Virals(51)

"It's probably just the flu," I said. "We were out in the rain all day."

Shelton and Hi nodded, but looked uneasy. That clinched it. I'd keep my own blackout secret for now.

Ditto for Karsten's accusations. No need to stir up pointless worry.

Change the subject.

"If Karsten had evidence against us, he'd have used it. So long as we keep quiet"--I glanced at the puppy--"and Coop out of sight, we'll be safe."

There. That sounded confident.

As though on cue, Coop scampered over and nudged Shelton for an ear scratch. When Shelton obliged, the puppy rolled tummy-up and wagged his tail. He was so adorable I could throw up.

"What's next for the wolfpup?" asked Ben.

"We start looking for a home." Though I hated giving Coop up, he was a smoking gun. If Karsten spotted him, we'd wind up in juvie.

"We need someone trustworthy," I said. "Outside the city. Somewhere Karsten will never stumble across him."

"What about Heaton?" Shelton asked. "I don't have plans for tomorrow, but I'd like a heads-up if we're going to rob a bank or something."

"Hilarious," I said. "You should write for The Simpsons."

"I'll think about it," Shelton said. "Heaton?"

"The fingerprint is our only lead. If that bombs, I'm out of ideas."

"Relying on Chance Claybourne." Ben shook his head. "Great."

"He's not so bad," Shelton said. "For a trust fund baby."

"Goodbye." Hi stood. "I'm hitting the rack before I feel worse. I'm paranoid enough as it is."

I was on the same page.

The boys ruffled Coop's fur as they trooped outside. He whined, but curled on his cushion. In moments he was sleeping.

We'll need a door soon, I thought. Any day now Coop will be bounding through the dunes. A good problem.

"Sweet dreams, little guy."

I followed the others out into the night.





CHAPTER 37


Saturday arrived with heavy storm clouds. I waited for Kit to leave, then vaulted from bed.

And found a note taped to my door. Kit wanted to "chat" right after work.

Great. Fun times ahead.

Whatever. Today I'd enjoy some quality time with Coop. We'd have to ship him off soon. I planned to soak up as much puppy love as I could.

A light drizzle began as I pedaled to the bunker. Picking up the pace, I rounded the last dune, dropped my bike, and scampered toward the entrance.

From nowhere, a gray blur shot from the bushes and tangled my legs. I tripped and landed in a patch of myrtle. The shape streaked into a stand of sea oats and disappeared.

Heart hammering, I looked around. Through the silky stalks, I could see a small gray snout pointed at me. Skinny legs. Floppy ears.

Seconds later, Coop pounced on my ankle, snarling and tugging.

"How did you get out?" I scratched his head. "You're supposed to be resting!"

Coop nuzzled my hand, ears flapping all wrong, eyes twinkling with spirit. Yipping a mock threat, he dropped his head onto his forepaws and raised his rump in the air.

"Did Uncle Hiram let you run free? Or did you go walkabout all on your own?"

I pushed Coop inside the bunker and followed. No sign of Hi, though he'd promised to help disinfect.

"Okay, little buddy. Looks like it's just you and me."

Coop rolled to his back. I rubbed his tummy, delighted all signs of illness appeared to be gone.

"Time to sterilize this joint."

Coop's body would shed virus for another week. Since he'd be contagious, we had to make sure the disease didn't spread.

Using a bleach solution, I doused the walls and wiped down the furniture. Then I bagged Coop's blankets for laundering.

Outside, I poured bleach on Coop's "potty patch." Not ecofriendly, but parvovirus can survive in soil for up to six months. I didn't want some dune-walking beagle picking up the disease.

Coop lay curled in the corner, ignoring my Clorox binge.

I'd just finished swabbing the floor when dizziness swept through me. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.

The vertigo worsened.

I began to cough. Slowly at first, then in rapid, choking hacks. The spasms sent pain firing through my skull. My eyeballs throbbed. Hot tears poured down my cheeks.

Must be the fumes. Get fresh air.

I lurched for the entrance.

Consciousness wobbled. The room tilted like a ship at sea. I felt a curious lightness, then something hard against my face. A small corner of my mind understood I'd fallen to the ground.

Seconds passed. Hours?

Reality drifted back into focus.

I became aware of a giant pink slug attached to my nose.

"Bleah!" I swatted weakly. "Enough!"

Coop withdrew his tongue. Retreated. Barked.

Food now. Can.

"Okay. One sec."

My head was still spinning and my mouth tasted like metal. Ignoring ladylike decorum, I hawked a loogie on the floor. The sour tang remained.

I struggled upright, my brain feeling like twisted spaghetti.

Gasp.

My breathing was all over the map.

The second attack struck.

A cerebral boom dropped me to my knees. I felt pressure. Pain. Cold sweat.