Danica kept a radio tuned to the news channel as she worked that morning. Storm-related blackouts had spread to Kansas and Louisiana. In Arkansas, a particularly severe storm had damaged the atomic power plant at Fouke, but army units had secured it and there was no radiation leak. The manhunt for Andrew Freeman and Lloyd Henreid had ended in Arizona with three more dead, including Freeman.
Shortly before 11 AM, Danica was expecting a call from Acme Food Service Supplies but when the phone rang she thought Bryce! She picked up and immediately heard a sneeze.
"Bryce?"
"Bryce is with me — Eddie . . . " A volley of wet booming coughs, then: "Warfield here. Ms. Parsons, I don't care how many customers you have, or who you might be catering to, you are to have both Twin Cities stores closed and secure in one hour."
"I take it there are more than storms where you are."
"It's stormy . . . with disease. If the media aren't telling you . . . " More coughs.
"They're still covering up," Bryce interjected hoarsely. "Arnette's dead, Braintree's dying and as far as we've been told this plague has spread at least a hundred miles."
"Nothing about sickness in the news. But I contacted the only two of our Texas stores online and a cold's going . . . "
"Not a cold!" Warfield barked. "Much much worse!"
Then came the sound of an engine being gunned and, "You see that, Bryce!"
"Hold on, Dani," Bryce said excitedly. "Might be more news in a bit!"
The engine raced and the growl of another engine, a diesel, became audible. A horn sounded. Then both engines went to idle and Danica sensed that the vehicles had stopped. The sound of slamming doors confirmed it.
Faint with distance, a shout from Bryce: "Erin! Thank God." His voice was as hoarse as ever, but jubilant.
"Last surviving member of her family," Warfield said. "And the soldier with her may be the last man standing in his unit. We'll talk later. For now, get on with closing down. Out."
For many seconds Danica sat slumped, feeling thunderstruck. Then she rose and left the office. She could see customers — mostly business folk at this time of morning — eating and chatting contentedly. Her ears picked up the usual kitchen sounds — hustling footfalls, bubbling of fry vats, crinkling of food being wrapped. Her eyes became watery and the corners of her mouth turned down with the awareness that what she was seeing and hearing would soon be no more, on account of a distant but coming horror which the two good men she'd just conversed with were in the thick of.
She raised her chin and prepared to make the announcement as calmly as she could.