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The car revved its engine and then drove away.

Katherine jumped to her feet and opened the gate. She didn’t see anyone. She sprinted to the middle of the road, but couldn’t see the car anymore. As she was about to run up to the house where she’d been hiding, she stopped. What exactly could they do for her? The phones had been cut off, and no police were available. Who would come and help her?

But at least she would be away from him. She walked up to the porch and knocked on the door. She got no answer at first, and so she rang the doorbell and then knocked again. A light went on inside the house, and then another. A middle-aged man in a black robe opened the door. Behind him, peeking out over his shoulder, was a beautiful blonde with large, fake breasts.

“Please,” Katherine said, “I’m in tr-”

The blood spattered on her face. She felt numb as the man’s corpse collapsed backward into his wife, who hadn’t even realized what had happened yet. Blood and gore was all over her nightgown and her chest, and as the body fell, she caught it and brought it down. When she saw the gaping hole in his head, she screamed.

“No!”

Katherine quietly took in the scene. It didn’t seem real to her, as if it were happening to someone else far away and she were only watching, like a waking dream. She turned, and Ian was in the street.

Katherine’s mind was reeling. In one moment of absolute, pure rage, she felt out of control. She ran out into the street and shouted, “You want to kill me? Then fucking kill me!”

He lifted his weapon, and she thought she was going to die. But she didn’t care. Right then, she was helping a man who was little more than an animal and was worried that God would judge her for it. She thought it better to die. She lifted her arms and closed her eyes, waiting for the bullet to tear into her. But it never came.

She opened her eyes as Ian slammed the butt of the gun against her jaw, knocking her out cold.

36

Samantha put on latex gloves and a full biohazard suit. She combed the supply closet for sodium hypochlorite and found some tucked away on a shelf. She also found a syringe and vial for testing as well as some swabs and a small packet of alcohol.

She stripped down to her bra and panties and then slipped the blue suit over herself. The plastic faceplate was free of any smudges or fingerprints. It was brand-new.

Placing the boots on her feet, she realized they were too large. She tried cinching them with rubber bands. They were still loose, but would have to do.

She slipped the crinkly booties over her boots and then pulled on the suit’s thick black gloves and tucked her sleeves into them. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and going out into the corridor.

Duncan was standing outside the room. He seemed to want to say something but didn’t. Maybe because he knew she was going to do it no matter what, or maybe because he, too, thought it was the right thing.

“Where are the Rangers?” she asked.

“I called Clyde and had them reassigned. You’re clear for a few hours until they send some others.”

Sam was silent a moment. “Thanks,” she finally said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Find a coffee for me, will ya?” She didn’t want one, but she knew it might occupy his mind long enough for her to get the blood. Entering the room, she shut the door behind her, then tore off the tape on the floor that was holding down the canopy.

Slipping underneath, she came up next to her sister and placed her hand on her shoulder. Jane gave her a weak smile and placed her hand over the glove.

Sam swabbed her sister’s left bicep with a cotton swab and alcohol.

“Close your eyes,” she said.

“You still remember, huh?” Jane said.

Samantha thought back to a doctor’s office they had been in when she was twelve and Jane eight. The doctor needed to give her vaccinations, and Jane sprinted out of the room and ran into the parking lot. Their father had to chase her and bring her back. Holding her down, they finally got the injection in by telling her to close her eyes, and Jane passed out.

“What do you do when they have to give you an IV?” Sam asked.

“They’ve never had to. I avoid the damn things as much as possible.”

Sam withdrew a vial of the black-red blood, and it splashed up as it filled the tube. She capped and sealed it, then ducked under the canopy and went over to a sink. She washed both the bag and the vial of blood with water and then the sodium hypochlorite. She placed the vial in the bag and threw the syringe into a biohazard trash bin.

“I’ll be right back,” Sam said.

No showers were set up for decontamination, so Sam had to use the one in the room. When she finished washing the suit, she stepped out and went to the supply closet to get dressed.

The hematology department was on a different floor, and she carefully carried the plastic container in both hands as she went to the elevators. A custodian was on there with her, and he was humming to himself. It seemed so out of place for the moment that Sam couldn’t help but watch him. He smiled at her as he stepped off onto his floor.

Hematology was empty up front. Sam walked behind the front desk and toward the back. Sitting at a table with various vials, tubes, and microscopes set up in front of him was a man with orange hair and a goatee. He was writing on a notepad, and Sam walked in and placed the plastic bag down on the table.

“You need to test this,” she said. “For an unknown pathogen resembling smallpox.”

The man was confused for a second, and then his eyes widened. “Holy shit, you brought that here like that?”

“Test it now, please. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“There’s different kinds of smallpox virion, and most are morphologically indistinguishable from the others. I can’t tell you what I’d be looking at.”

“You have to do negative staining. Do you have an electron microscope here?”

“Well, yeah, but I would need some sort of scab or skin sample from an infected patient to do it.”

“You have two people infected upstairs. I’ll get you the skin sample. You just get everything ready.”

As she was walking out, the doctor said, “Hey, who the hell are you anyway?”

“I’m with the CDC… and I’m that patient’s sister.”

37

After speeding away in the jeep, Howie was going so fast that he nearly lost control and tipped over on a sharp turn. He slowed down and noticed the sky. No choppers. He glanced to his daughter in the passenger seat and saw that her hand was on his knee.

“You okay?” he said.

“Yeah. Mike looked after me.”

Howie glimpsed in the rearview. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem.”

After driving in silence for a few more minutes, Howie realized he was hungry. An Italian place called Cosimo’s was up near the intersection, and he pulled around back and parked in the handicap section.

“I don’t think they’ll mind,” he said, looking at his daughter.

“What’re we doing here?” Mike said.

“You guys hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Let’s go. I’ll whip something up.”

The restaurant was open. They walked in through the front door, and Jessica went to turn on the lights, but Howie told her not to. They would have to eat in the dark.

“See if you can find some candles, though,” he said.

Walking to the kitchen, Howie saw food still out on the tables. A dish of gelato had melted and was soaking the tablecloth. Everyone had gotten out of there in a hurry.

Mike came with him as Jessica lagged behind. The lights in the kitchen as well as the grill and oven were still on. He turned them off and went to the fridge on the other side of the room. Taking out some beef, pasta, and vegetables, he then found the olive oil and cooked macaroni with sauce.