Quarantine by James Phelan Read Free Book Online Page A

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    â€œDon’t know,” I replied. “I’ve been wondering about finding her—lately. Since all this happened. I’ve had plenty of time to think, you know? What about yours?”
    â€œSan Fran,” she said. “I visit her every two weeks. It’s a short trip now—she used to live in Phoenix, which was harder. Moves around a lot.”
    I caught her look of doubt, as if she were questioning her own use of the present tense, so I shifted the conversation. “Do you like L.A.?”
    â€œWhere we are, yeah, I like it,” she said. “Good friends, awesome weather, and we’ve got, like, the best beaches.”
    Her eyes . . . it was hard to look her in the eyes, harder still to choose which color iris to focus on.
    â€œMom’s seeing a guy, he’s okay,” Paige said, a little distant in thought. “Audrey didn’t used to be so cool. Actually, I kind of hated her, until all this happened. She’s changed. I’ve changed. Hell, everything’s changed, right?”
    I nodded. The rest of the room was listening to Tom read from the Bible, his voice low and resonant, his flock nodding and believing.
    â€œWe go to church sometimes,” I said to Paige, and I felt her look at me as I watched the flickering of the candles on our table. “Dad and me. No special occasion, we just might be driving by one or whatever. We go in, light candles for those who aren’t with us anymore.”
    For a moment I could clearly see a mental slide show of all the faces of the departed. There were not enough candles in the world right now.
    â€œThat’s nice,” she said. Her hand under the table squeezed my leg. “We should do that, tonight—light some candles for the friends you lost.”
    I nodded. Was now the right time, while we were talking close like this, to ask her to leave? I want you to leave here with me . I went to take her hand in mine but she moved it. I looked away, at Daniel.
    â€œYou know, we’re lucky here,” she said. “We’ve got good shelter, and just about everything we need—things that might be scarce out there on the road. That’s what you’re dying to ask me, isn’t it? Will I leave?”
    â€œWell—”
    â€œWe have a couple of badly wounded people who can’t walk—what’s supposed to happen to them?”
    â€œYou could use the truck—”
    â€œWhat if we can’t drive it in this weather? On those choked roads?”
    We watched the black clouds rolling in for the night’s snow dump, the strong frozen wind fast behind it.
    â€œI hear what you’re saying . . .” I admitted.
    â€œBut you’re not convinced that we’re doing the right thing, are you?” Paige asked, looking at me.
    I was taken aback by her question. “If it were me in your situation? Yeah, I probably would leave,” I replied. What a choice. Wait until trouble comes knocking on your door here or go out and meet it head on. Who’s to say which is the greater risk?
    â€œBut way out there, Jesse? On the road, like sleeping in abandoned houses or whatnot until, what, we somehow find safety?” Paige threw a golf ball out onto the snow-covered fake plastic turf. When it landed it disappeared, swallowed up by white. “I mean, for you, maybe, but for the women and the younger kids here—it’s not for us.”
    â€œYeah, it’s cool,” I said. “I get it.”
    â€œTotally makes sense to play it safe, yeah? At least while it’s so cold and the days are so short.”
    She asked, “There’s nothing that gives you any doubt about leaving here?”
    â€œMy two friends at the zoo? I can’t leave them behind, and I can’t let them wait around. I want to get them to safety.”
    â€œDidn’t you say that you had another friend too—a guy?”
    I thought of Caleb, and how I felt must