The Jakarta Pandemic

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The Jakarta Pandemic Page 32

by Steven Konkoly


  “So, first things first. I’m not going to point because everyone’s watching everyone around here. If you look down the road toward the right, two houses past mine, you’ll see a yellow house with blue doors. That’s the Carters’ house, and they vanished a few weeks ago, maybe earlier. Nobody really knows where they went, but I haven’t seen any signs of anyone living there, and I keep a pretty tight eye on the houses in the immediate vicinity. You should go around to the garage and bust a window to open the door. Then pray that the door from the garage into the house isn’t locked. If it is, you might have to force your way in. Make sure to patch up the window with something. Cardboard, wood, anything,” Alex said.

  “Thank you so much. I really can’t tell you how much this means to us,” the woman said.

  Ed leaned toward the car and peered into the back seat, his eye caught by something. Alex saw this and felt his body start to tense.

  “Hey, looks like they have a golden puppy stuffed back there between the boxes,” Ed said, easing back from the car with a smile.

  “Yeah, her name is Karma. She’s really friendly. You guys can go ahead and open the back door and…”

  “Not a good idea out here. Anyway, the Carters’ house has seen a lot of traffic this morning. Some people have gone around back to take a look. If you see any windows broken, or any doors busted, someone might be there already. Drive on back, and I’ll point you in the direction of another house,” he said.

  “Also, keep to yourselves, and don’t get involved with anyone on the block. Definitely don’t mention the fact that you have medical supplies and food, or that you’re a doctor. Your neighbors to both sides have been hit with the flu, and some of the neighbors are not very stable at this point. The last thing you want anyone to know is that you have anti-virals or medication,” he said, and the couple nodded.

  “I can’t stress the importance of staying out of sight. Don’t answer the door for any of the people you see driving or walking around, and get your car in the garage immediately,” Alex continued.

  “Sounds good. Thank you again. By the way, I’m Ben Glassman, and this is my wife Hannah,” the driver said.

  “Alex and Ed,” Alex said.

  “I’m Ed,” he said dryly.

  “And this will probably be the last time we talk until this whole thing blows over. Nothing personal, but we pretty much keep to ourselves. You’re on your own when you get into the Carters’ house,” Alex said.

  Hannah looked hurt by his statement, but Alex truly didn’t care. He allowed himself to like them only enough to justify using them as a block for any future interlopers in the neighborhood. He’d much rather have this couple in the Carters’ house than Red Sox.

  “Thank you again, guys. Really, if there’s anything I can do for you. If anyone gets hurt or sick. Really, you, uh…you know where to find us,” Ben said.

  “Thank you,” Hannah said, and she rolled up her window as the car moved forward and stopped one house past the Carters’.

  At least they didn’t pull right into the driveway. That would have been way too obvious.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Friday, November 29, 2013

  Kate sat down at the kitchen table as Alex surveyed the remains of yesterday’s Thanksgiving Day feast. Barley mixed with dried cranberries and sliced almonds; green bean and fried onion casserole; sweet and sour lima beans; chickpea soup with dried dill; homemade wheat bread and mashed potatoes with gravy. The only thing missing was the main course.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked, sitting down.

  He paused and chuckled. The kids started to fill their plates and pass the dishes around. Alex took the beans from Emily.

  “I was thinking about the last time we had turkey for Thanksgiving,” he said, still smiling.

  “We’ve had turkey?” Ryan asked.

  “Not really, maybe when you were like one or two. Could that be right?” he asked Kate.

  “No…well…no, I think I was making fish at that point. Maybe at one of our parents’ houses? I was well into pushing my meat-free agenda on you when Ryan was born, and I know for a fact you haven’t eaten meat since you got back from Iraq.”

  “Daddy ate meat before the war?” Emily asked.

  “Yes, Daddy was a disgusting meat eater at one point.”

  “So were you…at one point,” he said.

  “Why did you stop after coming back from the war?” Ryan asked him.

  Kate looked at Alex, clearly signaling him to tread carefully.

  “Well, let’s just say that I saw people eating things over there that really made me think hard about what it means to eat animals,” he answered, looking to Kate for approval, which he could tell that he just barely won.

  “Like what?” Emily asked.

  “I really don’t want to think about it, sweetie, and neither do you,” Alex said, setting down the last dish being rotated.

  “All right, let’s all close our eyes and take a moment here.”

  They were all silent for several seconds until Emily interrupted.

  “But I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “I know, sweetie, but Daddy is really bothered by it, so we don’t want to upset him. Let’s eat, everyone,” Kate said.

  “I think I know what happened. Probably the same stuff that’s happening in the big cities they’re talking about on the internet. No food, and…”

  “Ryan,” Alex said forcefully, “not another word on the subject. We can talk about this later. Just you and me. But not now. Understand?”

  Ryan looked hurt by his sudden reprimand. “Yes, Dad,” he said and started eating.

  “What, like eating other people?” Emily blurted.

  “No. No. Nobody’s eating other people. That’s crazy. I never saw that in Iraq…and that was a really messed up place,” Alex said, warning Ryan with his eyes.

  “Where do they get these ideas?” Kate asked no one in particular.

  “From zombie movies,” Emily said.

  “I didn’t let her watch any of those movies. I haven’t seen any myself,” Ryan interjected.

  “Nobody said you did, but since you brought it up so quickly…” Kate said.

  “He didn’t let me see it, but I snuck upstairs when he was watching one during a sleepover with James and Justin…”

  “You freakin’ tattletale,” Ryan griped, throwing his fork down onto his plate.

  “Easy there, Mr. Ryan, I knew you guys were watching that. I crept up the stairs far enough to hear what you guys were watching,” Alex said.

  “So you knew they were watching rated R movies up there?” Kate asked.

  “Why am I the one that always ends up in trouble?” Alex complained.

  “Because you’re the adult that is supposed to be making appropriate decisions for our children, and you sanction the watching of zombie movies.”

  “Well, I didn’t really sanction the movies. They didn’t know that I knew what they were watching, and if they didn’t know, then it’s impossible to sanction. Sanctioning is more of an active type thing,” Alex said, wondering if he was making any sense.

  “That didn’t even make sense. Anyway, I think it’s time that we cut the cable service on the third floor down to basic cable. God knows what they’ll be watching and ordering next.”

  “But Mom, that’s the only movie we watched that was rated R,” Ryan whined.

  “And that’ll be the last, so there’s no problem. Just be happy you’re still hooked up to Xbox Live. Start eating, everyone,” Kate said, ending the argument.

  Ryan continued the argument by mumbling between bites.

  “You barely watch any TV up there anyway,” she added, feeding back into the argument, “and you’ll still have all of the other channels, just no movie channels or OnDemand.”

  “Pretty much cuts out all of the cool movies…”

  “Hey, you can watch all of the movies you want in our room or down here. Anyway, we’ll be lucky to still
have cable after this weekend’s storm. Did you see the forecast for Sunday?” Alex asked, directing the question to Kate.

  “Yeah. They’re still calling for an ice storm Sunday morning, followed by a decent snow storm later in the day. I guess we don’t have to change the cable right now, but I don’t want you watching rated R movies without asking us first. There are some pretty disturbing movies out there, Ryan.”

  “Some of his games are pretty disturbing. Like most of the war games,” Emily said and continued eating.

  Alex cast Emily a quizzical look and lightly shook his head in disbelief. To the casual observer, her comment would pass as an innocent remark made by a child incapable of plotting to foment further criticism of her brother. But Alex had closely studied her behavior and tactics over the past few years, and come to the conclusions that his beautiful, sweet, smiling daughter was a highly intelligent, self-aware, and fully competent agitator. Unlike Ryan, she held back and waited for just the right moment to launch one of her nearly imperceptible time bombs into the fray. Emily avoided her dad’s gaze, staring at her plate. He suspected that she was on to him.

  “Yeah, well, that’s another problem…” Kate started.

  “Are you kidding me? Now you’re gonna sweat the games I’m playing? Dad thinks they’re fine.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’re fine for you. Maybe for him, though I’ll go to my grave not understanding why a grown man enjoys playing video games.”

  “They’re fun, and it’s not real. End of story.” Alex turned and stared at Emily, who continued to avoid his gaze. “I’m on to you little one.”

  “What?” she mumbled with fake innocence, taking a long drink of water.

  “How bad do you think the storm will be?” Ryan asked.

  “Well, it doesn’t look terrible. The ice aspect is the problem. If we get ice and high winds, the whole area could lose power. But for us, it won’t really make a difference. We can make our own power with the solar panels…at least enough to keep the lights and heat going. And the TVs. Don’t worry, I know what’s critical to you guys,” he said, and both kids laughed a little.

  Alex looked at them as they laughed.

  Amazing. Almost thirty days into this and they don’t look any different than they did in the middle of September.

  He quickly glanced at Kate and caught her watching both of them. She smiled slightly and Alex knew that she was happy to see them both laughing.

  “We really don’t have anything to worry about, guys. We’re going to be fine, and at some point in the spring, or maybe earlier, this whole thing will be over, and we’ll all be able to go back to our normal lives, jobs, sports, friends…and most importantly, school,” Alex said dramatically.

  “School isn’t that bad, Dad,” Emily said.

  “Yeah, I’d trade this quarantine for school any day,” Ryan added.

  “It takes a pandemic to get my son psyched for school,” Kate said.

  “I’m not psyched about school, Mom. Just more psyched than this,” Ryan said and put on a forced smile.

  The phone rang and Alex glanced over his shoulder at the receiver on the kitchen island. Calls to the house were pretty rare at this point.

  “You should answer that,” Kate said.

  Alex got up from the table and walked over to the phone. “Hello, Ed,” he said, answering the call. “What’s up?” He walked toward the library.

  “I don’t know. I’ve had my eye on this one car for the past hour or so. Just circling the neighborhood, over and over again. Really slow like the rest of them…”

  “They all do that,” Alex said, stepping inside the room.

  “Yeah, but this one stopped in front of the McCarthys’ house like thirty minutes ago and hasn’t moved. Nobody got out. It’s just sitting there under the street light. I think they’re planning to spend the night there,” Ed said.

  “That’s ridiculous. They’re probably going to canvas the neighborhood on foot in a few minutes, or something.”

  “Is everything all right?” Kate called from the kitchen.

  Alex covered the receiver on the phone. “Yeah. Everything’s okay, honey. Just talking about a car that’s still cruising the neighborhood.”

  “Sorry. That was Kate,” he said, returning to the call.

  “How’s she holding up with all of the visitors?” Ed asked.

  “Fine. Just a little jumpy having people crawl around the neighborhood. We’ve had a few groups walk up onto our deck in back and try to peer inside. Not sure how they missed my signs, but who knows if they even speak English. How’s Sam doing?”

  “Same thing. Nervous about these people. I’m nervous about them, too. Sarah Quinn called about an hour ago to talk to Sam. She heard from Jack Bartlett that a family moved into the Cohens’ house,” he said, recalling exactly who they had guided to the Cohens’.

  “The balls on these people. How are the Quinns doing?” Alex asked.

  “Not bad, given the circumstances. Sarah’s not looking forward to losing power. Says if the storm doesn’t kill it this weekend, the grid probably won’t hold up for another week anyway. Have you heard that too? I saw it on a couple of sites, but I haven’t heard word one on the news.”

  “Which news channel? They’re all mostly broadcasting national coverage and federal updates, and I think the feds are trying to keep the national coal reserve numbers under wraps. I’ve seen estimates that fall in the week to two weeks range. Once the coal reserves at any of the power plants are depleted, say adios to the grid. We’ll be lucky to get past this weekend. Did Sarah say anything about the Bartletts?”

  “Yeah, I guess they’re doing okay. Their little girl Grace got hit the worst, but she’s doing better. The rest of them didn’t get hit nearly as bad. Jack didn’t get it at all, which is weird.”

  “Who knows? He might still come down with it. One of Ryan’s friends…his family got the same thing. Mild cases. Lucky if you ask me, but all well within the realm of statistical probability I suppose.”

  “Yeah, they’re pretty sure about the case fatality rate at this point. Right around twenty percent, with a clinical attack rate of forty percent or so. Odds are definitely in your favor if you get this thing,” Ed said.

  “I’m still not rushing out to get it,” Alex replied.

  “Neither am I.”

  Alex heard what sounded like a solitary firecracker explode. “Did you hear that?” he asked Ed, rushing out of the library into the kitchen.

  “What was that?” Kate asked sharply from the dining room.

  He walked swiftly, trying to conceal his panic.

  Not a firecracker, that’s for sure.

  “Honey, why don’t you take the kids down into the basement for a few minutes? Follow your mom, guys. Ed? Did you hear that?” he repeated and moved around the house shutting off lights.

  “Hold on. Look at that. He just shot the light out,” Ed whispered.

  Alex heard Ed tell his own family to get into the basement as Kate and the kids disappeared down the stairs, Kate last. She left the door open, and he walked to the head of the stairs.

  “Just in case someone is shooting. I think everything is fine,” he said to her.

  Kate nodded and turned the corner with the kids.

  “Ed, did you say someone shot out the street light?”

  “Yeah. I ran to one of the windows and saw someone getting back into the car that’s parked under the streetlight. The light is out now. I thought the guy had a gun, but I can’t be sure,” he said.

  “Are you sure the light was on before?”

  “Positive. Actually, I was wondering why he would park directly under that street light.”

  “How many people are in the car? Were you using binoculars?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah, I have a small bird watching pair. I couldn’t see how many people were in the car.”

  “But when he opened the door and the lights went on, could you see other people?”

  “The lights d
idn’t go on. It’s pitch black over in that corner.”

  “Are you sure the lights didn’t go on? What kind of car is it?” Alex asked, heading upstairs with his own binoculars.

  “I’m sure the lights didn’t go on. It looks like a gray or maybe blue Volvo station wagon, one of the new ones. I couldn’t see the guy very well in the dark, but it looked like he was carrying something. Why would he park under a light and then shoot it out?” Ed wondered aloud.

  Alex continued up the stairs and turned left to the master bedroom. “Hold on,” he said, walking across the bedroom to one of the northeast windows facing the Thompsons’ house. He chose the one closest to the street and raised the shade an inch. He peered through and had an unobstructed view of the car. Even in the dark, he could tell that the car was parked on the wrong side of the road, facing his own house.

  Interesting.

  He studied the car for a few seconds and closed his eyes to create a mental map.

  “You still there? This is freaking my wife out,” Ed broke in.

  “Yeah, I’m here. I have eyes on the vehicle…”

  “Eyes what?”

  “Eyes on the vehicle. Don’t you watch any military or police movies? I’m watching the vehicle. My eyes are on the vehicle, Ed.”

  “Why can’t you guys just talk like normal people and just say I’m watching the vehicle?”

  “Because it doesn’t sound as cool. Anyway, a couple of things disturb me here…”

  “Like the gun?”

  “If he has a gun. But yes, that’s number one on my list,” Alex said.

  “Let’s assume he has a gun,” Ed said.

  “I’m with you on that. But here’s what’s really creeping me out about this guy; he turned off the internal lights on purpose. He thought that one out. He knew that if he shot out the light, someone might take a look, and he didn’t want them to see into the car when he hopped back in. I’m not sure I would have thought of that. This guy’s either really smart, or he has some experience not wanting to be identified at night. Both scenarios bother me.”

 

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