The Chaos Function by Jack Skillingstead

Author:Jack Skillingstead
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2019-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Olivia emerged gradually from a swamp of surrealistic dreams: Jacob was nailed to a table in a stone room beneath the earth, a room ankle-deep in blood. Brian’s face floated on the blood, a flimsy skin mask, eyeless, with straps attached to its ears like the straps on an N-95 filter mask. A starving child held a granola bar in one fist and a lantern in the other, while a cat slopped around her legs in the syrup-thick blood. “Qetta, qetta,” the cat said.

Someone touched Olivia’s shoulder. “Hey, how you doing?”

She tried to reply. But her lips and tongue had temporarily forgotten how to make meaningful noise together. She blinked. The migraine aura was gone. Brian’s face hovered, a big white planet.

“You fainted.” Planet Bri put his glasses back on.

“Uh-huh.” Her head hurt, but not murderously so. She sniffed at a very bad smell and touched the front of her shirt, which was damp.

“You threw up,” Brian said. “I cleaned it off with a wet towel.”

“My hero.” She rubbed her eyes, looked at him. He hadn’t shaved since they departed Seattle. His lip was puffy, crusted with dried blood. She reached out, hovered her fingertips over the lip. “What happened?”

“I ran into a wall,” Brian said. “She’s right over there.” He pointed.

Olivia carefully turned her head. Dee sat on the other bed, her back propped against the wall, holding a plastic cup of Chablis. Her filter mask lay on the bedside table, like one bra cup severed from its twin.

“Hey, no hard feelings,” Dee said.

Brian touched his puffy lip and winced. “Easy for you to say.”

In Aleppo, Olivia had gotten him killed. She had screwed up. Now she had a second chance, and she wouldn’t screw up again. Next time she was in the halo, she would scrutinize all her moves, calculate the collateral repercussions—find a way to preserve the future and Brian. There had to be another way of heading off the variola attack. She knew the move existed because it had to exist.

Or did she know only that she wanted it to exist?

What’s the first rule of relationship club? Don’t let the salesman through the door.

A toilet flushed, the faucet ran, and Alvaro emerged from the bathroom. “Dee, you have to keep your mask on.” His was still in place.

“These two aren’t even sick.”

“We don’t know who’s a carrier and who isn’t. We don’t know what’s in the air around us right now.” He gave Olivia an appraising look. “So, you’re better?”

“Still shaky. But yes, I’m better.”

Alvaro sat on the chair, glanced at his watch. “In the morning, you can try the link again. If that doesn’t work, I want you to take us to this Javadi person and his bunker. We can’t go anywhere tonight. There’s a curfew.”

Olivia pointed at the TV. “Can we have the news?”

“No.”

Surprised, Olivia asked, “Why not?”

“It’s pointless.”

She laughed, which hurt her head, so she stopped. “That’s your opinion. Your uninformed opinion.”

Alvaro shrugged. “I don’t watch the news, okay? It’s endless talk and depressing video.

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