“No help is coming. No outsiders are allowed on our property,” Dunbar said.
“You don’t let them in, then your people—every man, woman, and child, will become sick. A third or more will die, slow, painful, horrible deaths.”
The mayor didn’t blink. “I’ll send some of the women down to the infirmary.” Mrs. Haskel started forward, ready to round up the women to help.
“No.” Greer stopped her. He looked at Dunbar. “Help is already on the way. What’s happening here can spread beyond the borders of your community fast. The government has no choice but to send doctors, medicine, and soldiers to set up a perimeter. Don’t make this worse than it already is. If we can get your people back into their cabins, isolated from those who are sick, there’s a chance they will live.”
Mr. Dunbar stood like a statue. Maybe he was in shock.
Mrs. Haskel grasped the situation far more clearly. “We’ll use the bell to summon them. It will be heard all the way down to the fields, where there is another one to send the call out farther.”
“Ring it,” Greer ordered when the mayor said nothing.
Mrs. Haskel looked at the mayor and her husband, waiting for their confirmation. When they remained silent, Greer repeated his order. “Do it now, Mrs. Haskel.”
*
Greer went over to the cabin he shared with Remi. She was standing at the front window, watching the village anxiously. He put his hand up to the glass. She held hers to the other side of the glass. Her hand was small enough to fit entirely inside the windowpane.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“All hell’s breaking loose.” He was close enough to the window that he didn’t have to shout. “The CDC’s flying in some doctors for an initial assessment. They should be here any minute. The Army’s sending soldiers to establish a perimeter. If it is smallpox, I don’t know what will happen.”
“I don’t want these people to die.”
“Nor do I. The farmers are being recalled to their cabins.” He looked around, making sure no one was in earshot. “I think the mayor, and/or the council, may have had something to do with this. The men, anyway. They didn’t look surprised by this.”
She frowned at him through the glass. “You’ve been exposed to whatever it is.”
“If it’s smallpox, I’ve had a recent vaccination for it. The whole team has. But anyone not vaccinated, or whose vaccination is older than a decade, is at risk.”
“What’s going to happen?”
Greer lifted his shoulders. “Don’t know for sure. The CDC may decide to quarantine the community. Or they may evacuate everyone.”
“But there’s no running water, no electricity…they’ll have to move them.”
“They can bring in generators and water trucks. Field hospitals can be set up anywhere.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. I’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.” He started to turn away, but she banged on the window. She held up both hands this time. He covered hers with his.
“I love you, Greer.”
I love you. She’d said the very thing he’d been feeling. But was it real? Or was it simply a reaction to the stress they were under? “Remi, this is all going to be over soon.”
“I know that. That’s not why I said—oh, forget it.”
“Did you mean it?” His fingertips pressed into the glass until his nails were white.
“Yes.”
“Good. ’Cause I had no intention of letting the woman I love slip out of my life when things return to normal.”
She slowly smiled. “You love me, too?”
“Fuck yes.” He heard the first helicopter approaching. “Gotta go. I’ll be back. Stay put.”
Max was having the doctors land in the field nearest the hospital. Two men disembarked. Greer waved them over toward the infirmary. They both paused long enough to pull on masks, gloves, and surgical covers over their clothes. One of them went inside. The other knelt beside Lion.
He pulled the edges of Sparrow’s blanket apart. Seemed the boy had even more sores than before. Greer watched as the doctor checked his pulse, then drew his hand down over the boy’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, son.” He looked at Lion. “Are you his brother?” the doctor asked in a calm voice.
Lion squeezed his eyes shut, then looked away. “Yes.”
“He’s no longer feeling pain. He’s dead, son. Where are your parents?”
“I am—I was—his guardian.” Lion covered Sparrow up, as if the kid still needed the warmth. A tear spilled down his cheek.
“Do you know if anyone from your family has been over here to the clinic?”
Greer braced himself for whatever Lion would say. The doctor understood nothing of Lion’s world or his pride or the Friendship Community.
“No one has been here. When Sparrow became so sick, I had the rest of the pride sleep outside.”
Greer silently sighed as the doctor sent him a questioning look. “There are unique living arrangements in this community. Leave it at that. For now, it’s enough to know that no others from Lion’s family have come over here.”
“I did go into the clinic,” Lion told them.
“Then you’ll need a vaccination.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a shot. In the arm,” the doctor said.
“I had one of those.”
“When?” Greer asked.
Lion eased himself from under Sparrow and stood. He pulled his sleeve up and showed the doctor his arm. “Is it this shot?” There was a mark on his arm of a recently healed sore.
“That’s it.”
“When did you have that?” Greer asked.
“Six weeks or so. Before Sparrow came to live with us.”
Greer and the doctor looked at each other. Someone had known about the outbreak…and they’d been preparing for it.
The other doctor came back out from the clinic and confirmed Greer’s worst fears. It was smallpox. They stepped a short distance away and called in their assessment.
Greer set a hand on Lion’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about your cub.”