me?
“Enough!”
I half shouted the admonition to myself in the solitude of my quarantine chamber. There had been enough questions already. Too many. Musing on possibilities, torturing myself with unknowns, would do nothing to better my mental state at the moment. For a while, at least, I had to let go.
My eyes opened and I stared at the empty space beyond the barrier. Just stared and waited for this new nightmare to end.
Ten
C ommander Genesee came to check on me a few hours after I silenced the radio. Martin returned not long after that, with Schiavo. She was dressed down, in civvies, holding her husband’s hand. They sat with me and talked for a while through the antiseptic transparency that bisected the space, sharing that Doc Allen had returned to his duties as the town’s leader and was, at that moment, coordinating with Sergeant Lorenzen a further increase in Bandon’s defensive posture.
Elaine did not return with them.
Each told me that they hadn’t seen her since she’d left to allow me my desired privacy. And as Martin and Angela departed, with night falling and darkness closing in on the room’s lone window, permanently nailed shut, I was alone again.
But not for long.
“You’re going to tell me this is stupid.”
It was Elaine’s voice. The sound of it was wonderful, and close, and unfiltered by the barrier and the electronic intercom in place to allow clear communication through it.
I turned away from the window and saw her, standing near the exit of the corridor which led to the airlock. She was on the same side of the plastic as I was. In the same space. Breathing the same air.
My air.
“Elaine...”
“It’s already done,” she said, a very faint but very, very real smile upon her face.
“You have to get out of here,” I told her, backing away.
She stepped toward me and shook her head.
“It’s already done. I’m here.”
There was nowhere I could run to put distance between her and myself. Between whatever had been put inside me and the woman I loved.
“I’m not leaving you,” she said, her hand taking mine. “We’re going through this together.”
I shook my head. She put her free hand to my cheek and stopped the gesture. Then she rose slightly on her toes and kissed me, ending any chance that, if I were contagious, she could avoid becoming infected.
She settled back onto her feet and looked me in the eye.
“And we’re going to come out of it fine,” she promised me. “Together.”
* * *
N one of those responsible for quarantining me were even remotely pleased at what Elaine had done. But, aside from turning back the clock with magic and preventing her from joining me, there was no way to fix what had transpired.
So we waited. Together.
Commander Genesee had informed us that ninety-six hours would likely be the window in which some symptoms of what I’d been infected with would appear. Four days. That was how long we might have to wait.
Two days into our quarantine we heard the gunfire.
Elaine had been on the bedroom floor, expending nervous energy by doing fast pushups, and I’d been occupying myself with a bit of nostalgia, reading through Micah’s voluminous old notes on everything from the food cache lockers he’d learned of, to estimates on how far his signal would travel when he would broadcast as Eagle One. I might have continued exploring the writings of the late child genius had the rapid crack of distant weaponry not invaded the bored silence of our morning.
“Where is that?” Elaine asked urgently. “South? To the south?”
She’d leapt from her position on the floor and come fast into the space where I sat near Micah’s workstations. For a moment I didn’t move, taking in the bursts of gunfire, my head angling left and right like a weather vane, attempting to discern their point of origin.
“Yeah,” I agreed with Elaine, rising. “South. Maybe just outside of town.”
“There’s a checkpoint there, now,” she told
“Enough!”
I half shouted the admonition to myself in the solitude of my quarantine chamber. There had been enough questions already. Too many. Musing on possibilities, torturing myself with unknowns, would do nothing to better my mental state at the moment. For a while, at least, I had to let go.
My eyes opened and I stared at the empty space beyond the barrier. Just stared and waited for this new nightmare to end.
Ten
C ommander Genesee came to check on me a few hours after I silenced the radio. Martin returned not long after that, with Schiavo. She was dressed down, in civvies, holding her husband’s hand. They sat with me and talked for a while through the antiseptic transparency that bisected the space, sharing that Doc Allen had returned to his duties as the town’s leader and was, at that moment, coordinating with Sergeant Lorenzen a further increase in Bandon’s defensive posture.
Elaine did not return with them.
Each told me that they hadn’t seen her since she’d left to allow me my desired privacy. And as Martin and Angela departed, with night falling and darkness closing in on the room’s lone window, permanently nailed shut, I was alone again.
But not for long.
“You’re going to tell me this is stupid.”
It was Elaine’s voice. The sound of it was wonderful, and close, and unfiltered by the barrier and the electronic intercom in place to allow clear communication through it.
I turned away from the window and saw her, standing near the exit of the corridor which led to the airlock. She was on the same side of the plastic as I was. In the same space. Breathing the same air.
My air.
“Elaine...”
“It’s already done,” she said, a very faint but very, very real smile upon her face.
“You have to get out of here,” I told her, backing away.
She stepped toward me and shook her head.
“It’s already done. I’m here.”
There was nowhere I could run to put distance between her and myself. Between whatever had been put inside me and the woman I loved.
“I’m not leaving you,” she said, her hand taking mine. “We’re going through this together.”
I shook my head. She put her free hand to my cheek and stopped the gesture. Then she rose slightly on her toes and kissed me, ending any chance that, if I were contagious, she could avoid becoming infected.
She settled back onto her feet and looked me in the eye.
“And we’re going to come out of it fine,” she promised me. “Together.”
* * *
N one of those responsible for quarantining me were even remotely pleased at what Elaine had done. But, aside from turning back the clock with magic and preventing her from joining me, there was no way to fix what had transpired.
So we waited. Together.
Commander Genesee had informed us that ninety-six hours would likely be the window in which some symptoms of what I’d been infected with would appear. Four days. That was how long we might have to wait.
Two days into our quarantine we heard the gunfire.
Elaine had been on the bedroom floor, expending nervous energy by doing fast pushups, and I’d been occupying myself with a bit of nostalgia, reading through Micah’s voluminous old notes on everything from the food cache lockers he’d learned of, to estimates on how far his signal would travel when he would broadcast as Eagle One. I might have continued exploring the writings of the late child genius had the rapid crack of distant weaponry not invaded the bored silence of our morning.
“Where is that?” Elaine asked urgently. “South? To the south?”
She’d leapt from her position on the floor and come fast into the space where I sat near Micah’s workstations. For a moment I didn’t move, taking in the bursts of gunfire, my head angling left and right like a weather vane, attempting to discern their point of origin.
“Yeah,” I agreed with Elaine, rising. “South. Maybe just outside of town.”
“There’s a checkpoint there, now,” she told
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