Surviving When the Dead Have Risen

by Jeffrey Littorno

  By the expression on Lawrence’s face, it was clear that he was surprised as well. Kelly noticed our reactions and said, “So you like my little slice of paradise, huh?” He smiled and continued, “Well, it took me a while to put this place together. I been the head and only maintenance man for this place and next door for… let’s see… I guess, it’s been four years now.” He paused as if surprised by his own words. “Whoa, have I been here for four years? Dudes, that’s a hella long time!” He looked over to see if we shared in his surprise and found our blank stares. “Oh, dudes, have a seat. Get comfortable. I’ll go find that first aid kit.” He rushed off to a closet at the far end of the room.

  Lawrence and I sat down on the big leather couch.

  “So what do you think of our new best friend Kelly?” I asked with a grin.

  “I think he’s one radical dude,” Lawrence replied in his best surfer voice.

  Kelly hurried back over to where we were sitting. He had a blue & white plastic case in one hand with the other behind his back. A smile stretched across his face as he announced, “Okay, I found the first aid kit sure enough. But also found something else that’ll make you feel totally better.” He let out a sort of naughty giggle as he brought his hand from behind his back to reveal a small blue glass bong.

  I looked over at the big grinning detective and asked, “What do you think, Officer Lawrence? Are you interested in smoking some weed?”

  Kelly’s face turned as gray as his hair. “No way! It’s like the last days of the world, Armageddon and shit, and I get busted! It kinda figures, I guess.”

  “Relax, Kelly,” Lawrence commented. “Nobody’s gettin’ busted.” The detective chuckled. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know where I’d take you even if I did want to bust you.”

  The relief on Kelly’s face could not have been more pronounced. “Dude, thanks. I didn’t mean no harm, you know.”

  “I think we got some bigger problems these days,” I said.

  “Are you a pi--, I mean, are you a cop too?” Kelly asked.

  “No, I’m… was a newspaper reporter for the Marin Gazette.” The finality of my words knocked the wind out of me for a moment. “But tell me more about this police scanner.”

  “I will, but I think I better take care of the shoulder first.”

  Kelly sat down next to me on the couch. He unloaded the first aid kit on the coffee table and set to work on my wound.

  “Looks like you’ve had some experience with this,” I said, trying to fill the silence.

  “I spent some time in Afghanistan as a medic,” Kelly answered. “Didn’t think I’d be using those skills again.”

  “So howdja go from the military to living in a basement?” Lawrence asked.

  Kelly shot a look at Lawrence that made it clear that he did not like discussing the topic. After a minute, he answered, “Well, believe it or not, I don’t take orders very well. I’m a pretty mellow dude, but some of those officers get their jollies by ridin’ guys until they break. There was this one junior officer named Bartlett, a total bastard trying to impress his daddy the general.” Kelly’s words gained speed as they spilled out of him.

  “This one day, Bartlett was really on my back big time. As one of the newer members of the medical corps, I was charged with inventorying everyone’s med pack and refilling as needed. To do this, I had to get into the supply hut by 0400 to be done by 0630. Anyway, I was there refilling packs at about five thirty when Bartlett showed up. I could tell there was something wrong with the little prick by the way he was being real polite to me, saying something like ‘Kelly, you’re one helluva good soldier, aren’t you? Always showing up on time to get the job done’.

  “I didn’t say anything. I mean, what was I supposed to say? But he just kept going on ranting about what a good job I was doing, and I just kept on doing my job. Finally, Bartlett moved up real close in my face and screamed, ‘Stand at attention, soldier!’ I dropped the pack that I was holding took a step back and directed my eyes straight ahead just as I trained to do. Not sure how long he had me like that, but he was just watching me and laughing the whole time. Finally, he turned to the cart where I had stacked all the med packs that I had finished refilling. I stood there still at attention, and he stood there just staring at the cart. Then he turned toward me with a huge smile stretching across his face. A second later, the motherfucker was dumping all the packs on the floor. The caps and tubes and bandages went all over the place. And the whole time, Bartlett was giggling like some little girl. I stood at attention for as long as I could. I stood there staring straight ahead, trying to block everything out of my mind. But I couldn’t get that picture of his smile and the sound of his giggling out of my brain, you know?

  “I’m not all that sure what exactly happened then. It was all sorta foggy or something. I guess I must’ve gone over and grabbed Bartlett and hit him. Next thing I know for sure is I was on top of his chest, slamming his head into the floor trying to get the sound of his giggling out of my brain. Somebody must’ve coldcocked me ‘cuz the next thing I remember was waking up in a jail cell.” He looked around at us as if surprised that he still had an audience. “Been a long time since I told the story out loud like this. Anyway, I spent seventy-five months in Leavenworth and then found my way here.”

  “Well, none of that matters much now,” Lawrence said. “Doesn’t seem like a whole helluva a lot matters besides staying alive.”

  “Yeah, I got a pretty good idea about that from the police scanner and the satellite TV,” Kelly answered, nodding his head toward the shelf on the wall.

  Next to the big television was a series of shelves holding electronic equipment. The blinking blue, red, and green lights made the area look like some command center.

  “I guess we have basic cable upstairs,” I laughed. “So you get some of the news channels?”

  “Take a look,” Kelly said, pushing buttons on two remote controls found the coffee table.

  Immediately, the dark screen was filled with the image of an extraordinarily-endowed blonde on a bed, writhing in ecstasy as a nude man kissed his way down her body.

  “Oh, sorry man… I was…” Kelly stammered as he pushed another button and changed the channel.

  The screen now showed a tired-looking older gentleman sitting at a desk, a picture of a globe with WSB emblazoned across on the front and a wall of television screens behind. A few of the screens also showed a picture of the globe with the stations call letters, but others showed scenes of what appeared to be rioting. “…and so we continue our coverage of the conference at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta with Russell Baker on location. Russell?”

  The picture switched to a man standing in a crowded corridor. For a few seconds, the man stared down at some papers in his hand before suddenly realizing he was on camera and looking up. “Timothy, I’m here outside the main conference room at the CDC. As I am sure everyone is aware, today was the first of a scheduled series of conferences between the leaders of medical associations and research groups. They are reportedly here to discuss responses to the epidemic of what has become known as the Uncommon Cold. Leading today’s session was Dr. Lynn Cartwright, director of the Institute of Research of Infectious Diseases. I believe we have some tape of the meeting.”

  The next view was from the back of a crowded conference room. Panning around the room, the camera revealed people sitting in every available chair as well as many seated on the floor against the walls. Most of them had notepads on which they were writing. After a moment, the camera moved to the front of the room and focused on a short, plump woman standing behind a podium lined with microphones. Behind her was a long table at which were seated about twenty people, some wearing white medical coats.

  “Thank you all for coming today. I am Dr. Lynn Cartwright, and I am the appointed director of this emergency conference of the International Health Organization and more specifically its Global Response Team. The members seated behind me have ga
thered here to formulate a coordinated response to the onslaught of this just-recognized mutation of the coronavirus. As this virus is one of those responsible for the condition we call the common cold, the mutation had become known in the media and elsewhere as the uncommon cold.” A few snickers could be heard throughout the room. Dr. Cartwright looked out at the audience for a few seconds before continuing, “While I am a fan of black humor as much as the next person, there should be no mistaking the fact that there is nothing funny about the threat of this viral mutation.” She forced a somewhat shaky smile to her face.

  “Please forgive me for a brief lecture on the nature of viruses. My past as a teacher has left me with some habits that are difficult to break. But don’t worry, because this won’t be on a test.” A flutter of laughter could be heard. “Viruses are essentially tiny agents of infection that can only replicate within the living cells of host organisms. They have been found capable of infecting every type of life form. It has been just over a century since viruses were first identified. Over this time, some five thousand specific viruses have been identified with detailed description. In addition, there are several millions of forms of viruses not including the vast array of mutations. They are present in nearly all ecosystems found on Earth. Viruses are also the most abundant of all biological forms. The evolution of viruses remains somewhat unclear. While certain forms seem to have developed from plasmids, others appear to have evolved from bacterial forms. In the evolutionary process, viruses have served as vital conduits for horizontal gene transfer, which can result in greater acquisition of immunity.” Cartwright looked out to see that she had gone beyond the understanding of her audience.

  “Okay, the one thing to take from this is the fact that viruses are considered to be the most basic of life forms, since they hold genetic coding, practice reproduction, and evolve via the process of natural selection but lack cell structure. And as is the case with any life form, they are constantly transmuting, that is, changing into new forms. We believe that is what we are looking at with this new version of the coronavirus. With further details on the symptoms exhibited by those contracting the virus, I turn it over to Dr. Fields.”

  Cartwright exchanged places with a muscular, young man whose skin was so dark that it appeared almost blue. “Thank you, Dr. Cartwright,” Fields said in a rhythmic Jamaican accent. “I am Dr. Benjamin Fields, and I have been heading up a team studying the symptoms common to those suffering from the effects of the virus.” He flashed a mouth full of dazzling white teeth which made it impossible not to smile in response. A moment later the wall behind him lit up with a picture, and all smiles vanished.

  The huge screen showed a trio of shells in a small bare white room with padding on the walls. A long smear of blood on the padding behind them could be seen. A murmur rolled through the audience. Fields looked back at the picture behind him for a few seconds. He then turned back to the podium and took a small remote control from inside.

  The screen changed to a plain white background with words typed in the center: Preliminary Research Report – Coronavirus Mutation Case Studies. The CDC logo filled the space underneath.

  “What you are about to see are the initial findings of our case studies into the physical manifestations of the viral mutation. Again, I must stress that these studies are hardly conclusive as we are forced to rely on an extremely small sampling in the very early stages of the viral outbreak. The interpretations and extrapolations made at this juncture are purely theoretical. And with such an admonition, we shall proceed to our findings.” Fields smiled again, but this time there were few smiles in response.

  The screen filled with the gray face and glazed eyes of an obviously dead man of about forty. “This is Subject Eleven, AKA Elvin. Elvin was first encountered as a patient in Fort Benning’s medical facility. He was admitted to the hospital for extreme cold-like symptoms as well as what was reportedly termed irrational behavior.” The picture now showed the man in a hospital bed with leather cuffs holding his wrists to the bed’s metal railings. Cables led from his arms to an IV bag hanging on a stand and several machines.

  “Elvin presented an ideal case in that he was isolated and under observation over a period before his death and after his… uh… reanimation.” The doctor looked at the picture for a moment before pushing another button. Video of the scene with a time stamp in the upper right corner began playing. “As you can see, the subject is resting comfortably at this point.” The video sped forward to the point of a nurse’s appearance. “Here we see that the alarm on the heart monitor has alerted an attendant.” The high pitch tone of the monitor rang out, and the short female nurse began performing CPR on the patient. “Naturally, the medical attendant attempts to resuscitate Elvin until the crisis team arrives.” As if on cue, two men and one woman dressed in light green medical scrubs pushing a cart burst into the picture. The nurse pushing on Elvin’s chest was instantly pushed aside and replaced by a man who attached a manual resuscitator to Elvin’s face and began squeezing the dark blue bag. With each squeeze, the chest expanded, and then slowly shrank again. The squealing of the heart monitor continued until one of the newly-arrived team went over and shut it off.

  The room fell under a smothering silence broken only by the rhythmic grunts by the man doing the chest compressions. When the compressions stopped, the woman began squeezing the bag and counting one thousand one, one thousand two between squeezes. The third member of the team, an older man, was carefully monitoring the various machines to which Elvin was attached. The routine went on for about five minutes. Despite the time, no one in the audience at the meeting or in the basement with Kelly did anything but continue to stare at the screen.

  The scene did not change until the man who had been checking the machines announced, “Calling time of death at 20:17.” The words halted the efforts of the other two in the room. The man who had been pressing on the chest shook his head in obvious frustration, turned, and quickly left the room.

  The other two stood near the heart monitor quietly discussing something as the nurse came back into the room and began disconnecting Elvin from the IV and machines. She had released his wrists from the restraints and was in the process of sliding the IV needle out of his arm when Elvin turned his head to look at her.

  “What happened to me?” He asked calmly.

  The nurse jumped back as if she had been stung. “Doctors!” she cried.

  The pair standing near the machines watched for a moment as Elvin attempted to sit up in bed.

  “What happened to me?” he repeated, twisting his body against the rails holding him in the bed.

  “You’ve been ill and are in the hospital,” the older man answered. “Now, we need you to relax and lay back down while we check you out.” He reached out and nudged his shoulder backward.

  At the instant the fingers touched his shoulder, Elvin sprang forward and into the doctor. He would have been out of the bed and atop the man if it had not been for the metal bed railing and the tubes still attached to his arms. As it was, the doctor found himself knocked back against the wall and slowly sliding to the floor.

  The nurse pushed the alarm button on the wall next to the bed and an intermittent buzzing began echoing through the room and beyond. Seconds later, a pair of orderlies in dark blue scrubs rushed into the room and pushed Elvin back on the bed. The nurse managed to reattach the leather cuffs even as Elvin continued to thrash around in the bed and scream, “I need to get out of here!”

  Dr. Fields paused the video and regarded the audience for a moment before saying, “I am sure you have many questions about what you have seen. However, I ask that you reserve your questions until the end of our presentation.”

  He turned back to the screen and pushed the fast forward on the video. “As you can see at 20:33… 8:33pm, Elvin was speaking simple sentences and displaying some aptitude for rational thought. However, just thirty minutes later… well, you can see.”

  The video began again at 21:03. Although
the setting was the same small hospital room, just about everything else was different. No longer were there any monitors or IV stands in the room. The people who had previously been in the room had been replaced by several armed MPs in uniform and four men in white medical coats standing around the bed. The biggest difference was the thing in the bed. It had little resemblance to the man seen previously. The face was now frozen in a constant snarl, and it alternated between twisting to either side to bite at those standing nearby and throwing itself backward onto the bed. Several times it threw itself backwards so hard that it appeared to be knocked unconscious. It would remain still for about twenty seconds before lurching forward with a jolt and begin trying to bite again.

  “Clearly, Elvin has undergone some distinct changes since we last saw him. His CAT scan showed major differences. The virus left damage very similar to that done by a massive stroke. We see that like many stroke victims he no longer has the ability to speak. However, unlike those experiencing a cerebrovascular accident or CVA, Elvin now appears completely fixated upon attacking those around him. When tested, he seems unable to utilize even rudimentary reasoning skills. That is, he functions at below the cognitive levels of most mammals. I would have to place his intellectual operation as more akin to the amoeba.” The rumbling that had been constant among audience members since the beginning of Fields’ presentation grew louder. “I understand the difficulty in readily accepting the appearance of a new viral strain and its effects upon humans. The virus appears to attack the brain in a way similar to a massive stroke. Again, I must caution that my findings are extremely early in a developmental process which typically takes a number of years before providing any sort of conclusive body of evidence. That being said, Elvin’s case is one of numerous others which have presented themselves in the past month. While the specific durations of each stage varied, the presence and sequence of the stages did not differ. First of all, there is the onset of an ailment which is to all initial appearances identical to the common cold. However, what happens after this is most uncommon. Next comes a sudden elevation of the symptoms which results in death. Of course, as we have witnessed, the process does not end here. Following death, as defined by the cessation of all functions recognized as life sustaining, subjects are dormant for a time prior to regaining some semblance of life. We saw Elvin’s speech and even fine motor skills on display shortly after emerging from his dormant period. The final stage is one marked by relatively rapid deterioration of both mental and physical abilities. The final stage appears to be simple return to the death state. That is, it is a complete shut-down of all processes.”