He begins to hear voices ahead on the path and all at once he arrives on the scene. Immediately he sees two paramedics standing by a stretcher that holds a body bag covering the remains of young Tim. Off to one side he sees Donald Lincoln with his wife Angela comforting their son Cody. Beside them a lone boy seems to be in shock. Danny makes a note to find out who he is later. But for now he spots Clark Starling coming towards him.
“Glad you’re here doc,” Clark starts “Maybe now we can remove the body.”
Instinctively Danny defends himself “I got here as soon as I could. Where is Sheriff Anjou?”
“You didn’t see him on your way in?” Clark answers, “He’s holding the line at the front of the place. Now, you want to do what you have to do so we can get on with this?”
Danny nods and walks slowly towards the paramedics. Each step seems to drain him—even more so after he glances at the grief-stricken faces of the Lincoln’s and the boy he now recognizes as Derek Rohm.
As he reaches the stretcher one of the paramedics unzips the bag and Danny peers inside. He recognizes Tim and from a cursory once over he can see nothing that could have caused him to die.
Which means the cause was most likely internal and won’t be found until an autopsy is performed. The doctor in him begins calculating the odds that Tim’s death could be mere coincidence and bad timing. He doesn’t like the odds.
Danny motions for the paramedic to zip up the bag. “Make sure that no one touches the body until the CDC gets here. They’re going to want to do their own examination.”
The paramedics nod and wheel Tim away out of the forest past his shocked friends. Donald leaves Cody with his mother and stalks up to Danny. “We need to talk.”
Danny lifts his eyebrows and waits for Donald to go on. “My son found him here Danny. He’s traumatized and I want some answers on what is going on here. Have you phoned the CDC yet?”
“Yes. They’re on their way.”
Donald grabs Danny’s sleeve and leads him a few steps further away from his family. “Danny, Cody attempted CPR on Tim. Is he…is he in any danger?”
Danny looks over Donald’s shoulder at the shocked teen in his mother’s grasp. “I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough Danny. Not nearly.”
Donald stomps off to rejoin his family leaving Danny to contemplate the odds of things getting worse before they get better.
He doesn’t like those odds either.
Part Two:
The Differential
Chapter 20
October 16
Omaha, Nebraska
I have a plan.
You have to have a plan. In life it doesn’t matter if you’re the hunter or the hunted—to survive you need to have a plan. I have that now.
The sound of metal clinking carries on the breeze to my ears. I watch the wires holding a twenty foot inflatable gorilla as they sway with the movements of the tacky animal. The only other occupant of the used car lot next to me and the obnoxiously slick salesman shadowing me, the gorilla displays a ridiculously large ‘SALE’ sign.
“So do we have a deal then?”
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Vladimir Tesla nervously glances around the empty lot. His focus rests for a moment on the road beyond the expanse of pavement.
The absence of traffic does little to calm him before his attention is drawn back to the crass salesman and his incessant pitch.
“What do you say my friend?” Patting the hood of the used car in front of them, “She’s a real beauty, am I right?”
Stepping away to gather his thoughts for a moment, Vladimir notices the salesman sticking to him like glue. Get it together and get on with it!
“It’s three grand for the Civic, then?”
“You betcha, and I know what you’re going to say. Don’t say it, because I know what you’re thinking. Old Dapper Dan here must have gone ape offering prices that low. But believe me, my loss is…your gain.”
Once again Vladimir turns away, his eyes casting furtive glances in every direction.
“Say, are you all right? You seem kind of, I don’t know…twitchy?”
Forcing his feet to cease shuffling and focus on Dan, Vladimir answers brusquely, “I’m fine, just in a hurry is all.”
“Well, that I can understand. If I were buying such a fine automobile, I’d be in a hurry to get on the open road myself.” Laughing, he slaps Vladimir on the back.
His penchant for grinning wildly reminds Vladimir of an idiot he knew once. “Can we hurry this up?”
“Certainly,” straightening his colorful tie Dan motions him towards the office “Let’s get the paperwork signed shall we?”
“Actually,” With effort Vladimir remains rooted to the spot “I was hoping I could make another deal with you.”
“Look my friend,” Dan begins “Dapper Dan is a deal maker for sure, but I can’t go any lower than I already have you know what I’m saying? I mean if I go home to my wife with anything less than three grand for that car, well I may as well not go home you know?”
“The price is fine; I had a different kind of deal in mind.” Obviously intrigued and still grinning broadly, Dan waits for Vladimir to elaborate. “I wish to avoid the paperwork if it is at all possible.
“You see I’m in the middle of a messy divorce,” Vladimir lies “And if my crazy ex-wife knew I was buying a car…well it would not go well for me.”
Rubbing at his chin, Dan replies “I’d like to help you my friend, I really would. Believe me when I tell you I know just how bloodsucking some women can be. My first wife really took me to the cleaners. It’s just…well I have rules to follow. You understand?”
“How about we make the bill for four thousand and you keep the extra grand for your troubles. Does that help bend those rules?”
Smiling even wider Dan answers “I think it does. How will you be paying for this again?”
“Visa.”
A half hour later across town Vladimir drives the Civic slowly down a side street heading to a stop sign.
Coming to the intersection he scans the street and seeing only a group of youths hanging out on the corner he pulls out into the sparse traffic.
Pulling the car over to the curb across from a convenience store he puts it in park. Leaving the car running he opens the door and dashes across the street into the store to put in motion the last phase of his plan.
Chapter 21
October 17
Stillness, Iowa
“Come!”
Opening the door to the office, Lynne Bosworth steps into a whirlwind of chaos. The man behind the desk—presumably Dr. Danny Gordon—holding a phone in one hand looks worn out.
His desk is buried beneath the clutter of files and empty coffee cups. While he finishes up his call, Lynne takes in the rest of the office.
On her left the wall is covered by pictures and charts—a visual progression of the outbreak. Each picture stares out from the wall silently pleading for help. Crimson strokes run through the ones that are beyond help.
The color is everywhere.
Slamming the phone down in its cradle, Danny Gordon curses loudly and turns his attention to her. “What?” he snaps.
Maintaining a cordial smile Lynne reaches her hand out to him introducing herself, “Dr. Lynne Bosworth, EIS officer from the CDC. I presume you’re Dr. Danny Gordon the County Health Department Director.”
Danny immediately softens his attitude. “Yes I am, please have a seat. I’m sorry for the greeting; I’m a little short with everyone these days I’m afraid.” Pointing towards the phone he adds, “The mayor is pressing me hard for results. I can’t even begin to tell you how glad I am to see you.”
Reaching into her bag Lynne removes a thin folder and passes it over to Danny. “My EPI1.”
Taking it Danny sets it aside, “We’ll get that straightened out later. Can I get you anything to drink or eat? How was your flight in?”
“It was fine.
I was able to get some sleep and review the file on the outbreak. Tell me, what’s the latest?”
Shuddering at the question, Danny solemnly shakes his head. After a few moments silence he begins, “It’s not good. 71 people are confirmed ill as of this morning. We’ve had 28 new infections since I called you and 11 more deaths. All eleven succumbed to respiratory failure brought on by pneumonia.
“We’ve set up a sick ward in the public school about six blocks from here with capacity of about fifty beds—which we’ve maxed out. Des Moines Hospital has set up an entire floor for this illness, but the last I heard they’re worried that it might not be enough.
“The way this thing is spreading…” Danny shivers, “People are getting scared.”
Lynne runs the numbers over in her head and they worry her. They paint a picture of a still growing epidemic.
“I’d like some time to go over the files and familiarize myself with the details. Is there some place quiet I could do that?”
“Of course,” Danny rises from his chair and leads Lynne out of his office. “I’ve set up a temporary office for you to work in down the hall.”
“That’ll be fine.”
“Anything else I can get you?”
“I’d like to convene a meeting in about an hour with your key personnel and bring my team in Atlanta into this. If you could arrange for a conference room with internet access, that’d be great.”
“I’ll take care of all the details.”
With that, Danny heads back to his office leaving Lynne to enter her own office and close the door. Leaning back against the door she gently raps her head against it. Feeling not only the weight of her responsibilities but the weight of the files she has to read through, she steels herself to get down to work with lives hanging in the balance.
They sit together in silence.
What was once boisterous activity has been reduced to nothing. Silence has gripped not only them but the town as well. Everywhere you go people look at you suspiciously. Are you sick? Are you going to be the next victim? Will you pass it on to me?
The paranoia reaches from the smallest child to the oldest man sparing none in between. And Cody Lincoln knows that when it comes to paranoia and a general distrusting attitude, Derek Rohm already had a head start. His father splitting on him and his mother saw to that.
Indiscernible rock music plays in the background of his room as they sit across from each other. They’ve said maybe three words to each other since Cody arrived. Cody—who against his father’s wishes—came over here to check on his friend, is worried now more than ever that Derek isn’t handling Tim’s death well at all.
“Derek.”
Derek holds up a hand to silence Cody before he can say another word. “Go home Cody.”
“No,” Cody stares at his friend saying, “Don’t shut me out man. Tim was my friend too. Talk to me.”
“About what!?” Derek snaps “What would you like to talk about Cody? Huh? Come on Cody let’s have it, what could you possibly have to say that could make any difference to me?”
Cody stoically waits for Derek to calm himself down. “I’m sorry Cody, but please just go home. I need to be alone right now.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Jesus!” Derek wipes his hands across his face in exasperation. “You’re a real pain in the ass you know that? How did you get over here anyway? I’m sure your father is freaking about all this.”
“He is but he’s busy with other things than where I am. Not that he wanted me to go but…he couldn’t stop me either. What about your mom, she must be worried too?”
“Who knows and who cares.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Derek stares at his friend for a few minutes until the effort to maintain his hard edge begins to wear and fall away “She’s freaked,” he admits.
“Well,” Cody begins “I have to ask. You’re not…you know, sick or anything?”
“No. You?”
“I’m fine. I don’t think we could’ve caught anything from Tim anyway,” Cody says dismissively.
“You wouldn’t lie to me right?”
“About what?”
“I don’t know,” Derek says, “Maybe about feeling great when you’re really not. Tim…Tim’s dead, maybe because he kept quiet too long about feeling like shit. I just want to make sure you won’t do the same.”
Remembering the headaches he’s been getting for the past few days Cody swallows and lies to his friend “I’m fine, really.”
He doesn’t want to lie to him, but the lie isn’t just about Derek. Deep down Cody believes that if he doesn’t tell anyone about feeling sick then maybe he won’t get sick. That if he doesn’t voice his fears then what he’s afraid is happening to him will not be true.
That maybe the lie he’s wishing for will become the truth he so desperately wants.
“I’m fine,” he whispers again.
Silence crowds back in on them then as they each sit and worry about each other and everything that’s happening that’s beyond their control.
Are you sick? Are you going to be the next victim?
Are you going to give it to me…?
Opening his eyes at the sound of approaching footsteps, Will Sullivan stares up at the water-stained ceiling. His head rests uncomfortably against the hard cement bench in his cell.
Time for another session with the sheriff.
Rolling onto his side he faces the wall waiting for the barrage of questions to be repeated.
“Clark said that you wouldn’t talk to me, but I thought I’d try anyway.”
Hearing the unexpected and vaguely familiar voice Will turns slowly to look at his visitor. Despite the red hair dye and numerous piercings, Will recognizes the wavy hair and thoughtful eyes of an old friend.
“So,” Scott asks, “Was he right?”
Sitting up on the bench Will clears his throat saying, “Hello Scotty.”
Grabbing an iron bar in each hand Scott rests his forehead against the cell. “What do you know Sully, you do remember my name. I guess Guy owes me twenty bucks.”
They stare at each other until Will looks down and away without offering a reply.
“So how are doing Sully?” Scott smiles sheepishly adding with a look around the surroundings “Sorry, stupid question.”
Swishing his hands through his unkempt hair, Will looks back at Scott asking barely above a whisper “How are you?”
“I’m holding my own, you know. In a band these days, we suck shit but the fans seem to like it. Jaime and I are together too—so life’s pretty good.
“You sure picked a fine time to breeze back into town. I guess timing isn’t really your thing huh?”
“I guess not.”
Scott turns away from the cage and paces lightly back and forth in a tight circle. “I thought I needed to see you Sully,” he begins unburdening himself, “I mean we were best friends until…
“Well, until you split and I never heard from you again. Don’t get me wrong, I know it couldn’t have been easy for you. And for a long time I didn’t blame you for running away from all the memories this place must hold for you. For a long time…” His gaze is riveted to the wreck of a man sitting behind the bars. Very little of what he sees is recognizable as the child he once knew.
“But after so long, I started to blame you. So I’m here because it may be my only chance to ask you this. Did Guy mean nothing to you? Did Jaime mean nothing to you?
“Did I mean nothing to you?”
“It wasn’t like that Scotty.”
“What was it like then? Why didn’t you call? Guy told me the other day that friends turn to each other for comfort in times of trouble. Why didn’t you turn to any of us?”
Biting his bottom lip Will looks up at Scott with silence crashing in around them. “I just needed to go. I’m sorry if I hurt you guys. I really am. But after…my parents…there’s just things that you couldn’t possibly understand.”
&n
bsp; “You mean like digging up your parents’ grave? I don’t, by the way, understand that.”
“Why did you come here Scotty?”
Shaking his head, Scott answers “Maybe I just missed an old friend and hoped you’d tell me that you didn’t really come back after all this time just to dig up a grave.”
Watching him walk away, Will opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out—his words turning to ash before they can be spoken.
Chapter 22
Gooseflesh pimples Mary Osborne’s skin, standing the hairs on her arms on end.
The café is silent this morning—an occurrence that is most strange. Normally it would be abuzz with the latest gossip but this day there is only one thing on everyone’s mind.
And fear of it keeps people from voicing it.
Mary picks up the coffeepot and makes her rounds of the tables. There’s only five tables occupied—no surprise that business is down.
Sitting at a table in the corner by the windows Mary sees Jacob Castle nursing a plate of eggs benedict and a cold coffee. The lines on his forehead speak of the pressure that he’s under. Poor guy. Mary can’t help it, she feels sorry for him. As if he wasn’t enough of a leper in this town already, now people think that he failed to report the growing epidemic.
She’s heard from a few customers that people are blaming him for the recent surge in sicknesses and deaths. As if by not knowing about the outbreak sooner, he’s somehow responsible for its progression.
Idiots!
“Jake, can I give you a warm-up?”
Jacob puts his hand over his cup and mouths “No thanks.”
“You look tired Jake.” No reply so Mary moves a little closer and says, “Don’t let a few assholes get you down. None of this is your fault and you know that.”
“Thanks Mary but that’s not what’s got me so down. In this town I’m used to being hated.”
Stillness Page 12
