First Weeks After

by Jay Vielle

  “So what’s the prognosis?” he said.

  “Verified. No signs of active virus, positive results for antibodies, no change in physical traits. Ray, we’ve had this one on the table for a few hours now, and evening is coming. We both know from the one we trapped in Ft. Detrick that it won’t survive like this. It has to feed, and we can’t keep it sedated here forever,” Wendy said. “Do we have a plan for it?”

  “Can we induce a coma, keep it here longer?” the Colonel asked.

  “We don’t really know. Nobody does. We’re in uncharted waters right now. We can try anything you want, but we need to discuss logistics. Do we want to try and induce a coma and then try the PLX-R18? If we don’t induce a coma, do you have a place to keep it? Do you have something to feed it? I mean, as awful as this sounds, it’s not really human anymore, and this kind of work is done more in zoos than at the Pentagon. It was nice that you had this lab at your disposal here, but it’s inadequate for really testing these things,” she said.

  “I know. I wanted to help Jake, so we jumped right into this. But if we expand the tests, we need a facility.”

  “So what do we do?” asked Wendy.

  “I got that handled as well,” said the Colonel. “The same folks that provided the PLX-R18 are setting us up a mobile lab and containment unit for the creature.

  “What? How’d you get that so fast?” asked Wendy.

  “20th Brigade, CBRNE has mobilized a unit dedicated just to this project. They are out of Fort Belvoir, so they’ll be here literally within the hour. They already know everything we’re going to need and what your two experiments are,” the Colonel said.

  “I’m blown away by this. How is this possible?” asked Wendy. “And what is ‘ci-burney’?”

  “CBRNE—often just pronounced ci-burney—is a permanent brigade trained to deal with Chemical, Biological, Radioactive, Nuclear and Explosive materials. They are the operative team to do the kind of stuff we did today. Those two units that worked with us at the Mall—Charlie and Echo? Those were mini-units of CBRNE. They exist to do this kind of stuff,” the Colonel said. “They can be sent anywhere to operate in a mobile unit, and they also have a group that sets up residence at Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland.”

  “Why haven’t I heard more about them? I worked with you at Ft. Detrick for months,” Wendy said.

  “You’re a civilian scientist. They’re military. I’m bridging the gap. You never had to encounter them before, so there was no reason to be acquainted with them yet. When we worked together at Detrick, we were doing the thinking and the studying. When we got hit so quickly by the Russian bombs during that first volley, there wasn’t time for me to contact anyone to mobilize. By then we were in a very sudden world war, and I had a different assignment. After the smoke cleared and I left you guys on the highway on I-66, the army reassigned me immediately. I was given the reins to head this unit up specifically because of our exposure to and limited study of the mutates that we did those few days in Detrick. The government, Hell the whole country—is in crisis mode now, and still at war, but the problem these mutates present is squarely on my plate. And now your plate as well.”

  “Wow. You’re pretty big time, Ray,” said Wendy.

  “We’re big time, pretty lady. Hoo-ah,” said the Colonel, snapping off a salute and smiling wide.

  Just then Jake, the boys, and I all entered the room, HAZMAT suits on and ready to roll. Wendy and the Colonel looked up at us. “Didn’t waste any time, I see,” said the Colonel. “I like that.”

  “Reporting for duty, sir,” said Jake.

  The Colonel explained to us that we were going back into the center of Washington to try and abduct more mutates. He explained our working relations with the CBRNE units, and how this time we would be much less involved physically and acting more as eyes on the street.

  “Why is that, Colonel?” I asked. “You had Jake doing most of the work last time. You said those two units were there just to observe and assist. What’s changed?”

  “Well, the urgency and the targets, for starters Eddie,” said the Colonel. “Last time, I didn’t know I was going to run into you all. Finding out that Laura was a mutate right here only a few miles away caught me off guard. I had to units ready to observe, but not to do anything else except kill the mutates, which suddenly wasn’t our objective anymore. I deferred to Jake because I knew his abilities and because of your closeness to what was essentially our target. I felt I owed you all that much. Now that we have decided to study rather than terminate these creatures outright, the CBRNE group can restructure for the new objectives: detain, obtain, and restrain for study. “

  “I love how you military types come up with those rhymes so fast,” said Eddie.

  “You all will ride along with me. Wendy will stay here and guide a large new CBRNE unit that is coming to set up mobile laboratory and containment structures for any mutates we get. Units Echo and Charlie have already been resupplied for capturing rather than eliminating the mutates. You all will be eyes on the street. We want to catch your mom most of all. If Wendy’s hunch turns out to be right and it can save your mother, I can’t imagine a better ending to this story,” the Colonel said.

  “Me neither,” I agreed.

  “Wendy, I’m going to get geared up. I’ll leave you here with first Sergeant Ambrosian to work with CBRNE. Then Jake, Eddie, the boys and I will head back into the city and see if we can snag ourselves some mutates, especially Laura Fisher,” the Colonel said. “Jake, if you’re up for it, what do you say we take two vehicles?”

  “I always preferred to drive,” Jake said.

  “Colonel, can we ride with you?” asked Tommy.

  “What?” remarked Vinny.

  “I just thought it might be cool to see how this works from your end,” Tommy said. “I mean, I’m at VMI and will be entering the military when this war’s all over, if not sooner.”

  “Well I’m not,” said Vinny.

  “You can ride with me, Tommy. Vinny, go with whomever you like. Jake, we’ll need mobility, so we’ll trade out the Humvie for a couple of Jeeps. I’ll have them brought up to the same lot we came in on. Meet you there in fifteen minutes. I’d like to get some time in before it gets too dark.”

  “Roger that, Colonel,” Jake said. “What about the equipment? Tranq guns and darts?”

  “Not our job this time, Marine. We’re prepared for this one. Charlie and Echo units are properly equipped with tranquilizer darts, guns, and gear for securing anything we are successful in obtaining. Our job is seek and find,” the Colonel said.

  “Any mutate we see?” asked Jake.

  “Any mutate we see. But especially Mrs. Fisher. I’m going to give you a walkie-talkie. You’re to call in to either of the units or to me when you spot something. You’ll need a call sign. I’m Eagle One. Did you have one you wanted to use?”

  “He’ll take Badger-One,” Wendy said smiling from across the room.

  “Badger-One it is,” said the Colonel, handing Jake the walkie. “Channel Five. You can explain that call sign to me on our way down the hall. Time to move out, boys.”

  Jake, The Colonel, Tommy, Vinny and I all walked down the hall back towards the loading dock where two sturdy-looking Jeeps awaited us. The sun was starting to set, and it was about seven-thirty on a warm June day. There was a sense of purpose and a bit of a swagger to our walk this time, like the movements of men who had been there and done this before. We knew our objective and we were firm in resolution.

  I felt like I was in a movie. All we needed now was some slow motion for the full effect.

  CHAPTER 22

  “So now before we get too far, folks,” the Colonel said, halting our swaggered progress, we all need to be inoculated.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You need to be vaccinated for the Ebola virus. We’re going to be around mutates, which we know are carriers,” the Colonel said. “I’ve already had mine, and Wendy got hers right as we w
ere leaving. Ideally, we should have had this a month ago, but it is what it is.”

  “What do you mean a month ago?” I asked.

  “I thought there was no Ebola vaccine, Colonel,” said Jake.

  “One at a time,” the Colonel said. “First, Jake’s question. Essentially you’re right—there is no official Ebola vaccine. But NIAID and the Walter Reed Army Institute of Research evaluated something called rVSV-ZEBOV that has done a really nice job. We use an Ebola gene inserted into a vesicular stomatitis virus. It produces a very robust immune response.”

  “And now my question,” I said. “What do you mean a month ago?”

  “Usually it takes a little under a month for that immune system response to reach the levels we like to see. But here, with the help of the CBRNE, we’ve come up with a little something that acts as a catalyst. You’ll start responding immediately. If your exposure isn’t too overwhelming, you should be fine,” the Colonel said.

  “Should be?” I asked nervously.

  “Eddie, we’re in HAZMAT suits for a reason,” the Colonel said. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

  Jake patted me on the back and offered up his tight-lipped smile that he usually reserves for when we’re really fucked but have to charge in anyway. We stopped at a room down the hall from the lab, and the Colonel instructed us to peel off one of the sleeves of the suit. Two uniformed medics gave us all big needles. BIG needles. They actually hurt quite a bit.

  “Holy shit, Colonel,” I yelled. “That thing was a spear, not a needle!”

  “It is a good-sized needle. We had more success from higher doses of the vaccine with the rVSV-ZEBOV. Sorry Eddie. But you’ll be fine,” the Colonel reassured me.

  We suited back up and made our way down to the loading dock, where two Jeeps awaited us.

  “Alright, Tommy is with me, Vinny is with you, Jake,” the Colonel said. “Eddie, who do you want to go with?”

  “I’ve been with ugly over there for too long. Mind if I hop in with you two?” I said to the Colonel. He raised his eyebrows, surprised, and nodded and waved me in.

  “Be careful, Colonel. Ten minutes with him and he’ll have you listening to Cher,” said Jake with his wise-ass smile.

  “Just Cher?” said the Colonel. “No Sonny?”

  “Straight old people. My penance in this life is being surrounded by straight old people,” I said, hopping in the back seat.

  The sun was setting over the Potomac, and the red, pink and orange hues were dancing on the water beautifully. It almost made you forget you were in a war zone hunting for monsters. But we were, and as we pulled out of the Pentagon I could see the 20th CBYRNE brigade setting up tents out by the remote delivery facility. It became extremely clear that we were, in fact, in a war zone. We were leaving the center of military operations and defense in the capital city of a country that was at war with over half a dozen countries, several of which had dropped enough bombs and wreaked enough havoc that our communication systems were down and our leaders were nowhere to be found. I suddenly had so many questions for the Colonel. Where was the president? Where was Congress, or the Joint Chiefs of Staff? Was there a plan for retaliation? Had we already retaliated with our ‘Star Wars’ program? So many questions, that under normal circumstances, I could pick any of a dozen television channels or websites that would have answered immediately and in detail, but for now were silent. How much was planned? How much was on purpose?

  I reminisced about the time the country had gone into lockdown due to the coronavirus. In some ways, there were many similarities. Nobody was certain of anything, no single message was coming out to people, folks had no guidance, and individuals had to step up and take action themselves. Back then it was the governors that did it. Now, it was anybody. This week it was us. Me, Jake, his sons, Wendy Yubashiri, and a savvy Colonel who had taken the reins of at least one major wartime challenge that nobody—I mean nobody—could have foreseen.

  But there were differences too—big ones. During the whole world covid-19 pandemic we had information. Too much information. Too many channels, websites, and opinions. It was like listening to a hundred different songs at the same time and trying to select the one that was right. It was maddeningly noisy, and we had nowhere to go, stuck for months in our homes having to deal with the psychological torture of indecision and claustrophobia. This time, parts of the country seemed to be operating as if nothing happened. When we went into the Shenandoah Valley to pick up Tommy and Vinny, it was like business as usual, except that the colleges had let out--which some of them were starting to do anyway that late into the spring.

  But Frederick, Maryland was a ghost town. There were abandoned vehicles in places, dead bodies in others, mutates running loose, and no living people to be seen. Washington was similar, except that I hadn’t seen any dead bodies. We had stopped at the National Arboretum and briefly hopped off onto docks near Nationals Park, but we hadn’t seen any dead bodies. That was a mystery to me, and considering how tightly-packed everyone is in the city--especially this one--it was a question that was gnawing at me. So I asked it.

  “Colonel, I have a weird question. A little morbid, but one I need to ask you,” I said.

  “Fire away, Eddie. What is it?” the Colonel asked. I looked for a moment at Tommy, wanting to spare him the harsh reality of the world he planned to enter after graduating from Virginia Military Institute next year. Then decided he needed to know what he was getting into, which included details that were gory, morbid, and real.

  “When we picked you up in Frederick, there were dead bodies there,” I said. “And when we went to get the horses to ride down to the waterfront, we saw dead bodies as well.”

  “You’re wondering why you don’t see any here?” the Colonel asked.

  “Yes. How is that even possible?” I asked. “Washington is much bigger than Frederick. Even with more mutates scavenging, it can’t be like this logically.”

  “CBYRNE again. They’ve been hard at it since the bombings last week. They have a very tough job. Many tough jobs,” he said.

  “Colonel, D.C. has over 700,000 people. There’s just no way they got all that cleaned up. I mean, I remember reading about Nazi Germany, and why they went to crematoriums, and the logistics of it all.”

  “CBYRNE started with public places. People out in plain sight, on the street, and in parks, plazas, anything that could be seen walking around. It’s only a tiny percentage. Think about it—when you heard that bombs were starting to drop in the East Coast, what did you do?” asked the Colonel.

  “I hunkered down at the high school where I work,” I said.

  “So, you went inside?” the Colonel said. “Into your safe place, right?”

  “Yes, well, I was already inside, but yes,” I answered.

  “Streets were pretty empty to start with. Relatively few were either trapped outside, or chose to stay there. People were panicking for sure, but they were generally doing it inside. CBYRNE removed the people they could see first. It helps with morale for one, and it’s easier to do secondly. The job is far from done. The reality is that most people died of the radiation and virus combo that they got hit with almost immediately. The really gruesome job is still ahead. Eventually we’re going to have to bust through the doors of apartments, houses, private dwellings. We will be removing bodies for years, Eddie. Before too long, we will be removing skeletons.”

  An eerie silence prevailed for a few minutes and I looked at Tommy’s face for a reaction, but there was none. He might be emotional regarding his mother, but in most other topics he had inherited his father’s Stoic aspect. Soon we were in familiar territory again, having crossed the Potomac and pulled alongside the National Mall. Jake was trailing behind us with Vinny, and both cars were slowing as we got closer to the Washington Monument.

  “Okay, Tommy, let’s see how military you can be,” said the Colonel. “Get your father on the walkie for me. It should already be on the right channel.” Tommy picked up the walkie and w
ithout missing a step, jumped right in.

  “Badger One, Badger One, this is Eagle One, do you copy?” Tommy said. I smiled at that. I had known Tommy when he was a high school student, and he sounded more grown up just then than any other time I could remember. I heard a chuckle on the other end of the connection, as Jake laughed into his response. He was apparently having the same reaction to his son using military jargon.

  “Ha, copy Eagle One. This is Badger One, over.”

  “Ask your dad to pull up next to us. Then we’ll coordinate where we want to go,” said the Colonel.

  “Badger One, Eagle One wants you to pull up next to us to coordinate, over,” said Tommy, allowing himself a slight smile.

  “Copy that, Eagle One. Badger one out,” said Jake, as he pulled up next to us grinning. Just then a voice came booming out of the walkie.

  “Eagle One, this is Echo One. Who the hell is the Badger?”

  “Echo One, copy that. Badger is just an old jar-head we allowed along for the ride,” said the Colonel.

  “Eagle One, is that advisable?” said the voice.

  “Echo One, I am understating things a bit. Badger took down both targets on the last mission by himself and is a veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Despite the shape of his head, we are lucky to have him with us, over,” said the Colonel smiling. “He is also the husband of our most valuable target.”

  “Roger that, Eagle One. Welcome back, Badger One,” said the voice.

  “Much obliged, Echo One. Badger out,” Jake said.

  “These guys don’t know I’m here?” asked Jake.