Free The Way We Fall by Megan Crewe Page A

stood up with Fossey on my shoulder. I had the urge to yank my mask back over my face, but that seemed incredibly rude. At least he wasn’t scratching or coughing.
    He stopped when he was a few steps away. Like he knew I’d want him to keep a little distance. “Hey,” he said. “You’re Kaelyn, right? Can I talk to you for a sec?”
    There wasn’t anything threatening about him. He just stood there waiting, his eyes intent on me. I felt awkward, especially with Fossey squirming across the back of my neck, and I lowered my gaze. The cuffs of his shirtsleeves were rolled up, and he had a brownish-yellow blotch from a fading bruise by his wrist. His forearms were wiry with muscle. Possibly from pummeling his friends on a regular basis.
    I made myself look at his face instead, and tried to sound normal. “Sure,” I said. “What about?”
    “I hear your dad’s some sort of expert on diseases,” he said.
    “He’s a microbiologist,” I said. “So, yeah, he’s studied bacteria and viruses and that sort of thing.”
    “So you must know more than just about anyone what’s really going on,” he said. “What’s he told you? How bad is it really?”
    “Pretty bad,” I said. “They still haven’t found an effective treatment. People are dying. The people who haven’t died aren’t getting better. My dad’s really worried.”
    “So this quarantine isn’t going to get lifted anytime soon,” he said, jerking his hand in the direction of the mainland. “They’re saying to hell with us.”
    “Well, if the doctors find a working treatment, everything could be okay in a few days,” I said. “And the government hasn’t abandoned us. The health agency’s here, and they’re going to be sending food and supplies.” All the same things I’ve been telling myself over and over.
    He smiled crookedly. “Right,” he said. “As long as helping us isn’t too much trouble. First time one of them gets sick, it’ll be ‘Sayonara!’ and we’re on our own.”
    One of the other guys called out, “Hey, Gav, come on!” before I had a chance to answer. He gave me a nod.
    “Thanks,” he said. “Stay safe.” I watched him stride back across the lawn toward his friends, a weight sinking deep in my stomach.
    The government would never totally give up on us, would they? I mean, how would Gav even know how they work? He’s just freaked out like the rest of us.
    Maybe for some people it’s easier to be angry. But if I couldn’t keep believing we’ll get through this, I’d probably end up hiding away in my room like Drew expected.

 
    I tried to put that conversation with Gav out of my head. Told myself I had enough to worry about already. But it’s starting to look like he was right.
    The first shipment from the mainland came today. The government was supposed to be making sure the distribution was done fairly and safely, with people going door to door so everyone got some of the food without having to go out and risk being exposed. It sounded decent of them. They could have dumped the supplies at the dock and taken off, but they were going to make an effort instead.
    So Mom and Drew and I were at home waiting for the doorbell to ring. I was trying to figure out what exactly the government would consider essential foods, and wondering whether the grocery store had any Cheetos left and if I might have to go the whole quarantine without them—as if cheezies really mattered right now. And then the bell finally sounded.
    It wasn’t the food delivery, though. It was Uncle Emmett. He glowered at Mom, who’d gotten to the door first. I saw Meredith sitting in the truck behind him, peering at us through the window. Her shoulders were hunched and she was nibbling at her thumbnail.
    “I know Gordon’s got you brainwashed into agreeing with the quarantine,” Uncle Emmett said. “But I thought I should at least try. There’s a protest at the dock. We want them to see just who they’re killing here. If you come now,