This Plague of Days, Season Two (The Zombie Apocalypse Serial) by Robert Chazz Chute

several minutes while he switched screens on the iPad. When he turned the device around, the video was a security camera’s view of Jaimie giving refugees masks at the west gate the night before.
    “I talked to the nurse who worked intake last night. I understand James does not talk.”
    Jack took her time pulling a chair from the bar. It was high and, when she sat, she looked down on the doctor. She sipped her Coke before replying. “I’m guessing you’re Dr. Merritt?”
    “Oh, yes. Yes, I am! I would think that was clear. Didn’t Ogilvy — ”
    “Sure. Your charm is legendary. What’s with those bodies down there, hanging in the sun?”
    “Oh, that’s not my doing, I assure you. That’s on the military. If you have objections, you could take it up with General Emery. The last person who objected is over top of the sign marked ‘Sedition’.”
    “This makes no sense,” Anna said. “For months we’ve been told to stay in our homes and avoid human contact. Now you’ve got us all packed tight.”
    Merritt shrugged. “The situation is fluid. We know things you don’t know. If trouble comes, and I’m sure it will, you’ll be glad we are behind walls in a defensible position. If an attack were to come here, we have containment. I’m assured the military can take all comers from their fortified positions.”
    “Aren’t you concerned about dead bodies spreading disease to all those people?”
    Merritt smiled. “As a matter of fact, I insisted they take the convicted down every couple of days. And every couple of days, there are new criminals to take their place, hanging by a rope.”
    “And what do you want with my son?”
    Merritt reddened and cleared his throat. “I would think that’s also clear… Jacqueline , is it?”
    “Mrs. Spencer.”
    “Well, folks, there are dogs that detect seizures before they happen. There are dogs that detect cancer early, by smell. Or, at least, we think it’s an odor they detect. It seems your son has a similar talent that we need to fight this thing.”
    Theo whispered in his son’s ear. “Can you fight the surveillance state and officious doctors, Jaimie?”
    Jaimie almost smiled. Quoth was a great word, but he liked the feel of officious . Officious…of fishes…of vicious. Of vicious fishes.
    Merritt sat back in his chair, eyes darting. “I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot with you people. The demands of my position…well…” He reached under his desk, poked around a moment and came up with a pint of fresh, red cherries. He placed them on the desk and invited the Spencers to eat with a wave of his hand. “You won’t get that in the mess tent, so I suggest you indulge while you can.”
    Jack sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “No, thanks.With all those people down there eating MREs, I wouldn’t feel good about that.”
    Jaimie nearly knocked his mother over as he pounced on the box of cherries and stalked back to the window to eat alone.
    Jack sighed and blew hair out of her eyes.
    Merritt smiled. “Smart boy. Your son intrigues me. How often does he speak?”
    “It’s sporadic and in his own time. He works on his own clock that only matches up with normal when he wants it to. Even then, unless you love Latin phrases or confusing detours, I don’t think you’ll find Jaimie is all that employable.”
    “You should know, I want to use Jaimie for a very good cause.”
    “If you’re looking to persuade me, Dr. Merritt, don’t use the word ‘use’ in any context that involves my son.”
    Jaimie chewed the cherries one at a time. They were delicious. The way they felt in his mouth reminded the boy of words that had the same tart, yet sweet, taste under a smooth exterior: Magna cum laude, toxicity, foxglove and hemlock.
    “Your son did something amazing last night, Mrs. Spencer. It’s something we can’t replicate yet. Of the five refugees Jaimie identified, four of them came down with the flu overnight. I’m still waiting on