Contagion: Contagion Series

2

Vincent, who hadn’t been paying particularly close attention, looked up at the sound of his wife’s gasp and followed her gaze to Alegra’s shoulder. His phone dropped to the floor, and he shot to his feet. His body seized with tension and his arms were frozen by his sides, but his knees shook as though powerless. His eyes went wide like Bianca’s, but his mouth stayed closed. He clenched his jaw and stared at the spots on his daughter’s shoulder. Alegra stood there, silently weeping while she waited for her parents to say something, anything to break the silence. It felt as if she were standing for hours before she heard the shuffle of feet. Vincent dashed across the living room to the window, frantically twisting the plastic rod to shut the blinds. When that was done, he raced across to the other side of the house, doing the same.

He repeated the process with each window until there was no sign of the night sky from inside the lower level of the house. Bianca collapsed onto the couch, her hands still covering her face, but not tight enough to keep the tears from seeping through and down her arm.

She shook heavily as she sobbed, unable to look at her daughter. Not out of shame, but as though she had already lost her.

Realizing that no one was paying attention to her, Alegra lowered the sleeve of her shirt and crossed her arms, the warm house suddenly chilly, and sat next to her mother on the couch. Bianca felt the shift in the cushions and looked up at her daughter sitting distraught next to her. Without warning, she threw her arms around Alegra and continued to cry, letting the tears soak her daughter’s shirt. Vincent stepped back into the living room, pausing in the doorway as he watched his wife and daughter crying on the couch. Until now, he had been thinking only of defending his family from what came from beyond the walls of his house, his castle.

As a father, he had remained strong, but now the enemy was inside. They had been invaded, and it had taken him by complete surprise. He could no longer bear the sight of his family so broken and beaten. Vincent slowly and cautiously made his way around to the front of the couch and knelt down in front of the women, putting his arms around them both. All three heads touched together in a crying huddle, and together they let their emotions pour onto each other and the floor. Minutes later, after the shock wore off at least enough to function, they moved from the living room to the kitchen table. It helped to change the setting. The living room would not be able to escape being the reminder of where the news dropped that their family’s life was put in danger forever.

The dining room offered a better alternative and sitting around the table helped change their states of mind. They sat as though around a conference room table, discussing matters in a calm and collected manner. Bianca held a cup of coffee in her hands.

The heat of the cup didn’t bother her as she spun it slowly on the table. She stared down at the mug before speaking. There was calm rationality in her voice that neither Vincent nor Alegra expected from her. Vince, what are we going to do?

Vincent sat across the table from Bianca, while Alegra sat at the foot. Vincent also had a cup of coffee in front of him, but instead of fidgeting with it, he let it sit right where it was, not paying the slightest bit of attention to it. His elbows rested on the table, and he folded his hands into a fist in front of his mouth, as though holding a microphone. I don’t know, B. This is all happening so fast. He let his hands fall to the table, still clenched together. We can’t stay here, that’s for sure.

The weight of the words fell heavy on the group. They were all silent for a moment, not wanting to believe that they would have to abandon their home for so many years, but unable to deny the truth in Vincent’s words.

Where would we go? said Alegra, breaking the silence.

I don’t know, said Vincent. The CDC is going to be looking for us pretty soon if not already, which means that wherever we end up, it’s not going to be inside the country."

Bianca let out a long sigh. What about the kids? I mean the twins and Aurora. What are we going to tell them? They’re so young; they won’t understand.

Not at first, no, said Vincent. We can’t tell them until we get to wherever we’re going. We’ll just have to make something up, he added.

How much time do we have? gulped Bianca. Do you think they’ll come tonight?  

Vincent looked at Bianca, his eyes locking with hers. Not wanting to expose his fears with Alegra sitting in front of them, he lied. No, I don’t think they’ll come tonight.

Did you tell anyone about this Alegra? asked Vincent.

No...I didn't tell anyone dad. stuttered Alegra. I'm so sorry for putting us in this position. she sobbed.

Bianca understood. She looked at Alegra and gave her a forced smile, reaching out and placing her hand on her daughter’s arm with a gentle squeeze. Honey, it’s okay. This wasn’t anything you did wrong.

Alegra ripped her arm away from her mother’s grip, her chair sliding back with a loud groan. Don’t touch me! I’ll get you sick, too! she shouted.

Honestly, said Vincent, if you’ve had it, we’ve already been exposed enough to have gotten it, too, if it’s taken hold. Grabbing your arm isn’t going to help or hurt.

Alegra’s eyes widened, and Bianca shot Vincent the nastiest look he had ever seen. What is wrong with you? Can’t you see she’s already freaked out? You’re not helping. snapped Bianca.

Okay, okay, I’m sorry, just trying to put things in perspective. He stood and walked to the far side of the table and leaned on the back of a chair. Look, regardless of anything else that we know or don’t know, or whatever happens to us, we’re going to be in this thing as a family, one unit. We might as well start thinking that way because as soon as we go out that door, we’re sticking together, and we’re going to be in close quarters. Vincent told both of them.

Bianca sat back hard in her chair and folded her arms. Her jaw was clenched, and she avoided looking at Vincent but didn’t face Alegra, either.

When are we leaving? asked Alegra.

Vincent stared ahead in thought, tapping his index finger on the top of the chair as he leaned. He looked at the window, thinking about the world beyond the closed blinds. His mouth scrunched as he pondered a plan until he stood straight, putting his hands in his pockets. We leave in the morning.

Bianca turned to look at Vincent, her mouth slightly agape at the decision. The nightmare had become a reality, and the truth of the situation suddenly fell on her like a heavyweight. Alegra felt it as well. There was no point in arguing. They all knew they couldn’t stay in this house, not with the CDC watching and Alegra’s spots only bound to worsen.

Bianca loosened her folded arms and let her hands fall into her lap as she stared straight ahead, a blank expression on her face. Vincent walked over behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t respond and kept staring straight ahead into nothingness.

Trying to be as calm as she can, Bianca tells Alegra, Why don’t you go to bed, honey. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, and we’re going to have a lot to do in the morning. I want you to try and get some rest.

Alegra only nodded and looked up at her smiling father. She knew it wasn’t a real smile, but for some reason, the attempt to reassure her that everything was going to be all right when she knew it wasn’t seemed to help. At least in some small way, it was comforting that her father was trying to put her mind at ease.

As a senior in high school, she was trying to figure out what life as an adult was going to be like, and though she didn’t even have a car of her own, she had started to think of herself as one. But the comforting smile from her father took her back to a place that she had almost forgotten, where she could tiptoe down the stairs and crawl up into her father’s lap while he watched television on the couch, resting her head against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her, cuddling her into a warm sleep.

Just as Vincent and Bianca heard Alegra close the door to her room, a solitary whoop of a police siren sounded, and suddenly red, blue, and yellow lights began flashing across the closed blinds. Vincent and Bianca instantly rose, both fear and panic immediately filling both of them. Bianca slowly went to the window to see what was going on. She peeked outside and suddenly gave out a loud alarming cry. She turned and looked at Vincent, then with uncontrollable panic in her voice said.

Vincent, that’s a CDC truck!

3

Vincent was silent, crossing his arms. He watched as an accompanying police car and black sedan pulled up in front of the neighbor's house to join the van that they heard pulling up from its siren. Officer Henry stepped out and looked around, catching Vincent’s face peering out from the window. He didn’t make any kind of motion or gesture, merely letting his gaze linger for that split second of acknowledgment, then he turned to the black vehicle as it came to a stop. The Gallo's watched in silence as a woman with pale skin and black hair stepped out of the driver’s side of the vehicle and walked briskly around the front of the car to shake Officer Henry’s hand. Everything about the woman seemed to be in place and with a purpose. She didn’t smile, and though they couldn’t hear anything that was being said, it was clear from Henry’s demeanor that it was strictly professional. She wore slacks and a nice-looking coat, with a black turtleneck sweater underneath.

She let her hands hang by her sides, though her fingers were restless with constant fidgeting. After the formalities with Henry were finished, she headed over to the driver’s side of the CDC van and raised herself up to the window by stepping up on the rail. She then spoke to whoever was inside the van.

It didn’t take long before she lowered herself back down to the ground, and the back doors of the van swung open, letting loose a handful of CDC agents.

They were dressed in traditional yellow hazmat suits, with a clear plastic face shield and two filters for breathing. Vincent counted six altogether, each of them wearing a submachine gun slung by a strap around their shoulders. Heart beating wildly now, Vincent snapped himself out of his daze as he realized what was happening. He herded Bianca away from the window and quickly closed the blinds.

Vince, what’s going on? What are they doing here? whispered Bianca.

Alegra came running back downstairs to check what all the commotion was. Bianca gestured at her to go to the kitchen.

Alegra sat frozen at the table, hands on the surface. She stared at the closed blinds, waiting for agents to bust down their door any second and take them all away to God-knows-where. Stepping into the kitchen, Vincent could see the fear on his daughter's face. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

It’s Brad and Adele. They’re going into their house. Vincent said.

Alegra perked up, simultaneously relieved for herself and terrified for their neighbors. Images flooded her mind of Antonio being handcuffed and dragged through the front door of his house like a rag doll. Even for a sophomore in high school, Antonio was slight, and could never offer any kind of resistance to the kind of people that worked for the CDC Containment Division.

Alegra?  Bianca begged quizzically, as though suddenly, she wondered if her daughter knew more than what she had told them so far. She looked up. Her mother was approaching the table, one hand over her mouth, eyes glistening.

Vincent was crouching next to the table to look Alegra in the face. She sucked in a breath, her emotions getting the best of her. With her sleeve, she wiped away the tears from her cheeks. Vincent placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. Alegra, you need to go back upstairs, honey.

Dad... cried Alegra.

It’ll be okay, honey, Vincent told her.

Alegra stood slowly, looking at her father and then at her mother. When she did, Bianca walked over and held her tightly. The embrace suddenly released a torrent of emotion from them both, and both sobbed loudly.

At first, Alegra had just let her mother grab onto her, but the unexpected emotion took hold of her, and she gripped her mother just as tightly, if not harder. Warm water poured from her and stained the shoulder of her mother’s cardigan, and her knees wobbled under her own weight.

Vincent crossed the room as they cried and slowly and gently put his arms around both. Come on, honey. It’s time to go upstairs. We’ll be okay.

Reluctantly, Alegra let go of her mother, and when she looked up at her face, she saw a woman she had not seen before. Bianca’s eyes were bloodshot, and her cheeks were shiny and wet. She pulled the sleeves of the cardigan down over her hands and tucked the thin sweater tightly around her, still sobbing gently.

Vincent stepped between them and put his hands on Alegra’s arms, squeezing gently. He tilted his head down at her and gave her a look that prodded her politely to do as he asked. Wiping the last bit of tears from her cheek, she moved past her father, avoiding looking at her mother again as she trudged heavily up the steps to her room.

4

Alegra left the light off and sat down by the window as she had done that afternoon, looking down at the chaos that surrounded her friend’s home. All the lights were on in the Dakota home, but the agents had apparently taken their time to close all the blinds after rounding everyone up. They made no attempt to conceal their purpose, coming right in the middle of dinner time for most families, flashing bright lights so that everyone knew they were there. But despite the fanfare, they didn’t seem to want anyone seeing what was going on inside.  A lump formed in Alegra’s throat again as she recalled the stories she had heard from other towns about containment crews. She looked out at the street. Though the flashing lights were bright, she could still make out the street and homes across from their own.

Normally, when an ambulance or police car or firetruck showed up, people would come out of the woodworks to rubberneck and see what was going on. But not for this. There wasn’t a soul on the street, and even though the streets were supposed to be clear, for some reason, they felt even emptier than normal.

She had heard about the armed agents dressed to protect themselves from catching the virus, loaded guns to discourage resistance as they did their job.

The people they took were put into their own hazmat suits, although instead of keeping something out, these suits were designed to keep something in. They were the same color, same design, and other than the handcuffs and lack of machine gun, you could hardly tell them apart from the CDC agents. No one in the Gallo family had ever known anyone personally that had been contained. Certainly, no one in their neighborhood and anyone in their small town that had been contained had been a stranger. The disease in this part of town was unheard of, at least in their lifetimes.

But Alegra knew that the people that got taken were never heard from again. There were no stories of people coming out of quarantine, returning to their old lives. No stories of people contacting friends or relatives, letting them know that they were okay, or how the infected family member was doing. Come to think of it; no one knew what happened to people after they were contained, outside of those that worked at the CDC. And even those employees had to be high up in the organization.

Important, lifelong, dedicated employees. People rumored, though. Some thought that the infected people were put into camps, to live out their days until the disease eventually took its toll. It was so contagious that people assumed anyone sent to the camp with them would also eventually die of the same thing. Others speculated that the government simply didn’t have the money or manpower, or the patience to sit around and wait for the infected to die on their own.

Those conspiracy theorists believed that the people herded into the backs of those CDC vans were simply taken to a secure location, free from security cameras and any wandering hikers, and shot on sight. The bodies were burned and buried, never to be found by accident. Fire was the only way to know for the certainty that the virus was killed. It had started long before Alegra was born, even before Vincent and Bianca were born. Everyone was taught the same thing in history class. According to the history books, the U.S. used to be one of, if not the most powerful nations in the world, until the disease came that is.

No one knew where it originally came from, but there was nothing they could do to stop it. The government tried every antidote and cure they could concoct, but millions of people were lost to the disease. The accounts of the time say those that became infected died a very painful and drawn out death, though it’s been so long that most people have completely forgotten what the disease actually does to you. The government had no other option. The CDC was given new authority, new power, and with no cure, there was only one way they could think of to control the disease: Containment.

If they couldn’t cure the sick or vaccinate the healthy, the only way to stop the spread of the disease was to cut it off where it stood. Like forest rangers setting smaller fires to contain the blazing inferno, anyone found to be infected was taken away, quarantined, cut off from the rest of the population before the damage could be done. Brutal, but effective. The day the containment protocol was enacted, the CDC began to expand its influence. It didn’t take long before funding was siphoned from several other departments and agencies, even the military, and pumped into the CDC’s budget, making it the largest branch of the Federal Government almost overnight. They became the new national police force, solely focused on combating the disease that no one could defeat.

A noise from the Dakota’s house shook Alegra out of her rumination. She stretched her body up and craned her neck, trying to get a good look at the house. Her heart sank as she heard the sound of Mrs. Dakota screaming and crying. She couldn’t yet see anyone, but her imagination filled in the details of the scene inside the house: the armed agents forcing each of them into their own containment suits, struggling to keep them still while they slipped arms and legs and finally heads into the yellow jumpsuits, sealing them up like a body bag. The screams didn’t stop but became slightly muffled eventually, and Alegra knew she was right.

The house went quiet, and figures began exiting the house. The light from the house illuminated the front yard as the door was held open, facilitating the movement of reluctant bodies out of the building. First was the woman with the black hair, who took a few steps out into the yard and turned back to face the house, one hand on her hip, the other holding a previously concealed cell phone to her ear.  She spoke, and Alegra tried to read her lips, but couldn’t make anything out. She was soon followed by a procession of yellow jumpsuits. Everyone’s head and face were covered, so Alegra couldn’t immediately make out who was who, but as they spilled out onto the lawn, it became obvious. The first was tall and sturdy looking, with two CDC agents on either side with firm grips on his arms. Mr. Dakota didn’t appear to be resisting the agents, but at the same time didn’t go along willingly.

The agents made no attempt to be gentle and rushed him along to the back of the truck, where he was shoved up through the open doors and disappeared. One agent stayed on the ground, gun in hand, while the other followed Mr. Dakota into the van. Next in line was clearly Mrs. Dakota. Slighter than the men on either side of her, their grip and force were much reduced from that used on her husband. Her head hung down, body bent