Holly Fever (Mondamin Court #1)

Chapter 12

After breakfast, Zoey tried to read from a novel, but found it hard to pay attention. The girls read kids' books or drew at the table. Darren mostly sat on the couch and muttered about being bored.

Around midmorning the silence was broken by a truck. Zoey ran to the window. It was an all-terrain Army vehicle. It was barely visible, even though it was only half a block away, the snow was blowing so heavily. It had stopped about halfway down the street, near Darren and Misshasha's house.

"What are they doing?" Darren asked.

Four figures in white climbed out. They looked huge, buried under heavy winter gear and then covered in oversized white suits. The suits included masks, and their faces weren't visible.

They split up and went in pairs up to the nearest house. They knocked on doors and looked in windows. After a while they marked something on a clipboard and went to the next house.

"They are rounding up survivors, taking them to the camp," Zoey guessed.

"I don't like them," Esther said. "They look scary."

"Maybe Dad's at the camp?" Ruth ventured.

"I ain't going to no camp," Darren said. "Fuck that. I survived the fever. What if I get it again? Can you get it again?" There was a note of hysteria in his voice.

"I don't think so," Zoey said. "I'd say we survived, so we are immune."

"You sure?"

She shrugged. "No."

"I don't want to get sick again," Ruth said. "But what if Dad's there?"

"If your dad is alive, he'll come for you," Zoey said. "I agree with Darren." For once. "I'd rather not go. But if you want to . . ."

"No," Esther whispered. She grabbed her sister's shirt. "Sis, no. I don't like those guys. I want to stay here."

Ruth looked uncertain, but she nodded. "Dad will come when it's safe," she said, as if trying to convince herself. "I know he will. Until then it's best to stay here."

"Can we?" Darren wondered. "Will they just say, 'Fine, stay'?"

Zoey thought they would, except for the girls. They weren't hers, obviously. They could lie, say they were Darren's kids. But would they believe them? "We can hide," Zoey said. She went to the door and threw the bolt. "Get in the back of the house. They aren't breaking in or anything. We'll just lie low until they've gone. When the crisis is over and we know," she pointed at the radio, "that it's safe, then we'll go contact someone."

They didn't have much time, so they simply lay on the floor of the dining room with the couch in front of them. The sounds of boots crunched across the porch, and there was a knock at the door.

Misshasha tried to rise to go see what was going on, until Zoey whispered something about "hide and seek" in her ear. She crouched down in an exaggerated attempt to hide.

Before long the men were gone, turning down the U and making their way back out of the neighborhood. Did we do the right thing? Zoey wasn't sure. Maybe they'd be safer in some government aid camp. But she'd seen the early ones before the TV went out and heard enough of the news on the radio. Long barracks packed with sick people and too few workers; no wonder so many were dying.

They had a wood stove for warmth, a stacked pantry, and a well out back. They could survive here for weeks if need be.

Besides, there were the girls. Their dad might be alive in one of those camps, but the odds were against it. She'd heard the news that morning: ninety-percent mortality. It was more likely he was dead than alive. And then what? They would become orphans, in some orphanage with no one who knew them or cared for them. How well do you know them? Do you care? I mean, really care . . . like, love them? Zoey shook the thought off. It didn't matter, they were her responsibility now. And Zoey couldn't leave. Not unless she was willing to condemn Mom's goats and chickens to death. Even if the others left, she'd have had to stay for them. But were they, by themselves, enough to keep Zoey going?