Chapter 12

They needed food and water. A quick survey of the pantry and the kitchen cabinets revealed them to be, if not fully stocked, then more than half-full. Even without a printed expiration date on any item containing foodstuffs, however, the youngest they could expect to find would be three and a half times their own age. Camilla had no desire to open a can of SpaghettiOs fifty-six years old. Her dad wasn’t that old.

“Don’t open that refrigerator,” she warned.

Bill glanced at the offending metal box, eyeing the ancient fan of mold growing in both directions away from the door seal. The refrigerator had the type of latch-handle that swung out when pulled; whatever biological horror lay inside, it was locked up tight. She wanted it to remain that way. Then she reconsidered.

“Think any water might be in there?”

Bill shook his head and laughed. Camilla didn’t imagine that bottled water was invented yet, certainly not the case-lot variety purchased at Kroger in shrink-wrapped flats. Did Perrier even exist in 1963?

“What do you think really happened here, Bill?”

Hoping to answer Camilla’s just-voiced question, they had explored the house top to bottom, including the spooky rock-walled basement with its infamous set of salt and pepper shakers.

Unexpectedly discovering Bill’s bedroom closet and chest of drawers full of clothes, they immediately checked those of his parents, finding them full, also. And despite the low November temperatures, Mr., and Mrs. Denbrough’s coats hung neatly in the hall closet, alongside Bill’s winter coat. Factoring in the pantry and kitchen cabinets stocked with canned goods and perishables as though on a typical November weekday, it appeared that Bill and his parents had just up and vanished. The half-full wastepaper basket beneath the kitchen sink hinted at when that had happened, if not necessarily why. Among the contents Camilla observed tipping it out were discarded copies of Friday’s, Saturday’s, and Sunday’s newspapers. Bill’s fastidious mother didn’t allow papers to collect in Mr. Denbrough’s chair-side bin; she dropped them into the wastepaper basket every afternoon prior to delivery of the new Herald-Tribune. Since trash collections occurred Tuesday and Friday mornings on Hemlock Street, Monday’s read newspaper should have joined its predecessors under the sink. It had not.

At Camilla’s suggestion, they had scoured the four newspapers front page to back, trying to discover concrete evidence--or even a strong indication--of what led to an evacuation. The number of boarded-up houses along Hemlock, the scant few cars in driveways or left abandoned at the curb (Bill’s parent’s 1960 Chevrolet Impala among them) were evidence enough of that. Camilla remembered the few vehicles populating East Palmer Street. One possibility appeared at the bottom of page four of Monday afternoon’s paper. While Bill had browsed past it earlier, Camilla spotted and scanned the small article with a growing sense of unease. She retrieved the paper now from the small stack atop the small kitchen table, opened it to page four, and read the article aloud.

“‘Boston Health Department officials today confirmed an outbreak of influenza centered in the southeast suburb of Quincy, a city of 88,500. Since Saturday night, vicinity hospitals have reported a rapidly growing numbers of cases, triggering an influx of patients to local emergency rooms. The first cases were reported only Saturday morning, making this outbreak especially worrisome, advised an unnamed health department official.’

“‘This strain appears even more virulent than the East Asian outbreak of H2N2 in 1957, which the World Health Organization classified as a pandemic. It’s not certain yet, but it’s believed that hospitals are seeing a higher-than-expected mortality rate with this virus, possibly upwards of 5%. The typical rate with most influenzas is less than 1%, which makes us believe this is a recurrence of H2N2, or a close variation.’ Officials expect the outbreak to worsen over the upcoming Thanksgiving holidays.’

“‘A smaller outbreak was reported Sunday morning outside Atlanta, Georgia, with a possible third outbreak coming to light in Miami, Florida. A fourth is suspected in Virginia Beach, Virginia. The Centers for Disease Control (CDC) is attempting to confirm the virus as H2N2, or another strain. Meanwhile, public health officials urge caution if visiting affected areas, taking appropriate preventative measures such as regular hand washing, and avoiding close contact with anyone suspected of being sick. Officials point out that holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas are historically known as sickness-spreading events.’”

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, tapping the paper. “Biological weapons were banned decades ago, but everyone knows that we and the Russians still have them.” She snorted. “Just about everyone else in the world, too, including North Korea and Iran. Back in 1963, though...”

“They weren’t so prevalent,” he agreed. “But we have no treaty with the Russians, or one between us and the Chinese. I read Alas, Babylon and I Am Legend, Camilla. I know what an epidemic could do to the population. It might explain why Marshall is a ghost town now. We’re not far from Boston, and if that’s where an epidemic broke out—”