Free Plague Ship by Leonard Goldberg Page A

caught it and passed it on to Sol, with whom he had close contact. And Marilyn would be next because she too had such close contact with …
    David stopped in his tracks. Close contact! The people who had close contact with Will were most likely to become infected with the virus, and nobody had closer contact than Kit! They played and ate and went to movies together every day. And who knows? They may have even kissed! Oh Jesus! Oh Jesus!
    David broke into a run and dashed to the staircase, then up the stairs at full speed. He sprinted by startled passengers as he went through a door and down a long passageway, still thinking about how close Kit and Will had been. They had been closer than Will and Sol—that was for damn sure. David grumbled to himself, remembering how cute he thought it was for Kit to have found a little boyfriend. Then it all seemed so innocent. Now it could turn out to be all so deadly.
    He came to Kit’s cabin and, after a quick rap on the door, entered. Juanita was sitting on the sofa, reading a Spanish magazine. The sliding glass doors were opened to an empty balcony. Kit was nowhere to be seen.
    “Where’s Kit?” David asked anxiously.
    “She’s taking her afternoon nap,” Juanita replied. “Why? Is something wrong?”
    “No, no,” David said, gathering himself. “Is she feeling all right?”
    “She is fine,” Juanita told him. “It was I who insisted she take a nap. Children need their rest too, you know.”
    David breathed a sigh of relief. “Has she had any symptoms of a cold? Like fever or chills or cough?”
    “No,” Juanita said and eyed him carefully. “Why do you ask this?”
    “Because there is a virus going around.”
    “The Little One is fine,” she reassured him. “See for yourself.”
    David tiptoed into the bedroom and saw Kit sound asleep, hugging her favorite teddy bear. He watched her breathe, without even a hint of a cough or wheeze. Again he was struck by the child’s beauty. The flawless skin. The raven-black hair. The rosy pink lips that always seemed to have a half-smile on them. She had inherited so much from her mother, David thought for the thousandth time. Those wonderful genes that made her doubly special. He moved silently to the bed and kissed the top of her head, careful not to wake her. As he turned to leave, he saw Kit’s diary on the nightstand. It was open. Reaching over to close it, he noticed there was a paragraph about Will at the top of the page. He had always considered Kit’s diary to be her private business, and none of his. But now things were different. Will was sick and dying from a vicious virus, and Kit was still very much at risk.
    David sat quietly in a chair and began to read the diary.
    Wednesday
    Will showed me his big secret. We went through a door by the pool and down some real slippery steps to a place where there was a lot of pipes and electric things. Then Will showed me his secret. It was a sick bird he had found under a deck chair. He had it on a dirty old blanket and was giving it food and water. But the big bird—Will says it’s a goose—wouldn’t drink or eat. Maybe because it was so sick. The bird kept coughing up stuff and it got all over Will’s face and hands, but he promised to wash it off later. Then Will put the bird back under the pipes and we left.
    David stared at the page of the open diary, stunned, with his mouth agape.
    Oh, my God!

eight
    David took William Rutherford’s arm and guided him to the outer deck of the bridge. He glanced over his shoulder to make certain no one was within earshot of their conversation.
    “We’ve got a full-blown disaster underway on this ship,” David said gravely. “And it’s going to explode right in our face.”
    “Are you referring to the viral pneumonia?” Rutherford asked at once.
    David shook his head. “I’m referring to avian influenza. We have an outbreak of bird flu aboard the Grand Atlantic and it’s spreading fast.”
    Rutherford was shocked