by Lissa Bryan
Mindy shook her head. “That’s the key, isn’t it? If people want it. How many people did we decide wouldn’t fit here? How many people does Marcus have? I don’t think they want America, or Colby, for that matter. They don’t want to build anything. They want to take. It feels like we’ve descended into madness.”
Justin gave her a small smile. “There were always people who just wanted to take, even before the Crisis stripped away our veneer of civilization.”
Carly’s throat was aching again but not because of injury. She blinked her stinging eyes hard. “It wasn’t a veneer. It was something I believed in.”
“You still can.” Justin tucked a strand of her caramel-colored hair behind her ear. “It’s not impossible to be a moral person. Your definitions might just need updating.”
“Compromising?”
“No, updating. Shifting to acknowledge the change in your circumstances. And that’s sometimes going to create tough questions. What we need to ask ourselves is whether Michael is a threat to our community.”
“I’m not sure,” Carly said. “I suppose we’ll just have to watch him and see if it was a momentary … breakdown, or if he’s unable to control his behavior.”
“And if he is unable to control himself?” Justin met her eyes, and Carly had to look away.
“We’ll make that decision then, okay? It’s too much for me right now. Because I know anything that happens to Michael is going to have to involve Stacy. If we … threw him out, Stacy would insist on going with him. She wouldn’t leave a child alone in the wilderness. And we can’t lose our doctor.”
Justin nodded. “We have to think along practical lines first and foremost. First is the safety of our community, but there is a price we have to pay for it.”
There was always a price. Carly just didn’t know if it was a price that was going to be too much for them to pay.
It was almost the full seventy-two hours later that Justin heard shouting and ran for the gate. He reached it as Pearl drove the wagon through. He scanned the scene: horse healthy and uninjured, and the human driver was also unmarked. The wagon bed was full, a tarp pulled over the top of it. Pearl waved and chatted but didn’t slow the wagon, headed straight for the barn.
“Later,” Justin said to them as she pulled inside, and he tugged the door closed after them.
Pearl hopped down out of the driver’s seat and answered the anxious question in his eyes as he approached. “I’ve got it. And a good deal of other supplies. Medicines and things Stacy needed. Even some surgical gear.”
Justin almost collapsed in sheer relief.
“The place had been looted, but it seems they only took the painkillers. There were lots of antibiotics and antivirals left. Other things, too. I may make another trip back when things settle down. How is she?”
“Sick,” Justin said, and he apologized as soon as he heard how tart the word sounded.
Pearl cut him off mid-word. “I understand. Here.” She tugged up a corner of the tarp and lifted out a plastic milk crate. “They had everything on your list, so you can try a few different kinds if need be.”
Justin yanked Pearl into his arms and gave her a hard hug. She awkwardly patted his shoulders until he released her.
“Sorry. I know you’re not a hugger, but I’m not good with words.”
She smiled. “I understand.”
Justin snatched up the first box of meds he put his hands on.
“Give her the first dose and then come back,” Pearl said. “I need to talk to you.”
He waved a hand to show he’d heard but didn’t slow his pace. He went into the bedroom where Carly slept. Mindy was seated beside her, reading, and she let out a gasp of relief when she saw the small box of pills in his hand. His fingers shook as he removed the pill from its packaging.
“Take this, Carly,” he murmured. He lifted her and slipped the pill between her lips and tilted the cup of water up to her mouth. She drank greedily, then fell back with a sigh.
“You’ll feel better soon,” he said.
“I love you,” Carly whispered. “I need you to know—”
“Of course I know,” Justin said. Her fevered mind had forgotten they already had this conversation. He didn’t want to have it again.
“In case—”
“Don’t talk like that.” He bent and gave her a light kiss. Her poor lips felt so warm and dry. He dabbed them with lip balm and refreshed the cool cloth on her forehead. “I’ll be back, honey. Rest.”
She nodded. He heard her breathing change to that of slumber before he even reached the bedroom door.
Pearl was currying Shadowfax’s coat. Justin took another brush from the peg and began working on the other side, combing out some of the snarls in Shadowfax’s mane.
“I take it drugs weren’t the only thing you found.” He nodded over at the wagon.
“I wanted to talk to you before I took this stuff to Stacy. I have some papers I want you to see.”
“What sort of papers?”
“Orders for vaccinations,” Pearl said. She met his eyes. “Vaccinations made by Baker-Lewis. A certain type of flu vaccination was mailed to very specific locations. It struck me as odd they’d want to make sure these certain types of vaccines were sent to certain areas. Certain doctors’ offices, even.”
“We didn’t find anything like that at Cederna headquarters.” Justin continued to brush, but his movements were slow, mechanical.
“As you noted, some of the documents could have burned, or maybe they just weren’t there in the first place.” Pearl licked her lips. “Listen, Justin, let me tell it to you my way. When I got to the distribution center, it was abandoned, like I expected. I brought Shadowfax into one of the loading bays and parked her down there while I scouted for the stuff we’d need and made note of other things I knew Stacy could use, like antibiotics with a good shelf life. I gathered up Carly’s stuff first, and then I thought I heard a noise. I went upstairs to an office above the warehouse. I could see down where Shadowfax was, and I set up a sniper post there, ready for trouble. While I was waiting, my eye was caught by some papers on the desk. I started reading them, and that’s when I noticed the name signed at the bottom … Kirgan Lewis.”
Justin jerked at the sound of the name. “Are you sure?”
She went to the wagon and withdrew a piece of paper from one of the boxes. Justin couldn’t read it. The letters seemed to scatter all over the paper, but he could see the signature at the bottom, bold and clear. It was a signature he’d seen dozens of times on his own orders, on his discharge papers.
For a long moment, Justin stared at it, as though willing it to change, willing it to be different, and he would feel so relieved … so relieved.
But it didn’t change. It was Lewis’s signature.
Lewis … Baker-Lewis.
It felt like the bottom had dropped out of his world. He gripped the side of the wagon and closed his eyes for a moment until the sensation of vertigo had passed. When he opened them, he found Shadowfax and Pearl watching him with almost identical expressions of concern. He gave them both a brief smile to let them know he was all right, but it felt more like a grimace. His gaze was drawn back to the paper clutched in his hand. The harder he tried to read the text above the scrawled signature, the worse it got.
Justin thrust it back at Pearl. “What does it say?”
Her voice was gentle. “It’s a memo ordering some batches of Baker-Lewis vaccine shipped to certain locations in lieu of the Cederna-made vaccine. I’m sure it confused the hell out of everyone … wondering why he wanted batches sent to specific locations.”
“Read them off,” Justin said, and Pearl complied, listing the cities and, in some cases, the specific physicians who should receive the vaccine.
Justin sat down on the stacked bags of corn. It was sit down or fall down. “Dr. Randolph Michaelson, of Chicago,” he said. “My doctor.”
Pearl crouched down beside him. “Justin I don’t know what you want t
o do with this information. I know that Carly suspected—”
He gave a hollow laugh. “She was right. It was the vaccine that gave us the immunity. But it wasn’t Cederna. It was the one made by Baker-Lewis.”
“I thought … well … Kirgan is an unusual name.”
“That it is.” Justin stood. “He usually went by K. Lewis, unless he was signing something formal. Such as an order to send life-saving vaccine to specific locations.” He threw the currycomb, and it struck the wall with a bang loud enough to make Shadowfax jump. “He knew. He fucking knew.”
Pearl nodded.
Justin paced. His mind replayed a conversation from long ago.
“They couldn’t stop it, you know.” Lewis twirled a pen in his fingers, and his lips were quirked in a tiny smile. “Their quarantine models are outdated, designed to protect a population from a slow-moving contagion. Not something that spreads with a cough on an airplane that makes stops in cities all over the world. Without fast, decisive action, they’ll lose control almost immediately. And when have you ever known the government to take fast, decisive action? It would be over before they decided to enforce the quarantine orders. Far too late.”
Justin stopped in his tracks and spun on his heel to face Pearl again. “Why? For Christ’s sake why? Why would he do it?”
“I don’t know,” Pearl said. “I don’t know why anyone could do such an evil thing, but someone did. And it looks like he made sure the vaccine went to specific locations before the virus was released. To your doctor’s office. Did he know …”
“He knew I got a physical every year in February,” Justin said. He rubbed the back of his hand over his lips.
Your predictability, Justin … that and your emotions …
“Excuse me,” he said, and it was as though the words had left his mouth of their own accord. Justin found his feet functioning on autopilot as well, carrying him outside the barn, through the yard, toward the tree where he perched to watch the hole in the fence. He passed some of the patrol as he walked, and as if from a distance, he watched himself exchange pleasantries and listen to a report before moving on. He climbed his tree and settled in the crook of a branch, staring sightlessly over the stillness of the swamp.
He would have to tell the townspeople. But how would they react, knowing it was the commander of his Unit that had done this to them? How could they ever trust him again?
He needed to go back, to take care of Carly and get her started on the road to recovery, but he also needed just a few moments alone. A few minutes to digest that everything he’d ever believed about honor and integrity was a lie. Lewis, who had seen qualities in Justin he didn’t know he had himself. Lewis, who had taught Justin everything he knew, who had trained his mind and body. He had taken a worthless foster kid who was going down the predictable path, and had turned him into a disciplined warrior.
Things fall apart, Justin. The center does not hold.
Indeed, it did not. Justin’s head fell back against the rough tree trunk and he stared up at the leafy canopy overhead.
“Take this.”
“Wha—” Carly opened her eyes and blinked hard to try to focus. Justin’s face was above hers, and he had two small pills pinched between his fingers. She opened her mouth and he popped them inside, followed by a sip of water.
His eyes were red. Carly frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Something we’ll talk about later,” he said. “Concentrate on getting better.”
“How’s Dagny?” She gripped his hand. Surely if there were something wrong with the baby, he’d tell her right away.
“I’m sure she’s fine. I haven’t seen her today, though.”
“Why not? Justin, she needs to see us. This has to be so hard on her. Please, take time for her. Don’t—”
“Don’t what? Neglect her?” His eyes flashed like black lightning. “Are you saying I’m—” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s been a tough day and I’m taking it out on you.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “I need you back, Carly. I’m making shit decisions and causing more trouble than I’m fixing. If I don’t get you back in action soon, we’re going to have a revolt on our hands.”
“How long does this stuff take to work?”
“You should be right as rain in three days,” he replied. “Assuming Stacy diagnosed the right parasite. If she didn’t, we’ll have to start over with a different drug, and that will be a seven-day regimen. I had Pearl go ahead and get those meds, too. Just in case.”
Carly pulled the blankets up to her chin. “I’ll never complain about being hot again once I get this chill out of my bones.”
“I’ll go make you some soup,” Justin said.
“That’s something else I won’t miss.”
He chuckled, but it was dry. He headed up the stairs and grabbed the first can of soup that came to hand. He dumped it into a pot on the camp stove and turned it on. He didn’t notice his hand was shaking until he’d sloshed out half of the water he meant to pour into the pot with the soup. Putting the can down, he took a deep breath. He had to get a grip.
He remembered being a little punk who thought he was a hardass, looking across the desk into Lewis’s eyes and seeing what a real hardass looked like. Over the years, he’d thought Lewis had no conscience, no mercy, and no qualms at doing what had to be done for the security or interests of the United States. But he’d at least thought Lewis had loyalty to his nation and its people.
What did it mean that he’d tried to ensure Justin would survive by sending a shipment of the vaccine to his doctor’s office? He ran through his contact list in his mind and didn’t find more matches with locations where the vaccine had been sent, so he hadn’t been trying to save all of the men in the Unit.
Or was he thinking the wrong way? Had Lewis merely been trying to spread the Baker-Lewis vaccine wide to cover Cederna’s tracks? But why interfere in the shipment process at all and direct shipments to be sent to those very specific locations? What had been in Juneau, Alaska, that Lewis wanted to protect with the handful of doses sent to that city?
And then he recalled his dream where Carl Daniels’s photograph stood on Lewis’s file cabinet. Carl Daniels, living in Juneau, Alaska, with his family when the Infection struck. But Carl hadn’t gotten vaccinated that year, and Lewis hadn’t called Carl and suggested—or ordered—him to do so.
What about the survivors in France? He’d talked to his friend Carter, who had been immune, though Carter’s wife had become Infected. Carter reported encountering other survivors, but Justin hadn’t seen any orders for shipments of vaccine overseas. Was there some level of natural immunity, even without the vaccine? Or had there been a French company making the same formulation? That last thought was unsettling, because of the amount of advanced planning it would have required. Justin preferred to believe the Infection and the immunity conferred by the vaccines had been accidental.
These were all questions Carly had asked, but ones Justin preferred not to ponder too much. He knew they were unlikely to ever find any answers, and so it seemed pointless to dwell on it. Now he had answers to questions he would never have wanted to ask, and they had shaken him to the core.
Drawing the paper from his pocket, he stared at it. The words seemed tangled together, the letters an unreadable jumble. The one thing that remained solid was that signature.
The soup had begun to boil. He turned off the burner and poured it into a bowl, then fished a spoon from the drawer. Carly was dozing when he entered their bedroom. She opened her eyes and smiled at him sleepily. He helped her stack the pillows against the headboard and then positioned the tray over her lap before plunking the bowl of steaming soup on it.
“Bon appétit,” he said, remembering his surprise when he’d learned she spoke fluent French.
“Merci beaucoup, mon amour.” She took a sip of the soup off her spoon and told him it was good.
He sat down on the edge of the bed below h
er feet. “I have to tell you something,” he said, before he could chicken out.
She paused with the spoon halfway to her lips. “What’s that?”
Now that he was committed, he felt almost relieved to tell her. “Baker-Lewis …”
“The vaccine-maker? Yeah?”
“Lewis. My Lewis. My commander was the Lewis of Baker-Lewis.”
She dropped the spoon, and a spatter of red tomato soup appeared on her pajama top.
“Eat,” he said, picking up the spoon again and handing it to her. Slowly, he told her about the memo, directing the vaccine be sent to specific locations, including the handful of doses sent to Juneau and to his own doctor’s office.
“He meant for you to survive,” she said.
“Eat.” Justin gestured to her spoon, and she scooped some soup into her mouth. “He sent the vaccine to my doctor, but he couldn’t be sure I’d get it. What if I’d been late getting my physical or I’d already gotten my flu shot elsewhere?” But even as he said it, he heard Lewis in his mind: You’re predictable, Justin. A creature of habit.
He cleared his throat. “Carly, do you remember your dad saying anything about Lewis? Kirgan Lewis?”
She frowned as she thought. “No, I don’t remember ever hearing that name. He mentioned his commander once or twice, but I don’t think he ever named him.”
“Do you know if he was in contact with him?”
“I don’t think so. If he was, Dad never mentioned it. Why?”
“Just something I thought I remembered, but I might have been wrong.” Justin shook his head. His dream must have been just that—a dream and nothing more.
Carly put the tray aside and scooted down to pull him into her arms. He laid his head on her shoulder.
“You knew all along it was intentional,” she said. “The Infection wasn’t something natural, you told me. You said the lethality rate alone was enough to tell you it couldn’t be a natural virus. And it broke out in the world’s most populous cities simultaneously, so the release had to be intentional. So if it was intentional, it had to be done by someone high up in the government. Someone with access. And I don’t think they did it on a whim. There was a reason. Maybe we’ll never know why. We probably won’t, and even if we did know, it probably wouldn’t make sense to us.” She brushed the hair back from his forehead and drew back to look into his eyes. “But he wanted you to survive, Justin. Maybe he knew the world would need people like you.”
