By the time Sam had ordered in pizza, the number of drop-offs had finally slowed to a trickle and ended at eighty-seven. Two of the new ones seemed to have the vague lethargy that foreshadowed bad things, so she moved these into the dwindling space of the isolation room.
Dwindling. It was a word that captured so much about their situation—time, resources, and, now that Sam had learned from the dean that her father was missing again and not even aware of her plea for help, hope. She would need to tell Tom about the sick dogs, she decided… and then convinced herself that a few more hours of delay would be excusable.
When the pizza finally arrived, the shelter crew all took a needed break and gathered around the staff room table, numbly chewing slices while watching the local news report that there was no progress in halting the virus or isolating the vector.
“This sucks.” Greg finally broke the silence. He tossed pieces of his crust to a few dogs sitting at his feet.
“Let’s take a step back,” Sam said. “What do we know?”
“We know this sucks,” Greg repeated.
“Something slightly more constructive?” Sam pressed.
“We’ve got sick dogs and dogs that show no signs of infection,” Luke offered.
“And,” Beth added, “we’ve got humans that have come into contact with the sick dogs, with no signs of infection. At least not yet.”
“What do we know about the dogs that are sick?” Sam asked, and passed around a stack of patient folders. They each reviewed a file, although they already knew the limited contents.
“Bloody diarrhea,” Sid said, reading from his file.
“Abdominal tenderness,” Luke added.
“Dehydration,” Beth chimed in.
“Yeah, but the second two symptoms are probably the result of the first,” Greg said.
“Right.” Sam nodded. “There’s also a fever, but we know there are no signs of parasites and our initial blood slides showed nothing out of the ordinary under the microscope.”
“What do we know about the dogs themselves?” Greg asked.
“Not a lot, except for Nick,” Luke responded, looking through the file folders.
“Nick was a park stray before he found me,” Sam responded. “So nothing useful in the history there. What about the others? Who’s their vet? Maybe those offices have some helpful background.”
They all looked through their files.
“Morgan for mine,” Luke said.
“Morgan,” Sid said, reading from his.
Greg scanned his intake interview notes. “According to what they told us, except for Nick, the eight sick dogs had Morgan as their primary vet.”
“But that sort of makes sense,” Sam said. “She’s the only local practice. Most people don’t travel too far for their routine vet care. Plus she’s got the lab.”
“So that’s a dead end,” Greg said. “Morgan’s not going to turn over her files to you.”
“Maybe I can have Walden call her on the authority of the mayor. We were promised city hall support.” Sam checked her watch. Morgan was probably gone by now anyway. “Greg, are you still friendly with that tech over there?”
“See if you can reach him. He’s at least reasonable. Tell him to expect a call from downtown, but don’t tell him any of the dogs are sick.”
Greg gave Sam his “How stupid do you think I am?” look and left the room.
Beth cleared her throat. “Isn’t it a bit… I don’t know… fantasy to expect that we’re going to be able to figure out something that the CDC with all its resources can’t understand?”
“My father worked with the CDC,” Sam said. “He was never a fan. They have some great people, but it’s a bureaucracy with lots of protocols. They don’t move fast.”
“And we have one thing the CDC doesn’t,” Luke said. “We have the dogs.”
“Exactly,” Sam concurred. At least for the next few hours. After that, Sam figured all bets were off.
Greg returned to the room rubbing his chin. “No answer at Morgan’s either on the phone or from the service.”
“Someone must be there,” Sam said. “At least a tech for the overnight. Probably just not picking up the phone with everything going on. Can you go over and take a look?”
Greg returned fifteen minutes later. “Locked up tight.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“Lights out, nobody home,” he answered. “No signs of life at all.”
Sam shook her head. “That can’t be. What about her staff? Her clients? She’s a twenty-four-hour operation.”
“Not today,” Greg said. “I called Petra on his cell. He told me that all the staff got an e-mail that the practice would be closed for the duration of the quarantine, and they would be on paid leave. Petra said that Morgan’s just sitting at her big old house in Bedford watching Ellen while you do the city’s crap work.”
“But what about the animals Morgan had in-house when it happened?” Sam asked.
“Petra said Morgan sent the surgicals to the Animal Medical Center across town before the wall came down, and the rest went home or were transferred.”
“This still doesn’t make any sense,” Sam complained.
“You’re not thinking like Morgan,” Beth offered. “I know her type. Shit, I am her type. She doesn’t want to get involved, doesn’t want to get pressed into doing service for the city for free, and doesn’t want to stay in the infection zone.”
“Yeah, I guess, maybe,” Sam said, far from convinced. “I guess we—”
The pounding on the front door stopped her.
“Another drop-off?” Greg asked.
“Not likely,” Sam said. The drop-off window had closed and the Guard had taken to turning people away.
“Probably more press then,” Luke said. “I’ll get it.”
Sam was already on her feet. “Finish your pizza. I’m not hungry anyway.” She left them and opened the front door, still thinking about Morgan.
In the next instant, every thought flew out of her head as she struggled to process the fact that her father was standing before her.
Daniel attempted to smile, but Sam could see the pain behind it. “I wanted you to know… you deserve to know that I lied to you,” he said. “I do remember the faces of those dogs I mutilated… I actually see them all the time… they stare out at me from the cages. But those aren’t the worst of the images. I know those are memories and beyond any power to repair. It’s the ones with you—the dreams I have where you are locked away alone in a cage of my construction—that are the most painful to bear. Those gut me because I know they are both true and told in real time.”
Sam’s first instinct was to say something hurtful. But her fear and need for help in this moment were greater than her urge to cause pain.
She stepped aside and allowed Daniel to cross the threshold into the shelter.