Contagious

How many were out there? Perry couldn’t tell. He could never tell for sure.

He’d picked up a few wisps that morning. Like smelling something in your apartment, something you smelled only if you turned a certain way, and then it was gone. And you know that smell, because you’ve smelled it before. You just can’t remember what it is. It was that kind of familiarity.

Familiar, yet different. There was something else in those wisps. Something less random. More powerful, maybe?

Perry knocked on the door to Room 207. Dew answered.

“Hey Perry,” he said, and smiled, almost as if Dew were happy to see him. “Come on in.”

Perry followed him into the room. Baum and Milner were there, as was Amos, who had a bagel in one hand, a stack of papers in the other and a laptop sitting on his legs. Baum and Milner stiffened. Amos’s eyes immediately shot to the door. As soon as Perry moved into the room, Amos dropped the bagel, shut the computer and ran out.

“d.a.m.n, that little guy is twitchy,” Dew said.

“Yeah,” Milner said. “Can’t imagine why.”

Perry stared at the smaller man. “Milner, I’m standing right here if you’ve got something on your mind.”

Baum laughed. “You sure you want some? You look a little roughed up from your last go-around.”

“Baum, shut the f.u.c.k up,” Dew said. “If you think you can take Dawsey, I’ll be happy to move all this stuff out of the way and you two can have at it.”

Baum stared at Perry and said nothing.

Perry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was Dew sticking up for him? Well, not sticking up, exactly, but calling Baum out to back up his mouth.

“Well?” Dew said to Baum.

Baum shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Then keep your pie-hole shut,” Dew said. “Milner, you too. Now, Perry, what have you got for us?”

“I’m hearing chatter,” Perry said quietly.

All three men perked up.

“Where?” Dew asked.

Perry shrugged. “Not sure yet. Southeast is as close as I can get.”

“Michigan again?” Dew asked. “Maybe Ohio?”

Perry shrugged once more.

“So why haven’t you gone after it?” Milner asked. “Got in your fancy car and headed out.”

“Because he and I have come to an understanding,” Dew said. “Perry’s part of the team now.”

Milner laughed. Dew shot him a you’re already on thin ice glare, and Milner’s smile faded.

“What’s it sound like?” Baum asked, his disdain for Perry suddenly gone.

“Can you pick out any names? Places?”

Perry shook his head. “Not yet, but it’s getting stronger.”

“Just have a seat, kid,” Dew said. “And relax, it will come like before.

We’ll get everyone loaded up and head in that general direction.”

Perry limped to a chair and sat.

And right then, the chatter . . . changed.

“Something’s wrong,” Perry said. “It’s getting . . . quieter all of a sudden.”

“Concentrate,” Dew said. “Maybe you have to focus?”

“Doesn’t work like that,” Perry said. “It’s always on. I don’t have any control over it. It’s fading. I can’t hear the chatter. What I hear now sounds . . . well, it sounds kind of gray.”

He looked at Dew. “It’s gone. I can’t hear them anymore.”

DR. DAN COSTS AMOS TWENTY BUCKS

The V-22 Osprey helicopter pa.s.sed over the highway at a high alt.i.tude, then turned 180 degrees. It dropped closer to the ground and came in for a landing in the parking lot, putting the rest-stop building between it and the road.

As the chopper set down, Margaret saw the familiar sight of two nondescript semi trailers parked in parallel. They had a different paint job from the ones she’d left behind in Glidden—brown and dented, another flavor of faux–shabby industrial. Aside from the plastic extension connecting the two trailers, no one would have given them a second glance.

“I wonder if they got last year’s model,” Amos said. “The MargoMobile lot must be jumping this time of year.”

The trip here had been a whirlwind. Once word came down that two bodies had tested positive for cellulose, Dew kicked the operation into high gear. Margaret, Amos, Clarence, Gitsh and Marcus were in the air within fifteen minutes. Murray ordered radio silence for the trip—he wasn’t taking any chances. An hour and a half later, their Osprey was touching down at this rest area in Bay City, Michigan.

Margaret hadn’t known there were more MargoMobiles. Even with his inner circle, Murray still had secrets inside of secrets. In fact, now she wondered just how many MargoMobiles existed. Certainly made sense to use multiple units—driving the first set from Glidden would have taken ten hours. Even moving them using cargo helicopters would have cost valuable time. With multiple units and multiple crews, Murray could lock down infection sites much faster.

Margaret and her team hopped out and headed straight for the brown trailers. A man stood outside, wearing an air force uniform covered with a heavy blue jacket and a hat that flopped warm-looking flaps down over his ears. The man snapped a taut salute.

“Captain Daniel Chapman,” he said.

“I’m not military,” Margaret said. “Neither is anyone else here.”

The salute vanished. “Good. I hate saluting.” He stuck out his hand.

“Doctor Chapman. Call me Dan. Nice to meet you.”

Margaret returned the shake. “Doctor Margaret Montoya. This is Doctor Amos Braun and Agent Clarence Otto.”

“Agent of what?” Dan asked as he shook the men’s hands.

“Agent to the stars,” Clarence said with a smile. “It’s really not important, don’t you think?”

Dan nodded and held up one hand, as if to say, Sorry I asked, I should have known.

He led them into the MargoMobile’s computer room. It looked exactly the same as the one she’d left back in Glidden, save for air force logos on the flat-panels and a coffee-mug ring or two on the counter. Dan waited until Margaret sat, then stood behind her. Amos sat in the chair next to her, while Otto seemed to fade away into the background. How he could manage to do that in a five-by-ten-foot room, Margaret couldn’t say, yet he did it just the same.