Pandemic (18 page)

—Blue Flu interview, public health official

I
dropped off TK at Reggie’s house with a diaper bag of supplies and my cell phone number, making sure my phone was charged in case Reggie needed to reach me. Then I walked to Megs’s with a backpack filled with shopping bags and a can of hornet spray, just in case. I moved quickly, glancing around me every few seconds, always aware of my surroundings. Several houses had broken windows like ours. I didn’t have any real weapons to defend myself, but so far, no one else was out.

Before entering the Salernos’ house, I checked for signs of looters, but everything seemed locked up. I took the spare key from under the fake rock where Megs had hidden it without telling her mother. As a cop, Mrs. Salerno hadn’t approved of keeping a key four feet from the front door.

Stepping through the doorway was the hardest thing I’d had to do. Being at the empty house made reality impossible to ignore. I hovered in the doorway before finally going in, locking the door behind me.

I stood in the kitchen for a long time. Megs and her mom were dead. Not away on vacation, like I tried to imagine. For a crazy moment, I smelled popcorn, but it was only my longing that Megs would push the bowl in my direction like she had a thousand times before.

I had come to say good-bye, but I had to take care of business first. The germs in the house would be gone by now. Jay was right: Megs and Mrs. Salerno would want to help me, would want me to survive. They wouldn’t mind if I took food and medicine that I needed.

Still, it somehow felt intrusive looking through their bathroom cabinets. I mumbled, “Sorry,” as I opened the doors. I found a bunch of over-the-counter meds, which went into my bag, and some unknown prescriptions for Mrs. Salerno, which I left. Then I checked the pantry. No baby food, of course, but lots of soup and canned goods I could eat. When the backpack overflowed, I filled three shopping bags, too.

I thought about leaving the food by the stairs, but I didn’t want to let it out of my sight. Panting from the burden, I trudged up to Megs’s room and put the bags down outside her door.

Stopping at the threshold, I breathed in the honeysuckle smell. There was a finished history assignment about the
Titanic
on her desk, next to a half-empty glass of water. Clothes she had been trying on for her mystery date covered the floor.

Her life, cut short.

Memories of us together flashed through my mind: Megs laughing so hard on the last day of freshman year that orange soda came out her nose; Megs letting me sign her cast first when she broke her wrist; pinky swearing that we wouldn’t pick ugly maid-of-honor gowns for each other’s wedding.

My legs started shaking so hard that I couldn’t stand. I sank onto her bed, burying my face in her pillow.

Oh, Megs. How can you be gone? This can’t be real. It can’t be.

When the sobbing finally slowed, I grabbed a tissue from her nightstand, knocking a flash of blue to the floor. I leaned over, grasping the necklace she’d mentioned in her last message to me. My sorrow for Megs seemed to have settled on my chest like a hundred necklaces. I slipped the silver chain around my neck, the teal blue pearl cool against my skin. It wasn’t enough to heal my hurt but it did make me feel a fraction better. “I hope you’re watching out for me, Megs,” I whispered.

If she hadn’t gotten sick, she would have met Jay that Friday night. Maybe they would be going out now. Megs and I would’ve had a good laugh over that. Her mystery guy had been in our school all along. She would have chided me for fretting about her safety. I could almost hear her voice: “See? I told you not to worry.”

Now her life was over. And how could the world measure the value of a time so brief? What was the point? Did her existence even matter?

Of course it did. Megs made a huge impact on me, acting as a lifeline over the past year. High school post-Mr. B would have been unbearable without her support.

That made me wonder. If I died next week, would my life count for anything? This was our very own
Titanic
, our history in the making. It was an opportunity for heroism and greatness and yet I was an anxious ball of nerves, crying in my dead friend’s bed.

Leaving everything else in Megs’s room untouched, I grabbed the backpack and bags of food, locked up, then rushed home as fast as I could under the weight. If I hurried, I could still make it to Jay’s meeting.

There’s safety in numbers
, I tried to convince myself as I surveyed the group assembled in Jay’s backyard. I knew Beth and Elsa by sight. And then there was Kayla, overdressed for a charity mission. She raised her eyebrows at me but didn’t bother to say hello.

“You made it,” Jay said, looking pleased as he approached me.

Ethan arrived with Derek shortly after. We gave each other a cautious greeting. Then Derek sat with the girls and Ethan pulled me aside.

“Where’s your baby?” he asked.

“My neighbor’s watching him for me.”

He looked sheepish. “Sorry about our last conversation. Things got stressful when family moved in with us. Then Aunt Lori died—”

“The one who liked to crochet?”

He nodded. “And my cousin, Barry, too, the one who lived alone in New Providence. If someone would have checked on him, maybe . . . well, that’s why I’m here.”

“I’m really sorry,” I said.

“Everyone will lose somebody before this is over.”

Somebody like Megs. I toyed with her necklace.
I’m doing the best thing by being here, right? I’m acting strong and brave, trying to help other people
because it needs to be done.

Ethan and I joined the others. Elsa shimmied over to make room for him at the picnic table. Jay sat next to me on the other side, while Ty presumably played video games in the house. Kayla and Beth lounged on mismatched chairs.

Once everyone was settled, Jay explained the general plan: by banding together, we could help people in the immediate area. Then I explained about finding TK uncared for at a neighbor’s house.

“There could be others,” I said.

“And besides the memorials,” Jay said, “there were two new posts on my blog. Scott McGraw asked for pain reliever, and Jenna Fuentes needed food.”

“Yo, I know Scott and Jenna,” Derek said.

“How many people are listed on the memorial page?” Kayla asked.

“One hundred and eight.” Which included Megs, although Kayla hadn’t said a word about her to me.

“The disease is international now,” Elsa said. “The World Health Organization upgraded it from a phase five to a phase six. The virus is spreading among the general population, not just in localized clusters.”

No one spoke for a few minutes.

Beth, the school’s theater diva, enunciated as if speaking to an auditorium full of people. “Look, I feel bad,” she said, raising her hand palm up for effect. “But why should we help anyone else? It’s a big town. What are we going to do, knock on doors and see who’s still alive? My parents would kill me if they knew I was involved with that.”

“I’m not sure that’s safe,” I said. “There have been lootings and . . .” Fears of Mr. B rushed my mind. I thought of someone like him answering a door, grabbing me, and pulling me inside. I doubted 911 had a quick response time these days.

“What if we focus on other high school students?” Ethan said. “We could check on our friends.”

“I think it needs to be wider than that,” Jay said.

“Who put you in charge?” Ethan argued.

Whoa. Since when was there so much tension between those guys?

“Chill out,” Derek said. “Does anyone have a map?”

“We must have one somewhere,” Jay said.

“Don’t they give school employees a master student directory?” Kayla asked. “If we use your aunt’s directory to mark where the kids live, we could begin with those families.”

“What about pets?” Elsa asked. “There might be animals trapped in the houses, too. We should bring some dog and cat food along, just in case. My mom’s a vet. I can get her to drop some off for us.”

I remembered the cat that had scurried out of the Goodwins’ house, suddenly feeling guilty that I didn’t try to help it.

“Animal food. OK,” Derek said.

“What I want to know is why the town isn’t organizing anything like this?” Beth asked.

“
Portico Press
reported that half the volunteers they counted on are too sick to help,” Jay said. “They’re caring for the ill people first.”

“And what if we become fatally infected?” she asked.

“I have some masks from my aunt you could wear,” Jay said. “I can’t drag Ty around, so we’ll serve as home base here. You can call me with any updates and I can track which houses you visit. If people are nervous about the first round, they can stay here with me.”

“I could stay with Jay,” Kayla piped up. “I mean, I could keep an eye on his brother while he works on the computer.”

“Right.” Her motive became as obvious as her shiny red lip gloss.

“I could stay with Jay, too,” Beth said.

“Do you like animals?” Elsa asked Derek.

“Love ’em.”

“We can visit houses together then.”

Ethan looked at me. “Lil?” he said. “Partners?”

Not seeing a way out, I nodded. Apparently the pandemic made everyone want to hook up—some type of hormonal-survival thing.

“It’s too bad we can’t bring soup or something with us, in case people are desperate,” Derek said.

“Does anyone have extra food?” Beth asked. “I know we don’t.”

I thought about the bags I’d taken from Megs’s house. Did I have enough to share? Even with my improved attitude, the idea of giving my food away made me panicked.

“You’re Miss Community Service,” Kayla said with a cold stare. “At least you used to be, remember? Too bad you can’t whip up a food drive.”

Next, she’ll be inviting Mr. B himself to help us, too.
I pushed him out of my mind. We needed extra food. I looked away from Kayla. Then I smacked the table. “That’s it! A food drive! The school held a spring collection, remember? The donations must still be there. There were boxes and boxes in the hallway. We could each take some home to our families and still have enough to share.”

“If you could find a way into the school,” Ethan said. “Do you think anyone’s working in the building?”

“I doubt it,” Jay said. “Could we get someone to unlock the doors?”

“Even if we could, I don’t think they’ll simply hand over the food,” Beth said.

I thought about completely restocking my shelves and almost started to salivate. “We need to take it. If someone hasn’t already, that is.”

“You want to break into the school?” Elsa asked.

Derek smiled. “Cool! I’m in.”

“I’m not stealing anything,” Jay said.

I glanced at him. His mouth was set in a determined line. Why was he so reluctant about this? “But all those donations, sitting there, unused,” I said. “If people contributed the food, it’s not steal—”

“No.” He crossed his arms, looking away. “I’m not doing anything illegal.”

I followed his gaze to where Ty waited safely inside.

“I need to go check on my brother. I’ll look for maps while I’m in there.”

“OK then,” Ethan said when Jay was gone. “Someone’s a chicken.”

I glared at him. “Shut up.”

“Just because your new boyfriend—”

“He’s
not
my boyfriend.”

Kayla smiled like when she won class president in eighth grade. “Really?” she asked. “So, should you leave for the school soon?”

“My bro’s got a pickup truck I can borrow,” Derek said.

Jay returned to the group, calmer, and soon we had outlined a plan. Kayla would stay to watch Ty and plot the student directory homes on the map. Elsa would call her mom to make arrangements for the pet food. I’d ride my bike to the school and meet Derek, Beth, and Ethan there. The less time I spent with Ethan, the better.

“I’ll ride part way with you,” Jay said. “It might not be safe.”

Ethan frowned. “Come on, Jay. Everyone who’s helping can squeeze into the truck.”

“Where are we going to put Lil?” Derek asked. “In the way back, holding onto the tailgate?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Besides, we’ll need that room for the food on the way back. I’m hoping there’s a lot. Can you get a wagon to pull it out of the school? And some tools to get us in?”

Derek nodded. “Worse case we hurl a rock through the window, stick our hand in, and unlatch the door.”

Which was exactly what we did. The broken glass made me pause—that’s what the looters had done to my house. But this was to help other people I reminded myself. And when we saw the huge amount of food collected inside, it was worth it.

“There must be ten boxes here,” Ethan said. “And another twenty bags.”

“Let’s start moving them,” Derek said. “Where are we going to take all this?”

“We can store it at my house.” I promised myself not to hoard all the food, as tempting as it was.

“It smells like bleach,” Beth said.

I sniffed. “Maybe they disinfected the school?”

By the time we almost finished moving the food, our mood turned giddy. The boys shouted rock song lyrics and even Beth seemed surprisingly cheerful, turning cartwheels in the hallway. Derek kept the beat by banging on the lockers.