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Hazmat

I pulled my sweater down over my hands, trying to preserve whatever warmth I had left. I felt stupid standing there on the empty sidewalk. A car passed. I tried waving at it, but it didn't even slow down. I cursed Jess under my breath. Sure, I shouldn't have yelled at her like that, but how was I supposed to know she would leave me here? Here's your bus fare, XO, the note read. The bus was on a temporary detour and I was stuck hitchhiking.

The pavement rumbled somewhere in the distance, snapping me out of it long enough to fling my thumb out desperately. A grey sedan slowed to a halt in front of me. There were two people in the front, a man and a woman, university aged.

The woman leaned forward in the passenger seat. Her hair was blonde with bangs cut just above her eyes. She didn't trust me and she made no effort to hide it. "Youneed a ride?"

Yes. So badly."I just need to get to the next bus terminal."

The woman looked to thedriver. The sun glared in his glasses and I couldn't read his expression. It must have been good because then he smiled and said, "Hop in, we're going west."

The door handle stuck a little when I opened it. I flung my bag across the seats and climbed in. The windows were all rolled down, despite the chill.

"I'm Steve," the man gestured to the woman, "that's Catherine."

"Hi," she said without looking at me.

"Kayla."

Steve started the car again. "We decided to cut our trip short and head home early because of that, um, flu." We locked eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, it's crazy. I remember hearing about the first outbreak as a kid, it was awful."

Steve made a noise halfway between choking and laughing. He coveredit with a cough. "It-it was, yes."

I shut my mouth. The cool air between us solidified. Had I said something to offend them? I guess they could have lost family. I had seen photos from the outbreak as a kid. Descriptions of the infected people sounded like something out of a horror novel, not a real news story you'd watch on TV. A lot of people thought it was the end of the world, but no one else got sick. At least not until a couple days ago.

The car was quiet. My stomach was a pit; this was worse than meeting my boyfriend's parents. I looked out the window and tried to pretend I was on the other side of it. We were finally rolling out of the town I was stranded in. As much as I could call it a town, anyway; it seemed totally abandoned. The buildings gave way to open fields. We were surrounded by corn on both sides. It felt like we'd been driving for ages, but the clock hardly moved.

Eventually, Catherine broke the silence. "Oh, Steve, you've got to look at this! It's a recipe for something." She turned in her seat to face me; she seemed warmer than before. "We've been trying to learn to cook, you see. I bought a book and everything." She held up the thick book open on her lap.

"If only we could figure out how to get our oven working," Steve smiled at her. No trace of whatever he was feeling before.

She bumped his arm lightly and beamed, "I'll book-mark it."

Steve flipped on the radio to some ancient rock station. The corn had turned into cows by then. We drove on, with only slight discomfort, until we hit a traffic jam. The car next to us had a canoe strapped to the roof that jostled every time they moved.

I cleared my throat. "Is this normal March-break-traffic or what?"

Catherine shook her head, "it's not." Her tone signalled that that was the end of the conversation.

After a few minutes of inching along, like orderly snails, the source of the jam became apparent. It was some sort of traffic checkpoint. A plywood booth had been hastily assembled in the middle of the road, and cars were being directed to either side of it. The canoers steered very carefully to the left. Steve tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

When we finally got to the front, he slowed and leaned out his window. "Hi."

There was a man in the booth, wearing an orange vest. He smiled with too muchteeth. "You folks just passing through?"

"We cut our road trip short, I'm afraid. What's going on?"

"That's too bad. Well, I'm sure you've heard about the new cases of the disease. There's been one in this town coming up. No big deal, everyone's quarantining, but you should try to keep moving along until you get to the next town."

At least that explains the detour.

Steve kept smiling, but his lips pulled tighter. His eyes were the only clue of what was happening in his head. That and Catherine's shaky breathing. "What about the bus terminal?"

"There's a shuttle bus running for out-of-towners," the man in the vest said. He kept smiling. It irked me.

"Right," Steve gave a nod that was more of a hard blink. "We're staying in the Starlight Inn over in town, is that far enough away?"

"You'll be just fine. Have a nice day folks."

Steve's voice was flat. "You too."

As he drove away, he started tapping his hand on the steering wheel. I became suddenly worried I was in a car with fugitives. I figured the tension in the car would ease as we got further from the checkpoint, but that wasn't the case. He had rolled up the windows, at least, which was a small mercy.

A large bird, the kind that eats roadkill, flew overhead; I was worried it was a sign.

Catherine slammed her cookbook shut loudly, too loudly. She took a shaky inhale and spoke so quietly I could barely hear her, "Steve."

"I know." He looked at me in the rearview mirror. His eyes were dark. "Cat's a germaphobe."

I forced a chuckle. "I get it." I didn't really. "My uncle was too."

The window was more appealing than ever. I was sure they were just worried about the new outbreak. I was worried. It was a reasonable thing to be worried about.

"You heard him, it's contained," Steve's voice wavered ever so slightly.

Catherine still spoke at awhisper, "I don't like this."

Steve scanned around the car. He spotted what I did- a narrow dirt road off the highway. He glanced back at me, "is it ok if we stop for a minute? I need some air."

"Yeah, of course."

He moved to the left of the highway and turned. It was a narrow dirt road, running along a field. He pulled the car onto a grassy shoulder and parked. The first flowers of the year were peeking up out of the long grass. I worried, for a moment, about ticks.

"We should check the map." Catherine nodded toward the door, looking at Steve.

She and Steve opened their doors at almost the same time. They walked in front of the car, almost out of earshot, and settled next to a broken fence post. The map remained folded in Catherine's hands. Traffic had long thinned and we were completely alone. I knew getting out wouldn't be any better than staying in the car. There was nothing around but grass and sky; so much sky I thought I might be sick.

I could just barely hear when they started talking.

"Cat…"

"It's not happening again." I saw her bite her lip. "It isn't. It simply isn't." She reached across and squeezed his hand.

Steve paused for a moment, looking up at the too-big sky. After a while, he said, "it would be a hell of a coincidence, wouldn't it?"

Catherine smiled, but I swear I saw the sun glint off a tear on her cheek.

When they finally got back into the car, they were quiet. Steve started the car and pulled back onto the highway without any ceremony. I didn't know what to say; I didn't even know what had just happened with them. I supposed I must have been right about them losing family. We were only a few hours away from the town where the outbreak had happened. I busied myself with adjusting the strap on my bag. Looser, tighter. Looser, tighter. Catherine flipped the radio on again, a talk station this time.

I had never been more thankful than when we pulled into the bus terminal. Standing in a giant lot, was a big grey building with a large overhang. It looked like the architect had hada tight deadline. Another person in a vest asked us a dozen questions before they even let us park. Apparently only a few people in the nearby town were showing symptoms. This didn't make me feel any better.

I gathered my bag and stood awkwardly outside of the car. I had no idea what to say in this situation. "Thanks so much for the ride."

Steve smiled. It was practiced. "I'm sorry your vacation was even worse than ours."

At this, I saw the corners of Catherine's mouth curl into a smile. She said nothing, but she waved as I walked into the terminal.

The car blew up dust as they drove away.