A New Day in America by Theo Black Gangi Read Free Book Online

clip.”
    Romo counts the money with his fat hands. He looks to the doctor and nods.
    “Take off your shirts, please,” says the doctor in an even tone. He has a quiet face, and his expression hasn’t changed at all. He examines Nos and Naomi: a standard check up he mindlessly performs—throat, ears, chest, heart, reflexes. He shines a fine blue light into Nos’ eyes and then Nay’s.
    “I’ve got good news and bad news,” says the doctor through thin, scrunched up lips, as though his features are fingertips pressed close together.
    Nos lets out a long exhale.
Please
, let her be fine.
Let her be fine
.
    “You daughter was exposed, but the strain has yet to metastasize. After a series of inoculations, she will be OK.”
    Nos’ face brightens. The smile feels strange on his face. He looks to Naomi with a wave of relief.
    “The bad news is you. You have not only been exposed, you are infected.”

Chapter 15
Infected
    Nos tries to remember when he possibly could have been exposed—at some point during the fight? Or when he washed off Nay? When installing the window bars? The disease is treacherous.
    Two syringes full of a clear liquid sit on the counter. The doctor presses a third, ungodly-sized syringe into a vial. He draws back the plunger and fills the tube with a thick pink fluid. He sets the pink syringe beside the other two, nearly twice their size.
    “Where did this medicine come from?” Nos asks.
    “Some kind of air drop,” Romo answers, though he’d asked the doctor. “We found crates under parachutes all over the park. The vaccines, the cure, treatment, antibiotics, the tents, instructions. Someone was watching out.”
    And then you snatched up all the supplies and hoarded the medicine. Now you make people pay to save their own lives
.
    The doctor swabs Naomi’s shoulder and pricks her skin with the small needle. She winces but makes no sound. She looks fearfully at the doctor, and he doesn’t smile. He removes the needle and holds the swab in place for the Band Aid.
    He then takes the pink syringe, turning to Nos.
    “I have to administer the cure before I can inoculate you.”
    He swabs Nos’ arm, pricks him, and presses the fluid into his vein. The cure runs through Nos, and he feels his whole body expand. Then the pain is gone, and he is euphoric. He feels
good. Damn good
.
    The doctor then injects the clear inoculation fluid into Nos’ shoulder, though by this point he barely notices.
    “We need to quarantine you two.”
    “Quarantine? How long?”
    “Twelve hours,” says the doctor. “In twelve hours you get another shot, then another twelve-hour quarantine, and your third and final shot.”
    “You’ll be just fine,” says Romo. “Lucky we caught it when we did.”
    Quarantine
. Vile word, Nos thinks. But he feels good.
    And Nay is OK.
    Lucky
.
    The guard leads them to a white tent and unzips it Four others are inside. One deadbeat in a dirty overcoat and rags paces, angry, muttering about how he isn’t sick.
    “
Just give me my motherfucking shot, stop taking my shit, I got a house, a mortgage, a fly-ass car. I got a house, a mortgage, and a tricked out M6 with the crazy whip-appeal. Give me my shot. Let me go. I got a house…”
    He is annoying, but he addresses no one, so no one has to bother with him. Another sits on the bench, sleeping, and another is asleep on the floor. The fourth is Latino and awake. He wears a filthy linen suit and smells of cheap cigars, Black and Milds maybe, like burnt sugar. He has a tan Taino face and thick, round stubby fingers with gold rings. A hard, shining metal cigar case sticks up from his jacket lapel pocket.
Roughneck Ricky Ricardo
, thinks Nos. The suit is crusty and his shirt is untucked, but he still wears it with pride. He rakes the newcomers over with his eyes, nods to Nos, and smiles at Nay.
    Nay looks tired.
    “You sleepy, sweetie?” Nos asks softly.
    “I can stay awake,” she insists. Still, she can tell there is a different