“Pulling his necktie loose, he propped his feet up on the Colonial coffee table. It had been a hard, long night, and he felt as if he had been beaten up by three Polish muggers in a Turkish bath. The lavatory flushed, and Dick Bortolotti came out, wiping his hands on a towel. ‘Is there any of that beer going spare?’ he asked, coughing. ‘There’s a six-pack in the icebox,’ growled Garunisch. ‘I couldn’t face any breakfast.’ ‘What time is it?’ Garunisch peered at his watch. ‘Five-forty-five.’ Borto...lotti came back with a beer and sat down next to him. There was a large-scale map of Florida and Georgia on the coffee table, and it was marked in several places with red felt-tip pen. During the night, Garunisch, apart from the US Disease Control Center and the federal government, had been one of the best-informed people on the spread of the unstoppable plague. His members in hospitals all the way up the East Coast had been reporting outbreaks as they happened, and although he didn’t yet know that Miami had been completely sealed off by National Guardsmen, he did know that the hospital system there had virtually collapsed.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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