Aziza quickly organizes everyone and we all scurry off in different directions. Sailor is with me and we hurry toward the first cubicle. I pull the curtain back. A young man lies on a bed, his face deathly white, screwed up in obvious pain.
“Sorry. Wrong place,” I say.
He barely glances at me as I let the curtain fall back into place.
We try the other curtains. None of them hide Grace. We’re heading back to the waiting area when Sailor nods to the right. I follow her glance to a room marked as a quarantine area.
“We should check in there,” she says.
I nod and head for the door. I march through it, almost daring anyone to try and stop me. Sailor is right behind me. The room contains ten beds, all full. Nurses move back and forth between the beds, issuing jabs. I spot Dr. Hill in the center of the room and we approach him.
“Rye, Sailor,” he says. “You’re not feeling sick are you?”
We shake our heads as Jenny comes running over to us. She hugs Sailor and then high-fives me. She’s wearing a protective mask.
“This is serious, guys. Four people have died already,” Dr. Hill says. “And just between us, I’ve never seen anything like this virus before. I should probably tell you two to put masks on, but honestly, I don’t think it will do any good. They’re dropping like flies.”
He shakes his head, catching himself saying too much.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “This is all just a little overwhelming. I thought Whisper was meant to be quiet. Safe.”
“What happened?” Sailor asks. “Where did the virus come from?”
“It seemed to originate in the elementary school. My wife’s a nurse in the ER and when the first few cases arrived there, she walked out and went to the school to pull Jenny out. She’s around here somewhere now, trying to help out. Then some people came in saying they were at the restaurant when they started to feel ill. They just keep coming. We’re overfull already but it’s not like we can turn people away, is it?”
“The restaurant?” Sailor says.
I can see the horror on her face.
“My dad…Adam Monroe,” she says.
“I haven’t seen him. Leave me your number and I can call you if I hear anything,” Dr. Hill says.
Sailor quickly writes her number on the scrap of paper Dr. Hill offers her. Jenny pulls on my sleeve while Sailor is writing.
“Lots of people are sick, but it’s okay because my daddy is a doctor and he can make them better,” she says.
I rub her head.
“Yeah, your dad is going to fix everyone.” I smile.
She skips away and I turn my focus back to Dr. Hill.
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but if you two aren’t sick, then this really isn’t the place for you to be,” he says.
“Actually, we were looking for Grace,” I say. “She’s missing and the sheriff said to try here.”
“Ah. Grace. Yes. I—”
“Doctor? Do you have a minute?” a nurse says, poking her head around the door.
“Give me a moment,” he says to us.
He’s gone before I can ask anything further, leaving Sailor and me in the middle of the ward.
“She’ll be okay,” Sailor says. “You know Grace. She probably saw what was going on and came here to help.”
“Yeah.” I smile. “That would be Grace all over. And it would explain why she isn’t answering her cell phone too.”
Dr. Hill comes back into the room. He gestures for us to follow him, and I know it’s bad news. I can tell by the way he looks at us with sympathy in his eyes. Sailor senses it too, groping out blindly for my hand as we follow Dr. Hill. He takes us into his office.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “Grace passed away.”
“Are you sure it was Grace?” I ask, still hoping that somehow this is just a coincidence and Grace’s death is nothing more than a mistake.
“Yes,” Dr. Hill says. “One of her teachers from school brought her in. Said she found her in the street like that. She was barely breathing and she was quite delirious. She was muttering on about the horsemen of the apocalypse of all things. She lost consciousness quickly. We tried to resuscitate her, but it was too late.”
He’s still talking but I can’t hear him for the blood pounding through my ears. I feel my knees give way and I fall heavily into the chair beside Dr. Hill’s desk. Sailor puts her hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. Her touch is an anchor, the only thing that stops me from drowning in grief.
How can Grace be gone?
“Rye? Are you alright?” Dr. Hill says, peering at me.
I force myself to focus on him. To get control of myself. Grace’s death confirms it. This is bad. Really fucking bad. And I need my head screwed on.
“I’m sorry, yeah, I’m alright,” I say.
“I was just saying I would never normally give information like that to anyone but immediate family, but I have no contact details for Grace’s parents. Do you happen to know how I could reach them?”
I shake my head.
“Grace is emancipated from her parents. We all are. We’re the only family she has.”
Dr. Hill looks at me like he wants to say more, but I don’t have time to play twenty questions with him. I stand up and open my mouth to thank him, but before I can say anything, a wailing sound comes from the corridor.
“Help me. Please. Someone help me. My baby. My baby is sick. Help me, please.”
“Go,” Sailor says as Dr. Hill looks at the door. “We’re fine.”
He nods gratefully to her and dashes out into the corridor. Sailor turns to me, tears shining in her eyes and running down her cheeks.
“Rye, I’m so sorry,” she says.
I get to my feet and hug her quickly, needing to take a moment to feel the closeness between us, the lifeline I can cling to.
“We have
