Bryce and Eddie saw no more ambulances on their way to Braintree, but once in town they had to pull over twice before arriving at the HFS restaurant. Its main entrance was locked and a CLOSED sign was on display. The neighboring Burger King was open but not looking busy. On the other hand, a Walgreens pharmacy across the street looked very busy.

Lights were still on inside the HFS, and a full-size Buick was parked in the employees' area close by the rear door. "That's Margot's," Eddie said. "Margot Banner. She's the gal you may have heard me talking to at the office."

Eddie and Bryce went to the door. It was locked but Eddie had come prepared for its cardlock system. With one swipe the lock clicked free.

The door opened only twenty to thirty degrees before bumping against a soft heavy object inside. A woman moaned.

"Margot," called Eddie as a near shout (his emergency calmness was there, if a little frayed). "Can you move?" He tried to squeeze through the gap but couldn't.

"Let me," Bryce said. He was much slimmer than Eddie and stepped through with little trouble. He looked at Margot and saw much trouble.

She lay on her side, moaning and slobbering and streaming mucus from her nose at a much more rapid rate than Bryce had ever seen or thought possible — and he had seen plenty of runny noses, both in himself and in other people. He didn't have to touch her to know that she had a high fever — she was a human radiator.

Bryce felt a little rubbery as he knelt beside her. Margot's face was bright, but in a way that Bryce would have thought unhealthy even without a fever or other symptoms. She looked at Bryce much the same way his dying mother had over her final days.

"Margot, we're here to help but please help yourself if you can. Can you move?"

"No . . . strength."

"Try anyway. I'll help." He put his hands under her shoulders. She felt almost blistering hot. "We need to get the door open more so Eddie can get in."

Margot moved her legs weakly and Bryce pulled her shoulders. She had to weigh at least 180 pounds. Suddenly she let out a volley of racking, booming coughs which splattered the floor and Bryce's arms with gobs of heavy, hot phlegm. Bryce grimaced.

Finally Eddie was able to squeeze through. He said, "Bryce, ever work fast food?"

"Yes." In his teens he'd worked at a Denny's — 24 and even 36-hour days on occasion, part of the family's attempt to feed the elephant in the house, said elephant being the size of the file folder holding bills from his mother's dying days.

"Then go to the kitchen and make sure everything's safe," Eddie said. "Come back with water, ice, wet cloths and towels."

In the kitchen, Bryce found a fry vat that was on. He switched it off, then rushed to the nearest sink and washed. His arms felt like he'd dipped them in a vessel of slimy, decaying slugs. An hour of washing might not be enough to get all traces of infectious phlegm off.

"Bryce, you okay?"

"Coming!" Bryce toweled himself, selected a large paper cup that normally was for coffee, and scooped in half a cup of ice. Then he filled it with water and took it to Margot.

She was sweating with incredible profusion. Rivulets flowed. The air around her felt exceedingly warm and humid, and Bryce thought he saw a few faint wisps of steam rise. He passed the cup to Eddie, who gently pressed it to Margot's cracked lips.

"Back with fabrics," Bryce said. He returned to the kitchen, found its linen closet, and selected some of its contents.

When he came back, Margot was sitting up and holding the cup in both hands. She was less like a radiator; her fever was ebbing. She drank more water, then looked at the two men.

"Thank you both," she said "That was the worst sickness I've ever had."

"What about the others?" Eddie asked as Bryce began to pat Margot's forehead with a cloth.

"They started getting fevers one after another. George was 105 and I called an ambulance for him. Two others were just under 104 and they went home. The fever hit me like from a thrown switch and I sent everyone else home."

"Good thinking. Now let's get you home."

"There I just might sleep the clock around."

Eddie wandered and made sure that the restaurant was fit to be shut down. Then the three of them went outside. Although Margot was strong enough to help secure the premises, she was tired.

"You're not driving," Eddie said. "Let Bryce drive." He looked at Bryce and said, "I know where Margot lives. Just follow me."

The two cars left the HFS lot and headed south — closer to Arnette, Bryce knew. Their route took them past Braintree Medical Center. Margot's eyes widened as she saw the crowd and the two big tents.

"Look at that, Bryce. Outdoor triage."

"Yeah." The tents and crowd worried Bryce but what worried him even more were the soldiers, two squads' worth, in their camouflage uniforms. All of them were wearing respirators.

Bryce guessed that the quarantine zone would include Braintree very soon, or perhaps already.