Resonance, J. B. Everett [the top 100 crime novels of all time txt] 📗

another orientation. That’s what had started this whole mess, too.

 

He picked out the old school compass, shaking off fantasies of the days when he could swear at everyone around him. When they were all associate faculty, not physicians. Or better yet, students - students whose degrees depended on his good graces. David looked at the houses they were wandering past, just a few blocks beyond the high school. Some with pretty flowers in pots and window boxes. Some with peeling paint.

 

And some with both. It was eerie with the absence of people.

 

He feared seeing the faces of the dead peering at him, as transparent as the windowpanes of the empty houses. He pulled his gaze to the needle which had stopped jumping although he wasn’t sure when. With a snort at himself for forgetting, he tossed a flag back a handful of yards. Close enough.

 

“You know, the paperwork this morning showed another bubble.” Jillian didn’t look at him, so he simply grunted, staying focused on his compass.

 

“It’s up toward the north side of town. And it’s growing pretty quickly.”

 

He grunted again, then decided that if he was going to shut her up interrupting was really the way to go.

 

He didn’t need chitchat. “What street are we on?”

 

She looked up, not pointing out that he could easily have tilted his own head and read the sign his damn self. “Pomona.”

 

He made her write it down, pulled out another meter and read the strength of the field off to her. But it didn’t shut her up.

 

“The bubble at the edge of town is really near the fence.” Her mouth moved as fast as the pencil recording everything he spouted at her. “They’re afraid it won’t respect the city’s boundaries. That it will cross the gate.

 

We’re not sure what to do then.”

 

“Hm.” He tried to leave it at that.

 

“There were fifty people reported down this morning. New since last night. And another hundred with stomach upset.” She paused to inhale and let it out, and it still didn’t sound like natural breathing to his ears, but he decided not to mention that. The compass needle in front of him jumped a little. He checked the field strength. Stepped into a front yard and popped a meter that looked remarkably like a meat thermometer into the ground.

 

He didn’t even get to read it before Jillian started babbling again. “You know, our numbers have shown that of those hundred down, ninety to ninety-five percent of them will actually have it. The other five plus percent are just your standard G I trouble with a dose of panic.”

 

David flattened the sigh before it escaped him. His eyes narrowed on the meter, but Jillian’s voice cut through again.

 

“David?”

 

Becky didn’t even look at the greenery around her, just jumped ship off the tiny Cessna and ignored the pilot as he pointed the way to Oak Ridge. The blue sedan waited, parked casually just off to the left of the three midsized hangars that made up the Clinton Airport. If it could be called that. Trees scraped the bottoms of the planes at each end of the runway. Grass grew up through cracks in the barely paved ‘landing strip’. And nothing bigger than a tour plane had ever come through to the best of her knowledge.

 

But Becky just smiled and waved a thank-you to the pilot and waited barely long enough for Leon to close the sedan’s passenger door behind himself. From the looks of him he had been hoping to drive, but she ignored that and hit the gas before he even had the seat adjusted. With a grunt he pulled his seatbelt across him and slapped it into the buckle. Becky wasn’t sure if that was meant as an insult, but she didn’t care.

 

Since they were driving to her house, she didn’t see where she needed to sit in the passenger seat and give directions and be polite about missed turn-offs and that squinting and head-shaking thing people always did when driving in an unfamiliar area. She was through with being polite and worrying about other people’s feelings.

 

She ran two stop signs, ignoring Leon’s outstretched finger both times. There weren’t even police out this way, just the County Sheriff Office. And the deputies would just smile at her and nod if they wound up pulling her over. She knew them all.

 

Finally she came to a complete stop at a red light that was collecting cars waiting on the empty crosslane.

 

Her fingers tapped impatiently on the wheel. Her foot hovered, barely holding the brake down, itching to ride the non-existent clutch. Her right hand grabbed for the gearshift hoping to slam it into second. But she consciously pulled her fingers away, knowing that throwing an automatic into low gear wouldn’t help her one bit.

 

Her lip took some abuse from her teeth, and just as she squealed the tires out into the crossing she heard the distinctive synthetic music of her cell phone. Grabbing for it at the clip on her belt she tossed it to Leon.

 

“Check the ID, would you?”

 

With one hand making a graceful pass, he swiped the phone from the air before it arced in the careless direction it had been sent and saved it from colliding with the dash. Nimble fingers he oriented the slick silver thing and he read off the name, “Dr. Overton.”

 

“Don’t answer.” She took a hard left at the next light and out of the corner of her eye, Becky saw Leon’s fingers reach for purchase then tuck themselves away out of sight. She didn’t say anything and he didn’t either. He simply sat, huge and silent, and looking very uncomfortable, never mentioning that he was surely aware that they were going the opposite direction from where they were supposed to be. Or that they were going the wrong way like a bat out of hell.

 

She was grateful when, at last, she hit the old road that led to her parent’s house. But it was too narrow and full of cracks from winter and grass from summer. She was forced to slow down too many times. But Becky couldn’t really get mad. She knew all the people going by. They waved and she waved and drove on before they could get the windows down and tell her how nice it was to see her back from school.

 

The barbed wire fences gave way at last to the old sagging split rail that lined her yard. Melanie was out front with a spoon digging under the old tire swing, the first thing that had brought a smile to Becky’s face this whole day. She was probably digging up worms or such to dissect. The little geek.

 

“That your-” Leon started the question then cut himself off.

 

“What?” Becky finally looked him in the face, taking in his long blond hair, again pulled back away from his sharp jaw, somehow always bearing about two days worth of stubble. His blue eyes matched the early winter sky in understanding and bleakness.

 

“Nothing.” He looked the house up and down. “I’m sure this is a required stop on our way to Oak Ridge.”

 

He finished his sentence and sealed his lips not once making eye contact.

 

Becky nodded. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

 

Melanie was already running toward the car, having recognized her sister only after raising her hand to her red bangs to see who was driving the strange car that had pulled so boldly onto the gravel driveway. Becky caught the imp in her arms and swung her around a few times. She sucked in the air, knowing full well that it might already be in the reversal. Even though, by her own calculations it shouldn’t have come this far. Not yet anyway. But she knew she had to stop and take deep breaths. To smell her yard and the air, and really look at it, because it may very well be the last time.

 

In a practiced move, she swung Mel with a quick change of grasp that both sisters were familiar with. Melanie was riding piggyback by the time they passed through the front door, spoon and worms forgotten momentarily. She yelled right next to Becky’s ear. “Mom! Look who I found!”

 

Her mother rounded the corner from the laundry room. “Hey, Baby.” Her face lit up at seeing her oldest daughter so unexpectedly.

 

She slid Mel down her back until her sister’s small sneakered feet hit the hard wood floor and Becky rushed to hug her mother.

 

Her mother hugged back just as fiercely before pulling away and looking Becky in the eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

 

With a deep breath that took in the pine cleaner and open country, and a quick look at the old furniture, covered with throws and battered pillows, she turned to deliver the news. “I can’t tell you what’s happening. Just that it’s bigger than me.”

 

Her mother’s brows knit together. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

 

Becky shook her head. “But I am with the CDC now, so you figure it out.” Another frown from her mother and another deep breath of the smell that was her home. “I can tell you this: you need to pack up the kids and Dad and go visit Aaron for at least a week. Call me before you return.”

 

Her mother leaned back, a hand absently reaching for the washer to steady herself. “Is Aaron in trouble?”

 

“No. But you need to go visit him.” Becky stared at her mother, hoping she would take the message and quit.

 

“Is something happening here?” Her mother’s voice shook, just a little, but she straightened up, standing firm on her own two feet.

 

Becky did the only thing she could do: she nodded her head while speaking. “I can’t tell you that. All I can say is that this would be a great time to go visit Aaron. Maybe get out of the house by tomorrow morning at the latest.”

 

Her mother leaned forward looking for one last out. “Are you sure?”

 

“Absolutely.” She reached forward giving her mother a hug. “I’m not supposed to be here. I have to go.”

 

Turning, she spied Melanie wide-eyed behind her, having heard the whole conversation. She scooped her sister up even as the words began flowing out of that little mouth. “This is about those frogs isn’t it?”

 

So Becky did it again. She nodded, contradicting her voice. “I don’t know.”

 

“Something is wrong there.” Melanie paused, leaning back, “and it’s coming here.”

 

“I always knew you were a very smart girl. And Mom’s going to listen to whatever ideas you have. Because you’re probably right!” She yelled for Brandon, hoping he would make his way out to see her. She could hear the time ticking away in heartbeats.

 

With a last thought she turned back. “You don’t tell anyone about this. Do you both understand me? If you start a panic there’s no telling what will happen.”

 

Both the Sorenson women nodded back at her and she turned to go. “I love you.”

 

Brandon showed his face in the hall right as she reached the front door. She tried to scoop him up but he was too heavy, and from the looks of it, three inches taller than the last time she had seen him. Blinking back tears, she kissed his cheek and went out the front door.

 

The wood planks of the porch showed wear at the front door and down the steps. The grass had disappeared in a trail to the end of the drive, where the CDC sedan sat - with one very nonchalant Leon squeezed into the passenger side seat, looking anywhere but at her.

 

Becky walked up to his side and tapped on the window, startling him from his glazed over look. He opened the door to her and she smiled, holding out the keys. “Do you want to drive?”

 

“Hell, yes.” He didn’t look at her mother or her sister in the front doorway. He didn’t acknowledge her brother’s whoops that they were going to go visit Aaron. Just calmly walked around and situated himself in the driver’s side, lifting the lever and sliding the