The camera zoomed out, capturing the activity on the sidewalk below the apartment. There were several people in white biohazard suits disappearing behind one of the fire trucks as the reporter continued to speak.
“Sergeant Kavinsky has said that they do not believe that there is any threat to the community at this time; however, they are asking that people try to stay away from the apartment complex and the Luxen outreach facility on Armour Street. We have received word that the facility is also currently being quarantined as a preventive measure until they can determine if there is any risk to the public. The nearby buildings here, which house many businesses, will also be closed until further notice.” She faced the camera once more. “Now, a source close to this investigation who has seen the bodies of the deceased is saying that the condition of the remains are nearly identical to those in Colorado, leading this person to believe that the individuals in this complex, like the family in Boulder, have died of some sort of virus or infection. This source is saying that even though authorities are not publicly stating this yet, it is believed that the infection occurred after close contact with a Luxen.”
Oh no.
Heidi stiffened against me, and my stomach sank all the way to the floor. A massive, destructive infection like … like possibly a flu? Like the kind of flu that killed Ryan?
“That’s bullshit,” Zoe spat.
“If you remember, the cause of death for the family in Boulder is believed to be partially from a hemorrhagic-type fever and a cytokine storm—the body’s overwhelming reaction to an infection. Sometimes you will see that in severe flu cases or with other viruses, but officials investigating the Boulder family have stated that while they believe that was an isolated case, whatever had sickened and killed the family has not been seen before.”
The male reporter suddenly returned to the side of the screen, replacing the image of the apartment building. “And now we have an entire building quarantined with possibly the same sickness, hundreds of miles away.”
Jill nodded. “It hasn’t been confirmed, but our sources suspect that it is the same illness that struck down the family in Boulder.”
The male journalist’s gaze turned somber. “With the increasing acts of violence and terror in cities all across the nation, this surely will help President McHugh’s push to repeal the Twenty-eighth Amendment and increases the likelihood of legislation such as the Luxen Act and reinstatement of the Patriot Act, which is legislation backed by President McHugh, being passed.”
Jill agreed while I stared at the screen.
Beside me, Heidi swallowed thickly. “Do you think it’s possible that whatever Ryan had is what these people died of?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured. “They said that whatever these people had wasn’t a threat to the community, and we’re like a thousand miles from there, but…”
“But you guys heard what I heard, right?” Zoe asked, turning to us. “Sounds like they’re gearing up to blame the Luxen for whatever made these people sick.”* * *“Mom!” I yelled the moment I heard her come home that night, close to midnight, my feet thumping off the steps as I headed downstairs and into the foyer. There was one person I knew who was well familiar with viruses and biological gross stuff that could be passed from one person to the next. Mom. She was a fountain of knowledge since she worked at the United States Army Medical Research and Material Compound at Fort Detrick in Frederick.
I didn’t know how she could still work for a government that had operated and sanctioned the actions of the Daedalus, but then again, there were many in the government who were fighting for the Luxen, and I figured it was safe to assume that there were also many like Mom, Luxen who were hidden in plain sight. And after everything I’d experienced and seen, I knew you couldn’t make any changes if you weren’t in the thick of it. Sitting by the sidelines or hiding only aided the opposition.
“In the kitchen,” came the response.
A candle was burning somewhere, filling the open space with the scent of pumpkin and caramel. I hurried through the living room, where everything was neat and had a place, past the dining room table that had to be replaced after the showdown with Micah, and found her standing at the kitchen island, placing her briefcase and purse on it.
Her hair was smoothed back into a ponytail, and there wasn’t a single strand out of place. I didn’t need a mirror to know that mine was gnarled and resembled a bale of hay at the moment. There was always this inherent grace and elegance about Mom and the way she moved, and I just sounded like a herd of horses clopping down the steps.