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tidbits of what we’d heard on the news, then I told her I was tired and had to go.
    I called Dave and got his voice mail. Cursing, I closed the phone. People who were okay would be answering their phones to let people know they were okay.
    I couldn’t lose Dave. I couldn’t lose Annie. That was all there was to it. I’d suffered my losses. Maybe that was a selfish way to look at it, but I didn’t care. I was already too alone; my twin sister and my wife were gone, the core of my inner circle carved away. On top of that, when I lost Lorena a lot of my friends went as well. They’d been her friends, it turned out, or they’d been couple-friends who came as a matching set and preferred their friends come in similar matching sets. After that I’d discovered I was no longer very good at making friends on my own. It had come as a surprise; I wasn’t painfully shy, but I was somewhat shy, and I learned that in adulthood that was enough.
    My agent Steve called my home phone, checking to see if I was okay. He’d grown worried when I didn’t answer my cell. Once again I related the story of my death and recovery. Steve interjected with “Oh my Gods” until I finished, then gave a low whistle.

    â€œUnbelievable. So glad you made it, my friend. Sounds like you’ve had a rough time.”
    For an instant the black water was rushing in again. “Do they know who did it yet? I haven’t seen anything on the news.”
    â€œThey haven’t figured it out. I’m thinking Al-Qaeda. My wife thinks anti-government right-wingers. I have a client who’s an army colonel, and he’s saying Russia.”
    â€œRussia? Why would he think that?” As soon as I asked I realized I didn’t care all that much.
    â€œThey’re the only ones known to possess weaponized anthrax—enough to kill everyone in the world several times over, in fact. The thing is, their supply was loaded onto tanker cars, covered with bleach, and buried on an island in the Aral Sea in 1988. Gorbachev had just signed a weapons treaty with the U.S., and didn’t want us to discover it.”
    â€œI just don’t see what they have to gain.”
    â€œNo, it doesn’t make any sense. The colonel also thought some of their supply could have been pilfered long ago and sold to some nut.”
    Some Nut. I’d be willing to put money on Some Nut being involved.
    â€œI’ll contact the syndicate and tell them there may be a delay on the strips we’re supposed to deliver Friday,” Steve said, trying to strike a tone that said the strips were not important in the scheme of things, but sounding panicked nonetheless.
    â€œOkay,” I said noncommittally. Right now the thought of working on the strip was like returning to my upside-down car with the water rushing in.

CHAPTER 5
    M oving southbound, Route 85 was deserted. I breezed along in the Avalon, my unease growing as I flew past mile upon mile of grinding, bumper-to-bumper traffic heading the other way. I had no idea how I’d get home once I reached Annie.
    I cleared a rise; the forest of skyscrapers that comprised the downtown area came into view. Dozens of helicopters, like giant bumblebees, drifted among the skyscrapers. My bowels loosened at the sight. I’d seen that skyline a thousand times, but today it looked foreign, like a battle zone in some war-torn country.
    When I reached the roadblocks at Baker Street I turned and drove along the perimeter, scanning the sidewalks, until I spotted a box sitting on a low concrete wall. Masks. I parked, plucked a mask out of the box as I went by, and slipped it on. It fit snugly over the bottom half of my face, made me feel both anonymous and oddly powerful. No anthrax spores could touch me now. I put my head down and walked, watching the frenetic activity out of the corners of my eyes.
    People in uniform were everywhere, shouting orders, clomping
boots, flashing