“What’s wrong? What is it?”
But she isn’t rubbing her shoulder anymore. She’s clutching at her chest. Her breath is quick, and she’s paler than I’ve ever seen her.
“Hey!” I shout at whoever will hear me. “Help! Someone help!” Rocky Horror sees what’s happening and shouts that he’s getting Dr. Jenn. Andrew is immediately at my side.
“What happened?”
“She fell,” I say.
She manages to gasp, “Get the... kids away.”
I turn to see a group of them watching us, their faces masks of fear and worry.
“Andrew, the kids.”
He turns and sees exactly what she means. “Stay with her.”
“I will.”
And he’s gone. I hear him, Amy, and Cara trying to calm the kidsbehind me, but I’m more focused on Daphne.
“It’s okay,” I say to her. “Dr. Jenn will be here soon, okay?” I hold her hand. It’s wet, and her grasp seems so strong.
She looks at me, her eyes wide and her skin gray and wet from the rain. Her breathing comes in sharp inhalations. Then one long exhale.
She doesn’t breathe in again. Her hand goes limp in mine.
“No, Daphne, wait!” I place the heel of my hand on her chest and start compressing. This was something my mom taught me well before the superflu, in case anyone ever collapsed near me when I was on the bus or subway on the way to school. She gave me a list of songs that were between 100 and 120 beats per minute and taught me how to do chest compressions until help got there, and to teach someone else when I got tired.
I thought it would be funny choosing “Crazy in Love” by Beyoncé, but it’s not. I listen to the beat of the song in my head as I push down on Daphne’s chest.
“I’m here!” Dr. Jenn slides to a stop, crouching down across from me in the rain, which is growing heavier. “Did you see what happened?”
“She was asleep, I helped her stand, and she seemed fine but then she fell.”
“Was she complaining of any pain?” She reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me as she puts two fingers against Daphne’s throat.
“Her shoulder and neck. She said it was from sleeping on the ground.”
She points a flashlight in Daphne’s eyes and lets go of my hand.I take that to mean I can continue compressions, but Dr. Jenn grabs my hands again.
“She’s gone, Jamie.” She reaches out to close Daphne’s eyes, then sits back on her heels and lets out a long sigh. “She might have thought it was from sleeping on the ground, but it sounds like she had a heart attack.”
A heart attack. That’s so... mundane. We all survived a superflu—a superflu with a near-100-percent mortality rate, in which we were in direct contact with people who died from it. Most survivors believe we’re immune. We’re supposed to worry about escaped zoo animals and other survivors with guns and natural disasters and serial killers playing the Mexican hat dance. Not something as simple as a heart attack.
Dr. Jenn stands up and puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
I thank her and stand, then walk over to Andrew. He already knows what I’m going to say before I say it, and his face scrunches up into a look of grief. I pull him into a hug and let him cry into my chest as I whisper over and over that I’m sorry.
Andrew
WE LEAVE DAPHNE WHERE SHE FELL, JUSTfor the night. We cover her with a blanket and spend the evening trying to console the kids. Most of them fall asleep pretty quickly once they get the tears out. But some—Taylor and the Kid especially—can’t sleep.
In the morning, Jamie wakes me up and right away I realize it’s not early. The kids are all awake and it looks like I’m the last one up.
“What time is it?” I ask, still feeling groggy. My eyes burn with exhaustion, and it’s started to rain harder.
“A little after ten.”
