wake her up if you want. She has a degree in tropical medicine, I think.”
I wasn’t sure how tropical medicine might help in this situation, but I knew Chuck was trying to be comforting. It was reassuring that Pam was nearby.
“It can wait till the morning.”
“So what would you think of a little vacation in Virginia?” asked Chuck as he handed my drink over.
“Virginia?”
“Yeah, you know, our old family place in the hills near the Shenandoah? It’s in the national park, only a few cabins on the whole mountain.”
“Ahhh,” I replied, the light dawning. “Time to bug out?”
He motioned toward the TV, still on but with the sound muted. The CNN headline scrolling across the top was about a bird flu outbreak being reported in California.
“Nobody knows what the hell is going on. Half the country thinks it’s terrorists, the other half an attack by the Chinese, and another half thinks it’s nothing at all.”
“That’s a lot of halves.”
“Glad you have a sense of humor.”
Taking a sip from his drink, he grabbed the remote from the kitchen counter and turned up the volume on CNN . “Unconfirmed reports of bird flu have been springing up all over the country, with the latest in San Francisco and Los Angeles, where health officials have quarantined two major hospitals...”
I sighed heavily and took a big gulp of my drink. “I most absolutely do not find this funny.”
“Emergency services all over the country are screwed, cell phone networks jammed,” said Chuck, looking at the news. “It’s a total mess out there.”
“Don’t need to tell me. You should see the hospitals. Has the CDC confirmed anything?”
“They confirmed the emergency notifications, but nobody’s been able to get in to find out what’s going on.”
“It’s taking that long? It’s been ten hours already.”
Chuck took a deep breath and shook his head. “With the internet down and this Scramble virus messing with logistics, nobody knows where anyone is or what they should be doing.”
Rubbing my eyes, I took another sip from my drink and looked out their windows. It had started to snow in earnest, and a steady stream of snowflakes flashed out of the darkness, spinning and swirling with the wind.
Chuck followed my eyes.
“These storms coming, it’s going to be worse than Christmas a few years back, like a frozen Sandy.”
I hadn’t been in New York for the big blizzard in 2010 that had dumped over two feet of snow the day after Christmas, but I’d heard about it. Seven-foot drifts in Central Park with waist-deep snow in the middle of the streets, but there were snowstorms almost as bad every year now. I’d been there for Sandy, though, and a frozen version of that frightened me. New York had become a magnet for perfect storms.
“You guys should just get going,” I said, watching the snow. “We can’t leave. Not with Luke sick like this. He needs to rest, and we need to be close to hospitals.”
“We’re not leaving you here,” said Susie firmly, looking at Chuck. He shrugged and finished off his drink.
“Charles Mumford,” she continued after a pause, “don’t be ridiculous. All this is going to blow over. You’re being dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” shot back Chuck, almost throwing his glass at the TV as he pointed at it. “Have you been watching the same stuff I have? Chinese declaring war, a biological attack spread across the country, communications down—”
“Don’t exaggerate. They did not declare war. That was just some minister puffing his chest for the cameras,” countered Susie. “Anyway, look at all this stuff.” She motioned around the apartment. “By God, we could hole up in here and survive till next Christmas with all this.”
Finishing my drink, I waved my hands in the air.
“I don’t want you guys to fight. I think this will blow over and by tomorrow morning things will calm down.”
I turned to Chuck.
“If you want to get going, I totally understand. Do
I wasn’t sure how tropical medicine might help in this situation, but I knew Chuck was trying to be comforting. It was reassuring that Pam was nearby.
“It can wait till the morning.”
“So what would you think of a little vacation in Virginia?” asked Chuck as he handed my drink over.
“Virginia?”
“Yeah, you know, our old family place in the hills near the Shenandoah? It’s in the national park, only a few cabins on the whole mountain.”
“Ahhh,” I replied, the light dawning. “Time to bug out?”
He motioned toward the TV, still on but with the sound muted. The CNN headline scrolling across the top was about a bird flu outbreak being reported in California.
“Nobody knows what the hell is going on. Half the country thinks it’s terrorists, the other half an attack by the Chinese, and another half thinks it’s nothing at all.”
“That’s a lot of halves.”
“Glad you have a sense of humor.”
Taking a sip from his drink, he grabbed the remote from the kitchen counter and turned up the volume on CNN . “Unconfirmed reports of bird flu have been springing up all over the country, with the latest in San Francisco and Los Angeles, where health officials have quarantined two major hospitals...”
I sighed heavily and took a big gulp of my drink. “I most absolutely do not find this funny.”
“Emergency services all over the country are screwed, cell phone networks jammed,” said Chuck, looking at the news. “It’s a total mess out there.”
“Don’t need to tell me. You should see the hospitals. Has the CDC confirmed anything?”
“They confirmed the emergency notifications, but nobody’s been able to get in to find out what’s going on.”
“It’s taking that long? It’s been ten hours already.”
Chuck took a deep breath and shook his head. “With the internet down and this Scramble virus messing with logistics, nobody knows where anyone is or what they should be doing.”
Rubbing my eyes, I took another sip from my drink and looked out their windows. It had started to snow in earnest, and a steady stream of snowflakes flashed out of the darkness, spinning and swirling with the wind.
Chuck followed my eyes.
“These storms coming, it’s going to be worse than Christmas a few years back, like a frozen Sandy.”
I hadn’t been in New York for the big blizzard in 2010 that had dumped over two feet of snow the day after Christmas, but I’d heard about it. Seven-foot drifts in Central Park with waist-deep snow in the middle of the streets, but there were snowstorms almost as bad every year now. I’d been there for Sandy, though, and a frozen version of that frightened me. New York had become a magnet for perfect storms.
“You guys should just get going,” I said, watching the snow. “We can’t leave. Not with Luke sick like this. He needs to rest, and we need to be close to hospitals.”
“We’re not leaving you here,” said Susie firmly, looking at Chuck. He shrugged and finished off his drink.
“Charles Mumford,” she continued after a pause, “don’t be ridiculous. All this is going to blow over. You’re being dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” shot back Chuck, almost throwing his glass at the TV as he pointed at it. “Have you been watching the same stuff I have? Chinese declaring war, a biological attack spread across the country, communications down—”
“Don’t exaggerate. They did not declare war. That was just some minister puffing his chest for the cameras,” countered Susie. “Anyway, look at all this stuff.” She motioned around the apartment. “By God, we could hole up in here and survive till next Christmas with all this.”
Finishing my drink, I waved my hands in the air.
“I don’t want you guys to fight. I think this will blow over and by tomorrow morning things will calm down.”
I turned to Chuck.
“If you want to get going, I totally understand. Do
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