"I'm no psychologist, I'd be the first to admit," Brannigan went on reasonably. "I'm just a simple guy, you all know that. The last thing Tom Brannigan is, is some kind of intellectual. Sure I've read a book or two, but I believe at bottom in good old-fashioned common sense. Isn't that why we joined the community in the first place, to get back to the simple, basic issues and not get mixed up with all that nonsense outside? Look, set me straight if I'm wrong, but we have a good life here at Goose Lake. We've built it up from nothing and made it work by the sweat of our brow. We grow our own food and see to our own needs." His blue eyes in their brown crinkles were so sincere it hurt. "Is anybody seriously telling me that something is wrong with us? Because, to be honest, I don't see it. What I
Nick was staring at the wall, his face stiff and tight. His eyes didn't flicker when Brannigan said:
"Now Dr. Power here, who we all know ain't a medical doctor--and Dr. Detrick likewise--in my opinion are getting uptight over nothing at all. And judging from the rest of you I'd say you go along with me. Am I right or am I right?"
"You're not only blind, Tom," Cheryl said. "You're stupid as well--"
Nick held up his hand. "Tom, listen to me. If you don't wake up to what's happening you're heading for trouble--and you're going to drag the rest of us with you whether we like it or not."
"Aw bullshit--this is a load of crap and you know it. Godammit, we're
"What about your son, Tom?" Nick said quietly. "Are he and some of the other young men behaving normally in your opinion?"
If someone had stabbed a pin into Brannigan he couldn't have reacted more sharply.
"What're you getting at? What d'you mean?"
"You haven't noticed his influence over the others and the way they've been acting?"
"I don't know what the hell you're going on about," Brannigan said coldly. Those crinkly blue eyes had turned to arctic ice.
Nick glanced at Cheryl and released ah audible sigh. Then he turned and looked Brannigan straight in the face. "I didn't want this to get personal, Tom, but it has to be said. Baz leads the other kids into all kinds of troublemaking and everyone but you seems to know it. I hate saying this--"
"Then don't say it!" Brannigan's voice was flat as a whipcrack. "I don't make remarks about your kid, so don't start on mine. It's none of your fucking concern."
"It is if it disrupts the life of the community."
"Jesus," Brannigan snorted, "you goddamn English." He'd flushed a darker brick red. "Like to think of yourselves as everybody's conscience, don't you, you and your prissy high-minded ways." He pointed a thick forefinger like the barrel of a gun. "Let me tell you, what Baz does is my affair, not yours, and don't forget it. Do you think I need
"That means you don't know," Nick said in the same quiet voice.
Brannigan's square jaw jutted. "Know about what?"
"Baz and his friends are on a big drug kick. They're eating them like jelly beans."
A pulse throbbed visibly in Brannigan's temple. His neck swelled. He swayed forward in his chair, a fist half-raised.
But it was Cheryl who said blankly, "The kids are on drugs? Nick, are you certain?"
Nick nodded without speaking, watching Brannigan.
"How many of the kids? All of them or just a few?" Cheryl said. She really wanted to come straight out and ask if Dan was one of them, but daren't. Had she been as stupid and blind as Tom Brannigan? If it was true it explained quite a lot that had been puzzling and worrying her about Dan. His attitude. His moods. His erratic behavior.
"I'm warning you, Power." Brannigan was trembling, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't you come making accusations about my boy. I see your game all right. You're out to cause trouble. Well I'm telling you here and now for the first and last time to keep your fucking nose--"
The door crashed open and Nick's wife stood wilting against the light. Her face was in silhouetted shadow, but they didn't need to see it to know that something was badly wrong. Cheryl felt the nausea churn in her stomach.
Nick was on his feet, staring at his wife. "What is it, Jen?"
Her voice sounded like an ancient gramophone record, indistinct and scratchy, periodically fading so that some of the words were lost. "It's Jo . . . please come, she's been . . . horrible and I can't believe . . . please come now. ... oh please . . ."
She would have fallen to the pine floor if Nick hadn't caught her in time.
22
The genetically adapted virus containing tetrachlorodibenzo-paradi-oxin, developed in the Zone 2 laboratories on Starbuck Island, had been spectacularly effective in contaminating the most densely populated areas of Africa, Asia, the subcontinent of India, China, and the Far East.
