Isolation (Book 1): Shut In Page 14

  The teen-the young man gave her a lopsided grin. “I dunno, my friends all say I'm pretty immature. Those stupid poopyheads.”

  In spite of herself Ellie burst out laughing, and Hal joined her. But as their laughter petered out he became solemn, turning to look at her intently. “You really think I'm more mature than guys your own age?”

  Oh boy. She'd had a feeling that's where he was going with all this. “Some, yes,” she said carefully. “But maturity isn't always a replacement for experience and wisdom.”

  Maybe her hint had been sufficient to make the young man realize pursuing her was unrealistic, especially under the circumstances. Or maybe he was simply sensitive enough to know that now was a bad time to press the issue.

  Either way, he nodded and leaned back against the rock wall again. “Experience and wisdom come best from hard work and personal sacrifice. Don't count me out just yet.”

  Surprisingly, Ellie didn't. Romantically she did, of course; that was a given considering their age difference, even if it wasn't quite as great as she'd assumed. Although she couldn't help but regret with a bit of wistfulness that she wasn't a decade younger, or he wasn't a decade older, since the more she got to know him the more impressed she became. Beyond just her initial impression of his good looks, of course.

  In any case, when it came to surviving in a desert she had a feeling she could've done far worse than to have Hal Westmont with her. And selfish as it was, she was glad he hadn't ditched her with the Nowaks.

  ◆◆◆

  Going by the mile markers they made it a bit more than twelve miles that day, after a bit less than fourteen hours of walking.

  Their progress absolutely disgusted Ellie. It wasn't a challenge for even out of shape people to walk three miles in an hour, and she'd routinely jogged five miles in a bit over half that and called it a good day. On top of that Hal had been right, and they were going at least a little downhill for most of the time.

  It couldn't be helped, though. Exhausted from days of poor sleep and high stress, sapped by the sun and heat, hungry, and above all thirsty, they had to stop for rest more and more often, and when they did move they struggled to put one foot in front of another.

  On top of that the water she'd thought would last several days, and Hal predicted would last a few, was mostly gone by the first day. Which meant they had to have guzzled almost a gallon and a half each, easily twice what she'd assumed they'd need.

  And she was still desperately thirsty.

  How much did you actually need to drink in conditions like this? Should she try breathing through her nose, maybe even through a cloth? Travel even slower so they weren't sweating as hard? She'd already taken an extra shirt and tied it around her head to protect it from the sun, but she wondered if there was anything else she should be doing.

  “Be prepared for tomorrow to be even worse,” Hal warned her during a rest break in the late afternoon, their fifth stop in under an hour. “Conditions will be the same and we'll be even more sore, tired, and weakened.”

  Fantastic.

  They could've gone farther that day, and in fact the sun was still hours from setting when they stopped. But neither of them raised an argument about the decision, because it was unanimously reached the second they came around a bend in the road to be treated to the glorious sight of a river below, meandering into view to run alongside I-15.

  The river wasn't wide, and probably wasn't more than a few inches deep. Even so, it looked heavenly. Enough to give Ellie a final burst of strength to totter the remaining distance so she could drop into it, groaning in relief as the water splashed over her.

  It was tepid at best, but she still did her best to submerge every inch of her overheated, sunburned skin. And she didn't even mind that it didn't cover her entire body, since in the day's heat it was still so incredibly soothing it might as well have been a cold bath.

  She was about to dunk her head down and begin gulping down the life-giving substance, grateful for an alternative to the warm, plastic-tasting water in the bottles. Or at least what little was left of it. That was why she intended to drink until her stomach exploded to quench her overpowering thirst.

  Before she could, though, a firm hand caught her shoulder, stopping her. “We should boil it first,” Hal said quietly.

  Ellie glared up at him, noting the longing in his own expression as he stared down at the water. Tempting as it was to ignore him, to pull free and drink in spite of his warning, her common sense won over.

  She wasn't getting back to her kids if she was squirting from both ends from giardia or dysentery or whatever. Heck, she'd be lucky if she survived that under the current circumstances. In fact, instead of fighting her companion she retreated out of the water, spitting out the droplets that had touched her lips, as a horrible thought struck her.

  Zolos could be carried in water. Had she just exposed herself? It seemed unlikely, out here in the middle of nowhere far from any population center, but unlikely wasn't impossible and the authorities had warned that it could live for extended periods of time in water, air, or on surfaces.

  “Yeah,” she said in a shaky voice. “We should boil it.”

  Hal frowned, looking around. “You'd think there'd be something growing anywhere water flows . . . I can't believe how barren it is here.”

  Ellie also looked around. “We need to find a place where the water's traveling through soil instead of rock. Downstream, maybe in a gulch or ravine.”

  He sighed, glancing at the gently downward sloping road. “Guess that means we'll be going a bit farther today.” He patted his pack, which held a lot of the camping supplies. “Good thing Brock bought a camping pot. It'll be slow boiling water in it and refilling our water bottles, but we can manage it.”

  After the refreshing dunk in the water, Ellie actually felt like she could go for hours longer. At least until she'd walked for a while in wet, heavy jeans, the cloth painfully chafing her already chafed thighs and hips. She was almost tempted to change into her sweatpants or yoga pants, but preferred to have them clean for when they stopped for the night.

  Besides, it would've been embarrassing to bring it up to Hal, even though she was sure he would've been understanding about it.

  Thankfully, it didn't take much more than ten minutes to find a patch of ground beside the river with a few bushes and some sparse grass. One of the bushes even looked dead, the wood dry and good for burning. Hal immediately got to work breaking off sticks and preparing a fire circle.

  Before joining in to help out, Ellie paused for a moment to pull her phone out of her suitcase's front pocket and turn it on. She'd kept to her resolution to check for signal every few hours, and each time had been frustrated to find there was none.

  She shouldn't have been surprised to find it was the same now, but even so it was disheartening; just how little coverage was there in this area?

  The time it took to get a fire started with sticks gathered from the sparse bushes, then fill their cooking pot with water and get it hung over the small flickering flames on a crude tripod, then wait for that water to boil while Ellie felt like she was literally dying of thirst, well . . .

  She couldn't recall many events in her life more agonizing than that.

  And to top it all off, once the water was finally boiling neither of them wanted to wait for it to cool down. So they washed last night's empty stew cans in the river and filled them with the boiling water. Then, carefully using spare clothes as hot pads, they retreated to the shade of a nearby rock wall, slumping down in the sparse grass sipping at the scalding water while suffering the unbearable temperatures even this late in the afternoon.

  Discomfort didn't begin to describe it; she felt like she'd be physically sick with every sip, the unpleasant heat of the water churning in her gut. She wondered if it was actually worse for her to drink the water hot than it was to wait ten minutes or so for it to cool down when she was so thirsty.

  “I just realized why my uncle always brought te
a or coffee packets along when we went camping,” Hal said wryly, grimacing around a cautious sip.

  “You think that would make this any less unbearable?” Ellie snapped. This miserable experience hadn't put her in the mood for banter.

  Rather than answering he started to take another sip, then swallowed as his face paled, sweat streaming down it in rivers. Hunching slightly around his stomach, he carefully set his cup down. “I think I'll wait until the water's at least room temperature.”

  Ellie couldn't help but think that room temperature out here was still practically hot enough to make coffee with, but even thirsty as she was she couldn't bear to drink any more of the scalding liquid. So she set her cup down, too, then went to take the pot off the fire so that water could also cool, at least enough to pour into the water bottles without melting them.

  While she was doing that Hal dug out Brock's and Hannah's stew cans, heading to the stream to fill them with water for boiling while the pot cooled.

  She could appreciate that he thought ahead like that. Even if without his cautious nature she'd be sprawled in the shade, blissfully curled around a belly bloated with cool stream water she'd thoughtlessly drunk.

  Imagining it made her want to cry from sheer misery. Although she knew that a few hours or days from now, when she wasn't squatting behind some bush spewing from both ends and wishing she was dead, she'd be thanking him for keeping her from giving in to the temptation of that temporary relief.

  “Think we'll reach St. George tomorrow?” she asked as he worked.

  The young man shook his head grimly. “Probably late the day after, at this rate. I just hope we can keep up this speed as our strength gives out.”

  “Well, I plan on getting a proper night's sleep tonight.”

  He paused in punching holes in the can he held, which he'd string wire through to hang on his makeshift tripod, and gave her a crooked grin. “Considering what we've been through since Japan, that'll be a first.”

  Wasn't that the truth. Ellie knew she should probably be doing something productive, setting up her tent or something, but there was no rush before dark. So she settled down beside him, looking around. “Well, miserable as this place feels, it sure does look majestic. You don't see anything like this in Missouri.”

  “I dunno, I kind of like the rolling green hills.”

  “Well yeah.” She gestured idly at the mountains around them. “Can't say I would mind having these in my backyard, though.”

  “Not if the heat and gritty dust and bone dry air came with them.” Hal finished hanging the cans and leaned back, staring at the small flames licking at the pile of sticks. “You get out into the countryside in Missouri very often?”

  “Barely at all, these days.” She leaned back as well, groaning slightly as she took pressure off her aching back. “You?”

  “Go hunting with my buddies every year,” he replied. “Nothing like fresh venison jerky, let me tell you.”

  Ellie groaned. “Let's not talk about delicious food right now.”

  The young man grimaced. “Yeah.”

  With plenty of time waiting for water to boil, then cool so they could drink and refill their bottles, then boil more, they settled into a relaxed conversation about their lives, what they did for work and in their spare time, their interests and the shows they'd been watching before this disaster started.

  It was surprisingly relaxing, and it certainly helped that Hal was a good conversationalist, a dying art in today's world. Although she noticed he avoided talking about his family, aside from occasional mentions of his brothers and sister.

  Then again, aside from talking about her kids Ellie didn't have much to say about her family, either; the divorce was still too raw, and while she had fond memories of her parents growing up she was sensitive to her companion's feelings about the topic and avoided it for his sake.

  If he ever wanted to talk about it, she was happy to listen. But she knew from spending so long with Nick that there were some things he just hadn't wanted to dredge up, even if there was a supportive ear to hear them, and guessed Hal probably felt the same.

  If anything, the mistakes she'd made pressing her ex-husband when he didn't feel like opening up had taught her that patience was the best idea when it came to people's pasts.

  Considering the trying few days they'd had, they set up their tents and turned in early. Ellie was afraid that in spite of her exhaustion her worry for her family would keep her awake, as well as aching muscles, sunburn, and the discomfort of hunger and thirst. But to her surprise she drifted off almost as soon as she climbed into her warm sleeping bag.

  ◆◆◆

  “Daddy, there's a sick man outside.”

  Nick popped his eyes open and squinted through the dim early morning light to see Tallie standing beside his bed, small face scrunched up in worry. “Huh?” he mumbled.

  “I saw him out the window.” She pointed urgently towards the front of the apartment. “He's on the sidewalk across the street. He crawled out of his apartment building, but then he fell down the stairs and now he's not moving. I think he needs to go to the doctor.”

  Speaking of which . . . first things first. He forced himself awake, noticing Ricky hovering in the doorway also looking worried. “Okay, come here you two,” he said, putting a hand on Tallie's forehead and beginning his routine search for symptoms of Zolos. He'd been checking every few hours since he locked them all into the apartment.

  His daughter impatiently put up with his poking and prodding. “But the man-”

  “I'm sure someone's already called for an ambulance,” Nick said gently, waving Ricky over. “But I'll check once I'm sure we're all safe.”

  It didn't take more than a minute or two to reassure himself that he and his kids were all still healthy two days after the scare at the school. Which meant that, fingers crossed, they'd remain that way for the next two days, until he could be sure they were past the time they'd be showing symptoms and were really safe.

  Nick hadn't really thought his kids had picked up Zolos. Sure, it had filled his nightmares for the last couple nights, but he'd never actually believed it was possible they could be sick. It just couldn't happen, not in his peaceful world.

  “Dad, the sick man,” Ricky said, grabbing his hand.

  He allowed himself to be pulled out of his room, picking up his phone from the bedside table as he went. As he'd done dozens of times since that call with Ellie the night she left LA, he tried her number and it went straight to voicemail.

  What was going on? Her constantly disappearing like this was wracking his nerves, and considering she'd been out of contact far longer this time he was seriously freaking out. In fact, she should've been back by now, even if she'd stopped for a full night's rest on the drive. For that matter, she'd be back soon even if she'd stopped for two full nights for some reason, in spite of her desperation to get home to the kids.

  What if something had really happened to her this time? Ricky and Tallie were constantly asking him if he had any news about her, and it was getting harder and harder to put them off and he refused to lie to them. But he dreaded what he might do if Ellie's phone stayed impossible to reach for all the weeks they were in quarantine. Having to come to terms with the fact that she would do anything in her power to get through to them, so if she hadn't been able to then he should fear the worst.

  When did he tell the kids? How? How did he comfort them as their lives were shattered by the loss of their mom?

  And what about him? Nick could admit he still loved Ellie, even if since the divorce it had become less romantic and more like a close relative. His only close relative, really, since he was estranged from his parents.

  What would he do if he lost her?

  No. He was getting way, way ahead of himself. There were any number of reasons his ex-wife wasn't back yet. She could've been delayed going around infected cities. She could've been delayed at a roadblock. She could've been detained at a quarantine camp. Or her car could've
simply broken down, and she was having trouble getting it towed with emergency services all tied up dealing with the Zolos crisis.

  And there could be just as many valid reasons her phone was off. It might've been damaged in some scuffle. It might've been confiscated at some roadblock, or stolen. It could just be out of juice, and she was so occupied with driving back to him that she hadn't bothered to charge it. Although that didn't explain why she hadn't found another way to contact him.

  He shook his head and let his children lead him to one of the windows in the den.

  Sure enough, there was a man outside showing obvious symptoms of the Zolos virus. He looked as if he could barely move, and in desperation had dragged himself out of his apartment building and fallen down the stairs in front. He was now hunched around himself in obvious pain and misery, not moving aside from the occasional feeble twitch.

  Nick didn't recognize the man, which wasn't surprising since he hadn't lived here long and it wasn't as if he'd gone around introducing himself to all the neighbors. It was still a horrible sight, all the more so because it was the first sign he'd seen outside the internet that the Zolos threat actually existed. That it wasn't just some overblown panic or an epic national hoax or something.

  The disease was real, and there was a man dying from it not fifty feet away from him. Just one of many.

  And it could just as easily be him and his children.

  Nick immediately sent Ricky and Tallie away from the windows so they wouldn't have to see a sight that might scar them for life, ignoring their complaints. Every fiber of decency in him wanted to go and give the poor man a hand, help him get to where he was going and offer him whatever help he could.

  But he stayed right where he was.

  Maybe it made him an awful human being, but he wasn't about to take any chances where his children's safety was concerned. Even if he had to watch a man slowly die right outside his front door.

  It looked as if everyone else felt the same, because although Nick saw more than a few faces peeking out of their windows at the poor man, nobody came to his aid. In fact, over the next hour the few people entering and leaving that apartment building took one look at the guy and immediately sought another entrance, refusing to use the stairs he was crumpled at the bottom of.