Scott Sigler - Contagious

“Mister Jenkins, do you have a map?”

“Of course, honey,” he said. Mommy helped him out of the chair. He waddled to the kitchen.

Chelsea had to get everyone out of there. She was running away, not just from the devils but from the boogeyman . Running away wasn’t as bad as peeing her pants, but it wasn’t good, either. She was growing stronger, she knew that. Maybe someday soon she could face the boogeyman.

Face him, and kill him.

Mr. Jenkins came back with a folded paper map and walked to the dining-room table.

It was covered in guns—four hunting rifles with those big scope things, two shotguns and one pistol. Boxes of ammo filled in the spaces between the guns.

“Can you guys clear this off?” Mr. Jenkins said. “Chelsea wants to see a map.”

Hands shot in to remove the guns and ammunition. Chelsea liked how fast everyone moved.

Mr. Jenkins spread the map out on the newly cleared table. Chelsea, Mr. Burkle, Mommy and Mr. Jenkins gathered around it.

Chelsea stared at it, but she didn’t really know how to read a map.

Mommy stroked her hair. “Do you know what you’re looking for, honey?”

Chelsea nodded, then shook her head. “How can you tell where there are lots of people?”

Mr. Burkle pointed to a yellow spot on the map. Chelsea saw the word FLINT in big black letters on top of the yellow.

“See the yellow?” Mr. Burkle said. “The more yellow, the more people there are.”

Chelsea bent her head and stared at the map. Her blond hair hung down and touched the paper. She put her finger on the map and raised her head, her face all smiles.

“This place has the most yellow! So that means it has the most people, right?”

Mr. Burkle looked, then nodded. “Yes. There would be a lot of people there, all right.”

“This is where we’re going.”

“So what now?” Mommy asked.

“Well,” Mr. Burkle said, “we have to figure out how to show a soldier God’s love, make sure no one finds out, and get out of town without getting killed.”

“And pick up more dolly daddies on the way,” Chelsea said. “We need enough dollies to make the gate. Mister Jenkins, how many people will your big car hold?”

“The Winnebago?” Jenkins said. “Hmm, probably ten more people, no problem. Will that be enough?”

Chelsea shrugged. It was getting easier to reach out, to find the others. She was in contact with three more dolly daddies. So many things to do—give a soldier smoochies, get past the other soldiers and get to the place with lots of people. How could they do it all?

She had an idea, an idea that Chauncey wouldn’t like. Maybe she just wouldn’t tell Chauncey. She wasn’t sure if the idea would work, though—she needed some help to figure it out.

What she needed was more brain power.

Like a few minutes ago, when they all had that feeling…

“Everyone, think with me,” Chelsea said. She closed her eyes. Even though she couldn’t see, she felt the others close their eyes, one by one. Their thoughts melded together, and they started to plan.

Three more cars to go. She could fool them. She had to fool them. They wanted to kill her whole family but Bernadette wouldn’t let that happen.

She had to stay calm, keep the kids calm. William was in the passenger seat, all buckled in. He was scared, she knew, but he was being quiet. Sally and Christine were in the backseat. They were being so good, just perfect little angels. She’d tucked a blanket around them so they wouldn’t get cold.

Two more cars to go. She pulled her Saab up one car length.

Shawn was still back home. The cheating bastard. Let him stay there, let him have the whole house to himself. He’d fucked around on her, she just knew it. Maybe with that little whore secretary at his construction office. He hired a girl who dyed her hair jet-black and wore all that eye makeup to be a secretary ? Bernadette didn’t know what a goth was and didn’t want to know. Probably just another term for slut , which is what the little whore most likely was.

She knew he’d cheated, because the voices told her so.

One more car to go. She pulled up again. She rolled down her window. Cold winter air poured in.

The soldiers were everywhere. Soldiers and cops. They wanted to kill her, she just knew it. She didn’t want to go near them, but the voices had told her to go this way, told her she could get past the checkpoint, onto the highway and away from Gaylord.

The soldiers had some kind of test. Maybe it was like a Breathalyzer. She’d passed those before. The voices told her she could pass it, and she believed them.

After all, if you can’t believe the voices in your own head, who can you believe?

“Mom, where are we going?”

“We’re leaving, William,” she said. “Now, I told you to be quiet. Are you going to talk again?”

William’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head violently. No, he wasn’t going to talk again. If he did, she’d just have to deal with him.

The pickup truck ahead of her pulled forward. A state trooper stood in front of her car. He waved her closer. She inched up slowly until he snapped his palm out, signaling her to stop.

She stopped.

Another state trooper leaned down and looked in her open window. He had one hand on her door, the other hand on his gun. Peeking out under that ridiculous cop hat—where did they get these meatheads, anyway?

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said. “We’ve set up this roadblock to do a quick test for a bacteria that may be in the area. Are you familiar with the situation?”

“Of course I’m familiar with the situation . You think I don’t watch the news? You think I’m some inbred trailer-trash hick that watches the Springer show? I know all about the situation , and we’re fine, we don’t have the bacteria. We’ll just drive through, then you can get on with it.”

The trooper looked less than pleased that Bernadette would not be taking the stupid test, but those were the breaks. Fuck him.

“I’m afraid we do need to test you, ma’am,” the trooper said. “It will only take a second. We also need to test your children, but let’s get you first.” He held up a narrow foil envelope. He was wearing surgical gloves. “Please open this packet, ma’am, then pull out the swab inside, run it inside your cheek and along your gum line, then hand it back to me stick-first.”

“I’m sorry, Officer, but are you deaf? I just told you we don’t need to be tested. Let’s remember that my taxes pay your salary. Now, unless you want me to take your badge number and make your life a living hell, get your partner out of the way. We’re in a hurry .”

The trooper stared at her for a second. Then he looked at William. Then he looked into the backseat. His brow furrowed beneath the brim of his hat. His eyes widened. He suddenly stood up and took a step back.

His hand stayed on the grip of his gun. “Ma’am, step out of the car, right now.”

He knew. That fucking cop knew .

Bernadette pushed the gas pedal to the floor. Her Saab shot forward. The state trooper in front of her car dove out of the way. The on-ramp to I-75 was only a few hundred feet from here—she could make it. There was a state police car parked across the on-ramp. Maybe there was enough room on the shoulder to get around it.