Though each member of their group had been inoculated with the vaccine Sanjay had stolen, no one was ready to move the dead to free up space. What they needed was someplace empty.
It was Jabala, Kusum’s sister, who’d come up with the best idea. “Most schools are on winter break. And if we can find a boarding school, that would be perfect, wouldn’t it?”
So for the last two days, they had concentrated on schools. Most of the ones they found were for local children and didn’t have any extra housing. While they could’ve sufficed, Sanjay and the others weren’t ready to give up on the idea of finding actual beds.
They had come across the first boarding school the previous afternoon, and a second one that morning. The first had been taken over by another group after the virus had been released, but the flu had not passed them by, and while only a few were already dead, the rest were well on their way.
The school from that morning had been empty, but the condition of the buildings and the furniture inside indicated it hadn’t been used in years. They had decided if they could find nothing else in the next day or two, they would come back.
They had found the bordering school where they were now — the fourth one — because of a sign they’d seen along the highway. It was built out in the countryside, with a private, gated road. There were several buildings, probably containing classrooms, a dining hall, and perhaps even a gymnasium. There was a single English-style house near the center that was probably home to the headmaster. The dormitories were located along the back. Since that was most likely where anyone who might still be around would be located, that’s where Sanjay and Kusum, as the self-designated search party, headed first.
They heard the sound again. It sounded like a piece of furniture scraping across the floor, in short bursts.
“Careful,” Sanjay said as they drew near.
Kusum waved her hand in the air without looking back, telling him she wasn’t an idiot.
The sound was coming out a doorway ten feet ahead. The door itself was cut in half, the top portion open, while the bottom was closed.
The scraping stopped, replaced by a short, hoarse Ap, ap!
Someone was in there and still alive, Sanjay realized. The place wasn’t as deserted as he had hoped. Still, only one person was better than the dozens of dead bodies they’d run into elsewhere.
Kusum hugged the wall as she approached the doorway. When she reached the edge, she leaned forward just enough to spy inside.
Ap! Ap! Ap! Ap!
More scraping.
Kusum laugh as she stepped away from the wall, moving in front of the half door.
Ap! Ap! Ap! Ap!
“What is it?” Sanjay asked, quickly following her.
The space on the other side was a communal toilet area and shower room. Old green tiles covered almost every surface. In the middle of the room, directly beyond the doorway, was a wooden table sitting at an odd angle. The reason for this was obvious. Strapped to one of the legs was a leather leash that, in turn, was connected to a dog about the size of Sanjay’s forearm. At the sight of them, it jumped up and down.
Ap! Ap! Ap! Ap!
Its bark was odd, as if its vocal chords had been removed. Perhaps they had been, or, more likely, Sanjay thought, its voice was strained from barking for days on end.
Kusum opened the door.
“Wait,” Sanjay said. “It may bite.”
“I am sure it will,” she said. “Look how hungry it is.”
From the bag over her shoulder, she pulled out a stale roll and tossed it onto the ground in front of the dog. The animal instantly pounced on it, and began tearing at the crust.
Sanjay noticed a water bowl against the wall, where the table had probably once been. The bowl was empty, so he took it over to the sink and filled it, then scooted it in front of the dog with his foot.
The dog stopped eating right away and switched to the water.
“We need to finish looking around,” Sanjay said.
Kusum nodded, and said to the dog, “We will be right back.”
As they walked out of the room, the dog looked up and began barking again.
“I promise we will not be long,” Sanjay said.
Ap! Ap! Ap! Ap!
Kusum returned to the dog.
“What are you doing?” Sanjay asked.
“She’s afraid of being left alone again.”
“She?” Sanjay asked.
Kusum glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “Please tell me you know how to tell the difference.”
Ignoring her comment, he said. “She will be fine. We need to finish. The others are waiting.”
Instead of getting up, Kusum held her hand out to the dog, who sniffed it, then licked Kusum’s fingers.
“See?” Kusum said. “She’s friendly.”
She removed the leash from the leg of the table. With the dog in tow, she walked back to the doorway. “Let’s go, Mr. Impatient.”
They found three bodies at the school — an older couple, who they assumed was husband and wife, in the caretaker’s apartment in back of the kitchen; and a middle-aged Caucasian man in the headmaster’s house.
Since Sanjay could not help, Kusum and her father — after carefully wrapping themselves in protective clothing — carried the bodies out to a ditch others had dug in the jungle. They burned the bodies, and buried the remains deep enough so that no animal could drag a piece back into the compound.
Once this was done, they divided up the rooms in the main dormitory. That evening, after most of the children were asleep, Sanjay, Kusum, her parents, and the four other adults who had joined Kusum’s family on their exodus from Mumbai gathered in the living room of the headmaster’s house. The dog, which Kusum had started calling Jeeval, had staked a claim to Kusum’s lap.
“There’s enough food in the cafeteria to last us a week, maybe two. That is, if you only want to eat rice the second week,” Kusum’s mother said.
“What about the chickens?” Kusum’s father suggested.
“The chickens are weak and skinny. We need to nurse them back. And we will need most of them for eggs.”
“Tomorrow we should send out search parties and gather what we can,” Sanjay said.
“We should also put together a list of non-food items we need,” Kusum suggested. “Medicine and soap and clothes, for instance.”
“Excellent idea,” Sanjay said.
Kusum found a pad of paper and a pen, and they began brainstorming other things they could use.
After a while, Naresh, one of other adults, said, “A radio would be good.”
The woman named Ritu pointed across the room, at a stereo on the shelf next to the television. “There’s one right there.”
“Not that kind of radio,” Naresh said. “One for talking.” He looked at Sanjay. “Some people have shortwave radio and can talk to others all over the world. There has to be more survivors. We cannot be the only ones. Maybe they also have radios, and we can connect with them.”
“Couldn’t we just try using a cell phone?” another woman, Bhakti, asked.
“And call what number?” the man said. “We need to find a shortwave.”
Sanjay nodded. This was also an excellent idea. He hadn’t even realized that such radios existed, but why wouldn’t they? “How do we find one?” he asked.
“They will have a big antennae. Here.” Naresh motioned for Kusum to lend him the pad of paper and pen. He quickly sketched something on a clean sheet, then turned it so Sanjay could see. “Like this.”
The drawing was no masterpiece, but it got the point across — a crude house, several trees, and a tall pole-like structure towering above them.