Hood Page 3
“What?! If you’re so all-knowing, why didn’t you tell me?”
Kazy glanced at Eva, “What she said.”
“You mean about not interfering?”
Kazy nodded.
“What if I asked for advice?”
Kazy grinned, “Then I might provide it.”
“Okay, then who do you think’s right for me?”
With a snort, Kazy said, “Haven’t met that guy yet.”
“Well, when you do meet my perfect match, be sure to let me know,” Daussie said with a little snark in her tone.
“Not gonna happen. I’m pretty sure ‘perfect’ doesn’t exist.”
Daussie blinked, thinking this didn’t fit her concept of love. But can Kazy really tell who’s suited for whom? After a few steps, she spoke in a more subdued tone, “Well then, let me know when you find someone who’s nearly perfect.”
~~~
When they got to Kaylee’s house, Daussie pulled the door open. They all recoiled a little at the stench emanating from the bodies. Rrica lit her lantern and stepped inside, Daussie right on her heels. She sent her ghirit through the tiny shack. The human bodies were already cool and hard to detect but she could sense small warm spots about the right sizes for three rats and a number of mice. To her dismay, she realized one of the rats was up against Kaylee’s dead mother, apparently making a meal of her.
As they’d discussed, Daussie quickly teleported thin disks out of the bases of the rodents’ brains, instantly killing them. There was some argument in the ancient books about whether rats were necessary to transmit the plague. The germs could be transmitted human-to-flea-to-human. However, there seemed to be little doubt that fleas left dead hosts and jumped to living ones even if they weren’t the preferred host for that species of flea. An obvious first step for the quarantine was to keep the rodents in Kaylee’s house from leaving and going to another one.
Eva quickly looked over the bodies without touching them. “I agree; this just about has to be the plague. I wish we had some way of culturing the germ to be sure, but…” She sighed, “Let’s start checking the neighbors.”
When they stepped out of Kaylee’s shack, Daussie realized Kazy hadn’t come in with them. She was standing about seven meters away. “You’re not coming in?” Daussie asked.
Kazy shook her head, “I’m your uncontaminated messenger. I’m not even getting close to the houses.”
“Why’d you shave your head then?” She waved a hand at the other three and herself, “Just so you could look as awesome as the rest of us?”
“She’s trying to set an example for the people of the town,” Eva said. “You and Jadyn talk to the people in that house while Rrica and I check this one.”
Before they split up to go to the different houses, Daussie asked Eva, “Are you gonna ask everyone at the tavern to shave their heads then?”
“Daum and Tarc already have. Daum’s going to offer to shave Marissa, Nylin, Grace, Farlin, and the others this morning.”
“Oh…”
~~~
The results of their survey of the Grissom ghetto were dismaying. House after house held people sick, dying, or dead. As recommended in her epidemiology book, Rrica started a rough map where she recorded each household and the number of people in each category. She also noted the few who were healthy.
There weren’t that many who were healthy because most of the ones who weren’t sick had left.
The ones who’d stayed behind said that many who’d left did so as soon as they developed signs they were getting sick. Only a few had said where they were going. Rrica made notes of them but it looked like attempts at quarantine could be too little too late.
Those who were merely sick were desperate. Heartbreakingly, after being given a dose of antibiotic, one young girl grabbed Daussie’s leg and clung to it, trying to keep her from leaving. Apparently, as soon as she’d gotten sick the rest of her family had fled, leaving her, the house and the town.
At first, they gave doses of antibiotic to every sick patient who still lived. After each team had checked ten houses, Eva stopped the others and said, “We’re going to have to triage. Triage normally has three groups: Those who’re going to die no matter what we do. Those who’re going to survive no matter what we do. And those we can make a difference for. However, I don’t think we have a group that’ll survive no matter what we do. Therefore, we only have two groups: Those who’re so sick they’re going to die whether we give them antibiotics or not, and those whom antibiotics might save or prevent from getting significantly sick in the first place.”
Eva swept them with her eyes, getting nods from each of the three, then went on. “Each of you take a double dose of either the sulfa or the doxycycline because we’re definitely being exposed and we’re at risk. Then put enough packets in your pocket that you can take the standard doses for the next several days. We’re going to have to stop giving antibiotic to those who’re nearly dead. If we keep doing that, they’re going to die anyway, but we won’t have enough to save the ones who’re only sick.”
She paused and studied the other three, “Do not decide to give some of your own antibiotic to someone you feel sorry for. We’re what’s standing between this epidemic and the deaths of thousands.” She turned, “Rrica, what was the mortality rate for plague in the days of the ancients?”
“Untreated, it was 80 to 90 percent,” Rrica answered soberly. “We’ve got to stay alive so we can save as many of these people as possible.”
Eva turned to Kazy, “Get over to Gellers and tell them this is an emergency. We need as much antibiotic as they can make over the next several days. Whichever one they can make the most of… Or, if running two different processes will let them produce larger quantities, they should make both.”
Looking pale, Kazy nodded and turned to leave.
Eva said, “Wait!” When Kazy turned, she said, “Make sure they understand quantity’s more important than purity.”
Kazy nodded.
“And,” Eva said with emphasis, “be sure they’re dropping everything else to turn out as much antibiotic as they can. Do not let them stonewall you on that, you understand?”
She wants Kazy to use her talent to push the agenda, Daussie thought. Looks like the telepaths’ ethics on using their talent are being outweighed by the importance of stopping this epidemic.
Kazy said, “What if they don’t have enough of the ingredients?”
“Find out what they’re short of and where they can be purchased. Then go make good deals for large quantities of whatever they need.”
“Use our money?”
Eva nodded grimly, “If you have to. We’ll just pray Tarc’s successful at retrieving our funds from Farleysville.” She got a little tremor in her voice. “We’ve got to make sure he has a town to come back to.”
“And after that?” Kazy asked.
“Go talk to the Baron. Let him know what’s going on and that Clancy Vail needs him to lead. We need funds for medicine.” She waved around them, “We need these piles of garbage cleaned up. We need artisans building rodent traps. We need criers going around explaining the plague to the people. Telling them that they need to cut their hair really short or shave it off. They’ve got to start washing themselves and their clothes with soap at least daily. They should wear as few clothes as possible. They need to hang their bedding out in the sun every day to drive out the fleas. They need to clean up their houses and yards to eliminate food sources for rodents.” She turned to Rrica, “What’ve I missed?”
Rrica frowned, “We’re going to need volunteers. People who can distribute medicine to the sick. People to set and check traps. People to make up doses of the medicines.”
Eva sighed, “It’s going to be hard enough to get volunteers to go out and see the sick. Getting ones who’re smart enough to weigh out doses…”
Daussie said, “We’re going to have to make up hundreds, or even thousands of doses. I’ve been thinking that we should measure d
oses with spoons instead of the scale. Maybe we could put the doses in little twists of paper. People could swallow them, paper and all. That might help with the issue that the medications taste bad.”
“I’d rather they just washed it down with a lot of water.”
“Tell them that, but if they really hate the taste or don’t have a lot of water, swallowing a twist of paper with a little bit of water might be better than not taking your medicine at all.”
Eva turned to Kazy looking dismayed, “Yeah, all that. I think as soon you talk to Gellers, you should go to the tavern and tell Daum to shut it down for a few days. We’re going to need everyone to help with the epidemic.”
Kazy said, “And if they don’t want to?”
Heavily, Eva said, “You’re asking if you should influence people, right?” On Kazy’s nod, she said, “Not yet, though it may come to that. If they don’t want to volunteer, they can cook and serve the rest of us.” She glanced away, looking troubled. When she turned back, she said, “I trust you to figure out when you’ll have to influence some people. The Gellers, the Baron, various suppliers. Lives outweigh our ethics regarding when to use our talent, right?”
Looking daunted, Kazy nodded and left.
Eva turned to Daussie, “We need you to go to every house to kill the rodents. Start with the ones Rrica and I already visited.” She turned to Jadyn and Rrica, “Now that we’ve done some houses together, can you guys start visiting houses by yourself so we can cover more of them?”
Though they looked nervous, they nodded solemnly.
***
Morgan Geller was staffing the pharmacy and cosmetic shop at Geller’s when the door opened and a bald kid came in. “Um,” Morgan said uncertainly, “can I help you?”
“Yeah, I’m Kazy Hyllis from the Hyllis tavern. I need to talk to your parents or grandparents. We need more antibiotic.”
From the pitch of the kid’s voice, Morgan thought the kid might be a girl. However, though boys sometimes cut their hair really short or shaved their heads, Morgan’d never heard of a girl doing the same. Trying to ignore the question of the kid’s sex, he said, “My great-grandfather just delivered a big package of doxycycline to the tavern.”
The kid nodded, “We need a lot more.”
They must be wasting it, Morgan thought. Probably giving it to everyone they think might have an infection. Nonetheless, he said, “Let me get my aunt Rachel.”
~~~
Morgan stepped through into the chemistry with a little trepidation. His aunt Rachel had been in a sour mood this morning. “Aunt Rachel?”
“What is it now?” she asked impatiently.
“I’ve got a kid here from the Hyllis tavern. They want more antibiotic.”
She rolled her eyes, “Tell him your granddad just delivered some doxycycline. If they get their shit together and look, I’m sure they’ll find it.”
“I told him… Or her. I’m not sure. He or she says they need a lot more.”
“What’re they doing?” Aunt Rachel said exasperatedly. “Sprinkling it on their pizza?”
Trying not to say something that’d make his aunt even angrier, Morgan said, “I didn’t ask. Do you want me to?”
“Yes! We’ve got other orders you know.”
~~~
When Morgan stepped back through the door to the shop, the kid was looking exasperatedly impatient. Morgan said, “My aunt wants to know what you’re doing with all the antibiotic.”
The kid leaned across the counter toward him. This stretched her thin blouse over small breasts that made it obvious she was a girl. She looked sharply at Morgan. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She had a surprised look for a moment but then shook herself. Speaking with sudden intensity, she said, “We’re treating people with the plague.” She stared so intently into his eyes she somehow seemed to fill his world. “There’re already a lot of dead. You guys need to start making as much antibiotic as you can, as fast as you can possibly turn it out. I don’t want to come into your chemistry and say these things in front of a lot of other people in your lab because we’d rather not start a panic. But if you can’t get your aunt to come out here and talk to me, I’m going to do just that. Understand?”
Plague?! Throat suddenly dry, Morgan swallowed, gave a brief jerky nod and stepped back through the door into the chemistry.
~~~
“Aunt Rachel? You need to come talk to this girl. It’s important.”
With a sigh, Rachel said, “Bring her in here to talk to me.”
“I think that’s a really bad idea.”
Rachel stared at him a moment, then, to his surprise, she stood up. She turned to Morgan’s cousin, “Charlotte, I’m on step nine here,” she said tapping the recipe for the batch of dye she was synthesizing. “If I’m not back in time, I’ll need you to do the dilutions for step ten in about five minutes, okay?”
Charlotte stood up and stepped over, tilting her head to look at the recipe for a moment. “Yes, mom.” She glanced at Morgan, “Though, usually I’m the one that talks to the Hyllises. Maybe Morgan’d like to stay here in the chemistry while I help you out there?”
Though normally Morgan hated being in the shop and would’ve been delighted to stay in the chemistry, he decided this wasn’t the time. He quickly shook his head and followed Rachel back into the shop.
~~~
His aunt went through the door saying, “Okay, what’s so damned important…?” She stopped and stared, “I hope you realize you look ridiculous with your head shaved.”
The girl did the same thing where she leaned way across the counter toward Morgan’s aunt. Intently, she said, “My head’s shaved because the plague’s broken out in Clancy Vail. It’s transmitted by fleas and they like to live in fur or hair. We strongly recommend everyone shave their heads. I’ll assume you can figure out for yourself why we need a lot more antibiotic?”
Morgan’s aunt recoiled from the girl. She pointed at the door and spoke imperiously, “Get out of here!”
Instead, the girl leaned even closer to Rachel. She spoke calmly but in a measured and resonant fashion, her words holding immense gravitas. “You don’t need to be worried about catching the plague unless you’re exposed to fleas that’ve bitten someone who’s infected. At present, I haven’t been exposed. To keep yourself and your family safe you should shave your heads, bathe and wash your clothes at least daily with soap, wear as little clothing as possible, and hang your bedclothes in the sun every day. Also, get rid of rats and mice by sealing garbage and food stores so rodents’ll go hungry and move on. Trap or otherwise kill as many rats and mice as you can.”
Looking glassy-eyed, Rachel said, “What else can we do?”
“Make as much sulfa and doxycycline as you possibly can. Don’t think you can get by just making enough for your family. If the plague runs rampant in this town, it’s going to destroy your livelihood. We need to save everybody, not just your family and friends.”
Knowing how crusty Rachel could be, Morgan expected her to put up a protest. She didn’t exactly, but she did say, “That’s going to be really expensive…”
Thinking she was about to drag her feet, Morgan stepped toward her and said, “Aunt Rachel…!”
Rachel closed her eyes, put out a hand to fend Morgan off, and said, “We’ll get started making as much as we can. But, I hope you plan to talk to the Baron about funding?”
Kazy nodded her head. “Are there any ingredients you’re short of?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to look at the recipes and then check our stocks.”
“If you need help convincing your suppliers it’s important, send someone to find me. I’ll change their minds.”
Rachel nodded distractedly, her mind obviously somewhere else.
***
Grace heard the protracted creak of the kitchen door opening slowly. When she turned, Tarc stood in the opening. Though she was facing the opposite direction, his eyes sought and found Nylin by her straight, glossy, dark hair.
He walked over to stand behind her where she was kneading bread. “Nylin?”
She didn’t turn.
“I’m about to leave for Farleysville.”
She shrugged, “Go then.”
“I wanted to say goodbye and…” It looked like his throat had cramped. After a moment he continued, “And, and, I hoped I could leave on good terms.”
“Goodbye,” Nylin said, still facing straight ahead.
“I, I love you.”
She snorted, “You do not. Go.”
Tarc sagged. Looking like a condemned man, he turned for the door.
Grace opened her mouth and lifted her hand, about to say, “Wait.” But she didn’t. When Tarc was gone she walked over to stand beside her trembling friend. “Nylin?”
Nylin turned slightly away from Grace but didn’t speak.
Grace leaned forward to look at Nylin’s face. When she did, Nylin just turned further to the right. Grace reached out and tugged Nylin’s chin around. The girl’s eyes were rimmed with red and filled with tears. “Nylin! Why didn’t you tell him how you feel?”
In a choked voice, she said, “Because I love him enough to let him go. He doesn’t belong with me.”
“He thinks he does!”
“He says he thinks that,” she rasped. “But I was only a refuge after Lizeth broke his heart. If I’d tried to hold on to him today, then someday, when he realized he didn’t actually love me…” Her head suddenly drooped forward. Behind the curtain of her hair, she whispered, “When that day came, it would’ve been even harder to let him go.”
Grace put her arms around her friend, hugging hard and wondering whether Nylin was crazy or truly perceptive. I couldn’t have done that! she reflected, thinking wistfully of her own unrequited attraction to the unacceptably younger, but oh so handsome Tarc.
***
“Daussie Hyllis.”
The girl had been about to step into one of the hovels in the ghetto. She looked around at her name but obviously didn’t recognize the old, bald woman grinning at her. Then recognition struck… “Ms. Rainey?
Rainey cackled. “You’re not the only one who’s having trouble recognizing me with a shaved head.” She leaned closer and spoke as if revealing a secret, “It’s a great disguise.” She glanced around, “You said you needed some help. What do you want me to do?”