“Well, they’re working on a vaccine.”
“They are. But that sort of thing takes time.”
“Time you don’t think we have.”
His jaw shifts. “No.”
“I believe that we do. This is going to be just like the last pandemic. Fucking awful, but nothing like what you’re talking about. You need to let me go, Dean. Please.”
“I’m glad you have hope,” he says. “But I’m sorry, Astrid. You’re staying in that cage where I know you’ll be safe.”
“What do you care if I’m safe or not?”
“I just do.”
“That makes no sense.” My whole body starts to shake. Not good. “Last night was the first time we’d talked. We’re veritable strangers, and you built me a prison cell in your basement.”
“You’re welcome.” His gaze narrows on me. “Just breathe, Astrid. It’s going to be okay. No one’s going to hurt you, I promise.”
“You have to let me out of here. And what happens if you’re wrong about the virus?”
“You go free, and I go to jail,” he says matter-of-factly.
I can’t help but scoff. Though it sounds like more of a choked sob than anything else. My want to scream and rage and cry at him struggles with the need to stay calm and be rational and try to talk my way out of this. Though I have a feeling I’m fighting a losing battle. There’s so much fear and frustration inside of me. “Are you saying you’ll open my cage door and then, what…just hand yourself over to the cops?”
He crosses his arms. Angry red lines are visible from where I scratched him last night. “I might try making it to the border. But yes, I will just open your cage door once I know you’re going to be safe.”
Deep, even breaths. Passing out in a panic isn’t going to help. I need to choose my words with care and talk him into setting me free. Get him to see me as a person with my own wants and rights and needs. “How long do I have to stay here? When will you admit that you made a mistake?”
“You want a time frame?”
“Yes, please.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “Say a fortnight to be safe.”
“You want me to sit in this cage for two weeks?”
“Think about it. We’re probably going to know what’s going on a hell of a lot sooner. The first time anyone heard of thisvirus was through some vague reports from Europe and Asia on Saturday. But by Sunday, it was already here and circulating amongst the general population. Forget quarantine measures failing. We never even had a chance to implement them,” he says in a clear, concise voice. “As for the incubation period—you have someone picking a friend up from the airport Sunday afternoon and dying early Monday morning. There were underlying conditions in that case…but still. Others have reported a couple of days between first experiencing symptoms and succumbing to the virus.”
“I know all of this.”
He nods. “Good. That’s good. Let me tell you something you mightnotknow. The survival rate is zero, the communicability rate is through the roof, and the current death toll is millions more than we’re being told.”
“Oh, come on. You don’t think that all sounds a little paranoid? I know there are a lot of conflicting reports on social media. But how would they hide that kind of thing from us?”
“By shutting down the schools and telling us to stay home and stay safe,” he says. “Finding cause to block the largest social media site for the spread of news and information wouldn’t have hurt either. And this isn’t exactly the first time the government has lied to us about something.”
“Okay. Why are they doing it?”
“To avoid people panicking.”
“Where are you getting your information from?”
“I spent some time in the Marines. Just long enough to get shipped out, blown up, and discharged,” he says with a rueful smile.
“So you have cause to hate the government.”
“Doesn’t everybody these days?” he asks. “But the point is, I still have friends that are active in those circles. One of them has been working for a private firm. They’ve got her moving peoplearound for the CDC and evacuating government officials from Washington. That sort of thing.”
