Quarantine by James Phelan Read Free Book Online

down.
    â€œDon’t need to convince me of that.”

7
    B ob’s revelations made me sick in my stomach. If they were not going to move, then I was wasting time here. First light, I could leave, back to the zoo, take my chances heading out with the girls—but if it was dangerous for four grown men to head north, what chance for a sixteen-year-old and a couple of girls barely older? Little to none.
    But part of me thought that if I could convince anyone here, it might be Paige. She seemed to like me. Better yet, if I could convince her, get her onboard, that might bring on Audrey, then Tom, and with his reasoning might come the people who were too spooked to leave because of what had happened to those who’d dared venture out.
    I found Paige playing poker with a few others. I made a beeline for her: she’d bathed and was wearing track clothes, pajamas maybe, her hair still wet and wrapped in a towel. I joined in and quickly bet myself out of the game. The same thing happened to Paige and, game over, I followed her out.
    When I looked in on one of the groups, through the glass wall, I saw a middle-aged couple quietly arguing.
    â€œKinda surprises me,” I said to Paige, settling on a new thought that had just hit me.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œThat, in there—the arguing. That there’s still anger, there’s still confusion, all that baggage between people.”
    â€œBaggage?” she said, looking back to the couple.
    â€œWhatever it is we carry around. Guilt, regrets, anger, all that useless stuff getting in the way of living in the now and surviving.”
    Earlier on, all I’d seen was these people’s cheerful acceptance of their situation. But there was division here. Maybe that was something I could use to get people to come with me. Leaving this city with half this group was a better prospect for me and Felicity and Rach than no one leaving but us.
    All I had to go on was my few days of UN camp training before the attack. We’d sat in on talks and lectures about negotiating skills, delegation, and second-guessing the decision making of others. We’d participated in mock scenarios that made us confront what the facilitator called “the ugly reality of diplomacy.” I’d never have guessed that, two weeks on, I’d be dealing with real-life situations fraught with all these issues and more. Would Paige or the others believe me that the risk involved in seeking out a better, safer existence was worth it?
    I wanted to take her someplace quiet, but she led us to the adjoining room, an office now set up as a makeshift chapel. “I want you to see this,” she said.
    Paige and I watched as Daniel led about twenty people in prayer before bed. Bob entered and moved up front, a happy little preacher’s boy inside the body of a pro wrestler. He was wearing a T-shirt that exposed the tattoos on his neck and arms, the crude monotone type that spoke of time spent inside.
    Bob filmed everything. I sat next to Paige, on the periphery.
    â€œIn being a priest, Daniel is a symbol of hope to so many here,” she whispered to me. “Are you religious?”
    â€œNot especially,” I replied. “I went to a Catholic school for a bit, but then we moved, and dad was cool with all that kind of stuff, never really into it. Tell me about your parents.”
    â€œDad’s a plastic surgeon. He and Mom divorced about ten years ago when I was—Jesse, how old are you?”
    â€œSixteen.”
    â€œYeah, me too. Everyone else here’s either heaps old, or a kid. Where’s your mom?”
    â€œI’ve got a stepmom too,” I said. “She’s not like Audrey though, mine’s a dragon—and not a cool Harry Potter dragon.”
    â€œI don’t think Harry Potter’s cool.”
    â€œMe neither,” I whispered back. “Third book was okay, though.”
    She smiled. “Did your mom live close