Jessica was noticed by the crowd almost as soon as she appeared with Candice, and shouting started. Their voices, their shouts and yells and pleas, didn’t seem to register with her as more than noise. Jessica just sort of watched them curiously as she approached. It wasn’t until she was close enough to make out faces as more than just “object, face, human” that she could make out some of the words.
“What’s happening up there?”
“Are my kids okay?”
“What was that shooting we heard?”
Jessica shook her head. Two of the police had turned and noticed her approaching. As she watched, the other three had raised things in their hands, and were shouting back at the crowd. Jessica was grateful to see they weren’t pointing guns, but beyond that couldn’t honestly say she had any real reaction. Her eyes lit on her car, the Accord still sitting on the sidewalk at the edge of the road, just in front of the roadblock. It looked unmolested.
“Ma’am, are you injured?” one of the officers said, and she shifted her gaze away from her car to see he’d separated from the others manning the roadblock to approach her.
Jessica shook her head. He pointed at her arm, and she glanced back down as she again remembered the blood Alicia had transferred when she’d clutched at Jessica. “This isn’t my blood.” Jessica said out loud.
“Are you sure?” he persisted.
“Yes. I’m fine. The firefighters told me to go home.” she said.
“Okay. How are you getting home?” he said doubtfully.
Jessica realized he thought she was in shock, which she probably was. But she had a purpose, and she knew what to do. She could drive home. That much she could do. “My car’s right there.” she said, pointing with her right hand at the Accord.
He glanced at it, then back to her. “That’s your car?”
Jessica reached into her pocket and displayed the keys, showing the Honda logo on the ignition key. “Give me a ticket if you want, but I was told to take my daughter and go home.”
He shook his head. “Turn right here, go up that street.” he pointed to the right of the roadblock, at the cross street. “You’ll never make it through the crowd if you try to go that way.” From the look of the crowd that was mostly spilling up the street towards 124, Jessica agreed with him.
Jessica nodded again. He fell into step ahead of her, shouting at the crowd as they continued yelling questions at Jessica. She had no answers for them, for any of them, and just kept walking. The police officer pulled a metal cylinder out of a loop on his belt, and waved it around at the crowd. Whatever it was, it was sufficient to clear a path and allow Jessica to reach the door of her car.
Opening the driver’s door as the officer physically blocked people off, Jessica put Candice inside. “Let go of my hand now. Scoot over.” she told her daughter. Candice seemed reluctant to let go, but did after a moment. Jessica’s left hand felt very cold as the girl released her grip, and she realized her palm was sweaty. She hit the button on the door panel to lock the doors, then slid into the driver’s seat as soon as Candice has clambered over to the passenger side.
Slamming the door, Jessica quickly started the engine and drove away before the police lost control of the crowd and they mobbed the car. She drove down the small side street to the next intersection, then braked at the stop sign and reached over to Candice’s side of the car. She drew the seatbelt down and buckled it across her daughter, then put her own on before looking to see that the way was clear.
Taking her foot off the brake, she turned right and drove to the next intersection, which was Highway-124. As she stopped to wait for the light, she noticed her hands were shaking. After a moment, she clenched the steering wheel tightly and waited for the light to change.
The full impact of the situation didn’t start to hit her until she realized she was on her street, only a few houses away from hers. Jessica had no memory of the drive, couldn’t have told anyone how, exactly, she’d gotten here. She had to clench the steering wheel tightly to keep her hands from shaking like an epileptic’s. It wasn’t like her to zone out like that behind the wheel.
Jessica pulled into the driveway, stopped in front of the garage, then remembered the clicker. Reaching over to Candice’s side, she pushed the button and watched as the garage door started rolling up. When it had retracted, she slid the Accord in and shut the engine off, very glad to be home. After a moment, she pulled the keys out of the ignition and turned to Candice.
“We’re home.” Jessica said. The little girl was sitting quietly in the seat, as she had the entire time, and didn’t respond. Jessica reached out and brushed her hand through her daughter’s hair, trying again. “Candy Bear, we’re home.”
Candice blinked, then looked at her mother. “We’re home.” she repeated dully, then reached to unbuckle her seatbelt before opening the door. As Candice got out, Jessica noticed her purse lying on the floorboard, and leaned over to pick it up out of sheer habit. She released her seatbelt and got out as Candice opened the kitchen door. Jessica followed, hitting the button on the wall control to start the garage door lowering before going inside and kicking the kitchen door closed behind her.
She watched as Candice went into the living room, then her attention was drawn to the blinking red light on the phone. Jessica walked over, and took the receiver off the wall cradle to look at the display. Seventeen missed calls. She frowned. She was on just about every telemarketing and advertiser’s list known to mankind, but that many calls with the day only half over was odd.
Then her eyes widened slightly, and she put the receiver back in the cradle before digging into her purse and finding her cell phone. Swiping the screen lock off, she saw there were twenty-five missed calls. Tapping quickly, she brought up the call list, and saw every one of them came from one of the same three numbers.
Glancing into the living room, Jessica saw Candice had seated herself on the living room sofa, right in the middle. She hadn’t turned on the television, and she hadn’t gotten down one of the books from the shelf, but she wasn’t crying, and Jessica saw she was breathing normally.
Jessica hesitated, then decided to make the call first. She tapped the screen to reverse one of the numbers on the call list, and held the phone up to her ear as it started ringing.
The first ring had barely finished when she heard the call get picked up, and then an anxious woman’s voice was answering.
Jessica drew a deep, relieved breath. “Hi Mom.”
“Jessica! Thank God! I’ve been calling and calling. Where are you?”
“I’m at home.” Jessica said quietly.
“Are you alright? Where are the kids?”
Jessica glanced into the living room again, where Candice was still sitting on the sofa, then pulled back into the kitchen and went over to the sink. “Do you know what’s going on?” she asked in a low voice.
Sharon Patterson was silent for a moment. “Well, the news said there’s some disease. The CDC is involved, and the governor was on a little while ago saying he’s declaring an emergency.”
“They’re right.” Jessica said, still speaking just above a whisper. “There is a . . . disease. Something. I don’t know. But it’s horrible Mom. Just horrible.”
“Jessica, you didn’t answer my question.” Sharon said. “Where are the kids?”
Jessica closed her eyes, leaning heavily on the sink and putting her hand on the edge and gripping tightly. “Candice is here with me.”
“And Joey and Sandra?” Sharon asked, her voice rising anxiously.
Jessica was silent for a moment, then shook her head slowly. Her voice broke as she answered her mother. “They’re sick.” she whispered.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know.” Jessica said, struggling to limit her breakdown to just her voice, and to keep her voice from rising hysterically. “I mean, they were at school. I heard on the radio something was happening, so I left work and went to get them. Candice is fine, but Joey and Sandra ha
ve . . . whatever it is. They told me the CDC is taking over the situation.”
“They?” Sharon asked quickly. “They who?”
“The firemen, the EMS crews. At the school. They said all the victims are going to be held by the CDC.”
“What’s wrong? Do they know what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think they do either.” Jessica said, sobbing slightly as she sucked down a deep breath. She knew if she started crying again, it might go on for a while. She couldn’t have that. She drew another breath, looking at the little violet plant on the window sill above the sink, happily growing in its pot. The window beyond revealed the backyard, which needed its grass cut. Jessica found the mundane view rather comforting at the moment.
“Why don’t you know? Where did they take my grandchildren?”
“Mom, I don’t know!” Jessica snapped, then glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t hear anything from the living room, and took three steps to peer around the edge of the wall. Her daughter was still on the sofa, still just sitting there.
“How can you not know? You’re their mother!”
“Mom!” Jessica said, feeling anger and actually welcoming it. The burn was helping her fend off the other emotions, the pain and sorrow, and the helplessness. “They won’t release them. They’re keeping everyone who’s got it. They gave me some information, some numbers, a site on the web, where I can check to find out what’s going on.”
“Have you checked yet?”
“Damnit Mom!” Jessica whispered angrily. “I went to the schools the second, the very second, I heard. They wouldn’t let me take Joey or Sandra, and wouldn’t tell me where they were taking them. I’ve only just walked in the door with Candice. You have no idea what I’ve been through, what Candice has been through. It was . . . Mom you have no idea how bad.”
“I’ve been watching the television.”
Jessica was momentarily stymied. “What’s it saying?”
“We’ve seen some things.” her mother said after a moment. “Even your father agrees with the governor. And you know that’s saying something.”
Jessica shrugged helplessly, unable to keep a shaky laugh from slipping past her lips. Her father was a die hard libertarian; as far as he was concerned, much past laying roads and funding schools and emergency services was too much for the government to be doing. “Dad’s home?”
“Yes, he closed the shop an hour ago.”
Jessica was silent, thinking. After a moment, she felt like crying all over again. She was thirty-nine years old, and had married, and buried, a wonderful man after having three lovely children with him. She was good at her job, doing by herself what Doctor Morris used to have two people handling before he hired her six years ago.
She’d navigated the funeral of her husband, been there for her kids through the entire grieving process, and gotten them and herself out the other side of it intact and whole. She’d hung on to the house, keeping the mortgage and insurance and medical bills all paid up, gotten the car fixed when it quit working a few months ago, and even mowed the grass regularly enough to keep the county from ticketing her.
And now, listening to her mother’s voice on the other end of the phone call, she was ashamed of the only thing that occurred to her to say.
“Jessica, are you there?”
She closed her eyes, and leaned on the sink again. “Mom, I need you.” she whispered. “Can you come down here?”
“Are you alright?” Sharon asked, sounding a little alarmed.
“I don’t know.” Jessica said, still whispering. “After Joey and Sandra . . . I’m not sure. I’m trying. I’m trying so hard. But I really need some help.”
“Is Candice alright?”
“She’s not sick.” Jessica answered. “But like I said, it was bad at the schools. She saw some things . . . it was bad Mom. Please, can you come down here?”
“Of course.” Sharon said immediately. “Hang on.”
Jessica heard her mother yelling at her father, telling him to put on his shoes and go start the car. He yelled something back, too faint for her to make out, but then her mother was back on the phone. “Jessica honey, we’ll be in the car shortly. Will you be alright until we can get there?”
“I’ll have to be.” Jessica said automatically.
“That’s right.” her mother said bracingly. “You’re the mom, you’ve got to be strong.”
“I’m trying, but I need help.”
“Honey, you be strong for Candice, and I’ll be strong for you.” her mother said. “Don’t you worry about a thing, just stay there in the house until we can make it down.”
“Okay.”
“Now, let me talk to Candice.” Sharon said next, using her own mom voice.
“Okay, hang on.” Jessica lowered the phone and went into the living room. Her daughter was in the exact same spot. Jessica sat down on the couch next to her and looked across the room. Candice was staring blankly at the television. Jessica put her arms around her daughter’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “Candice.”
The ten-year-old blinked, and turned to look up at her. Her expression didn’t change. Jessica held up the phone. “It’s grandma. She wants to talk to you.”
Candice looked at her for a moment, then reached out a hand. Jessica gave her the phone. Candice took it, then climbed up into her mother’s lap. Jessica wrapped her arms around the girl and rocked her gently as Candice put the phone to her ear.
“Hi grandma.” she said, then listened for a moment. “No, I’m okay.” Another pause, then “I’d like that.” Jessica continued rocking her as she listened again. “Yes, in my room.” Candice listened again, then nodded slightly. “Okay. Love you.”
Candice craned her head and looked up at Jessica. “Grandma wants to talk to you again.”
Jessica smiled and kissed her daughter’s forehead, then took the phone back. “Mom?”
“Jessica, I hear your father in the garage, so I’m going to hang up now so I can throw some things into a bag. But I’ve got my cell phone here in my purse, and we’re on the way. You should keep an eye on the news if you’re up to it.” Sharon said.
“I think I am, but it might be a problem.” Jessica said, thinking of Candice and what the reporting might be covering.
“I talked with Candice about that. She’s going to get her music player and use the head bud things.”
“Ear buds.” Jessica corrected automatically.
“Right. I think she probably wants to be with you, and that’s good. So she’s going to get those, and you’re going to stay informed so you know what’s happening. Alright?”
“Okay mom.”
“I love you honey. We’ll be there in a few hours.”
“I love you too. Drive safe.”
Her mother hung up, and Jessica glanced down at Candice. “Grandma says you want to listen to your MP3 player?”
“Yeah.” Candice said. “I’ll get it.” She slid out of Jessica’s lap and walked out of the room. A moment later, Jessica heard her on the stairs. Jessica leaned over and put the phone on the side table, then shifted her position to the end of the couch. She adjusted the throw pillow and settled herself comfortably, then picked up the remote for the entertainment center and waited.
Jessica supposed she ought to be ashamed of herself for having to lean on her parents to help her through this, but all she actually did feel was relief. Relief that they were on the way, that they’d be here soon to help her figure out what was supposed to happen. She realized, as she sat there waiting, that when she’d gotten home, she had no further plans.
The only plan had been to get home, with Candice; but beyond that, nothing had occurred to her. Even now, sitting on the couch, she realized the only plan, the only thoughts, she had were the ones her mom had just given her. Be with Candice and watch the news. She blinked several times as she felt her eyes starting to tear up a little. She couldn’t do that. She had to hang on a little longer.
A minute late
r, she heard footsteps on the stairs again, and Candice reappeared pushing the ear buds into her ears. The girl sat down next to Jessica, then rotated her legs as she stretched out on the sofa and laid her head in Jessica’s lap. As she looked at the MP3 player in her hand, Jessica hit the power button on the remote.
The familiar clicks and muffled whoomps sounded as the television and sound system speakers came to life. After a moment, the screen lit with the Emergency Broadcasting System, white letters displaying and scrolling across a black background. The scroll proclaimed something about a state of emergency having been declared for the Atlanta area.
Jessica glanced at the numbers showing on the cable box, then changed the channel over to one of the local affiliates. The bottom of the screen had scrolling text on it, like one of the financial or sports channels; something she couldn’t remember ever seeing on the local news before. Both nighttime anchors were at the desk, in the middle of the afternoon, with grave expressions as they faced the camera.
“–downtown looks like something out of a disaster film. A number of the hotels in the tourist district there seem to be overrun, though our WSB crews haven’t been able to get close enough to find out if they’re the source or are merely caught up in this horrifying event.
“The downtown Georgia State University campus is only a few blocks away from where the worst of the disturbances seem to be happening. And the capitol–” the man’s voice faltered suddenly, and he turned his head to the side and coughed quickly.
The female anchor took over for her colleague smoothly. “As Justin was saying, the capital building is about a mile away from the major hotels, and half a mile from the downtown GSU campus. Tamylin Carpenter, covering the story from the capitol, is telling us the governor has been evacuated. She filed this footage only minutes ago. Once again, we have to remind you, what you’re about to see may be disturbing to sensitive viewers.”
Jessica glanced down quickly, but Candice was lying with her head facing into her mother’s midsection, her hands folded over the mp3 player as she held it against her chest. Her eyes were closed, but they flickered briefly when Jessica reached down and stroked a stray strand of hair off her daughter’s face. She looked back to the television.
Apocalypse Atlanta Page 12
