Aubrey was tall, with long, straight brown hair and eyes that were a stark gray, eyes that reminded him of fresh snow on the mountains.
And honestly, he liked her better in jeans and a T-shirt than a fancy ball gown.
There was a noise at the front of the bus, and the soldier snapped to attention. On command, he hopped to the top step and took a clipboard from another man.
A voice shouted at a line of teens outside the bus. Jack strained to hear.
“. . . to take you to the testing and quarantine facilities. The rest of your classmates have already been moved there. You are the last batch from this county.”
“This county,” Jack repeated, but Aubrey hushed him.
“This will not take long, but it will require your participation. Congress has declared martial law. You kids know what that means? It means that we’re the police now. It means that if you have any problems, you will talk to us, and if you cause any problems, you’ll answer to us.”
There was a long pause. Someone was asking something. Aubrey whispered under her breath, but Jack didn’t catch it.
“Listen,” the soldier continued. “We’re on your side. You’re American citizens and we’ll treat you with as much respect as our orders allow. We have kids of our own.”
Jack heard the response to that. “Then why are we in handcuffs?”
“All will be explained when we reach the quarantine area. I’m authorized to tell you two things. First, the virus that we’re testing for—it’s being spread by the terrorists. And second, all known terrorist subjects have been teenagers.”
Six more teens were on the bus now, though Jack didn’t know any of them. Four were from Manti, the town twenty miles to the south, and two others had managed to escape the shooting at the dance. Jack perked up when the seventh was called.
“Name and town?” the officer on the top step barked.
Matt looked terrified. He was the youngest of the group so far, small, thin, and drowned in his dirtied suit and tie. “Matt Ganza,” he said. “I’m from Mount Pleasant.”
“What school?”
“North Sanpete High. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left the dance. I’m really sorry.”
The officer ignored him, and flipped through a thick notebook. Finally, he held it up, comparing a picture to Matt’s face.
“Okay,” the officer said, and another soldier immediately grabbed Matt’s wrist and slipped a plastic bracelet onto it. He cinched it tight and Matt grimaced.
The officer ordered Matt to find a seat. His eyes met Jack’s, but he turned quickly and sat toward the front.
They moved to the next person in line—Nicole. The soldier helped her up much more gently than he’d done with Matt.
Aubrey stared for a moment and then looked down at her lap.
“Name?” the officer asked.
“Nicole Samuelson,” she said. She was still wearing her dress—a skimpy, shimmering thing that looked like it was made out of giant sequins. She was six feet tall normally, and in her heels she towered over the soldier.
How had she managed to escape the dance without a torn dress or broken stilettos?
The officer flipped through the notebook. “Also from North Sanpete?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling happily as though she was excited they were there. “Go Hawks!”
The man smirked. Jack couldn’t believe it. Nicole was flirting with the soldiers.
The other soldier attached her bracelet, so gently it almost looked loose on her wrist.
When she turned to walk down the aisle of the bus and saw Aubrey, Nicole’s face broke into a smile and she gave her a wink. She sat down next to Matt.
Four more students got on, all younger than Jack. They looked scared. Two were in their pajamas; they hadn’t been at the dance—someone had turned them in.
They were all prisoners now.
ELEVEN
LAURA SAT ON A WIDE flat stone, eating from a can of peaches while Dan washed in a cold creek.
The Eagle Canyon bridge had gone better than they could have hoped for. Dan was able to
And honestly, he liked her better in jeans and a T-shirt than a fancy ball gown.
There was a noise at the front of the bus, and the soldier snapped to attention. On command, he hopped to the top step and took a clipboard from another man.
A voice shouted at a line of teens outside the bus. Jack strained to hear.
“. . . to take you to the testing and quarantine facilities. The rest of your classmates have already been moved there. You are the last batch from this county.”
“This county,” Jack repeated, but Aubrey hushed him.
“This will not take long, but it will require your participation. Congress has declared martial law. You kids know what that means? It means that we’re the police now. It means that if you have any problems, you will talk to us, and if you cause any problems, you’ll answer to us.”
There was a long pause. Someone was asking something. Aubrey whispered under her breath, but Jack didn’t catch it.
“Listen,” the soldier continued. “We’re on your side. You’re American citizens and we’ll treat you with as much respect as our orders allow. We have kids of our own.”
Jack heard the response to that. “Then why are we in handcuffs?”
“All will be explained when we reach the quarantine area. I’m authorized to tell you two things. First, the virus that we’re testing for—it’s being spread by the terrorists. And second, all known terrorist subjects have been teenagers.”
Six more teens were on the bus now, though Jack didn’t know any of them. Four were from Manti, the town twenty miles to the south, and two others had managed to escape the shooting at the dance. Jack perked up when the seventh was called.
“Name and town?” the officer on the top step barked.
Matt looked terrified. He was the youngest of the group so far, small, thin, and drowned in his dirtied suit and tie. “Matt Ganza,” he said. “I’m from Mount Pleasant.”
“What school?”
“North Sanpete High. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left the dance. I’m really sorry.”
The officer ignored him, and flipped through a thick notebook. Finally, he held it up, comparing a picture to Matt’s face.
“Okay,” the officer said, and another soldier immediately grabbed Matt’s wrist and slipped a plastic bracelet onto it. He cinched it tight and Matt grimaced.
The officer ordered Matt to find a seat. His eyes met Jack’s, but he turned quickly and sat toward the front.
They moved to the next person in line—Nicole. The soldier helped her up much more gently than he’d done with Matt.
Aubrey stared for a moment and then looked down at her lap.
“Name?” the officer asked.
“Nicole Samuelson,” she said. She was still wearing her dress—a skimpy, shimmering thing that looked like it was made out of giant sequins. She was six feet tall normally, and in her heels she towered over the soldier.
How had she managed to escape the dance without a torn dress or broken stilettos?
The officer flipped through the notebook. “Also from North Sanpete?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling happily as though she was excited they were there. “Go Hawks!”
The man smirked. Jack couldn’t believe it. Nicole was flirting with the soldiers.
The other soldier attached her bracelet, so gently it almost looked loose on her wrist.
When she turned to walk down the aisle of the bus and saw Aubrey, Nicole’s face broke into a smile and she gave her a wink. She sat down next to Matt.
Four more students got on, all younger than Jack. They looked scared. Two were in their pajamas; they hadn’t been at the dance—someone had turned them in.
They were all prisoners now.
ELEVEN
LAURA SAT ON A WIDE flat stone, eating from a can of peaches while Dan washed in a cold creek.
The Eagle Canyon bridge had gone better than they could have hoped for. Dan was able to
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