Curse of the Immune Read Free Page B

like it’s coming up from all the drains. How is that possible?”
    “Stink pipes,” Roger says.
    “What?” I ask.
    Roger looks uncomfortable as he tries to shift toward me. “I don’t know the proper name, but those small tubes that stick through the roofs of every house, I call them stink pipes. They’re there to allow toxic gases out from the drainage system. It’s the only way I can think of.”
    “But why is there so much? There’s only about an inch piled up outside. How could such a concentrated amount happen to make it through such a small opening?” I ask.
    “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe it’s attracted to water.”
    “Or maybe to people,” Luke said.
    “I don’t think anything would surprise me after yesterday and today.” My stomach twists at the thought of what else might be in store for us. I want to change the subject, as if that’s possible. I look at the television and notice it’s been turned off. “Any new news on TV?”
    “It’s all bad, sis, nothing positive,” Luke says.
    “I didn’t think they’d be reporting on the five-day weather forecast. Put it on.” I think the added noise will be a good distraction.
    Big mistake.
    “Okay, but I warned you.” Luke presses the remote.
    A sick-looking man sits behind a news desk. “The virus is now worldwide, and reports of massive fatalities from around the world, except North America, are coming in. Government officials are ordering all federal, state, and local emergency response personnel to merge with various military organizations and prepare to be deployed where needed.
    “Drone flyovers of areas in Europe and Asia where reports of the populations are said to be completely wiped out show crowded streets of seemingly confused and lost people. Attempts to contact the areas’ local officials or even news agencies have failed, and new hope that the virus may not be as severe and deadly as previously thought grips the US and Canada.”
    “See, it’s not that bad,” Luke says.
    The scene on television shows an area in London, England, of people wandering the streets lazily and clumsily bumping into each other. Close-ups show their eyes give off an eerie, orangey glow much like the mysterious dust. Their mouths are hanging open as well, as if they no longer have use of their facial muscles. It all looks real creepy.
    Suddenly, a dog runs through the crowd. A person tackles it and looks like it’s biting the animal. Other people joined in and tear apart the poor beast.
    “What the heck are they doing?” I ask. I look at my brother, and his expression of horror sends feelings of terror through me.
    “Zombies,” Luke said. “That’s what they do. Feed on the living.” And he should know. Playing and watching zombie video games and movies were his favorite pastime before he met Chloe. I always thought that kind of stuff was just sick, morbid, and stupid. I refused to watch those kinds of movies. I was afraid they’d give me nightmares.
    “That’s crazy,” I say. “That zombie crap isn’t real.” It can’t be. I turn off the TV and try to get those images I just saw out of my head. Roger and Ellen are what I need to be focusing on. That’s what’s important right now.
    I go into the kitchen, figuring I should make some tea. Ellen always made tea with honey whenever we got sick. It makes sense I do the same for her and Roger. I take the teakettle, fill it with water, and put it on the stove.
    I notice Luke behind me. “What?” I ask.
    “Listen, sis, I don’t want to piss you off or nothing, but—”
    “But you’re gonna anyway.”
    “Yeah, well, at least hear me out first.”
    “Fine, then talk.” I fold my arms and lean against the stove and put on my best ‘don’t screw with me’ look on.
    “I can’t get ahold of Chloe. You know I have to make sure she’s safe.” Luke looks pathetic, by design, I’m sure.
    “So you’re abandoning your family when we need you most. I can’t do this alone. I