Isolation (Book 2): Going Out Read online

  “Okay, just don't get going on anything until you hear back from me.” With a last wave, the relief worker motioned for the next person in line to step forward. Ellie and Hal moved aside to give them plenty of space to do so.

  “Well, I think she was on board,” her boyfriend said, slipping an arm around her waist as they started back towards their tent.

  She shook her head dubiously. “You think so? She seemed in a hurry to move us along at the end there.”

  “Well, we might be volunteering for a serious workload, but she's already got one,” he replied with a shrug. “Speaking of which . . . we've got our work cut out for us, don't we?”

  “We sure do.” Ellie took his hand and squeezed it. “And no time like the present . . . ready to get started?”

  “Lead on, Ms. Workplace Cohesion Consultant,” he said cheerfully.

  Since they were near the entrance and breakfast was being delivered to the residents, that made it an ideal time to begin visiting everyone in the tents in an organized manner, starting from the ones in Sector A who'd arrived first. Including the Nowaks, although she hoped they wouldn't encounter those two headaches today.

  Since some sort of school classes for the camp's kids were part of her plans, Ellie decided to go along the rows of larger tents first. They'd give Hannah and Brock's tent a wide berth, but otherwise she wanted to see how the families here felt about her plans.

  Speaking of those two, and introductions, the latter turned out to not be necessary, at least in this sector, thanks to their run-in with the former. The first family they talked to, a couple named Mack and Bea and their young son Petey, recognized them as soon as they introduced themselves.

  “You're those guys that went after our unpleasant neighbors down the row,” Mack said, tone friendly enough in spite of the fact that he ushered his son back into the tent as he spoke. “Did they really steal your car and leave you for dead?”

  Hal glanced towards the Nowaks' tent, torn between residual anger and chagrin. “Yeah. Not a great reason to try to tackle someone instead of going to the authorities, but-”

  “No, no!” the young dad said. “I'm impressed you didn't punch his lights out, under the circumstances.”

  Bea nodded. “I thought those two were just unlikeable troublemakers, but to do what they did . . .” She shook her head in disbelief.

  “Troublemakers?” Ellie asked, wondering how two paranoid people hiding in their tent in the middle of a quarantine camp had managed to earn that reputation.

  Mack snorted. “Well, this isn't exactly a prison, but those two are definitely snitches. The only time they leave their tent is to go running to the guards about some BS.”

  “And you can't go within a hundred feet of their tent without hearing her whining nonstop at the loudest possible volume,” his wife added. “Normally I mind my own business, but she kind of makes that impossible.” She shuddered. “Which is too bad, because ten seconds of her voice is enough to give you a migraine.”

  Wasn't that the truth.

  “Well, on a more pleasant note,” Ellie said. “We're actually going around talking to people about ways we can improve our remaining time in the camp.”

  The couple only seemed too glad to change the subject from their neighbors. “We've only got a bit more than a week to go before we're out, since we were some of the first in right when the Zolos threat was first acknowledged,” Bea said. “But that's going to be an eternity with nothing to keep us occupied but nightly movies and keeping Petey from running off.”

  Mack nodded, grimacing. “What did you have in mind? We can't exactly play touch football in a quarantine camp.”

  With Hal's help, Ellie quickly described her plans for ways to keep people occupied and lift spirits in the camp. The couple listened attentively, although their expressions were dubious. Especially when Ellie started detailing her ideas for some sort of school for the kids.

  “I don't know,” Mack interrupted, reaching into the tent to pick up Petey and hugging him protectively. “Something like this seems like a great way to spread infection among all the children.” The little boy made a frightened sound at that and buried his face in his dad's chest.

  The sight sent a pang of longing through Ellie to hold her own son. Then again, just about everything did these days; Ricky and Tallie both, that is. She missed her sweet children more by the minute, and the only reason they weren't constantly on her mind was that wondering about how they were doing caused a rising tide of fear and panic for their sakes. One she was having a harder and harder time fighting down.

  So she focused on the conversation with this family, and what she could do to help them. “It's a valid worry,” she admitted. “I assume you've explained to your son that he needs to stay away from other people?”

  Bea grimaced and reached over to rub Petey's back. “Explained it so well he treats everyone else like they're suddenly going to go crazy and try to attack him, instead of just maybe carrying a deadly disease. I'm a bit worried he's going to be paranoid about people by the time things go back to normal.”

  “Well, all the more reason to spend time around other people, with everyone sticking to carefully explained boundaries for safety's sake,” Ellie said firmly. “We'll make sure none of the children go near each other, but this is a great chance for them to make friends with other kids in the camp.”

  The parents glanced at each other uncomfortably. “I don't know,” Mack said again.

  “I'm sure lots of parents will want to go with their kids and make sure they're safe, at least at first,” Hal offered. “You could go along with Petey, make sure we've set things up to your satisfaction and see what it's like.” He grinned. “It'd give you guys a chance to socialize with other parents, too . . . kids aren't the only ones who like spending time around other people.”

  Another shared glance. “You guys do look like you're having a good time going around talking to everyone,” Bea suggested hesitantly.

  “Aside from when you're tackling car thieves,” her husband joked.

  Ellie smiled ruefully. “How about you think it over until we get an answer from the relief administrators about whether they'll help with this?”

  They left the family to their breakfast and continued on, meeting the couple in the next tent, and a small group of unrelated neighbors who'd stuck together in the tent after that.

  As they talked to more and more people in Sector A, it quickly became apparent that the Nowaks were infamous, at least in that sector. Even more surprisingly, for some people they were actually famous; there was a small but vocal minority of residents who thought the couple were outspoken advocates for the welfare of the people trapped in the camp.

  Ellie didn't see how anyone could consider those two selfish, abrasive people to be the slightest bit admirable, but she supposed it wasn't a coincidence that most of Hannah and Brock's fans lived farthest away from their tent in the sector.

  They probably hadn't actually met the couple, or come close enough to overhear that nonstop complaining Bea had mentioned.

  In any case, a disproportionate number of those who liked the Nowaks were also the most frightened about exposure to Zolos. Which meant, to her disappointment, that they weren't interested in her ideas for keeping people occupied and improving camp morale. In many cases they even thought it was a needless and foolish risk.

  At least nobody openly opposed the idea, although one couple did try to convince them to rethink things. “It's only a few weeks,” was the general thrust of their argument.

  Most of the day was taken up with their visits, although they did head back to their tent to eat and enjoy a little bit of time together. Most of that was spent planning, not just how to help the camp residents but also, mostly at Hal's insistence, the best way to escape the camp if there was some sort of emergency.

  Even though they'd gotten plenty of exercise walking around that day, in the evening they headed outside to do more. They'd arranged with a few of their closest
neighbors to all join together to begin formal exercising, whatever the camp coordinators decided, and it turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable social experience.

  Even though the day had gone well, the highlight was when Cathy came around after the movie to talk to them. “Good news!” she said as she approached their tent. The reflections of the overhead floodlights on her suit's faceplate couldn't completely hide her wide smile. “I talked your idea over with the people in charge, and Project Get the Residents Up Off Their Butts is a go!”

  Ellie gave her an amused look. “Is that the official name?”

  The relief worker waved that off, continuing in a brisk tone. “I've been assigned to work with you on a full time basis and provide you with official support.” She hesitated. “Although a big part of what my bosses expect of me is making sure that your programs avoid the risk of Zolos exposure as much as possible. And I've been ordered to shut you down if it seems like you're not observing proper precautions.”

  “Good,” Ellie said firmly. “We're actually hoping to benefit from your expertise there, since that's our highest priority too.”

  “Good to hear,” Cathy said. “Although between you and me, I'm fully on board and want to help you however I can to make these programs a success. I even have limited access to resources and help from other relief workers if I can justify the need.”

  That was far more than Ellie had expected, honestly; her prediction to Hal had been that at best they'd be given a green light to carry out her planned programs on their own, without camp officials trying to shut it down. She knew enough about the leadership of organizations to know that they wouldn't have responded like this unless they either really liked the idea, or Cathy had seriously gone to bat for them.

  Probably the latter, since the relief worker had been assigned to work as their full time liaison.

  Ellie wanted to throw her arms around the motherly woman, but she contented herself with a grateful smile. “I don't know how to thank you for all your help.”

  “You can thank me by bringing some hope and cheer to this camp, and helping all these people keep up the will to continue on in spite of everything.”

  They spent a short while after that making serious plans for all the various projects Ellie had suggested. They'd begin the next morning at sunrise, and from the sounds of it spend pretty much every waking hour, at least at first, getting things organized and running smoothly. Not to mention doing a lot of the work leading groups themselves.

  When Cathy finally said her goodbyes and headed for bed, Ellie felt a bit daunted about the job ahead of her. She was excited to get started, of course, but there was no argument it was going to be a lot of work.

  Hal slipped an arm around her waist, nuzzling her neck. “Want to get in some cuddling time before bed?”

  “You read my mind,” she murmured, contentedly leaning against him as they turned to their tent. “This might be the last free time we have in a while.”

  “Mmm. Sure you really want to tackle this?”

  “Bit late to change our minds now, isn't it?” Ellie led him through the front room where he slept to the back room, pulling him down with her onto her comfortable pile of stacked mats. “I hope by “cuddling” you meant “making out.”

  Her boyfriend chuckled. “I was kind of hoping the two go together.”

  He didn't hope in vain. She put aside her plans for the future and worries about how things would go for now and just focused on enjoying this time with him.

  Chapter Four

  Wisp

  Tallie got weaker and weaker as the days passed.

  The biggest sign of that was that she slept more and more of the time, becoming harder to wake up and having trouble staying lucid when Nick could manage it. It got to the point where he had to dribble water, plain or with the electrolyte tablets, and shakes made with the protein powder down her throat a few drops at a time, getting her to swallow reflexively while still unconscious.

  He washed her every six hours or so and changed the bloody cloths out for clean ones, as well as changing her into clean pajamas every day. He also regularly rolled her to different positions so she wouldn't get bed sores, and also so she'd be able to breathe more comfortably.

  He did everything Melody had instructed him, everything he could think to do, even hovering at her bedside dabbing at her waxy forehead with a cool, damp cloth. He also spoke quietly to her until his voice was nearly hoarse, encouraging her to keep fighting and telling her he loved her, and so did Ricky and her mom. When he wasn't doing anything else he sat at her side holding her hand, willing strength into her with all his heart.

  And in spite of everything Nick did, his daughter continued to weaken. By the end of the second day her breathing had become so shallow that he could barely see her chest moving, and several times he woke up from exhausted, fitful dozes in a panic that she might've stopped while he slept.

  He had a tiny mirror, one of Tallie's toys that she kept with her collection of fake jewelry and little purses and things like that, that he regularly held over her mouth to make sure it fogged. He had to constantly fight the urge to do it more often, and every time he saw mist on the glass an overpowering sense of relief surged through him.

  The third day was a hellish vigil, forcing himself to stay awake and keep tending his daughter as her face grew paler and paler. Even the fog on the mirror when he held it to her mouth came less strongly, and his fragile nerves snapped more and more often as he dissolved into tears, the horrible reality he faced looming over his head.

  A few times Nick fled to his office to silently rage at the cold unfeeling world, usually ending up in an exhausted huddle on the floor, pleading silently for his little girl to pull through. The thought of losing her was an anguish so deep he could feel it as physical pain, and yet some treacherous part of his mind was insisting it was time he prepare himself to keep going, keep caring for Ricky and fighting to survive, if she died.

  Thoughts like that always drove him back to his room to check on Tallie, dribbling more water down her throat and mopping her forehead. Then he held her hand as the minutes dragged into hours, each second an eternity.

  “Stay with me, sweetie girl,” he murmured over and over. “Stay with me, you're almost past this.”

  Three days. She just needed to survive for a bit longer, and the worst would be past. Just twelve hours, then ten, then nine. Then nine and a half, and nine, and-

  Nick started awake with a gasp of horror, realizing that he'd passed out and slept for far longer than he should've. The room was dark, only faint moonlight and starlight coming in through the windows, and somehow he'd ended up curled up on the floor.

  Every part of him was sore, he had a pounding headache, and his mouth was dry. But he ignored his own discomfort and scrambled for the box of matches on the bedside table, lighting one of their few candles. In his panic it took far longer than it should've.

  When the flame finally flickered to life and he could see Tallie, he almost cried out in horror. She lay completely still, face ashen and lips slightly parted and covered with dry, flaking blood, as were her cheeks below her eyes. She didn't look like she was breathing.

  No!

  Cursing and weeping, Nick fumbled for the mirror beside the candle and held it to his daughter's lips. His hand shook so much he could barely manage it, and he nearly collapsed in despair when the glass remained clear.

  It couldn't be true. This couldn't be happening. He refused to believe it.

  Then . . . a puff. Just the slightest wisp of fog, so faint it could've been caused by the heat of his thumb on the glass. His breath caught, and he pushed the mirror practically against her lips, waiting with a mixture of hope and dread as the seconds dragged by.

  Until the mirror fogged enough to be certain: she was still breathing.

  Nick collapsed to the ground in great wracking sobs of relief, mirror still clutched in his hand. He was so focused on the moment that he jumped at Ricky's voice calling
frantically from his room. “Dad, what's wrong? Is-is Tallie . . .”

  “She's still with us!” Nick called, then cleared his throat sharply and repeated himself. “She's still hanging on.”

  And he'd let her go for hours without the care she needed. Snarling silently to himself in recrimination, he shoved back to his feet and reached for a water bottle.

  Most of what he tried to give Tallie dribbled back out of her lips and down her chin, but he kept at it until he saw her swallow feebly once, then twice, and finally after a few minutes of trying a third time. Then he dampened a clean cloth and got to work wiping her eyes and around her mouth. Finally he bathed her and changed her pads, then put her in clean clothes and snugged the covers back around her chin.

  Last of all he smoothed her limp, sweaty hair, brushing strands away from her pale face, and leaned down to kiss her cool forehead. “Stay with me, sweetie,” he whispered with all his heart. “Stay with me, we're almost there.”

  To confirm that, he risked turning on his phone long enough to check the time. There was still a bit more than two hours until it had been the full three days since Tallie started showing symptoms, and even then Melody had stressed that there was no guarantee she'd be out of the woods.

  Still, he counted down that time more intently than anything else that had ever happened in his life, tirelessly caring for his daughter as he waited. She showed no change, although he was confident that she was still holding in there.

  The three day deadline-no, the three day countdown came and went with no big fanfare or sudden miraculous return to health. Nick hadn't really expected anything different, but he was still a bit disappointed. Although he firmly reminded himself that the fact that Tallie was still alive was a wonderful sign, and the first step to her recovering.

  The hours dragged by one after the other, no different from the day before. The candle burned down, and when it started guttering he lit a new one to replace it. He continued the routines he'd established over the last few days caring for his daughter, talking to her and encouraging her to keep fighting as he worked.