At 8:30 PM that June 18, Margot's husband Leon Banner came home with a monster headache and a streaming nose. He'd been on a supervisor's shift at the abattoir that was supposed to end at midnight, but was feeling so ill that he'd asked his deputy to hold the fort in his stead.
Leon wasn't sure about hosting houseguests at the same time that his house was sick (except for Erin, who remained symptom-free.) The Roanwood Motor Inn had vacancies, he said, and he knew the proprietor. He was about to phone the fellow when someone knocked hard on the entrance.
On opening the door, Leon (with Bryce and Eddie close by) faced a sergeant, a corporal and two privates, all wearing army camouflage . . . and respirators. This anthrax was more pesky than expected, the sergeant said, and a minor flu bug ("which is what you guys seem to have") was also around. The quarantine zone had been extended to put Braintree and its surroundings under the dome. Everyone was to shelter in place unless absolutely necessary. A special anthrax ward had been set up at the hospital and people could go there if seriously ill — black sores, breathing trouble and high fever all at once.
Then the soldiers left. As they were about to enter their Humvee, the sergeant doubled over with a volley of sneezes.
"I'm going to bed," Leon said. "This flu is a killer. If you two want the tower, it's yours."
"Deal," Eddie said. "Th . . ." He coughed, catching phlegm in his hand.
"Thanks," Bryce said, feeling a tickle in his own throat.