Free The Ebola Wall by Joe Nobody, E. T. Ivester, D. Allen Page B

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    Paige suffered horrible nightmares, springing upright and screaming at the top of her lungs during the night. Anna was clearly paranoid, pulling her pistol at the smallest sound or surprise. Twice her mother had found herself staring down the barrel of the revolver, guilty of nothing worse than just entering the same room.
    The girls were restless as well, but more telling was the fact that they never separated. They went to the bathroom together, slept in the same room, cooked, ate, and spent countless hours watching cable news. On the rare occasion that one of the girls managed to accidently leave the other’s side, a mad scramble ensued to find the missing sister. The two sibling’s reactions were always swift, but unemotional.
    One day Anna noticed a picture on the piano, the image of a large cat drawing her attention. “What happened to Mittens?” she asked her mother, suddenly remembering the once-loved pet.
    “Oh, I forgot to take down that old picture,” mom had replied, hustling over to pick up the small frame. “Your dad and I thought we’d removed all of those photographs so you two girls wouldn’t be upset.”
    “So what happened to him?” Anna pressed.
    “He passed away, honey. He was pretty old, you know, and he didn’t wake up one morning,” the mother answered, anticipating an emotional reaction to the news.
    “Sorry to hear that,” Anna shrugged.
    And that was it. No tears, no more questions, no sadness whatsoever. It was troubling.
    Mother and father struggled to help their children, unsure of how to treat or react to their behavior. The only determination they could make was to show unconditional love and hope for the best.
    After a few days, it became clear that the worst of it had nothing to do with either child’s experiences in Houston. No, what eroded the situation in the middle class, suburban household was the fact that two of the McMillian clan were fugitives, and the other two were harboring them.
    The first time a police cruiser rolled innocently down the street, Mrs. McMillian nearly had a spell. “I don’t want to go to jail,” she kept whispering to her husband as they watched the cop drive by. “Oh, God, please don’t send me to jail.” His wife’s pale complexion and shaking hands were a telling sign of the fear that gripped his once happy home.
    Paige finally brought things to a head. “I’m going to Washington,” she announced. “I can’t sit here, hiding from the authorities while doing nothing to help the people back in Houston. Anna and I are going to join the big protest march and do our part. It’s just something we have to do.”
    Again, Mr. McMillian tried to be temperate. “Paige, I don’t think traveling the roads would be prudent. Really, sweetie, for your own safety I don’t think you should go. Besides, your mom and I just got you back – the thought of your leaving so soon would crush both of us.”
    “We can take care of ourselves,” Anna had countered, obviously informed about the plan. “We’ll just be gone a few days. You weren’t there, Daddy. You don’t understand. Paige and I have to do something… we have to help those people we left behind.”
    Paige’s next statement ended the debate. “You and mom are trying so hard to help us heal, and we love you for it. Taking this trip to Washington is the best therapy for both of us. We have to feel like we’re a part of something, like we are part of the solution. Besides, we were cooped up inside of what was essentially a prison for months. Going cross-country and having a little freedom will feel good.”
    Reluctantly, Mr. and Mrs. McMillian agreed, the concerned father handing over his truck keys.
    “Thanks, but no thanks,” Paige surprised him again. “We want to take the bus. We want to look out the windows and see the countryside roll by.” 
    And so they did.
    Two days later, Mr. McMillian waved goodbye to his two daughters, both of their faces pressed against the