Despite the horrible situation he was in, he knew he was actually one of the lucky ones. He was unmarked and both his home and his office were located in the newly designated Clean Zone, which meant he hadn’t been displaced like many of his remaining constituents. He almost felt a little guilty for the way things had turned out.
Eva, his secretary, met him at the office. He even still had her. Her Clean Skin face gave him a sad smile as she announced that Chief Blackstone was in his office. He gave her a nod and entered. The Clean Skin, Blackstone, rose from the chair in which he sat and shook Russo’s hand.
“Chief,” Russo said, eyeing the big man whose height seemed to cast a shadow over him. The hat the chief wore made him seem taller still, “how have you fared in all of this?”
“How have I fared?” Blackstone raised his eyebrows, the deepness of his voice accentuating that southern drawl.
“Are any of your family missing?”
Blackstone stared at him a moment. “Well, as you know, Erina died last year. I’m a widower.”
“Yes, of course,” Russo smiled sympathetically. “I meant your children, I know they visit you often.”
Again Blackstone looked at him oddly. “No. My daughter’s down in Louisiana and my son’s in Illinois. I have no losses to speak of other than my officers.”
“You’re lucky, chief.”
Blackstone pressed his lips together briefly, making his voluminous gray mustache move. “You?”
“Nicola. She’s one of the missing.”
Blackstone gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to hear that, mayor.”
Russo exhaled loudly, and moved to sit behind his desk. “I guess things could be worse, though, right?”
Blackstone didn’t respond, but his dark eyes studied him.
“I mean, at least we’re Clean Skins,” Russo clarified. “God knows what the hell those stripes mean.”
Blackstone’s eyes eased off, but his mouth still didn’t respond.
“Now the segregation has taken place, I’ve noticed the soldiers have started lining up pieces of the barrier,” Russo commented.
“Yeah,” Blackstone said, “they pulled some of the soldiers back to the perimeter to guard the roads in secondary quarantine zones, though. They don’t want them sticking around in town any longer than they have to. Just in case.”
“Well, I guess it’s quite fortunate that your deputy is striped. You can split the policing of the zones between you.”
The chief stared back at him. “I’m not sure Leo would see it as fortunate. Being striped and all.”
Russo leaned forward on his desk. “We have no choice but to work with what we’ve got, chief. We need to focus on keeping the zones in place and doing what we can to make sure the people stay calm. Has the exodus out of town slowed down?”
“Some,” Blackstone shrugged. “The roadblocks the military have in place have stopped most of them. Well, that and the segregation. Some may have slipped past or hidden in the early hours before we could get a handle on things, though.”
“Slipped past? How could they slip past the military perimeter?”
Blackstone shrugged. “If people really want out, they’ll find a way.”
“What other way could there be? You can see the choppers flying in the distance. They’ll pick up anyone trying.”
Blackstone nodded. “And that’s why the attempted exodus has slowed. I’m just saying, never rule anything out. I have found, in life, that if there’s a will there’s a way. You threaten a man’s life there’s no telling to what lengths he’ll go to survive.” He eyed Russo with concern. “Cage a lot of people together against their will, there’s no telling how things will pan out. People are scared. We’ve got to play this carefully.”
“Agreed. That’s why it’s important we get out there and ease people’s minds. Tell them they’re safe if they stay put and that this will be over soon.”
“Will it?” Blackstone asked. “Be over soon?”
Russo stared at him and shrugged. “I have faith in the external authorities, and so should you. The town is looking to us for leadership, chief. We need to assure them that this will pass. We want them to view Victoryville as a haven, not a hell.”
Blackstone nodded in agreement. “I’m on my way to do another patrol now.”
“Good. I’m going to head out myself soon, show my face, and talk to people. On the Clean Skin side, anyway. I’ll see you out there.”
Blackstone tipped his hat and headed for the door. Russo watched him leave, then took a deep breath and focused his mind on what words of comfort he would say to the people. With the eye of the world upon him, he had to make sure they were damn good.
*
Richard Keene stood inside the Victoryville Civic Hall on the northern side of town, with many other Clean Skins. More were being brought in by the hour. He demanded to speak with someone in charge, angry that Benny’s camera had been confiscated by the soldiers as he stepped off the bus. They were patting everyone down to ensure no one carried weapons before being sent into the hall, and they had decided that Richard no longer needed his big TV camera, that they’d put it somewhere safe for him. They did leave him with his small handheld, though. And as soon as the bus had pulled up and he’d seen them patting people down, he’d slipped the pocketknife from his backpack into his shoe. He was told there was currently no one available to hear his complaints about Benny’s camera and he’d have to be patient.
He eyed the growing chaos of his surroundings, the people flooding in and the supplies being unloaded by the military, wondering just how long he was going to have to stay there. Volunteers were putting out coffee, tea and biscuits to placate the growing crowd, and a large screen was being erected to show cartoons for the children. Some of those gathered were teary with concern, some quiet with anxiety. Some people quite frankly looked relieved to be there. Of course, there were also others who were angry and debated among themselves over whether the phenomenon was real or a government hoax, and who got which of the camp and foldaway beds being placed in the main hall, the designated sleeping space for their immediate future.
He made his way to the nearest available bathroom for some peace and quiet. He dumped his pack on the floor and pulled out his phone. There was a message from Harry Dean. Richard returned the call and Kelly put it straight through.
“Richard, what’s happening?” Harry answered. “Why’d the military move in?”
“I’m in the Civic Hall. They’ve segregated the town. They’re rounding up the Clean Skins with nowhere else to go and bringing us here. My hotel is apparently now in the Striped Zone.”
“They’re worried about a contagion then. You feeling alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Physically,” Richard said as he tugged his hand through his curly hair. “At least, I think so. What the hell is going on, Harry?”
“You tell me. You got anything new?”
“Just some views and reactions on the street this morning. Plus I got a little as the military swept the streets too. I lost some of it because they confiscated Benny’s camera, but I’ve got my little handheld in my backpack.”
“You took back-up footage?”
“Of course,” Richard said. “Isn’t that what you always taught me, Harry? To cover my ass.”
Harry laughed. “That’s right! Always have a back-up and your trusty pack like you might not see the light of day for a while.”
“Yeah! Thank god I took the pack with me this morning.”
“Never leave home without it,” Harry said. “You’ve got everything you need?”
“Yeah, chargers, batteries, some spare clothes, my pocketknife. I’ll survive.”
“Good. Can you send me through what footage you’ve still got?”
“Yeah. I’ll record a report and send it over to you shortly.”
“Good,” Harry said, then began speaking with someone in the background. After a moment
his attention came back to the phone. “Richard, we just got word that the White House is doing a live cross for another address by the president very soon. Let’s see what he’s got to say.”
“Good. Let’s hope they have answers for us.”
“Let’s hope.” Harry hung up, and Richard put his phone back in his pocket. He reached into his pack and took out his handheld camera. It was time to file another report.
*
Abbie sat glued to the TV. She’d tried to distract herself with other things, but there really wasn’t anything else she could do. The VAC was closed and swimming classes canceled until further notice, and she just couldn’t fathom the idea of trying to study to take her mind off things. She’d called her swimming class families to check they were okay, and found that over half of the kids were missing. All those children, gone. Vanished into thin air. Or, worse, vanished into that alien ship.
Just like her family had.
The military had completed their sweep of Victoryville and most of the soldiers had withdrawn, while rumors spread that they were working on building a barrier between the zones. The few soldiers who remained had set up a guardhouse on the main intersection in town. The intersection was not only the central point of town, but also the central point of the new Clean Skin-Striped Zone border. The border that would soon run along the main street, west to east, virtually cutting the town in half.
An announcement had been made that an address by President Turner was imminent, and Abbie noticed that the streets had emptied. Karen emerged from the basement for the telecast, but the hatch was left ajar and the curtains kept drawn. Peter paced, and Josh bit his fingernails anxiously as they waited to hear what the President had to say.
Waited to hear their fate.
Finally, normal broadcasting was interrupted, the introduction made, and then the president appeared sitting in the Oval Office.
“Good afternoon. The past couple of days have seen us experience an event never seen before. An event that, due to its nature, will take us time to investigate fully. I come to you today with a message, one that I hope will provide you with comfort and assurance. A message to instill in you, the people of America, and everyone around the world, faith that we will work our hardest to investigate this phenomenon, to find the answers and to find a resolution for those in Victoryville.
“Please be assured that we have many people, the best of the best, working around the clock to try and understand what has taken place in Victoryville. The United States government and its many agencies have been gathering data on the missing, while the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention—along with the World Health Organization and its Global Outbreak Alert and Response Network—have been analyzing the results of initial tests on the survivors. They are working tirelessly to understand what is behind the marks left on some of the residents of Victoryville, what this could mean for those unmarked in the town, and for those of us throughout the rest of the world. Each and every one of these organizations is reporting to our government and we, in turn, will continue to report back to you, the people.
“Due to the scale of this phenomenon, it will take some time to complete the investigation, but please be assured that we will investigate all angles thoroughly until we have the answers we seek, until we know what the risks are, and until we locate the missing.
“In order to help us resolve this as swiftly as we can, we need the help of our people. So the first thing you must do is remain calm. We understand that everyone is feeling immense pressure, that you are feeling the absence of your loved ones, and you are feeling concern for the marked ones. But the best thing you can do for yourselves and for those around you is to remain calm. The United States military and NASA have assured us that there is no immediate threat to the people of America, or to anywhere else in the world. All available surveillance internationally is being actioned, and our forces are alert and ready to protect you should it be needed. But again I say, there is no immediate threat. You are safe.
“We have now stationed military personnel in the town of Victoryville and engaged the local police to assist us and ensure everyone continues to stay safe. Until we know more, we ask that the people of Victoryville remain indoors where possible. I repeat, this is for everyone’s safety. I want you to know that the separation of those marked from those unmarked is merely a precaution and a risk mitigation measure. We don’t know why some civilians have these marks, these welts, so until we do, and until we’re sure there is no contagious disease involved, this separation has to take place. The town has, therefore, been divided into two areas: a safe zone for the Clean Skins, and a safe zone for the Striped Ones. Temporary barriers will be erected between the two, and these barriers are not to be crossed. Again this is for your own safety.
“I must stress that these barriers are only temporary, and will remain in place until we have resolved this issue. Please note that if your loved ones have been removed from you, they will be taken care of. The United States government will ensure adequate supplies are provided to the people of Victoryville. Those displaced from their home will be sheltered and fed by the many volunteers stepping up to help us in our hour of need. If you yourself would like to volunteer goods or services, please go online to the website you see listed below. If we require your services, you will be called to assist.
“Please also note the second website listed on the screen now. If you have not yet done so, please ensure you register any missing members of your family, or friends or colleagues. Many have been registered already, but we believe there are still many left to report. This is important information that may assist us in trying to uncover what has happened.
“Lastly, I would like to thank everyone for their patience so far. We will endeavor to bring you an update whenever we can until this situation is resolved. Until that time, please remain patient and calm, please report your missing loved ones, and please do not be concerned for any loved ones you have been separated from. They are being cared for and they will remain safe.
“Together we will work, and together we will get to the bottom of this situation. Thank you. And God bless America.”
*
“Why the barriers?” Karen whispered, looking over at Peter. Her caramel hair was alight with the glow of the TV, and this, along with the scarf around her nose and mouth, gave her an odd appearance.
Peter stared back at her, but did not answer.
“Peter, maybe I should turn myself in? Go into the Clean Zone.”
“No.”
“But we saw what they did to those who resisted segregation. What do you think they’ll do to those found hiding where they shouldn’t be?”
“You’ll be fine here, Karen. This will pass in a few days.”
Josh looked at his father. “But what if we’re contagious?”
“If we’re contagious, then she’s already been exposed. Removing her now will do nothing.”
“But the president—” Karen began.
“Is covering his ass!” Peter said. “You’ll be fine. This will pass.”
She stared into his eyes. “Thousands are missing, Peter. Thousands. This won’t go away in a few days.”
“It will.” Peter said. “They’ll sort it out.”
“That’s what they thought about the Berlin Wall too, and how many years did that stand?”
“We’ve made our decision,” Peter said firmly, his thin face accentuating his worry. “We stay together as a family.”
Karen stared at him. Peter took her gloved hand in his and held it tight.
“We’re in this together,” he told her. “Forever.” Karen’s eyes glistened, and she slid her other hand over his.
Abbie noticed Josh staring at the two of them. The look on his face showed a mixture of curiosity, sadness, anger, and maybe even resentment.
“We just need to stay calm. You heard the presid—” Peter’s voice cut off at the sound of a low-flying helicopter. In panic, Jos
h grabbed his mother and pulled her to the floor. They lay still and held their breath, staring at each other until the sound of the chopper faded away.
When it did, they both slumped their bodies with relief. Karen brushed her hand over Josh’s cheek, then quietly began to sob.
*
Abbie sat in Josh’s room, staring sadly across the street at her house bathed in the afternoon sun. She desperately wanted to be back in her own room, but at the same time she was scared to enter the empty house. Scared to face the fact that her entire family was missing.
Still, she felt uncomfortable relying on the Chalmer family for support when clearly they had their own problems to resolve. They were grieving their missing son and hiding Karen, and she also sensed something else going on in their relationship, but didn’t know what it was.
Josh watched her, looking across the street to her house. “That ship . . . they could come back,” he said quietly.
Abbie looked at him. “I just . . . feel awkward,” she said honestly. “I hardly know you. I feel like I’m intruding here.”
“Yeah,” Josh said quietly, looking down at his feet. “I know the feeling.”
Abbie stared at him, wondering what he meant. Josh saw the look, hesitated, then spoke.
“We moved here, to Victoryville, to save the family,” he said. “At least that’s what my dad says.” He began to play with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. “We had to move here because he messed up. He messed up, and now he’s trying to fix things. Me and my brother were dragged out here into the sticks, so he could suck up to mom.”
The Time of the Stripes Page 9
