Virus Hunters 2: A Medical Thriller

by Bobby Akart

  Kwon suddenly wrapped his arm through Harper’s and pulled her close.

  “What?” she asked, her eyes darting around to look for a threat.

  “Up ahead, just inside the entrance to that small store, are two men in suits and dark sunglasses. They are completely out of place for this residential area. We’re gonna duck down this side street and then look for another route to take us to the university.”

  They continued their steady pace, and when the opportunity arose, they dashed down the side street. As they did, the wail of a siren could be heard approaching them.

  “Now what?” asked Harper.

  “Stay calm. Eyes forward. Shorten your stride. We don’t need to look like we’re in a hurry.”

  The security police car slowed as it pulled alongside Harper and Kwon before abruptly speeding away.

  “Good call,” said Harper.

  “Listen, it’s easy to be paranoid. I like to call it a heightened state of awareness or even managed paranoia. The key is to act calm and disinterested, but don’t overplay it.”

  “I began to learn that last night,” Harper said.

  “I’ve been trained how to appear aloof and detached from my surroundings. It’s kept me alive, but it’s also kept me single.”

  Harper glanced over at Kwon’s face. For the first time, he showed a hint of emotion. Perhaps he was human after all.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Xinjiang University

  Urumqi, Xinjiang, China

  Kwon led the way with Harper close on his heels. The two sensed the greater police presence. The Communist Party didn’t rule with the same sadistic, iron fist that North Korea used, but every one of its citizens lived with a sense of fear of crossing those in power. The fact that both the security police and the military were sweeping the streets in search of someone who hadn’t committed a murder, much less a violent crime, was a testament to how important it was for them to crush dissent.

  “This will help,” said Kwon, pointing at a three-sided monument sign portraying a map of the campus and a legend of its buildings. He took a moment to get his bearings, and then he pointed at a three-story building on the far edge of the university adjacent to a park. “This is the School of Journalism and here is the closest dorm. It appears there’s a dorm in close proximity to each of the major fields of study. It’s just a hunch, but with a little luck, the nephew lives here.”

  Kwon traced his finger from the School of Journalism along the sidewalk adjacent to the park until he rested it on the nearest dormitory.

  “This is all we’ve got to go on,” said Harper as the two walked briskly across the open compound. They gave the campus security officers a wide berth and walked on the outskirts of the grassy area where dozens of students had gathered. “Somehow, we’ve gotta get lucky and convince one of these students to talk to us.”

  “Luck is predictable,” said Kwon as he picked up the pace. Since being noticed by the security police on the streets, his innate sense of urgency had kicked in. “You apply your experiences, street smarts, and preparation to limit your options. This improves your odds of getting lucky.”

  Harper raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Common sense told you to forget about interviewing hospital contacts or anyone in Dr. Zeng’s apartment building because those were logical stops for the police.”

  “Exactly. Of course, the nephew’s dorm is a logical place for the MSS to investigate, too. But these kids despise authority and would absolutely pretend they didn’t know Zeng Fangyu even if they were classmates.”

  “You think they’ll treat us differently?” asked Harper.

  “Well, yes. With a little luck.” Kwon smiled. He’d made an attempt at being funny twice in one day.

  Harper chuckled and the two made their way to the sidewalk, entering the School of Journalism. Kwon immediately began stopping students who made eye contact. Many refused to talk with him, but several at least said they didn’t understand. Growing frustrated, he considered a different tactic.

  “I look too much like a person of authority. I think you should try.”

  “Me? I don’t even know how to say hello in Chinese.”

  “That’s my point. Many of these students can speak conversational English. In fact, they’d love to speak with a genuine American. Let’s try the dorm, and instead of me approaching them, you do it.”

  “Kwon, are you sure about this?”

  “We’ve got nothing to lose. Just speak slowly and enunciate your words clearly. Don’t use contractions or slang and definitely don’t yell.”

  Harper tilted her head and a puzzled look came over her face. “Why would I yell?”

  “Because that’s what Americans do when they speak to someone from another country. They think they have to yell to get the non-English speaking person to understand. They’re not deaf.”

  Harper thought for a moment and realized Kwon was right. On all counts. She might have better luck with the students because they’d be curious about her and she was nonthreatening. And his point about yelling was well taken. She wondered if she’d been guilty of that in the past.

  They walked through a tree canopy and found the entrance to the dorm. There was a group of students hovering around the double doors, staring at a glass-enclosed bulletin board. A dorm administrator had just posted something inside it and was locking the door. The students gave him room, and once he entered the building, they crowded around to see what the post was about.

  Kwon and Harper inched closer. The excited voices of the students grabbed their attention.

  “They have been searching for Fangyu.”

  “I heard they destroyed his dorm room looking for something.”

  “He has disappeared.”

  “Is he in trouble?”

  “No, the notice says his uncle is looking for him.”

  “That cannot be true. He was with his uncle the other night. I saw them in the common area.”

  They spoke over one another, but Kwon clearly understood what they were saying. He whispered to Harper, “Now’s your chance. One of them knows the family. Remember, they’ll be helpful to you because—”

  “I’ve got this,” said Harper, cutting him off. The students appeared ready to disperse and she wanted to speak to them before they left. She confidently approached the group. The students weren’t wearing masks. She didn’t want to appear shady, so she removed her mask. She arrived behind them and announced herself.

  “Hello. Can somebody help me?”

  Their heads whipped around to observe Harper.

  She asked again, “Hi. I am looking for someone. Can you help?”

  A young woman stepped forward. “Are you an American?”

  “Yes, I am. My name is Eloise.” Harper winced. She immediately realized she was supposed to be someone else when in public. Hopefully, it wouldn’t matter.

  “Hello, Eloise. I am Sun. I like your shirt. We are all netizens.”

  “Yes, so is my friend. His name is Fangyu. Do you know him?”

  Now all of the students were crowded around Harper. They were assessing her, studying her face and her body language. Two of them spoke to her in Chinese, but she truthfully shrugged, indicating her inability to understand them.

  The young woman was about to answer when one of the male students at the back of the group spoke up in English.

  “Is this you?” he asked, pointing at the bulletin board.

  Harper towered over the students so she was able to view the post the young man was referring to. Next to the posting about Fangyu was a photograph of Harper at the airport with her mask on. Harper reached to pull her mask up and thought better of it. Out of nowhere, Kwon appeared by her side.

  He studied the posts and he tensed up. “Please, you must help us. Fangyu and his family are in grave danger. The MSS and Security Police are trying to locate them because Dr. Zeng spoke out against the Party.”

  He was taking a great risk exposing the purpose of their inquiry to the st
udents. However, he trusted these young people to keep quiet more than any other strangers he might encounter.

  Before anyone could answer, the glass doors to the dormitory burst open. The same dorm administrator who’d made the posting rushed into the opening. His cell phone was pressed to his ear as he spoke frantically to the party on the other end.

  “Go! You must go!” said the young woman who’d responded to Harper. “They will be coming for you now.”

  Harper didn’t give up. “Tell us where to look. We want to help them.”

  The young woman pulled them away from the bulletin board and the prying ears of the dorm administrator. She spoke under her breath. “Run through the woods. You can escape into the markets.”

  Sirens could be heard blaring in the background, growing louder and more numerous as they talked.

  “Then what?” asked Harper.

  “Stop! Now! Do not engage these people!” The administrator was shouting at the students while reporting Harper and Kwon’s presence to the Security Police.

  “Come on!” Kwon shouted as he grabbed Harper by the arm.

  She resisted him to ask the student another question. “Where is he?”

  “Under! He’s under!”

  Security Police cars were speeding into the administrative parking lot near the center of the campus. Students throughout the grassy areas had stopped to observe the activity.

  “Where?” asked a confused Harper. Then Kwon grabbed her by the hand and forcibly dragged her away. Seconds later, they’d ducked into the woods in search of the trail that led off campus.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Urumqi, Xinjiang, China

  Kwon fought his way through the underbrush, with Harper hot on his heels. The Security Police sirens continued to reverberate off the tall buildings surrounding the campus, and now they could hear voices shouting from the sidewalk connecting the dorm to the School of Journalism. They reached a chain-link fence and Kwon assisted Harper in scaling the eight-foot barrier. By the time they’d reached the other side, they could hear men approaching, shouting loudly to one another amid the crackle of two-way radios.

  Harper and Kwon didn’t bother to glance at their pursuers. They raced through a gravel parking area used by the students. They dodged cars seeking a parking space, resulting in one of the drivers honking their horn out of frustration.

  “Which way?” asked Harper, who was beginning to breathe heavily. She was regretting her inability to stay in better physical shape due to her constant travelling.

  They made their way to the cross street and Kwon pointed toward yet another police car closing on their position.

  “Let’s go up a block and then to the left. We’ve gotta make our way back to the safe house.”

  They darted through oncoming traffic along the one-way street, drawing the ire of those who had to brake to avoid hitting the jaywalkers. Once on the other side, they were able to make use of an alleyway between two office buildings to throw off any pursuers.

  When they reached the end of the alley, they both stopped abruptly. Before them was a wet market, an open-air place of commerce that had become so well known to Westerners decades ago during the SARS outbreak and later with the spread of COVID-19.

  Harper had grown up in a small community where local farmers would bring their produce into town on Saturday mornings for shoppers to make their purchases. At the farmers’ market, prices might not necessarily be inexpensive and the produce might not be quite as eye appealing as the corporate-grown products bought into the grocery store, but people loved the thought of buying farm-to-table.

  In China, the concept of a farmers’ market was taken to another level. Not only could you purchase produce directly from the farmer, but butchers were there with plucked chickens and slaughtered cattle. They also brought wild animals, which were still alive.

  It was not uncommon to see a customer purchase a porcupine or a deer, and then they’d wait while the butcher slaughtered it on a table before them. Whether the animals were used for food or medicinal purposes, the mess created by the blood and animal parts was one of the reasons diseases were frequently spread at the wet markets. The 2003 SARS epidemic had been linked to the sale of rare civet cats, animals related to the mongoose, at a wet market in Guangdong province.

  These wet markets were unsanitary, and each of the vendors worked in very close proximity to one another. They were chaotic as the customers and vendors bartered and argued with one another. To Harper, it looked like a massive petri dish of bacteria and viruses.

  She pulled the mask over her face and made sure it was affixed properly. She looked over to Kwon and advised him to do the same.

  “This is perfect,” he said. “We can get lost in here and make our way around the university complex back to the safe house.”

  “Just don’t touch anything,” warned Harper. “I have no words.”

  “I agree. This way.”

  They made their way through the aisles of vendors, trying to avoid contact with anyone and anything. The two of them were keenly aware of what was being sold and how close they’d come to the exposed meat of animals. Occasionally, they’d draw a glance from the locals, but mostly, everyone went about their business. As they reached the far end of the wet market, a parking area appeared, enclosed by a fence. Kwon stopped and assessed his options.

  “Listen,” said Harper. “I don’t hear the sirens, do you?”

  Kwon focused and glanced at his watch. “No. It’s been twenty minutes since we jumped the fence. It’s hard to believe they’ve given up already.”

  “Maybe we’re not that important.”

  Kwon studied their surroundings. He didn’t want to draw any more attention by scaling fences, but the most direct route to the safe house required them to travel along the edge of the university campus.

  “Or they’re sweeping the streets. It’s going to take longer, but we need to avoid the university. Come on.”

  Harper walked briskly to keep up with Kwon’s long strides. They were both wearing their masks and she continued to don the white Polo ball cap. They entered the main thoroughfare leading back in the direction of the hospital. They walked close to the buildings, using pedestrians on the sidewalk as a buffer between them and any unmarked Security Police vehicles driving by.

  Suddenly, the high-pitched shrill from a whistle pierced their ears. Across the street, a city policeman was holding several flyers. Now he was waving them in the air as he continued to blow his whistle. Pointing toward Kwon and Harper, the officer ran toward the crosswalk and waited for the traffic to yield for him to cross.

  “Kwon! Up ahead! They’re coming toward us.”

  Kwon didn’t respond. He ran forward in the direction of their pursuers and motioned for Harper to follow him down an alley. The alley must’ve connected back toward the wet market because it was full of vendors pushing carts or carrying crates full of dead animals or vegetables.

  They were now the center of attention as their height and American appearance drew onlookers from on the street as well as from the windows in buildings around them.

  He glanced over his shoulder and shouted to Harper, “Faster! They’re on us!”

  Harper led the way, pushing people down and racing in the direction of the wet market. Up ahead, she saw two uniformed police officers. They, too, were blowing whistles and forcing their way through the wet market vendors. She stopped and Kwon crashed into her.

  Both of their heads were on a swivel as they frantically looked around the alley for options. They were sandwiched between two tall residential apartment buildings. For as far as the eye could see, the residents had their windows open and were poking their heads through the openings to watch the chase.

  Just beyond an overflowing dumpster, Kwon saw a small alleyway. He wasn’t sure if they could get there before the two uniformed officers who were moving briskly towards them, but it was all they had. He motioned for Harper to follow, urging her to walk in a crouch so thei
r heads didn’t protrude above the much shorter locals.

  They’d just made it to the dumpster when the officers chasing them from behind began to catch up. They were closing in, blowing their whistles and screaming at the wet market vendors to move out of the way. The congestion helped Harper and Kwon escape down the alleyway in search of a way into the apartment buildings. They’d almost reached the last doorway when a group of men jumped from behind tall stacks of wooden crates.

  They tackled Kwon first and then grabbed Harper around the waist. She tried to fight them off, but in a matter of seconds, they had pulled a grain sack over her head.

  “Kwon! Kwon!” she tried to shout, but her voice was muffled. She fought to catch her breath. She tried to wiggle out of the grasp of the men who’d restrained her, to no avail.

  They dragged her along the concrete across the metal threshold of a doorway. The air around her became suddenly cooler, but not like the feel of air-conditioning. It was a dark cold. Damp. And stale. She tried again to call out for Kwon. But he didn’t answer. She suddenly felt very alone.

  Part IV

  Hiding in the Shadows

  True friends are those rare people who come to find you in dark places and lead you back into the light.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Urumqi, Xinjiang, China

  Harper was battered. Her body ached all over from being manhandled and dragged for what seemed like hundreds of yards. She tried to focus on the external stimuli that entered her brain through her senses of hearing, smell, and touch. The grain sack over her head blocked her vision and constricted her smell, also leaving her gasping for air and searching for any form of light.