THAT WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING of people getting sick. Madison had been convinced for at least a week that the people getting sick at the fall dance were the results of a bad batch of cupcakes, food poisoning, or something having to do with the dance. As the sickness spread through the city, she finally relented and let the explanation of an early flu season take the blame for ruining her dance.
No one thought anything of it. It was October in New York. People get the flu; they take medicine, and they get over it. It was not a big deal. It was not rocket science: in a city of millions, germs spread easily and so did the flu season.
I guess it was hard to pinpoint the moment that the virus hit us, because we were so unaware of it. It started out just like your normal flu: fever, chills, vomiting. When it lasted more than a couple of days, people started going to doctors.
That’s when it got worse. That’s when we knew it was different.
It started affecting more people. Everyone went nuts, trying to get their hands on a flu vaccine, but they were running out, and it was becoming clear that it wasn’t just the flu. The flu didn’t turn your skin so pale that it was nearly blue or cause bright red sores that bled incessantly when they burst. The flu didn’t kill people, not like this, not this quickly.
Two kids died at St. Joseph’s within a few weeks of the virus, including one of the sick girls from the dance. Trent followed a week later. This was only the beginning.
“Zoey, I’ve been thinking…”
I paused in the middle of pouring milk into my cereal bowl. “Well, I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Just hear me out,” my dad said, laying down his newspaper. I avoided looking at the headlines; they were just too depressing to look at. After seeing Trent’s obituary in the paper, it held no appeal to me. “People are getting sick all over the place, champ, and no one has really figured out what it is.”
“Dad…” I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was heading and I was also sure that I didn’t like its direction.
“And it’s not just New York anymore. There are cases of the virus all over the place: Los Angeles, Chicago, Philadelphia, Denver, Seattle, everywhere.”
I sat at the table, taking a bite of my cereal. “Dad, we’ve discussed this. I’m not dropping out of school. I’m not sitting at home, by myself, all the time.”
“It would just be a break,” he insisted. His hazel eyes met my own very different deep brown eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
“I’m already getting gun lessons,” I grumbled. “I’ve already learned every type of self-defense there is.” He gave me a look, one that clearly said I was acting like a brat. “I am safe. It’s not like it’s the black plague, Dad. People aren’t walking down the street with a wheelbarrow and piling bodies into it. We don’t have ring around the rosie or anything. I’m fine.”
He sighed, exasperated, and I knew that I was pushing my luck. He was genuinely worried about me and if the virus didn’t get under control soon, I’d be spending my days on the couch watching early afternoon talk shows. “Zoey Elizabeth, one of your friends has already died. I’m just trying to protect you.”
“You’re always trying to protect me. Hence the gun lessons,” I pointed out, thinking about the pamphlet about some boot camp he had slipped under my door a few weeks ago. It seemed to be the only class on this island that I hadn’t taken.
“Well, it’s my job.”
I gave him an ill-amused look and a small smile appeared on his lips. “It’s your job to protect everyone, Dad.”
“You’re the most important, champ,” he answered, then taking a sip of his coffee. He folded the newspaper back into place, with perfect creases, the way he always did before leaving for work.
“I’m not going to get sick,” I said, firmly.
He stood up and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. “If it gets worse, you’re staying home.” He came over and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you after work.”
I waited until I heard him pull away before getting up. I washed my dishes, leaving them in the drying rack, and grabbed my coat from the front closet. I made sure the dog door was open and gave Bandit a kiss on the head before leaving.
Madison was waiting on the front stoop for me when I opened the front door. She was talking to Ash, using her hands to animate the story. I sighed, turning to lock the front door before turning back to them. “Madison!”
She looked up, a big smile on her small face. Everything about her was small. I wasn’t exactly tall at 5’4”, but I towered over her. “Hey, Zoey. You ready?”
I nodded, shifting my backpack so it lay comfortably between my shoulder blades. I walked down the steps, avoiding any eye contact with Ash. He had booby trapped my locker with glitter two days earlier, and I had walked around in my St. Joseph’s uniform the rest of the day looking like a fabulous Catholic school girl out of some weird anime movie. To say I was still a bit angry would have been a vast understatement.