“I was looking for CDC-related reports from the last few days, to see if I could figure out why we have company, and there’s a report from this morning of a break-in at the Memphis CDC.”
“So?”
“So they’re saying one of the doctors died.”
I didn’t need to ask which one. The answer was in Kelly’s sudden pallor, and the way her eyes darted from side to side, like she was looking for an escape route from the apartment. There wasn’t one. With the entire resident staff inside, the door had automatically sealed itself, and it wasn’t going to open for anyone who didn’t have a key.
Or couldn’t pass a blood test.
I wasn’t the only person who’d put two and two together. Alaric took two quick steps backward, nearly tripping over a beanbag chair someone had abandoned in the middle of the floor. Becks stayed where she was, tucking her hands behind herself. She always kept a firearm of some sort in a holster at the small of her back, where it wouldn’t necessarily be spotted. I knew from field trials that she could have it out and aimed in under a second.
Take charge of this situation, or it’s going to get messy. George sounded worried. That worried me, in a “less important than the possibly infected CDC doctor in our apartment” sort of a way. If my inner George was becoming more nuanced, did that mean I was getting more crazy? And if I was, did I mind?
“What do you want me to do here?” I asked, forgetting the whole “don’t talk to George in front of strangers” rule in the face of a bigger problem.
You trained Becks and Dave. That means they’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Alaric might have been helpful if this had happened yesterday, but hes sudo wound up from the field to think clearly right now. You need to settle them down.
Great. It wasn’t enough that my sister was dead and living inside my head; now she was giving me orders. “It never stops,” I muttered, and looked back toward Kelly. “If you died, want to tell us how it is you’re standing here and not trying to eat us?” I paused, then added, “That wasn’t actually a request.”
“If you listen to the report, it doesn’t say I died. It just says they found my body,” she said, in a careful tone that I recognized from way too many press conferences. It was the voice people use when they aren’t saying something.
The silence in the room for the next few seconds was almost palpable, as all four of us struggled with that statement. Dave spoke first, asking, “So you’re listed as dead because you’ve started amplification?”
“No,” Kelly said emphatically. “I’m not infected. I’m willing to submit to as many blood tests as you need in order to prove that.”
She was technically lying: We’re all infected. Anyone born after the Rising was infected in the womb, since Kellis-Amberlee is totally untroubled by the placental barrier. It’s just that in most of us, the virus is sleeping peacefully, rather than taking over our bodies and turning us into something from a horror show. That’s what the blood tests look for. Not infection; amplification. Which raised another question: amplification takes minutes, not hours. If Kelly was exposed to the live virus in Memphis, how could she possibly have traveled all the way to Oakland without fully amplifying?
“So why do they think you’re dead?” Becks sounded pissed, like she was considering drawing on Kelly just to make the confusing situation stop. I shot her a warning look. She glared back.
George was right. I needed to take control of things before they got bad.
“Becks—” I said, cautioning.
“It’s all right, Shaun. I knew I’d have to answer some questions.” Kelly looked toward Becks, saying calmly, “They think I’m dead because the body they found was mine.”
Pandemonium. I doubt there was anything else she could have said that would cause that much chaos, that quickly, amidst my staff. Even “Look, a zombie” would probably have inspired only general interest and a search for things to poke it with. It’s only because we were viewing her as friend, not foe, that she didn’t get a bullet in the forehead as soon as she finished speaking. As it was, the sentence was barely out of her mouth before Dave was on his feet, guns drawn and aimed in her direction. Becks provided a mirror image on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, Alaric was showing a rare degree of common sense for a Newsie and had resumed his retreat, taking cover behind the couch.
All three of them were shouting. Dave and Becks were coordinating their actions; Alaric was just yelling. And through it all, Kelly stood perfectly still, keeping her hands clearly in view. She was trembling, and the whites showed all the way around her eyes, but she didn’t move. I had to admire that. It was the smartest thing she could possibly have done.
“Guys!” I clapped my hands. I didn’t need to draw, since Dave and Becks were already holding guns on her. I could actually be the one playing Good Cop in the potentially life-threatening situation for a change. “She had to pass a blood test to get inside, remember? Chill the f**k out. I’m sure she has a good explanation.” I glanced toward Kelly. “Just a friendly hint, Doc: This would be a really, really good time to say something that makes enough sense that it can keep my people from shooting you. Because around here, dead things are for target practice.”
Kelly turned toward me, making the motion as economical as possible. Even so, Dave’s hands twitched, putting the slightest degree of extra pressure on the triggers. Catching his eye, I shook my head. He eased off. Not enough. If Kelly didn’t have a truly excellent explanation, we were going to need a new carpet.