**Frankenstein, Aimee Mann**

The edge of the bed sagged as Riley struggled to get her feet under her. After waking a few minutes ago, she'd tried to convince herself to go back to sleep, but the chill air and her nagging need to pee had gotten the best of her efforts. She repressed a groan as the twins settled themselves more comfortably on her bladder.

"Just a few days. You can make it a few days Betty." she reminded herself.

A sleepy voice interrupted her thoughts. "Do you need any help?" The duvet slid down and a thin sliver of spiky blond hair appeared at the edge. "Damn it's cold in here. I take it back. I'm not getting up until it's at least 10 degrees warmer."

He hadn't come home until nearly 2200 last night and she knew Green was expecting him to be ready to go again at 0800 so she just waved him off. Besides, ever since they 'd reunited after his Midwest trip and her move from Chicago, he hadn't been sleeping well. "I have been peeing by myself for almost 18 years. I think I can manage now."

His voice was muffled by the duvet and the door she shut between them. "OK, but if you change your mind..."

She waited until she was getting back in bed, snuggling her cold toes on his calves and wiggling to get comfortable again. "That's gross Garth, really. I can't believe you'd even suggest that."

One strong arm wrapped around her middle. Well, halfway around her middle since it was such a gargantuan size, and pulled her back against him. "Betty, If you were knee deep in a latrine I still wouldn't take my eyes off of you. You're breathtaking, don't you know that?"

She snorted. "You're messed up in the head Garth, but I love you anyway."

"Mmm, I know." He spread his hand wider on her belly. "Someone is very active under here."

"Yeah, they like to do cartwheels in the middle of the night. I'm totally going to miss this feeling after next week."

"You don't think we'll have any more?" His tone was light, but his hand stilled.

"Ask me again once I've survived this birth. I'm afraid we'll both be messed in the head after this." She placed her hand over his and squeezed.

He sighed. "I know my reassurance means nothing, but it will be OK. And I'll be right there with you. I promise, nothing bad will happen."

She sniffed. "That's easy for you to say. You're not getting sliced open while lying on a table wide awake!"

He pulled her fractionally closer. "I know. Do you want your mom to go in with you instead of me? Would that help you feel better? Or maybe we can try to talk the doctor into letting you have two people. We didn't push very hard with the two babies, two attendants strategy."

She pulled the covers tighter. "No, I'm going to be scared out of my mind no matter what. Before the Red Flu, there was no one other than my mom I would have wanted with me. But now, it's you or no one."

He hugged her a little tighter and she turned her head just far enough to place a soft kiss on the soft underside of his arm where her ear had been resting. Soon his breathing evened out into a steady shushing. She detangled her fingers from his and smoothed her hand over the twins. She liked to imagine that they could sense her hand, almost like a ripple of wind in their sky, and would know she was here, hugging them with her whole body. She wondered how old she'd been when hugs from her mom had lost the ability to envelop her in their own world of safety. And which had she lost first, the sense that her mom could take on the world or her physical sense of melting into her arms? It didn't seem like it was very long ago.

Garth twitched and muttered some thing about fifty foot perimeters. So it was going to be that one tonight. She sighed and carefully extracted herself from his arms. Might as well sit up and put on some headphones. This one involved a lot of talking. She tipped her head back, her favorite nightime playlist soothing her with the sound of Pharell's smooth Happy. As had become her habit these last few months, she laid one hand over the twins and another on Garth's bare shoulder, rhythmically circling each in a slow pattern meant to soothe all four of them back to sleep.

The dim light spilling in through the hotel window caught her wedding band and made its dull luster shine brighter than the darkened surroundings. Had it only been eight months since they met? She closed her eyes and remembered. Everything had been so chaotic then. She'd come home from the gymnasium on the second day of summer training camp to find her mother in the garage loading the van with essentials. Everyone had been talking about the outbreak at camp but no one was worried. It was something happening far away, to other people, not home in Virginia. But even though her mother had tried to claim it was just to convince her brother that she was serious about their 4th of July camping trip, that had been her first moment of fear. In less than two weeks they had lost her brother and rioting had made Norfolk almost unlivable. For all her earlier preparations, her mother had resisted evacuating when the base closed. Major Velasquez had ended up telling her that Emma and Riley would be put on a bus and taken to the safe zone without her on the grounds that she was endangering minors. That had gotten her angry enough to make the drive to Deep Park, if only to be able to rail at him some more about how she wouldn't ever be parted from her kids.

For the first few days in the safe zone, most everyone just sat in their tents in shock. Emma was the only one of the three of them that seemed to have any hope and she flitted from tent to tent, checking in on families they knew and asking newcomers for news from outside. Even mealtimes under the big green army tent were quiet and solemn affairs. As new families arrived and the spaces between groups filled in, they began to get put together the pieces of what was happening outside. People sat in small groups and spoke in hushed voices about which governments they thought had perpetrated the virus or why they were chosen for a spot in the safe zone over the thousands of other families who showed up at the gates and were turned away everyday.

On the third day after they arrived, Riley woke up angry. She was fed up with sitting still, fed up with waiting in fear for the day when someone would bring the Red Flu into their camp. She went to breakfast as usual and as she hunched over her powdered eggs, she let her anger coalesce into a plan. If this was really happening, then they were truly in a fight for their lives. She couldn't believe it had taken 8 days since the death of her brother to figure that out.

At the thought of Lucas, her heart clenched. Lucas, the fun loving mini version of her father was gone. They hadn't even had a real funeral for him. One minute her mother had a call from his school that they were taking him to the emergency room for a high fever, and a few hours later he was quarantined. She and Emma had been home, expecting their mother to call and say he would be fine with some meds and rest when some Navy guys in space suits showed up to quarantine them. It had been terrifying, having strangers come in and insist they had to submit blood samples. By the time their mother came home the next morning, they had been cleared and her brother;'s body had been taken for disposal. Disposal, as if you could simply erase eleven years of love just like that. She wouldn't let her grief cow her though. She wasn't going to sit here, moping over a bowl of sickly sweet instant oatmeal. She'd been lucky enough to live and to get into this safe zone.

"Don't worry Lucas. I'll get it together."

"Did you say something?" A man stopped as he passed behind her. He was tall, so tall she really could only see his tan webbed belt and the Styrofoam bowl he was holding when she half turned from the picnic table.

"Ah sorry." She leaned back trying to see his face. Her eyes traveled up a long muscled torso, wrapped in a faded green tee, past a chiseled jaw, full red lips, and a nose that was currently sporting a red mark on the bridge, to meet his hazel eyes. Even with the dark circles of fatigue, and possibly the yellowish-purple tinge of a healing black eye, he was easily the handsomest man she'd ever seen in person. She scrambled for something to say. "Uh, better polish that buckle before your C.O. sees you soldier."

He swung a leg over the bench next to her. "Gee kid, I think he's a bit too busy saving people's lives to haul us in for an inspection. But thanks, I'll make sure to get right on that."

She sat up to her full five foot two inches. "I'm not a kid."

He looked down from at least a foot over her shoulder. "You're right, you're just travel sized."

That was the last straw. "For your information I am 17. And you're not that tall. My Dad is both taller and bigger than you. And he's an O5 so that makes him like 16 steps ahead of you. " So there! She turned back to her oatmeal.

"Well then, for your information I am 20. My dad is very likely older than yours and a mean S.O.B to boot. And the only place an O5 is 15 steps ahead of an E4 is the Navy so I'm not too worried. Can you imagine how fast the flu tore through those ships?"

His face froze the minute he said it and for a few seconds she just stared at him, open mouthed. So he was an asshole too. "Take your breakfast and get away from me, right now." She hadn't known her voice could sound like that, half wounded animal, half angry bear.

"I'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean to... I shouldn't have said that. It was..."

"I swear to God. I don't know who the fuck you think you are but if you don't leave my vicinity in the next five seconds I will make you regret you were ever born." She stared him down. "1...2..."

"Ok, Ok!" He stood, holding his hands up. "I can see I've made you upset."

She wanted to yell that it wasn't true but she'd already decided that it was foolish to hope. Her dad was either already dead, or likely to be dead very soon. She should accept it. it was easier if she did. Still, a lump formed in her throat and she knew she was on the verge of exploding. "..3.."

"I'm going. You can stop counting." He picked up his oatmeal and turned to the table behind her.

"Farther." She didn't want to see him, or hear him, or know that such an odious person existed.

"Alright fine!" he slammed his oatmeal down on the table and stomped away down the aisle. "I'm so sorry to ruin your breakfast with reality!"

She knew it was wrong, but she enjoyed watching the muscles of his back flex as he stormed away. Too bad he was such an ass because he was certainly easy on the eyes.

That afternoon she had finally found something to distract her from her grief. A young Private Chan came to ask her mother to volunteer to help with intake into the camp. He explained that the Army troops had been working for three days straight and they needed more hands so they could rotate off duty and get some rest. Given her mother's background as an airline agent, he thought she might be able to help them get organized in handling so many people efficiently. Riley went in to explain it to her mother. She was lying curled up on a blanket against the wall of their tent and the only response she gave was a grunt.

"Mom, did you hear me? The survival of the rest of the family might depend on securing the front gates. They really need your help and you need something to get you busy. Come on. Get up. I'll go with you and help."

Her mother gathered the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I'm not ready. Just, you go and do your best. You're a smart girl ." It was like she'd forgotten that she had two daughters still living who needed her.

Returning to the alley between tents she informed Private Chan that "She's not fit to go anywhere. I'll do it."

He raised a doubtful brow. "With all do respect Miss. We're looking for someone a little more experienced for this job."

"With all do respect Private," she pulled herself rigid as if she was about to flag the judges for a vault routine. "it sounds like you aren't in any position to turn down an offer for help. Show me around the intake area and if you don't like my ideas, you can fire me and get someone else."

He glanced toward the front gate where the intake area was located "Fine." His shoulders slumped as he gestured toward a hastily set up tent. "We need to get a handle on things ASAP. Major Velasquez is expecting three buses down from Annapolis any minute now and we've already had to quietly diffuse several near riot situations. She fell into step behind him. Annapolis? Maybe someone int he group would be Navy. Maybe someone would know how to get in touch with her father.

The safe zone consisted of a large tent city at the local high school. People requesting admittance were currently being screened in the parking lot and then led around to the back where families or roommates were assigned to tents set up on the athletic fields. When Riley had come in three days before it had been the middle of the night. There had been a finger prick blood test and then a terrifying wait for the results, surrounded by men in biohazard suits, some carrying guns. Once they had results they had been pointed to another tent. While they were there a family had been partially rejected. The father had insisted that he and all his sons should be let in. One of the guards had finally asked him if he wanted the one child who was cleared to enter to have the best chance to live. Riley's mother had started bawling along with the father as he suddenly backed away from the boy while simultaneously telling him it was because he loved him that he was leaving. Riley had been afraid that they would be similarly broken apart, but since the school had brought Lucas to the hospital, none of them had actually had contact with the flu and they tested clean.

Chan led her to a neighboring tent with a suited guard at the door. "Get yourself a suit and then I'll walk you through the system"

They didn't talk as they suited up There was a pile of used tyvek suits on one table and just a few new ones in shrink wrap packaging on the other. For once she was glad that she was so short because all of the remaining new packages were size extra small. She quickly put one on and selected the cleanest looking head gear from a pile at another table. The smell of bleach hit her the minute she lowered it over her head. She grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and tugged them on while reading a dirty and frayed copy of a CDC brochure about how to tape the cuffs of the suit. There was no tape so she pulled on a second pair of gloves right up over her cuffs. Chan shrugged, it would have to do.

She wasn't sure if it was the balmy June night air or the idea that this thin and papery suit was all that stood between her and people who most likely had been in contact with the virus, but she immediately began to sweat. What the heck was she doing? She had taken AP biology. The safest thing to do was undoubtedly to stay as far away from everyone as possible and minimize her contact with new comers. But she kept thinking about that little boy, crying for his daddy as a guy carrying a gun carted him away to wherever they were corralling kids in this mess of tents. What if things had been different and her brother had been the survivor instead of the rest of them? She squared her shoulders and followed Chan without complaint. Her father was always saying that she was too sensitive and needed to toughen up. Well, when he found them he was going to find out who had gotten her feet back under her and made a difference first.

There wasn't much to learn. They were still doing intake the same way as they had when she came in. In the 10 minutes she was in the welcome tent, only 1 person was admitted to the camp. Three families were turned away, one without even being given a blood test as they showed visual signs of illness.

"It seems harsh but we can't risk letting someone in who is sick so if there is even the slightest doubt of their wellness, we have to exclude them. We're handing out these instructions for how they can stay isolated and come back to try to get in another day." Chan's voice was deep and muffled by the hood on his suit. "So far, we haven't had many repeat customers." He led her to a table covered with cleaning materials. "I'm going to start you on cleaning. Everyone who comes in gets their hands bleached, just in case they touched something contaminated in the tent. Everything on this side of the locker rooms is considered contaminated. Then they go into that line over there." he pointed to where a number of shell shocked people were waiting outside a door to the high school gym. "They go in for a shower, a first meal, and assignment for meal times and so on." She remembered that. After days of no water the shower had been very welcome, as had the food. But the first day had been a daze of getting situated.

"So I just spray their hands and point out where to go?"

"That's it." Chan confirmed. "Maybe warn the kids not to touch their eyes until they rinse in the shower and try to help people calm down? We try to rush them out of the tent as quick as we can to prevent problems, but by the time they land here they're already a little worked up." As they were standing there a little boy, who was waiting in line to be admitted to the gym, started wandering toward the tents that could be seen on the other side of the parking lot. "Crap, we keep having them get out of line here! You got this?" At her nod he went jogging off toward the kid.

Riley spent the afternoon doing her best to reassure people. She pulled out her biggest smile for the worried adults, got down at eye level with the kids, and tried to crack a few jokes here and there to diffuse the tension. But the people coming in rarely responded, most of the kids were crying whether they were with parents or not, and by the time someone came to relive her a few hours before dinner, she was feeling totally demoralized. She stood with her arms out while the next volunteer sprayed her suit with bleach and pointed toward a rope strung between the back corner of the tent and one of the metal poles holding up the portico at the front of the school.

A canvas banner, proclaiming this school Home of the Stag Stampede, blocked her path and she was funneled from the sidewalk to the apron of concrete that made a patio for students to congregate. There were several similar banners all along the portico forcing everyone who wanted to approach the school doors to go back around to the sidewalk and enter straight on. Stepping from the bright sunshine of the sidewalk to the shade of the portico was a huge relief. It kind of made her think of Disney World, the way the flow of people was controlled and she wondered if the school had set it up that way on purpose. This must have been a busy area before the Red Flu hit.

Someone had written the instructions for removing protective gear on the front window of the school but condensation from the evening humidity had caused the words to drip. She reached for the zipper on her suit when a muffled man's voice called out "Not like that!" A tall guy in a suit had come into the chute behind her and now shook his head and pointed toward the sign. "You have to be very careful that you don't self contaminate." She squinted at the window. That was what she was trying to do!

"Well I had no instructions so I was doing my best."

"Hold on Mrs. Slattery and you can copy me.. Dammit Chan should have gone over this with you." He held up his hands in front of him. "The order is booties, gloves, suit, hood, gloves."

She gave him a thumbs up. "Got it."

"You sure? Because if there is any suspicion we have to put you in the sub-quarentine area..and I haven't been given a procedure to let anyone out of there yet." He jerked a finger toward a small grouping of tents near the opposite side from the main tent city. A fence separated the area and two men with M-16's manned the gate area.

"I'll copy you."

She caught a reflection in the large glass windows on either side of the door and hardly recognized herself. No wonder kids were crying when they came into the camp, they were faced with alien looking people in space suits. The man stripped off his first layer of gloves and booties. Then he unzipped the Tyvek suit and pushed it down to his waist. After spending most of the day looking through a dirty visor at people in the suits, which reminded her of footie jammies, the revelation of a firm male body was mouthwatering. For goodness sakes Riley! This is not the time and place she reminded herself. After he shucked the bottom layer of his suit, the tall man arranged his suit on the line and removed his helm. She was surprised to see the cranky guy from the mess tent. Corporal Simpson. she recalled.

She unzipped her suit and carefully stripped it off. Hanging it over one of the canvas banners she began inspecting for rips. Chan had said that if there was any reason to doubt its integrity, she would have to go back through the admission procedure and could be expelled from the camp. Fortunately her suit was fine. She carefully removed her hood and placed it on a fence post. There were six of them already drying and it made her think of a scene from a movie where a medieval villain had stuck heads on pikes outside his gate as a warning to rebellious serfs. She was about to hook her finger in the roll of rubber at her wrist when a large hand stopped her.

He held out an arm. "Do it like this." She copied the way he flexed his wrist and couldn't help but notice how muscular his forearms were. "Now carefully catch that little air pocked with your other hand and roll it forward on itself." She copied his motion and rolled the glove down to her fingertips. "Now do the same but roll the second glove over the first so you only ever touch the insides." She followed him to a second trash can where he deposited his used gloves and then offered her a dollop of hand sanitizer. "Think you can manage next time or should I put you on laundry duty? Maybe you can collect and polish all our belt buckles?"

He blushed as soon as he said it and she fought back another giggle. So Mr. E4 thought he could make jokes now, huh. "I think I've got it. I have some other questions about procedure though. Chan wanted my mother to help reduce the issues at intake. But she's not up for it. But as I was helping today I saw plenty of issues for improvement."

He crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Chan reports to me. So yeah, I know she can't do it. But you think you know how to improve upon the procedures, our Major, a man with over 15 years experience, put into place?"

She stiffened. There he went again with the attempts to pull rank. "For your information I have exactly the kind of experience you need." She meant that in more ways than one but she had a feeling Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass wouldn't take the joke if she said so out loud. " I think I can offer suggestions for challenges that your Major, whoever he is, hasn't had time to work on because he had to set this place up and move on so quickly. I helped my school host a national cheerleading competition last year and we even won an award for it."

He rolled his eyes and began walking toward the sidewalk the skirted the building. "Cheerleading? Seriously."

She tagged after. She practically had to take two steps for every one of his. God, what was it with these young guys, put in charge of something for the first time in their lives, that always thought they were the only ones who could know anything? "Yes, we had 5000 people in and out of three gyms. We organized parking, concessions, souvenirs, hotels, and awards." She smirked. "And on top of that we won best in show in the senior grouping."

He threw up his hands with a huff. "Fine. I have thirty minutes for dinner and then I have to make rounds of the tent groupings. You can regale me with your silly plans through then."

She drew a deep breath and launched into her comments before he had a chance to stop her. "You need to use what you have more effectively. Why aren't we using the building?"

"It's public property. We didn't get permission from the city council to use any more than the 1st floor bathrooms that can be accessed from the locker room. And, well, there's no city council left to ask."

She shook her head. "Well, we're under martial law aren't we. If Major Velasquez is the highest authority we can ask, then get him to authorize it."

Garth snorted. "Good luck. He doesn't bend the rules, ever."

"Well you'll just have to convince him that it is not only within the rule of law but also the right thing to do. #1 is easy. Martial law lets him use public property for the safety and welfare of the public. That's the very nature of what we're doing here. Besides, as you so helpfully pointed out the other day, society as we know it is in free fall. There will be plenty of capacity for high school students even if this building is no longer usable when we are done."

"You are awfully cold hearted for such a young woman." They rounded the corner of the building and headed for the food tent setup near the football field house to take advantage of it's water and restrooms.

"On the contrary. I am not insulting your obvious intelligence by sugar coating what we both know is the harsh reality of the situation."

As soon as they got in line a young woman with the shield insignia of a specialist approached. "Simpson, I need a word."

He muttered something under his breath before turning to Riley. "Grab me something and I'll catch up to you in a few minutes. Oh, and get a lot of water. Those suits are very dehydrating." As he stepped out of line with the woman Riley sized her up. Although her hair was perfectly done, her dark roots were showing a few weeks of growth and her uniform was rumpled as if she had worn the same one for many days straight. Riley glanced down at her own shorts and tee. They weren't looking too hot either. As she grabbed a tray and and began piling on items she added laundry facilities to another need of the camp. A few minutes later Garth joined her at the end of a long table. "I managed to snag a 10 and a 4, which do you want?"

"No contest, the 10 every time." His appreciative smile changed his entire face and suddenly didn't seem half as imposing as before.

"Suit yourself." She tossed him a bag and he easily caught it in one big hand. "I bet you'd make a great volleyball player. My sister plays and she has those kind of reflexes."

He looked askance. "Usually people say I'd make a good volleyball player because of my height."

"I know better than to judge based on that. My dad is super tall and he's terrible at it, but I'm not bad and I can barely see the bottom of the net."

"You play volleyball?" His plastic fork looked tiny in his hand as he took a bite.

Riley shook her head while she poked around for something she could actually recognize as a vegetable. "No, but I can jump. I'm a gymnast."

He scanned her from top to bottom. "I can see that. You're very fit." She supposed that was a fair assessment, although honestly she would have liked it more if he'd said she looked good or she had a hot ass or something. She chided herself for her vanity.

The vegetarian taco tasted mostly like Tabasco flavored sawdust to her and she wrinkled her nose. But her stomach betrayed her by growling so she returned for another bite anyway. "Let's get to business. If you took advantage of the school building I think you could greatly increase the safety of the camp. I saw three major problems today 1) There is a huge risk of cross contamination from people coming in because there isn't a place to isolate them for a brief entry quarantine. 2) The intake process has no privacy so the gut wrenching emotional dramas are playing out in front of everyone, really raising the tension for the people in line and the workers. And 3) right now if the virus gets in, we're all done for, Game Over, KO, The End."

He had been shoveling in food so fast that she wasn't sure he was listening and he made her wait while he chewed the last bite. Finally setting down his fork he sat back and nodded. "I'm not going to argue that those are problems. But how is possibly breaking the law and commandeering an entire building going to solve any of them?"

She flattened her napkin on the table and without thinking grabbed the pen she could see in his breast pocket. She began sketching the building. "OK, bear with me here, I'm no artist. But you've got this building so you ought to take advantage of it." She began drawing dotted lines to divide up the diagram. "If you moved the fences..."

"Stop right there." He leaned over the paper and their shoulders touched. "You just drew a fence through the building. We don't have a way to close off different parts of the building."

She snorted and tapped the red badge on his sleeve with a pen. "We're not talking a floating bridge here. You're the engineer. I'm sure you can figure it out."

"Well yeah but we're already on the premise that I'll use the building.."

It was her turn to interrupt. "Do you want us all to die or live? Huh? 'Cause I'm trying to help us stay alive here and you are just putting up road blocks everywhere." She sat back on the bench, crossing her arms and staring him down. He stared back for a minute.

Finally he sighed and shook his head. "Fine, draw on."

"Ok, the school has several spaces that ought to work for us. We need to separate the in and out lines so we cordon off the front lobby area. People come in, they go through a few rooms during the testing process, then those who are being admitted go one way, through an easily defended hallway, toward the locker rooms. Those that are not exit through the gift shop. We give them a few meals, water, and advise them to isolate themselves from other people before we send them out."

"We can't send them away with food." Incredulous, she looked up from her diagram and met his hazel eyes.

"Are you seriously that heartless? These people are dying. The least we can do is offer them some compassion."

He rolled his eyes. "Keep your voice down." He ducked his head closer to hers. "Are you seriously that naive? Sure, it's a nice thought and all but number 1," He stabbed the table with his finger. "We can't spare the food in the first place and number 2, what if they don't eat the meal and someone else takes it and gets infected from it? Right now I'm saving my compassion for the survivors."

She blinked at him for s few seconds. She hadn't thought about that. He was right. Shit! This whole thing was just so impossible. She felt a sudden urge to cry. No, No, No! She told herself. This isn't hopeless. It simply cannot be. She bit her lip, refusing to cry in front of him.

His voice was softer, more gentle, and when she met his eyes this time there was a sense of pleading to his expression as if the very same pit of despair had opening up inside of him like it had her. "Go on though, we can work out how to deal with the groups later. Tell me the rest of your plan."