“I’m positive in the bigger cities it will be bad, but here, in our neck of the woods, we’re not going to get hit that bad.”
Matt nodded sadly.
“Again, I am very sorry for your loss.”
“So am I.”
Matt turned, he knew he was in shock. He was absolutely devastated, all he felt was numb. It was a nightmare, one he would wake from soon. He absolutely hated the thought that he had to leave his parents and daughter behind in some sort of post flu limbo, but he really didn’t have a choice.
He took comfort in the nurse’s words, after all, she was a medical professional, she would know.
The flu in Franklin wasn’t really that bad.
The crisis would be over soon and Matt would face his losses, all them would register and he would grieve.
Until then, Matt would go back and spend a little more time with his daughter.
22 – INTO THE WAVES
August 3
Boston, MA
Elias brewed another cup of coffee as he stood at the window of his hotel room looking out to the skyline of Boston.
They had only given him twelve of those little pods and he knew he had to make them last, but another cup of coffee was needed.
He hadn’t been to bed all night. Too scared to sleep, worried he wouldn’t hear an evacuation warning or fire alarm.
The last time he checked on his guards by the door they still stood there dutifully.
However, it had been hours, Elias didn’t want to see if they were still there.
If they weren’t, Elias would be tempted to leave his room, something he knew for his own safety he couldn’t do.
Some twenty hours earlier the news had broken, within eight hours of that riots erupted in Boston. Local news stations were telling people to avoid downtown. That an abundance of looting was taking place.
Elias didn’t get it. Why steal televisions when the world was besieged by plague? Perhaps deep down they believed all would be alright, they’d take it home and wait it out.
Little did those looters know the television wasn’t the only thing they were taking home.
Police were shorthanded and unable to control it so they withdrew. By midnight Elias saw the glow of fires coming from the city. Just after dawn black smoke billowed above the skyline.
He watched a lot of news. There was a desperation on the part of reporters, some believing it was the end of the world while others labeled it a crisis.
Elias wanted to work on X, but he was shut off from communicating any of his thoughts. Conner never got in touch again. He was left to wonder if Conner, Rob, Abe … if they all just packed a bag, packed it up and, like they requested of the public, simply went into self-quarantine.
Elias wouldn’t do that. He would have been in the lab until the bitter end.
Now he was trapped in a hotel until that point.
Finally, after pacing, sipping coffee and staring out the window, he mustered up the courage to look out the peep hole.
Were his guards out there?
He hadn’t heard their voices.
He looked the best he could and still didn’t see anything.
The door wasn’t locked. The guarantee that he’d stay in there was because of the guards.
Slowly he turned the handle. If they saw him and said something, he’d merely defend himself and say he was curious as to what was going on.
But when he opened the door no one was in the hall.
Elias smiled.
He had spent all day and all night listening to the news reports. Hearing reporters and anchors, along with the president, calling him Doctor Death, the man who ended the world.
He didn’t have a key to his room to get back in, so he pulled the privacy bar outward to keep the door slightly ajar. He didn’t plan to go far or to leave the hotel. He wasn’t insane. He wanted to find a phone. He was going to call the news station, so before the world went completely insane, he could get his side of the story out there. At least his version of it.
◆◆◆
Magnificent Jewel – Cruise Ship
Eve took her coffee to the balcony outside the suite.
Silas had been out there since early morning, watching and listening.
He was inspired, he told her, to write a new song. He was working on the lyrics when she joined him.
She set his satellite phone on the table between them.
“Anything new?” he asked. “I know you were listening to the news reports.”
“The guy that started it all, he called the news,” Eve said. “He’s claiming he created it and some French scientist stole it and that was what accidently caused the release.”
“Do you believe him?” Silas asked.
“This is a bad thing, Silas, people want someone to blame. This Doctor Marcum is the fall guy and he’s trying to defend himself.”
“Is he in hiding?” Silas asked.
“Protective custody.”
“Any word from Glen?”
“Not since yesterday. He hasn’t sent anymore footage.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Yeah, and knowing Glen, probably helping.”
“They need it.” Silas pointed outward. “There were a lot of workers on the deck yesterday. Not many today.”
“How long do you think we should stay in this room?”
“We have enough ramen to last us another week,” Silas answered. “I think the flu will have run its course on the ship in a couple of days. We wait for the germ to die out, then we can go.”
“But go where?” Eve asked. “We are docked in the middle of the ocean.”
“After it’s all said and done, I’m sure they’ll get the boat moving again.” He looked quickly at her when the phone rang.
She lifted it. “BNN calling for the morning report.”
“Good luck.”
She answered the phone. “This is Eve. Yes, Brent … I’m ready. Are you … are you okay? You sound tired. Okay. Thanks.” She covered the receiver end of the phone, cleared her throat and took a drink of her coffee. She listened as Brent did his morning introduction.
“Eve, are you there?” Brent asked,
“I’m here.”
“Good morning. How are you?”
“Good morning, Brent I am doing well.” Eve spoke in her reporter voice. “I have been fortunate enough to have been in self-quarantine since the outbreak began on this ship several days ago. I, like many others, have found a new friend, because of being thrown together and quarantined in this horrible mess.”
“And you aren’t sick?”
“Not at all. We are actually doing quite well. We have enough food in the room to last us. Things have quieted down over the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday we had people in the halls, out on the deck arguing, fighting, wanting answers. Last night you could hear the sounds of moans, coughing and sickness as it carried through the silence of the boat.”
“When do you think you’ll leave the room?” Brent asked.
“I was just discussing this with my roommate. A few more days maybe.” Eve’s head cocked when she heard a splash. “They have left protective wear in sealed bags outside the door in the hall. I can assure you …” she paused again at another splash. “We won’t leave the room without them.”
“You have to be proactive.”
“Yes, we do.”
“What are your plans for today?”
“Well we …” Another splash and Eve stood and walked to the edge of the balcony. “We plan on listening to …” her eyes widened at the sound of another splash.
“Eve? Eve, are you okay?”
“I’m outside the room on the balcony right now, reporting,” her voice quivered some. “I can see the edge of the deck and you won’t believe it. I don’t … I don’t believe it.”
“What do you see, Eve?”
“I don’t have a clear view, but what I can see, it looks like a lot of bodies piled on the deck. And Brent … as if the
y are nothing, no longer human, one by one …” she said in shock. “They are throwing them overboard.”
◆◆◆
What was it? What exactly was it that caused Glen to open his eyes? He didn’t open them much, they were heavy and felt coated with some sort of crust, like the time he had pink eye. Was it his pounding headache, the stabbing sore throat or the sharp pain that throbbed between his shoulder and neck?
It had to of been one of those sensations that caused him to wake up.
Glen felt horrible.
Aside from those pains, his body felt void of any energy.
He tried to move a little, perhaps if he did it would give relief to his body aches, but he couldn’t even move. He felt as if there were a ton of bricks on his chest and underneath his back was lumpy.
When did it happen?
The day before he suspected he was getting sick. For the first couple hours he reasoned it away as psychosomatic symptoms. But as the day moved on and hours ticked way something new happened.
His body got the shivers as if he had a fever. Then the headache began and accompanied his already tickly throat.
He watched as the captain grew increasingly ill. His face paler by the hour, but the Captain kept going. A rash crept up the Captain’s neck, around his throat and under his chin. The first signs of it was only the redness. An hour later he looked like he had acne, after that, they blistered with puss, the area around the marks turning purple and black.
The more the Captain kept going, the more Glen and others that were ill, did as well.
Sometime early evening, Glen felt his neck swell. He couldn’t lower his head all the way so he looked in a mirror. Like the Captain, he too had the rash.
He was following the Captain around, listening to him talk. Getting testimonies of people stricken with the illness, people who had messages for family members.
Then the Captain disappeared.
Glen didn’t know what happened to him.
In fact, Glen didn’t know what happened to himself.
One moment he was talking to a man who was sick, the next … nothing. He recalled nothing until he tried to open his crusted eyes. Opening his eyes, his body in complete and utter pain.
“I’m dying,” Glen thought, “And I don’t remember when I passed out.”
For all he knew, he kept going even after that last lucid memory. When it happened he didn’t know, but he was definitely down for the count.
Since he was conscious, he wanted to get up.
Make one more statement, take one more video. He knew he wasn’t going to last long. He needed to get that footage to Eve. All those videos of people’s goodbyes. They were important.
Glen tried to move his arm, it was heavy.
Then with a deep breath he felt the pressure on his chest get some relief.
That was a good sign. He was stirring, waking more, maybe he did have more strength than he realized.
Just as he was about to try to sit up, he felt someone grab him. They touched his shoulders, then someone else grabbed his feet.
They were moving him.
Glen figured at that second he probably passed out in the middle of everything and probably wasn’t out for long.
He felt his body lifted, they were carrying him somewhere. More than likely a bed.
Hating to feel useless and as if he were taking advantage of them, Glen relaxed. Once they put him down, he would try to get up again.
It didn’t take long for Glen to realize that wasn’t going to happen.
A few seconds after being carried he felt as if they were swinging him and then Glen felt airborne. Their hands released him and nothing was holding him.
He was free falling, his body tumbling.
What was happening? What was going on?
He tried to call out but couldn’t. Just as he felt his voice coming back, he felt his face slam hard into what felt like a burning wall. It stung when he hit it, but he quickly learned he didn’t land face first into concrete, he landed face first into water.
His reaction gasp caused him to inhale a huge amount of water into his lungs as he bobbed and flipped to his back.
His eyes still wouldn’t open so he never saw anything.
His airways were clogged. He couldn’t cough, he couldn’t breathe. And without any strength to move his arm and legs, Glen sank farther and deeper into the ocean.
He felt as if he were floating. Then crustiness around his eyes loosened and Glen opened them.
The light at the surface of the water faded farther way.
There was a peaceful feeling to him, a floating sensation, almost euphoric.
This was it for Glen. There was no saving him. No turning back. He was going to die. He accepted it.
At least though, at that moment, he wasn’t suffering, he didn’t feel sick from the flu.
Even though it was a horrific thing to happen. Mistaken for dead, tossed into the ocean to drown, Glen unlike millions of others wasn’t going to leave the earth in agony.
He embraced his destiny as he embraced the last few seconds of life.
23 - NARROW
Franklin, PA
‘She’s gone.’
It was the one and only time Stew had heard from Matt since he left him at the hospital. That was it.
Despite how many times Stew tried to call, the only time Stew heard from Matt was twelve hours after he left him, and that was to deliver the heartbreaking news that his oldest granddaughter had died.
Stew wanted to be angry at Matt. How cold, how callous, what a horrible way to find out. Yet, he recalled when he lost his own daughter the last thing he wanted to do was pick up the phone and verbally say, ‘my daughter has died.’
It was soul crushing.
But that was hours earlier and no word from Matt. He never bothered to call and check on Emma, to see how she was or to answer the phone when Stew tried to give him an update.
Stew knew people, but he could never figure out Matt.
On this one, Matt was blinded by grief, he didn’t handle it well.
For all Stew knew, Matt had become another virus victim at the hospital.
All Stew could do was wait. Emma was still sleeping on a make shift bed at the top of the stairs. The last Stew woke her she was fine. He woke her up numerous times, so it was no wonder she was sleeping as it pushed noon.
Stew was fine, too, he still had two more hours by his estimate before becoming sick.
During his wait, Stew became educated.
He watched the news and listened to every single word Doctor Death had said.
It went from a morning interview to Brent pretty much just allowing Dr. Death to stay on the air.
There were things that Dr. Death said that were frightening. But he also had words of encouragement.
The advice to self-quarantine is good.” Doctor death said, “The virus will stop circulating and die down. Staying inside means staying alive.”
“Can you survive it?” Brent asked.
“It depends how far down the strain line it is when you get exposed to it. If you get it from your cousin who got it from her brother, who got it from another ... chances are good in that case, the strain has weakened and a strong person could beat it. There are people who would never get it.”
“How many?” Brent asked him.
“Brent that’s a tough number. In some situations,” Doctor Death answered. “One in a hundred. It could be higher in rural areas. I don’t have access to any data now to find out how many people are not getting sick right now. It’s moving too fast for them to keep track.”
Dr. Death went on explaining further, rattling off as if he were giving a lecture. If you were exposed and you were infected, it would be twenty-four hours ... max, before first symptoms.
Then again, first symptoms could be confused with stress.
Wearing gloves, a mask and googles aided in protecting against getting and transmitting the virus.
Again, Stew was a great
judge of character, and Dr. Death knew his stuff. Stew also, as one of the State’s best defense attorneys, knew that Dr. Death was lying through his teeth. He wasn’t the fall guy.
He was responsible.
But Stew cared more about the information he gave, and Stew wrote it all down.
He called his house keeper who lived in the apartment above the lake house garage. She hadn’t even heard about the mess. Stew told her to stay in the apartment and not to leave. She was, as a precaution to self-quarantine.
Stew wasn’t taking any chances when it came to Emma.
There would be some that would think he was going overboard. She had already been exposed, and according to Dr. Death’s rules, chances were she wasn’t getting sick. Stew wasn’t taking those chances. He created his own protective measure for her so he could take her from the house to the car.
He wanted to leave as soon as he hit that safety time frame. He knew Matt would have to stay behind, but he didn’t see Matt having an issue with that, after all, Emma needed to be safe and away from populated areas.
Even in places like Franklin, people acted in desperate measures.
He heard about what happened at the grocery store. Stew also watched people going into houses on Matt’s street and taking food. Neighbors were already taking from neighbors.
It was disgusting.
No one attempted to come into Matt’s house. Either they knew Stew was there or knew Matt generally didn’t have much. Whatever the case, if they attempted to break in, Stew was ready. He wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them.
All the more reason to leave for the lake house.
Once he got Emma to the lake house, he would stay there the entire four weeks. That was the plan, now he just needed to wait out his time and wait for Matt to show up.
◆◆◆
Finally, Matt left the hospital. It took everything he had to leave his daughter. Saying goodbye to his first born along with his own father was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He still was unable to locate his mother. He was beyond a mess. He felt as if he was walking in the fog. It was surreal. The heartache ricocheted through his body creating a physical pain, he could feel it in his chest, and his bones felt like they were breaking with every step he took.
Plague Book: One Final Gasp Page 13