The 40th Day (After the Cure Book 5) by Deirdre Gould Page B

cobs in his barrow. “We don’t have to get it all from this batch though, plenty coming.”
    Molly sighed. “Plenty. That’s a nice, comfortable word. Haven’t heard that much lately.”
    “Wish I could say it was going to be a familiar word. There’s just too many people relying on too small a garden.”
    Henry looked down the hill where the quarantine camp’s lanterns glittered like a strange constellation. “Our numbers will go down, soon enough,” he said.
    “I hate to say it, but I’m glad it’s the disease and not us that is doing the choosing,” said Amos.
    “That’s only because it hasn’t taken anyone we know yet. Vincent’s still— himself, isn’t he?” asked Molly, carefully spreading the husks to dry beside the fire.
    “He’s lost a few people down there. He’s had to— he thinks he’s a murderer. Father Preston apparently excommunicated him. But he’s still Vincent. The longer this goes on, though, the more I regret setting up that quarantine camp to begin with. What if none of them are immune? We would have lost a good man for no reason.” Henry tore at some corn silk.
    “No Henry, don’t regret it. Even if none of them are immune, that quarantine camp is what’s saving the people up here. It gives the refugees some hope. Makes them less desperate. If it didn’t exist, or if someone less kind and careful than Vincent were running it, the people fleeing the City would have attacked us just to be let in. They’re so scared they don’t even realize they brought the thing they were running from with them. They would have fought us and then people up here would have become infected. The whole Colony would have been lost. Vincent’s not just saving the Immunes down in that camp, he’s saving us all . The best thing for us to do is to honor that and help these people survive. We don’t have an easy road ahead of us either.”
    The radio on Henry’s belt crackled and startled them all. “Anyone home?” Vincent’s voice was tight and strained. Amos stood up and looked toward the camp, as if expecting attack or fire. Henry held the radio up. “We’re here, Vincent.”
    “The others are with you?”
    “Molly and Amos are, do you want me to find the others?”
    “N— yes, Henry, go find them. The people that cured us are here. They have— news. But give the radio to Amos first.”
    “I’m here,” said Amos, after Henry handed him the set.
    “Oh, good, well, we need to add a few numbers to the food delivery and we’re getting low on lime.”
    Amos frowned. “He’s gone, Vincent. What did you not want to tell him?”
    “I’m not good at this.”
    Amos smiled. “I like you better for it,” he said.
    There was a long silence before Vincent sighed, “It was his Marnie. I’m certain of it. She’s been exposed, the other woman turned just after you left them. What do I tell him?”
    Molly sucked in a startled breath. Amos glanced at her. “Is she showing symptoms?”
    “She’s not sick yet, but the woman, Christine— they’d been in the same shelter for weeks.”
    Amos shook his head and looked at Molly. “If we tell him, he’ll just go running down there. He’ll feel like it’s his obligation even though there’s nothing he can do.”
    “If we don’t tell him,” said Molly, “he’ll never forgive us. He’ll leave anyway.”
    “Amos?” Vincent’s voice stuttered over the radio.
    Amos blew out a sigh and then spoke into the handset. “We have to tell him, Vincent.”
    “It’s a death sentence.”
    “It’s his choice. Maybe we can put him somewhere else to minimize the risk of exposure. Maybe she’s immune. Maybe he’s immune.”
    “But you need him there.”
    Amos nodded, though Vincent couldn’t see him. “I do. We do. But we can’t chain him up and force him to stay. He thinks Marnie is the reason he was cured, that protecting her is his entire purpose. I can’t take that from him.”
    Molly stood up and put her good hand on Amos’s arm.