Dangerous world, p.6
Dangerous World, page 6
“Might as well do this while I’m here,” she muttered to herself, stuffing the clothes into the bags and lifting both to her shoulders.
When she reached the canteen, however, she instantly regretted not taking the backpacks to Liam and Arlo before going to get breakfast.
Instantly, eyes were on her. “You off somewhere, Doc?” the woman serving up oatmeal asked her.
“Just collecting some clothes for Liam and Arlo. Their winter stuff wasn’t really doing the trick.”
“Really?” The woman folded her arms in front of her chest, slopping oatmeal into a bowl.
“Could I also take two more protein bars? Liam’s eating in his room today, so Arlo and I are staying with him. And two coffees?”
The woman put down her big spoon and narrowed her eyes. “This ain’t one of your fancy coffee bars.”
Laurel adjusted one of the bags on her shoulder. She wished she’d tied her hair back up; it had gotten caught beneath one of the straps and was tugging uncomfortably. “I’m aware of that,” she said politely.
Fishing out two protein bars and gesturing for her fellow volunteer to deal with the coffee, the woman breathed in deeply through her nostrils. It made them flare out to the sides. An awkward silence followed as Laurel tucked the protein bars into her pockets and tried to juggle the bowl of oatmeal with the coffees.
She was about to walk away when the woman said, “We all know what you’re planning.”
Laurel turned back around. “I’m sorry?”
“Just don’t expect to take any of our supplies with you when you go. You’re a guest here. You want to leave, you’ll have to fend for yourself.”
Biting back her desire to snappily respond, Laurel simply turned around and stalked back out of the canteen.
When she returned to Arlo, instantly he could tell she was rattled. “What’s happened? Is it worse? Did the wife…?” He trailed off.
Laurel shook her head. “No. It’s not that. People have gotten wind that we’re thinking of leaving. They’re not happy about us taking hospital supplies.” She dumped the backpacks on the floor and pulled out the clothes until she reached Arlo’s new boots.
Pulling them on, he gave a sharp ironic laugh. “Who cares what they think?” He looked at his feet and sighed. “These have seen better days. Was this all they had?”
“I got Liam some too.” Laurel handed Liam his pile of goodies. “Plus warmer clothes for all of us and…” She pulled the protein bars from her pocket and handed one to Liam. “Breakfast, as promised.”
For a few minutes, they ate in silence, refueling after a restless and talkative night. Then Arlo stood up. “If I’m going, I better go now.” He started rifling through his new items of clothing, selected a hat, scarf and gloves, then put them on along with his jacket.
“Be careful, Dad.” Liam was sitting on the edge of his bed, still eating his oatmeal. He put it down and stood up to give his father a hug.
“Liam, I’ll walk your father to the tunnel and then go get an update from the ER. Stay here, okay?”
“Do as Doctor Rivera says while I’m gone.” Arlo added sternly.
Liam nodded at them both.
“Okay, then. Let’s go.”
As they walked toward the tunnel, and the ER, Arlo glanced at Laurel. “There’s only one thing missing, you know.”
She looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“Weapons. They took ours when we arrived. Any idea how we’re going to get them back?”
“Actually....” Laurel reached into the back of her jeans. “I already got one of them.”
As Arlo raised his eyebrows at her, Laurel handed him the gun she’d been keeping in her pants for the past week.
“How did you…?”
“Saw an opportunity and took it. Linda was flirting with the guy who guards the guns. He’d left his key on the desk. I could only get this one without someone noticing, but—”
“Better than nothing.” Arlo checked it over, then put it into his belt.
“Good luck out there,” Laurel said as they reached the tunnel. “If you find supplies but can’t carry them on your own, try to hide them somehow and I’ll go back with you later.”
“I’ll carry them,” Arlo replied defiantly, in a tone that made Laurel almost expect him to flex his muscles.
“Of course you will.” She laughed at him and turned around. When she looked back, he’d entered the tunnel and closed the door behind him.
Outside the ER, Laurel paused. The doors were closed. Reaching into her pocket, she found the blue surgical mask she’d been carrying and slipped it over her face, then pushed the door open.
She knew she’d get in trouble, but at this point she was past caring; she needed to know what was going on and had resolved that if Hopkins hadn’t properly examined Katerina then she’d just do it herself; they’d have to shoot her to stop her.
But the second she stepped inside, she knew something had changed. The room was eerily quiet. Dimly lit. No fire. And the beds were empty. She whirled around, looking for the patients who had been here yesterday.
“They moved them.” A voice in the darkness made her jump. It was the blue-haired girl.
“Where to?” Laurel asked. The girl was sitting down, head in her hands. She glanced up at Laurel.
“A ward upstairs. Said they needed to keep them away from everyone else.”
A shiver ran down Laurel’s spine.
“Something about an infection. A really contagious one.”
Laurel stepped forward. “What are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be with them?”
“Came to find my necklace,” the girl said, her voice suddenly less brazen. “My mom gave it to me. I lost it. Figured it must be here.”
When she looked up, she was squinting.
“Have you got a headache?” Laurel asked tentatively.
“Worst I’ve had in my life. Had to sit down.” The girl moved her hands to her head and closed her eyes.
“Look.” Laurel bent down, spotting a small silver pendant under the chair where the girl had been sitting near the fire. “Is this your necklace?”
A smile broke across the girl’s face. “Yeah,” she said, grinning. “That’s it.”
“Then put it on and let me take you back to the ward.” Laurel grabbed a wheelchair from the corner of the room and motioned for the girl to sit in it. For a moment, she looked like she was going to object, but then she gave up and sat down heavily in the seat.
“Where is this ward?” Laurel asked as they exited the ER.
“Upstairs. Level three. You won’t get the chair up there.”
“Then I’ll help you walk the stairs,” Laurel replied, adding, “By the way, what’s your name?”
“Cristobel,” the girl said quietly. “But my friends call me Chrissy.” She was squinting again. She raised her hand to her eyes. “Dang it, it’s bright out here.”
Laurel swallowed hard. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.
Upstairs, on the third floor, she found the ward that Dr. Hopkins had converted into a quarantine bay.
The patients from the ER were lined up in beds, Katerina at the far end. Jen and Marcell were beside her.
“Dr. Rivera?” From the corner of the room, Dr. Hopkins spotted her and marched over.
“Chrissy was down in the ER. She has a headache and she’s sensitive to the light.” Laurel passed Chrissy over to Jen, who’d appeared from nearby, and put her hands on her hips as she waited for Dr. Hopkins to respond.
Scanning her face, at first he looked confused. His eyes narrowed. He pursed his lips as if he was considering whether to yell or not. Then, instead of demanding to know who let Laurel out of her guarded room, he scraped his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Laurel, you were right. I’m sorry. I should have seen it sooner.”
Laurel inhaled a deep breath. Thank God. “Don’t apologize. What matters is what’s happening now. Do you need my help?”
Dr. Hopkins shook his head. “Honestly? I don’t know what you can do. We’re treating them, but it’s already spreading.”
“The cold doesn’t help,” Laurel muttered. “It spreads far more easily in the cold.” After a pause, she added, “Katerina? How is she?”
“Deteriorating, I’m afraid. Quite rapidly. After her husband died, I’m afraid she lost the will to fight. She seems to be….”
“Giving in to it?” Laurel pinched the bridge of her nose. She wanted to remove her mask but knew she shouldn’t. Dr. Hopkins was wearing a mask, gloves, and scrubs. The other staff in the room were too.
“There’s really nothing you can do here, Laurel. I’m not saying that because I don’t want your help—I admit I should have accepted it earlier—but we need to limit exposure as much as possible.”
Nodding, Laurel began to back out of the room.
“I’ll let you know if we need you.”
At the back of the ward, Katerina had started seizing. Marcell and Linda called for Dr. Hopkins. He ran to them. Laurel watched as the doors swung closed.
For several minutes, she paced up and down the hall outside, unable to leave but unable to do anything to help.
Finally, the doors opened, and Linda stepped out.
“Laurel… you should go.”
“I just wanted to see how Katerina is—”
“No, I mean, you should go.” Linda met Laurel’s eyes. “Go now. Get back to your people.”
Laurel blinked hard. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Slowly, Linda nodded. “Yes. She is.”
“I can’t leave. If this gets worse—”
“If it gets worse, there will be nothing you can do.” Linda moved to put her hand on Laurel’s arm, then stopped herself.
“I—”
“I’ll prepare Liam’s meds and give you a fresh supply of chemo meds too. For his friend. Peter?”
“Yes, Peter,” Laurel said quietly.
“What else do you need?”
Laurel’s mind was racing. Despite having spent all night planning what they’d need with Arlo, she was suddenly too stunned to speak.
“Food?”
She cleared her throat. “Food, a first-aid kit, Arlo’s out looking for sleeping bags and tents. We have clothes.”
“Okay. Food. A first-aid kit. And a gun? Do you need a gun?”
Guilt tugged at Laurel’s stomach. “Yes,” she said, barely hesitating. “A gun. Thank you, Linda.” She shook her head. “Other people aren’t going to be happy if you help us.”
“Since when have I cared what other people think?” Linda smiled. “I’ll bring the stuff to you tonight. You can leave first thing tomorrow.”
“All right. Thank you.”
First thing tomorrow. Laurel braced her hands on her lower back. She just prayed Arlo had found what they needed.
8
LAUREL
“Ready?” Arlo was standing by the door of Liam’s room, suited and booted for the snow, backpack and pop-up tent strapped to his back. Gun at his side.
When he returned yesterday, laden with supplies, they’d spent the rest of the evening going over their route back to South Minneha and waiting for Linda to bring the items she’d promised. True to her word, when it was late and pitch dark outside, she’d knocked and left a bag containing a gun and Peter’s meds. Exactly what Laurel had asked for. But there were also some meds she hadn’t asked for; antibiotics, steroids, the arthritis medication for Leonora and Frank, and some labeled “for your mom, until you can get her back here.”
Closing her eyes, Laurel had held the note to her chest and felt her heart beating faster than normal. Would it be safe? Bringing her mom back here? What if it wasn’t?
Quickly, she’d stopped that train of thought; she couldn’t go there. Not now.
Arlo, for his part, had managed to secure them a tent, some thermal sleeping bags, and some large packs. But no food.
“I’m really not sure about asking Leonora and Frank for food,” Laurel said, shoving her hands into her pockets.
“We’re taking them the meds they need. I’m sure they won’t mind.”
“I know, but….” Laurel was thinking that she didn’t want to risk exposing them, even though she was pretty sure the three of them were okay. But she didn’t say it. She didn’t want Arlo to freak out and change his mind about leaving; odds were they were okay and better off on the road than staying here.
“I don’t think we’ll need to.” Liam’s voice surprised her. He’d been quiet all morning.
“Liam?” Arlo tilted his head at his son.
Setting down his pack, Liam opened it up. Laurel and Arlo peered in.
“Where did you get this?” Laurel dipped her hand in and picked up a protein bar.
Guiltily, Liam scraped his shoe on the floor. “From the canteen. I was careful. Everyone was asleep.”
While Arlo clapped Liam on the back and said, “Well done, son. Good work,” Laurel scraped her fingers through her hair.
This didn’t feel good; stealing from the people who’d helped them didn’t feel good.
“They have plenty left. Heaps.” Liam looked at her reassuringly. “I wouldn’t have taken them otherwise.”
“See? He wouldn’t have taken them otherwise.” Arlo nodded once again. “These should keep us going for a while. Now, come on. Before we change our minds.”
Biting back the desire to pull the food out of Liam’s bag and demand he leave it behind, Laurel closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
All the way to the tunnel, she expected someone to stop them. Dr. Hopkins. Jen. The angry cook from the canteen. But no one did.
The steel door closed heavily behind them and Laurel focused on the dim light at the other end. It was colder in the tunnel. It would be colder outside.
“It was really okay, yesterday?” Laurel asked, looking at Arlo.
“Not easy, but I made it there and back, didn’t I?” he answered, shrugging.
Laurel took a deep breath and nodded. Snow was an anomaly to her. Growing up in Texas and spending a huge portion of her adult life in the Middle East, she was used to being hot, not cold. And she’d yet to live through a winter in Minnesota.
At the end of the tunnel, breathing in the fresh, crisp air from outside, she turned her face toward the brightening sky. It’s going to be okay. Soon, you’ll be back home.
As the thought crossed her mind, it occurred to her that she now thought of South Minneha as her home. Before all this happened, it had been somewhere she tolerated because her mother needed to be there, but now it was the only place she could think of to be.
Perhaps because Bear and Mae were both so far away. Perhaps because she knew she had no way of finding or reaching them, and it hurt her heart too much to even contemplate it. Perhaps because her mother was there.
Whatever the reason, leaving Lone Oak, a weight lifted from her shoulders.
She was keeping her promise. Soon, she’d be back where she belonged. Peter would have the meds he needed. And everything would be okay.
An hour later, Laurel’s initial optimism was starting to waver, as was Arlo’s. From the hospital, they had made it across the road to drop off Leonora and Frank’s medication. Leonora had answered, although Laurel had called for her not to open up.
“There’s been an outbreak of meningitis at the hospital, Leonora. I’ve brought your medication, but I’ll leave it here on the doorstep. We’re not staying. We need to get Liam somewhere safer. But a friend of mine said she’d come and tell you when it’s safe again.”
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Leonora had muttered through the door.
“How’s Frank doing?” Laurel had leaned closer while Arlo tapped his foot impatiently, jogging up and down against the cold.
“The remedies you gave us have been helping, but the medication will be a relief.” Leonora sounded like she was smiling. “Thank you, dear.”
Along with a note reminding them not to visit the hospital any time soon, Laurel had left Frank’s meds on the doorstep and the three of them had made good time traveling down the main street.
Here, in the center of town, the snow had been trodden down by people venturing out of their homes. But as they neared the outskirts, and the buildings became fewer, the snow became deeper.
Liam, having shorter legs than both Arlo and Laurel, was struggling. And Laurel was exhausted already, her legs burning with the effort of plowing through the snow.
“Here, I’ll carry you.” Arlo stooped down and picked up his son.
Laurel almost winced on his behalf; he was already carrying a tent and a backpack, but with Liam’s pack as well as her own, she couldn’t help.
They managed only a few more minutes before Arlo had to stop and ask Liam to walk again.
As the day passed, and they drew farther away from the center of Lone Oak, this pattern continued. And Arlo became more and more frustrated. The ease with which he’d made it to the outdoor store yesterday had given him a false sense of how quick their journey would be. In reality, it was quite the opposite; slow, painstaking, and frustrating. While the main streets had been used by others who’d made the landscape easier to cross, as they edged toward the outskirts of Lone Oak, the snow became thicker and their speed slowed to a slow trudge.
“My pants are soaked.” Arlo looked down at his pant legs, wet from having to forge a path through the snow. He was wearing long ski socks underneath, but it wouldn’t be long before his legs were freezing cold.
“Maybe we should try to find something to help us clear the snow as we walk?” Laurel asked, looking around as if she expected to see a shovel handy.
“Like dig a path?” Liam asked, tilting his head.
“That’s ridiculous!” As Arlo turned to look at Laurel, his foot crashed through an extra-large snow drift. “We can’t go on like this!” he growled. “It’ll take us all year to make it back at this rate.”
With wide eyes, clearly feeling very guilty at having to be carried, Liam murmured, “Maybe we should go back? If we turn around—”
