The Deadliest Strain

Chapter Thirty-Four

A tarp was pulled over Philip's body. Weights were used to hold the corners down. No one wanted to get too close to where the program director lay. Even pulling that plastic over him, with the wind whipping around, had seemed like madness.

Josh crouched on the deck, his knees to his chest, his back resting against one of the storage places that held the life jackets on the boat. A helicopter continued to circle overhead. From down here, he could see the TV station's markings on the side. He wondered if his mom was watching them on the news right now. She'd be worried, and he felt sad about that. But he didn't want to stand up and wave or doing anything stupid that would send him downstairs with everyone else.

One of the mothers had been really bossy and had gathered all the kids like a herd of sheep. Everyone who had not touched Philip had gone downstairs — the parents, too. But Dan and Josh had refused to go. Their fathers were on deck, and no one could force them. They'd promised to keep their distance from the people left on deck. Josh wouldn't let his dad out of his sight. From here, he could tell there was nothing wrong with him yet. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with any of the five people who'd been close to Philip.

He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Philip dead. He'd never seen anyone dead before. He'd never even had a pet that had died.

The way people treated him after he was diagnosed with cancer, Josh knew they thought he'd die. He didn't like pain. He hated feeling sick to his stomach, the way he did after some of the treatments. He hadn't been too crazy about losing his hair. The missing-school part wasn't too bad, and he'd actually liked the attention he got from everyone the few days that he was allowed to go to class. But beyond that, he hadn't really thought too much about dying.

He looked at Philip again. He wondered if Philip had parents, or a wife, or kids. They'd be really sad. Josh knew that, more than dying himself, he'd hate to lose anyone in his family. Definitely, he'd hate that more than dying. Philip didn't seem to be in any kind of pain.

Josh saw his friend Dan come up on deck. He'd sneaked down there a couple of minutes ago to get something. Josh wondered if Dan had been afraid and wanted to get as far away as he could from the dead body.

"They're all gathered in the girls' bunk room," Dan said, sitting down next to Josh.

"What are they doing?"

The other boy shrugged. "I don't know… holding hands and praying, I guess. I didn't go in there. The door was closed."

Josh looked at his dad again. He was sitting against the railing, talking to Dan's father. Josh's mom made them do some praying as a family and that wasn't too bad. Especially at first, when he'd been told he had cancer. Josh thought it always made her feel better, and that was what was important. When she was happy, Josh was happy.

Dan took something out of his pocket.

"What did you get?" Josh asked.

"Our digital camera," the other boy said excitedly.

"What are you gonna take pictures of?"

"Everything. Everyone. Philip's body. Your dad and my dad. The divers. The helicopter up there. When the coast guard shows up, I'm taking pictures of them, too. I think I'll be able to sell these pictures later for a ton of money. You know… to magazines and stuff."

"Maybe I should take pictures, too," Josh said.

"Why not? I think there'll be lots of money to go around. If you want, we can sell them together and split the money."

Josh paused for a minute, wondering if he should feel guilty about taking pictures. But it wasn't like he could do something other than just sitting there. He looked at his dad. He was still fine, and he was still talking. His mom always said it was the salesman in him. He was never short on conversation.

"Okay, I'm sneaking down to get my camera, too."

"Hurry back."

Josh tried to not bring any attention to himself as he slipped through the door and went downstairs. Dan was right. The door to the bunk room where the girls stayed was closed. He tried to be especially quiet going by that door. No way did he want to get dragged in there. Once in the men's cabin, he had no trouble finding their digital camera. He liked to take pictures, so there were already some hundred or so photos on there.

He stuffed the camera into his sweatshirt pocket and his fingers brushed against something else. He pulled out the Strep-Tester that his dad had been trying to get him to use before. Josh had forgotten all about it. He must have stuffed it in his pocket on the way upstairs. He looked at the thing. The pink circle part of it had burst. It was covered with lint from his pocket now.

"Guess you're a goner." He crumpled up the tester.

Funny, he thought, with everything that was going on upstairs, he'd totally forgotten about his cold. He convinced himself that his throat was better, too. It didn't matter; the coast guard would probably be picking them up soon, anyway.

He threw the tester into the trash bin attached to the bulkhead. As he did, though, his gaze caught on something else at the bottom of the bin. It was another Strep-Tester. He crouched down next to the garbage can. He didn't want to touch it. His mom had drilled into him forever about germs, and he'd seen how nervous everyone was about touching Philip. He went and got a pencil from his father's bag and used it to move a couple of pieces of tissue from around it. The Strep-Tester flipped over. It had turned blue.

"Philip did have strep."