He looked at me. “The three doctors at the morgue are dead.”
“Oh my god,” I said, horrified. “Why? Why would that even happen? Aren’t they there to fix the problem?”
He sighed. “Well, we’re going to try and find out.” He opened the front door, but paused before leaving. “Don’t wait up for me. And Zoey? Stay home from school today, okay?”
“Dad,” I started to protest.
He had a pained expression on his face. “Please, for me.”
I swallowed hard, and nodded. “Okay.”
“See if you can convince Madison to stay home as well. I’ll be home later.” Then he was gone.
I cleaned up the water in the kitchen before heading back upstairs. I typed out a quick message to Madison, urging her to stay home from school at the request of my dad. I hesitated for a moment, before sending another to Ash. I tossed my phone to the side before I could regret my momentary lapse of judgment and crawled back into bed, no longer feeling warm.
I woke later, feeling even more exhausted than I had felt earlier. I yawned widely and reached for the remote sitting on top of a crumbled bag of Doritos on my nightstand. Hoping to see something about the murders at the morgue, I flipped on the TV and found a channel showing the local news.
Instead I found what seemed to be the beginning of a press conference. The headline at the bottom of the screen read “Head of CDC to Address Concerns about Virus,” and an empty podium, presumably waiting for the head of the CDC, was the focus of attention. I turned up the volume, eager to find out more about the virus that was sweeping through our country like a tornado.
The woman representing the CDC came on the screen and immediately there was a hushed tone, as she approached the podium. She shuffled a few papers and smiled at the crowd of reporters in front of her. Her name flashed quickly across the bottom of the screen: Razi Cylon.
“Good morning everyone,” she began, her clipped British accent obvious right off the bat. There was also a little something else there, perhaps Indian. “My name is Razi Cylon and I’m a representative of the CDC. I have been very close to the work and study that we have been doing on this virus. As of right now, we know very little. The symptoms seem to be similar of what we know of the routine stomach flu: fever, chills, vomiting. However, the symptoms, as we have found out, tend to worsen and lead to the loss of blood, through vomiting or urination and the red sores that break out across the body. We are working hard to determine how the virus is transmitted. It is becoming more likely, as days pass, that it is not airborne. However, only with more time and more study will we begin to understand the nature of this.
We are working diligently to learn more about the virus in order to figure out a method of fighting it off or even curing it. We urge everyone to go about your normal business but with caution. Remember to wash your hands constantly. Do not share drinks. Keep yourself as healthy and active as possible. Go to the doctor or your local hospital the minute you start feeling the symptoms and together, we can progress forward toward a solution.”
She smiled at the cameras again, but the smile not quite reaching her eyes. She didn’t look much like a doctor, someone capable of spending days responsible for the Center of Disease Control. She was dressed impeccably in a smart business suit, and looked more like a lawyer than a doctor. I briefly remembered when my mother took me to Europe after my eighth grade graduation, and I sprained my ankle. The doctor in Leeds was dressed similarly, less like the normal picture I had for a doctor. There was something very poised and calculated about this woman though, and I was drawn to her eyes, that just didn’t match the tone of her voice or the smile on her full lips.
The reporters immediately launched into a flurry of questions, talking over one another. I had had enough and switched off the TV. No sooner had my room fallen into silence again when there was a loud pounding on the door. I jumped, startled, and then laughed at myself. This virus was making me paranoid and easily spooked.
I climbed out of bed and went bounding down the stairs. I stood on tiptoe to see through the peephole and sighed when my line of sight was just underneath. I opened the door and immediately saw Madison and Ash standing on my doorstep.
“Hi, Madison,” I said, flashing an impatient look at Ash.
“I come bearing snacks and Buffy,” Madison said, holding up a full grocery bag. She jerked her head toward Ash. “He invited himself.” She gave me a knowing look as she came in.