Part 31 (2/2)

”One way or the other, but my baby is still our safest bet for getting to my place on the Shenandoah.”

Overhead, a low droning sound began, and we backed away from the parking structure to get a better view of the sky. The noise gradually grew in volume until a military transport suddenly growled into view, skimming the tops of the buildings. Its rear loading dock was down, and as we watched, a large palette was pushed off the back.

A parachute opened above it as it fell.

”They're air-dropping supplies!” yelled Chuck as he jumped awkwardly through the snow toward Ninth Avenue.

I followed on his heels.

Rounding the corner, looking straight up the street, I was greeted by the surreal vision of a long line of crates slowly descending on parachutes. The wind dragged the one closest to us into a building, smas.h.i.+ng into windows. Dozens of other planes buzzed in the distance, each dropping their loads over different parts of the city.

I watched, captivated. ”I'm not sure if I should be happy or worried.”

The crate nearest to us crashed into the snow, and dozens of people came from nowhere to converge on it.

”Come on,” said Chuck with a nod of his head, ”let's see what we can grab.”

He pulled his rifle off his back and began running toward the crowd, waving the gun in front of him.

Shaking my head, I followed behind.

Day 20 January 11.

”DID YOU KNOW that we're the only animals with three species of lice?”

Scratching my head, I replied, ”I did not know that,” and then scratched my shoulder.

Vince was busy inspecting his sweater.

”Yeah, I saw a Discovery Channel special on it a few weeks ago.”

We gathered everyone in the hallway to listen to the president's message, scheduled for ten in the morning. The hallway was just warming up. We turned off the kerosene heater in the evenings. It was too dangerous to leave it on at night.

Twenty-seven people crowded together in the hallway, plus Irena and Aleksandr guarding the five prisoners in their apartment. Thirty-four souls in our building that we knew about, all up on the sixth floor-except for the nine dead on the second.

The Borodins had volunteered to use their bedroom to hold Paul's gang. Lauren wanted us to hold them somewhere further from the kids, but spreading ourselves out wasn't practical or safe anymore. We'd given up on guarding the entrance or stairwell and had started guarding just our end of the barricaded hallway.

Irena told Lauren not to worry, that if the door to their bedroom moved, they'd just shoot, and that in a day or two they would be too weak to put up much of a fight anyway.

”The head louse, the pubic louse, they're not so bad,” continued Vince, ”but the body louse” -peering closely at his sweater, he pinched at something and held it up for me to see-”now these are little b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.” He crushed the louse between his fingers.

The ham-radio-sphere was abuzz with speculation about what the president would be telling us-that we were at war, that we'd been invaded, that it was the Russians, foreign terrorists, Chinese, domestic terrorists, Iranians. Everyone had a theory.

Even more sinister were the meshnet reports of hundreds or even thousands of dead inside Penn and Javits, and that the cholera had spread to Grand Central Station. There was speculation about typhoid.

”I don't think I have any pubic lice yet,” said Vince, looking down toward his crotch. ”Guess it wouldn't be a big deal if I did. Haven't had much action lately.”

He laughed and looked up at me. I smiled and shook my head.

Richard was staring angrily at us.

”Could you shut up about lice? I'm trying to listen.”

If the physical environment was turning into a cesspit, the interpersonal environment was even worse. It was poisonous.

”That's just some stupid hack,” shot back Vince, shrugging. The president's message hadn't started yet, and we were listening to a commentator speculating about what he might say.

I looked at Richard and tried to defuse the mood. ”He was just messing around, trying to lighten things-”

”We've had enough of your messing around,” growled Richard, ”using us as bait, spying on us.”

It had slipped out that we'd been using Vince's meshnet to track their movements, and that we'd planned the trap of Paul's gang without telling them what was happening.

Richard and Rory were livid, but Chuck was just as angry.

”With good reason!” erupted Chuck. ”One of you is a spy for them.”

He wasn't holding back, especially since he knew we would be gone by tomorrow morning. Just one more secret we were keeping from our floor mates.

”A spy? For them?” said Rory angrily. ”Who is them? Are you listening to yourself?”

Chuck pointed an accusing finger at Rory.

”I don't want to hear a peep from you. You're the only one who's been near Paul's apartment, and those messages from here to there-”

”I already told you, I stopped and checked some garbage near that apartment. I didn't know we were under surveillance.”

”You slimeball. All that Anonymous hacking stuff, and I saw you down there talking with Stan before all this started-”

”You want to know who is buddies with Stan?”

Rory pointed at Richard.

”Talk to him.”

”Don't drag me into this,” said Richard, shaking his head.

”Why not?” I asked.

Richard laughed. ”I bet you were using that system to track Lauren, weren't you?”

I couldn't help myself. ”Shut up.”

Lauren was sitting beside me. She pulled her hand away from me and looked at the ceiling.

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