After the incident, Stephen decides it is best to go back to the Al-Ma. I'm thankful, because I'm sore and tired. I have open wounds on my leg and neck. They aren't deep, but they burn when I walk or move my head. I'm also pretty sure there is a bruise the size of Texas on my forehead. Isaac is untouched, if not a little shaken.
Stephen doesn't ask any questions, but he looks me up and down carefully before leaving. It makes me wonder just how common this is around here.
The walk that took us thirty minutes before takes twice as long the second time. Most of it is my fault, because I'm limping. Some of it is Justin and Clare, though, now loaded down with food and medicine. Apparently, while I was being mauled, they finished raiding the house, roach infested bathroom and all.
Ollie opens the door for us, counting heads as we walk in. I wonder how common it is to lose someone on a supply mission. Inside, the sleeping bags are full, and there's a light snoring in the air. Belle and Mandy are sitting on the couch, both of them asleep.
"You all made it back," Ollie whispers, pulling the door shut as quietly as she can. "Get some sleep," she says, patting me gently on the arm, "You did well. Everyone came home; that's all I'm asking of you. Just to help me protect my people."
She has no clue that I would probably still be in one piece if I had done my job right. She will probably never know what demons Isaac and I conquered in that basement.
Ollie leaves, following Stephen to the sleeping area. I watch the older man walk to a tiny sleeping bag where black hair sticks up. He kneels, kissing the boy on the head before pulling his own sleeping bag up and over him.
"Let's go," Isaac says, grabbing my elbow and pulling me away. He's spread our sleeping bags in the only empty spot he could find by what looks like a shelf where they might have kept fruit. We are squeezed up against the metal surface, positioned so that our heads will almost be touching. Isaac walks me over, helping me sit down, and then, he returns to his own bed.
If Isaac hadn't been there tonight, those two infected would have devoured me. Apparently, he is capable of more than I give him credit for. I learn something new about him every day, and it amazes me. Why in the world would he do that for me? To step over those fears that he has faced for years?
I guess he would do it for the same reason that I overstepped my own terrors. Yet, I don't know why I did it, either. The thought of losing Isaac sets off a pain in my chest that I can't explain.
"Sleep good, Isaac," I whisper, crawling into my sleeping bag.
"You, too, Jay."
The floor is hard; the metal beside me is cold. I can feel the blood pulsing in my leg, and there is an ache in my forehead. Two minutes later, Isaac is snoring. I glance up, seeing him with his mouth open a little.
What would Isaac do? He seems notorious for finding the positive in situations.
So, I close my eyes, trying to think of all the good things about sleeping on the hard concrete.
I'm surrounded by people who are generally happy. The cold metal beside me is like a permanent air conditioner; so, there is no way I will get hot. I've never gotten to actually use my sleeping bag. This is also the farthest I've ever been from the compound.
Somewhere between closing my eyes and making a list, sleep finds me. Peaceful, dreamless, cold sleep.
"Jay."
The soft voice in the darkness is one that I haven't heard in a long time. When I was little, it appeared often in my dreams, in the form of angels or fairies. In the cold darkness behind my eyes, I search for the source, some mystical creature that will make the emptiness brighter.
"Jay, you need to eat, and I need to change your bandage."
Food sounds good. Better than sleeping, actually.
I open one eye at a time, stretching my toes in the sleeping bag. It's Mandy's face looming over me. My mom was the voice in my dreams when I was little? I scowl at her, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
"I can change my own bandage," I mutter, fighting to get out of the sleeping bag. I'm still stiff from the night before, and I wince as I try to stand up.
"Okay, then I'll let you do it on your own," she says, shrugging. She hands me a bar of some sort. "Sorry. That's all we got."
I open it, chowing down. Considering it is the only thing I've eaten since the night before, it is delicious. I hum in pleasure, closing my eyes as I chew. Mandy laughs.
"I see you had some issues last night," she says, pushing a first aid kit towards me as I open my eyes again. I ruffle through it, pulling out a roll of gauze. There's not any antibacterial cream; most counter products like that would have gone out of date a long time ago. Compound 4 manufactures it, but I doubt they have any. So, I don't even ask.
"Yeah, a little, but we made it through," I mutter, peeling the gross bandage off my arm. It stinks, like it might be infected. The skin around it is pink and scabbed over, though.
"We really don't run into infected as often as we used to," she says, absentmindedly, picking at her shoes. "Once they leave their nests, they spread out very thin. Plus, there aren't as many around as there used to be."
"What do you mean there aren't as many?"
"You're told within the compound that you're completely unsafe outside, that you're doomed if you step foot outside. When the virus first started, that might have been true. But you and your crew walked around in the open all night last night, and you only ran into two of them."
I stare at her, the gears in my brain moving. She is right, as much as I hate to admit it.
"My theory is: the infected are starving. They need human flesh to survive. With all the humans being in the compounds, I think they're dying off on their own. It's been thirteen years; there hasn't been a second outbreak. I think, maybe, the US will heal itself, like the body will, if it's protected well enough."
Raising my eyebrows, I nod, letting her words sink in. It makes sense, but it is something I hadn't thought about. Being trapped behind the walls, I wasn't given the opportunity to see it, but it is pretty clear.
"Hey, Mandy."
We both look up to Justin, who is fanning himself with his hand. His face is red, and his chest rises rapidly. It looks as if he might have been running.
"What's wrong?" Mandy asks, standing up. I finish wrapping my arm again, pulling my pants up over my knee. It will be fine, if I give it some air.
"Ollie says she's done with the figures," he says, taking gasping breaths, "She says she has a date."
His words mean nothing to me, but apparently, they mean a lot to Mandy. She takes off at a sprint, bolting past Justin who groans.
"I hate running," he mutters, walking leisurely back where he came from. Looking around for Isaac, I follow. His bed has been empty since I got up. I wonder how long he's been awake. However long it was, I needed the rest.
We are back at the circle of couches where Ollie is leaning over the table of papers. Now, she has propped up a whiteboard, numbers written all over its surface. There's also about a dozen huge dry erase calendars, showing the entire year before us.
My eyes fall on Isaac sitting beside Ollie, his hair messy from the night before. At least his face is clean this morning. He's squinting at a map, mumbling to himself as he stands behind Mandy.
"Okay, so I finally broke that code," Ollie says, not even looking up, "And I was able to decipher the file."
Mandy moves to join her at the table, picking up a Manila folder
I'm already lost, but it seems impolite to interrupt. I clear my throat.
Ollie glances up at me, sighing.
"You look confused," she mutters, running a hand through her already messy hair, "Your mother brought two files from the Knoxville CDC Office when she came. It was encoded, and for a long time, none of us had the time or energy to try and crack it. I've been killing myself over it for a few months, now that I have time to really sit down with it."
I nod, walking over to the calendars. There's different holidays scribbled in squares, death days and birthdays as well. Someone scribbled in my arrival and last night's supply mission. One square has been circled in red, outlined in black.
It's a week from today exactly.
"What's this day?" I ask, pointing. Mandy cocks her head at me.
"That's what came of all this," Ollie answers, joining us, "One date. All this work for one date."
She seems more frustrated than anything, tossing the file back on the table. Isaac jumps, looking up at us finally.
"Olivia, you have to actually tell us something. Your rambling isn't helping," Mandy says in a flat tone that seems unearthly calm. "We can't help if you don't tell us anything, sweetheart."
Normally, I would have been annoyed by her endearing tone, but I'm just as curious as she is, if not much more impatient.
"This file tells about three stages of what it calls the 'Decontamination'," Ollie explains, using her hands as she talks. "Stage one was the virus. It was estimated to wipe out 50 percent of the US population. Stage two is a famine, brought on by a widespread crop disease and a new strand of the virus that will infect animals and become water transmittable. I haven't gotten to the section about stage three, yet; the code is very complex. But phase three isn't what concerns me. I was more worried about phase two, and so, I went to the other file to find out more about it.
"The next file outlines how the US government at the time planned to spread the future second strand of the virus and protect those within the walls from the famine and drought. There's blueprints for water filtration machines and a vaccine for animals. Yet, from what I gather, they are planning on taking what they have been manufacturing in Compound 4 and dumping it into the Tennessee River.
"That's what I have Isaac looking for. I want to know if the Tennessee River flows into any major bodies of water around here."
No one says anything, looking over at Isaac. He's inspecting the map again, now following the trail of something with his finger.
It is public knowledge that the virus is not water transmittable. The water sources were always safe, thankfully. Livestock and wild animals were also safe, because the virus reacted negatively with the human genome. If they've been designing a new strand, Ollie has a good reason to be panicking. That means all our food, both livestock, crops, and ocean products will be compromised.
"Isaac," Ollie whines, "Please tell us something."
"I might be wrong," he says, looking up, "But as far as I can tell, the Tennessee River flows into the Ohio, not into any major body of water."
Mandy and Ollie both exhale loudly, but I hold my breath. Isaac never says everything he means to all at once.
"But..." Isaac continues, "The Ohio flows into the Mississippi River, which in turn flows right into the Gulf of Mexico."
Panic fills my stomach; my head spins. The world will starve.
"I assume if they dispose of a huge amount of the virus that it would reach the ocean. It would take a while, and some of it would get lost or dissipate, but it could reach the ocean. After that, I don't know what will happen to it. It's possible that the marine life could transfer it from there."
Ollie is pacing, her hands on her head. I glance at Mandy, who is staring at the math on the board.
"You said you had a date," Mandy whispers, wide eyed.
"Oh, yeah. The math," Ollie mutters, still pacing, "Four thousand, eight hundred thirteen days from the infection date. The file states that you were the first true victim of the virus, and it has the date that they started giving you the virus."
My eyes fall on the calendars, then to the math, and back to the day that is circled and squared.
"Four thousand, eight hundred thirteen days from your estimation date would be exactly thirteen years and six months. That would be next Tuesday," Ollie says, coming to a stop facing the board. "Seven days until phase two begins."