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“It’s not bad, it’s not bad,” she said, knowing it was a lie.
“Did you see that? That cop just fucking bit me.”
“I know, I know. He must have been…”
She let that go because she didn’t know what the cop could have been. The radio was saying wild things, and the whole world behind them seemed to be on fire.
“We need to find a hospital.”
“No,” he barked. “No way. Keep the pressure on. I’ll be okay.”
“But you’re bleeding!”
“No way I’m stopping anywhere near here. Everyone’s nuts around here.”
She worked the belt off and managed to cinch it around his arm.
“Not too tight,” he cautioned, feeling a little calmer, a little more in control as the miles fell away behind him.
The baby was crying so loud that they both had to shout.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m good. See to Lucy. I’ll be fine.”
“We need to stop.”
But he shook his head. “No way. No damn way.”
The car shot down the road and vanished into the storm. They crossed the state line into West Virginia at nearly eighty miles an hour.
CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT
BEYOND THE QUARANTINE ZONE
THE HEARTS AND ARMOR MEDIEVAL FAIRE
NORMALVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA
Rob Meyer and his friends sat around a small foldout table in the singlewide trailer used as a greenroom for the performers on the fairground. None of them were in armor, having shucked the heavy chain and plate mail hours ago, after the pig roast that ended each day of swordplay, bawdy songs, medieval crafts, heavy drinking, and choreographed jousting. Since most of the events were under tents, the show had gone on yesterday—although in abbreviated form. The guys were all in sweats and T-shirts, their hair and beards glistening from rainwater. Rob had gone around the camp, banging on trailer doors, rousing the staff, telling them what was going on.
Some of them already knew. Night owls who’d been glued to their portable TVs or laptops since last night, watching storm-soaked reporters do standups outside of the Stebbins County line. Others had slept through it, dropping off to exhausted sleep after shucking their weapons and armor.
Now everyone was watching. Some there in the greenroom, others in their own trailers. No one was sleeping anymore.
Not on the fairgrounds, and probably not anywhere.
“Is this shit real?” asked one of the roustabouts. It was the sixth or seventh time he’d asked the same question.
“It’s real,” said Rob.
“Yeah, okay, but what is it?”
“It’s a riot,” said one of the grooms.
“I don’t think so,” said Rob. Before the groom could ask him to explain, the CBS affiliate out of Pittsburgh cut in with breaking news. They managed to get one of their news trucks close to a section of Route 653 in Fayette County. The reporter stood in the rain and shouted impossible things. Behind the reporter something was burning. Police vehicles whipped red and blue lights through the night.
“This is a scene of total chaos,” said the reporter. “You can see the fires that are still burning. Witnesses claim that military aircraft dropped bombs on the western edge of Bordentown. We can’t get any closer than two miles, but even from here the heat is incredible. An unnamed source in Washington says that these measures are being taken to prevent an outbreak of an as-yet unknown disease. This source claims that the disease is highly contagious and causes anyone who becomes infected to act in a violent and irrational way. Local police departments throughout the region, including many in northwestern Maryland, are reporting a shocking increase in violent crimes.”
Behind the reporter a man and woman, both bleeding from several wounds, were shoving their children into their car. The children were screaming, and the woman clutched a small, limp child to her breast. The husband slammed the doors
