Isolation by Jones, Nathan (the first e reader .TXT) 📗

fallen sick to the Zolos survivors' section. And everyone they've come in contact with needs to be separated from the others in the section, on the off chance they weren't exposed.” She frowned, mind racing. “They need to be separated from each other as well for the same reason. Which is going to be a headache when it comes to meeting their needs . . .”

The radio was silent, and Ellie realized she was wasting time thinking the entire situation through when she needed to be acting quickly in this crisis. She shook herself and continued firmly. “First things first. Lockdown, separation.”

“Right.” Johnny's voice abruptly raised in a snarl, the force of his transmission causing a burst of feedback. “You listening to this, Jay? Eavesdropping like always? Well then I hope you're aware that you've infected innocent people! You've as good as murdered them!”

Ellie bit back a flash of irritation. This wasn't the time or place for this; they had no way of knowing this was Jay's fault, since the sick people were in the new arrivals section, not in the tents hit by Wensbrooks' water balloons.

Granted, it probably was. But even if so, publicly accusing Jay of it would just serve to anger everyone in Stanberry and the camp who'd volunteered to fight him, ensuring they'd probably be more vicious in further conflicts.

The radio crackled with Jay's laconic voice. “Got any proof of that? You're in a quarantine camp . . . only a matter of time before you actually needed to worry about, you know, quarantining people.”

Ellie cut in before Johnny or anyone else could reply. “Stay on task, Johnny. We've got a crisis to deal with.”

There was a brief pause. “Right,” the quarantine camp leader said, although his voice shook with anger. “I'll be around to talk to you in person. Johnny out.”

Jay started to reply, more of his usual vitriol from the sound of it, and Ellie clicked to change channels, going to the prearranged backup.

Then she turned to Hal, determinedly straightening her shoulders. “Let's get to work.”

✽✽✽

Got any proof of that?

The words rang in Larry Barons's head as he finished his patrol shift and started back to camp, uncomfortable behind the wheel of the truck he'd picked out to replace the one the Stanberry fighters had disabled. His preference would've been to change the tires on his old one, but at the moment grabbing a new vehicle from the ones abandoned all over the place was easier than making repairs.

Besides, with the way they'd put the pedal to the metal to get out of that ambush, the rims were probably trashed.

It was tempting to let himself get distracted thinking of those awful moments when their ambushers had first opened fire, the frantic minutes that followed in their panicked struggle to get away. But letting himself think of that would've been cowardly, considering what he'd just heard.

Zolos in the quarantine camp, within the four days since Jay's water balloon attack. Which meant it very well could've been them in spite of Jay's cavalier denial.

Things were spiraling more and more out of control.

Larry wasn't happy about what had happened at that Stanberry house they'd ransacked yesterday. It had just been a crazy thing that had gotten out of hand. He didn't even know who had first started it, if anyone had.

They'd originally gone into the place intending to loot it, in response to what had been done to their own homes in Wensbrook. As Jay had put it, “justice”.

Their leader had been stirring them up emotionally the entire way there, reminding them what they'd lost, what had been done to them, how unrepentant Stanberry was about it. So by the time they arrived at that abandoned farmhouse the group had been pretty pissed off.

Safe to say things had started off on the wrong foot.

So they'd stormed in and began grabbing everything worth taking, not destroying anything. At first. Larry couldn't remember who it was who'd started smashing dishes in the kitchen, but spurred by his example someone else had started smashing out windows, and yet another had began slashing up furniture with his knife.

Larry had tried to step in and stop it, but Jay had caught his arm and pulled him back. “You don't want to get in the way of people letting out steam,” he'd said quietly. “Their blood's up, hard to tell what they'll do.”

It was an outrageous thing to say, considering Jay had been the one who'd deliberately gotten their blood up in the first place and turned their friends into an angry mob. And if anyone could step in and stop them, it was their leader. It was his responsibility to keep things from getting out of control.

Instead, Jay had ambled over to the mantelpiece and started tossing family photos into a pile, then stomping on them.

Larry had gone outside after that, feeling sick. He'd had doubts for a while about where Jay was taking this, but that had been over the line as far as he was concerned.

And now Stanberry was accusing them of deliberately spreading Zolos in the quarantine camp. And it might be true.

What was he going to do? He'd never thought his friend would go down this path, that trying to get justice for their homes being looted would turn into an ugly war against another town. A town full of mostly innocent people who were just trying to survive this, same as them.

Well, first things first it was time to have another talk with his friend.

Jay was still at camp, as expected. Or more accurately, he was out on the makeshift shooting range they'd built, along with most of the group's other Zolos survivors willing to fight.

When Larry had left for his patrol in his new vehicle, his friend had been in the process of having the six disabled trucks moved onto the range. Now their fighters were all crammed into the vehicles, drilling at returning fire against ambushing enemies.

A few dozen mostly hidden targets to either