An Ordinary Epidemic Read Free

know she’d had a choice to stop him from going. She had to hold herself back from running after the bus.
    Every kid did this. All the kids went, the teachers would look after them, Zac was safe. She knew that. She told herself that. But still Hannah felt she had failed him.
    It was too late now. It was done.

    The cold nip of the car door handle took her by surprise. She glanced at the clock, seven thirty, even though the bus was supposed to leave by seven. Still enough time to get home and get Oscar ready. As much out of habit as anything, she turned on the radio for the news. She felt jumpy, maybe just eager to get home.
    There was more traffic on the road now. As she passed Oscar’s school, kids were already arriving. A harried-looking father dropped two small girls at the gate of the before-school care centre.
    The voice from the radio pushed itself to the front of her attention. ‘...organisers believe they have now identified all attendees. However, a small number have still not been located. The World Health Organisation has offered assistance to any government whose citizens attended the conference...’
    The wind had picked up a little, and the kids looked like small blue and white bundles with their arms wrapped around themselves.
    â€˜...on farms all over Britain, thousands of animals have already been put down. Protestors gathered in London are claiming that the cull will do nothing to reduce the spread of Manba without a significant drive to identify wild animal vectors. Wide-scale testing of non-domestic animals in the Manchester area has begun...’
    Gwen had asked her yesterday if their cat caught birds. She’d explained that Mr Moon certainly recognised birds as a source of food, in much the same way you might consider a stuffed zucchini flower but if it didn’t come out of a can, it wasn’t worth his effort. Gwen had looked unconvinced. Hannah hadn’t bothered to point out that Manba wasn’t bird flu and she should worry instead about whether Mr Moon caught bats.
    â€˜...reports that airport employees are refusing to unload passengers from a plane originating in Bangkok. A short time ago, the Minister for Immigration said a decision would be made soon on whether the passengers will be allowed to enter the country. In the meantime the plane is being supplied with food and water...’
    She thought of all those people returning from holidays. So close to being home after such a long flight, but still stuck in a metal tube. Imagine being sent back to a forced vacation in a disease zone. Well, at least it wasn’t summer so the plane wouldn’t heat up too fast as it sat.
    â€˜...is advising anyone planning overseas travel to postpone their journey. People who must travel are advised to stay away from areas where large groups congregate, including tourist attractions and conferences...’
    No one she knew would get sick, she had to believe that. The outbreaks overseas would die out. And everyone would complain about panicky scientists, who would insist that we still needed to be prepared for next time. And that would be it.
    Or it wouldn’t.
    And she was prepared. Except that in three hours Zac would be three hours away and she had no control over Newcastle Hospital, airport security, government policy or viruses.
    The news continued—a story about a film star, sport and weather. She switched it off. Zac had left. Nothing on the news made that look like a good idea.
    She turned the car onto the paved area in front of their house. She liked the way the house’s facade spanned the property, presenting a united front with Gwen’s half of the semi. Its thick front door deadened the sound from the street. Even the side passage between their house and Natalie and Stuart’s was barred by a tall wooden gate. An unbroken barrier to keep out noise, dust, draft, people and germs.
    The solidarity was broken only by the paint. Heritage huesof