“I don’t know. I’m not going to leave—” her voice tightened up more—“I’m not going to leave until I find out how this … this is going to go.” She refused to let herself be negative. Leslie Hollister was going to make it. “Not until I hear that Leslie is stabilized.”
“Don’t worry about anything here. We’ve got things under control.”
Someone whooped enthusiastically in the background.
Megan felt an immediate backlash of anger at whoever sounded so delighted. Everything in the world had changed. Her family was scattered, some of them maybe lost … forever. There wasn’t a teen in her house who hadn’t lost someone. It just didn’t seem fair that anyone would be happy.
She took a breath, held it a moment, then let it and her anger out. What she was hearing, she knew after years of counseling and raising kids of her own, was the resiliency of youth. Nothing lasted forever in a young person’s life. Everything changed every day. They just made the adjustment and kept moving. Youth was a river, a constant stream that flowed wherever it could.
But not all of those young people can make those adjustments, Megan reminded herself. That’s why Leslie is here.
“How about you?” Jenny asked. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” she said. Yeah, right.
Jenny was silent.
Megan knew at once that the young woman didn’t buy into her fib. There was something about Jenny McGrath, some skill or sense that could see deeper than most people twice her age.
“Okay,” Megan said, “I’m not fine. But I’m holding up.”
“I could probably get away from here for a little while. Stacy and Richard can keep the household running. Not much to it, really. Just make sure everybody uses the popcorn button on the microwave and keeps spills to a minimum.”
Stacy and Richard Delmonico were two of the most responsible teens in the group. They were brother and sister. Their mother was a career drill sergeant currently assigned TDY to Fort Sill. Their father was in Nevada visiting his ailing mother. So far neither parent had called, but a lot of phone lines were still not functioning. In spite of their own worries about their parents, the two kids had stayed calm and helped greatly around the Gander household.
“I appreciate that, Jenny. Really I do. But I wouldn’t be good company.” “That,” Jenny said, “would be my part of the bargain. I could even bring you something to eat. I bet you haven’t eaten yet.”
“No,” Megan admitted. Around the house, she sometimes forgot to eat even though she helped prepare so many meals for the teens. Every time she did forget, Jenny always seemed to be there to remind her.
“I’ve got homemade chicken noodle soup. I could bring you a thermos.”
Megan’s immediate impulse was to say no.
“Is anyone with you?” Jenny asked before Megan could answer.
Megan glanced at the two young MPs. “No.” They weren’t her friends. The only friends she had at the hospital had disappeared or were swamped with emergencies.
During the past few days, Megan had greatly missed Helen Cordell, the night-shift supervisor who had worked at the counseling center and the base hospital. Helen had, like so many other people Megan had known, disappeared. Megan hadn’t seen the clothes that Helen had left behind, but she had heard stories of their discovery.
“You could use a friend,” Jenny said decisively. Another whoop went up from the Monopoly crowd as someone went directly to jail. “And I could use a break from Camp Gander. Just for a little while. Gotta be quieter at the hospital, right?”
“Right,” Megan said.
“I’ll nuke the soup. Be up there in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Jenny.”
“No prob. I’ll see you soon.”
Megan clicked the phone off and started to return it to her purse. Then she realized that if her cell was working Joey’s might function as well. She punched in her son’s number and listened, hoping that he would answer so she would know he was all right. Then she could open negotiations to get him back where he belonged.
United States of America
Columbus, Georgia
Local Time 2243 Hours
Joey Holder woke slowly, fighting his way through cottony layers of fatigue and a hangover. He was beginning to recognize the symptoms after the last couple days, but he still wasn’t used to them. He’d never been a drinker, and had never gotten interested in overindulging—until two days ago.
Occasionally he’d sipped alcohol one of his buddies had swiped from home, but he’d never gotten inebriated. He knew his mom would probably know immediately, and he figured that Goose might just kill him on the spot.
Opening his eyes wide in the darkness, Joey stared up at the ceiling. Demons and devils stood out in glowing purple, green, and red on the walls. Horns and chains covered the fantastic and hideous creatures. Seductive women in wisps of electric blue clothing accompanied the monsters.
I’m in hell, Joey thought in wide-eyed panic. He surveyed the gruesome creatures. Then he calmed himself, remembering the posters on the walls and the ceiling in the borrowed bedroom where he slept. He just hadn’t noticed they were black-light posters. In fact, he barely remembered stumbling into the room at all that afternoon.
He rolled his head, noting that he hadn’t even made his way to the bed before collapsing. He lay on the floor within arm’s reach of the bed. A headache pounded at his temples. When he swallowed, he felt like he was trying to choke down a dead cat covered in talc. Most people probably didn’t know what it tasted like, dry and bitter and thick, but Joey could still remember when he was really small and had licked the talc container.
At least I didn’t puke my guts up tonight, he told himself. That had happened yesterday morning. He’d woken up in his own vomit and freaked out. He hadn’t even known he was sick; the whole night before was a blur.
He sat
