The bus driver stood at the top of the stairs yelling for everyone to bring their cell phones with them, that if they didn’t bring their phones, they might not be able to get medical care and food in the future. Several people broke from the line and ran home for their phones.

The seats were still damp from the germ-killing chemical mix applied to them, but Elliott and Rose sat anyway. He put his arm around her, trying to keep her warm in the late November chill.

The roads were empty. The bus joined a convoy of other buses that barreled through Atlanta, past parked cars and empty sidewalks where bits of trash tumbled in the wind. Parked police cars with flashing lights blocked them from taking any other route. Police in riot gear lined the streets, yelling and pointing at anyone on foot. It was a bizarre tour of a city on lockdown, a city that a few hours ago had been free—and was now something very different.

After a few turns, Elliott knew where they were headed.

The FEMA tents outside the Georgia Dome confirmed his suspicion. The facility, home to the Atlanta Falcons football team, had been the largest domed stadium in the world when it first opened in 1992. It still ranked third.

It was also, however, no longer state-of-the-art. For that reason alone, the city was erecting a shiny new high-tech stadium right across the street—aptly dubbed the Mercedes-Benz Stadium. It was due to open in the next year.

Elliott would have expected the towering cranes to be still on a Sunday afternoon, but they were working feverishly, hoisting up parts of the stadium’s retractable roof. It appeared they were trying to finish it, and quickly.

In so many ways, downtown Atlanta was the perfect place to conduct a quarantine. With Phillips Arena across the street, the authorities had three large stadiums in which to separate the population. Elliott imagined FEMA tents covering Centennial Olympic Park nearby, operations stations and administrative quarters set up in the Omni Hotel, and a command center at the CNN Center. The massive covered parking decks in the area were perfect for staging supplies. And if it was needed, the Georgia World Congress Center—the third largest convention center in the US, with nearly four million square feet of floor space—was also near, as were the Georgia Aquarium and the College Football Hall of Fame.

Ahead, a figure wearing a positive pressure personnel suit, or space suit, stood outside a FEMA tent directing traffic. It was unnerving to see someone wearing the suit in downtown Atlanta.