hectic for us.”

  Her boyfriend groaned again. “And this get together in Sector F is part of your camp morale boosting efforts, right?” She nodded firmly, and he shook his head and pulled her closer a rueful smile. “Then absolutely, let's go.”

  Ellie rested her head on his shoulder. “Thanks. I'd never have been able to do this without you.”

  “Don't mind my grousing,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I'm with you every step of the way, and you're doing a great job. I think we're making a real difference here.”

  That was exactly what she needed to hear at the moment, and she felt some of her exhaustion lift. Amazing how much better everything seemed, even miserable encounters like that confrontation with the Nowaks, when she was with him.

  After walking in contented silence for a minute or two she glanced up at him, hoping she wasn't prying. “So, um, the math lesson sounded like it was a challenge.”

  Hal made a face. “Yeah, kind of. It really isn't my thing.”

  Ellie was a bit surprised by that. “I thought you worked construction. That requires a lot of precise measuring and stuff, doesn't it?”

  “Well yeah. But that's all straightforward, a matter of being careful and double-checking everything. When it comes to the advanced math, pretty much most trigonometry and beyond, I'm completely hopeless.” He gave her a suspicious look. “And now I can see you looking at me like I'm an idiot.”

  She guiltily realized she'd at least let the thought tease her mind that she hadn't expected that from him. “Hey, I'm terrible at math, too. That was always Nick's thing . . . my talents were more with dealing with people and managing groups.”

  “So you think it's possible to be smart and still suck at math?” Hal didn't wait for her to reply, snorting wryly. “I was reading at a college level in elementary school, figuring out words I didn't know and butting my head against advanced concepts until I at least had some idea of what I was reading. Books were pretty much my only escape from a terrible situation at home.”