The Geezer Quest: World After Geezer: Year Two

by Penn Gates

  Lisa knows she has a tendency to go on and on once she gets started - and not everyone finds the details exciting. Except for other scientists, of course. But Nix needs to understand that this could change everything.

  “Not long before Geezer began killing off the older half of the human race,” Lisa continues, “Science stopped thinking of giant viruses as a curiosity and got serious about studying them. In a remarkably short time, multiple new viruses and virophages were found and studied - including a particular megavirus - Mimiviridae, APMV, which also hosts the Sputnik virophage - the very one that looks like the tiny burr I found on my jeans.”

  When Nix raises an eyebrow, Lisa adds, “That’s what jogged my memory.”

  Nix leans back against the shining white counter opposite. “This shit is all fascinating - but why is it important?”

  “Because I remembered something I’d read about this particular megavirus and its satellite. It appears to create a positive response in the human immune system.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense, Terrell. Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “I did. I found the giant virus Mimiviridae, APMV in the amoebae from the pond and the Sputnik virophage inside that.”

  “Then it’s time to introduce me to your little friends,” Nix prompts.

  On the computer monitor, the droplet of water from the St Clair pond teems with life.

  “What are those blobby thingies?” Nix asks, wrinkling her nose.

  “One-celled organisms called amoebae,” Lisa explains. Her finger hovers over the screen image of one.

  Nix notices the cuticle is raw, as if Lisa has been compulsively picking at it. She stops herself from commenting. When a witness is on a roll it’s never smart to interrupt their train of thought.

  “See there - the giant virus Mimiviridae, APMV, and the Sputnik virophage inside that,” Lisa crows. “I didn’t find a trace of it in any other water sample I’ve taken in this area.”

  “So, you’re thinking I’ve had this in my system since childhood?”

  “Yes, I do. If my hunch is correct, when the Geezer virus entered your system, it was immediately targeted by the virophage. Instead of Geezer multiplying, Sputnik kept the Geezer virus at bay.”

  Lisa reminds herself it’s never wise to promise a reality that’s still based on a hypothesis. Still, she can’t resist adding, “Five people survived the Geezer virus against all odds, and three of them lived on your farm - but I still can’t connect the other two.”

  “That’s easy,” Nix says. “That asshole, Frank, used to hang around all the time.” She shrugs. “I mean, it pains me to admit it, but we were dating during our senior year in high school.”

  “So, that’s four.”

  “All five prove your point,” Nix announces, like she’s laying down the winning hand. “Mr. Forrest was a friend of my grandfather’s. They got together out at the farm to play chess for years.”

  Lisa shuts her eyes and sends a thank you out into the universe.

  “Hey - I want to see the monster that destroyed the world,” Nix decides suddenly.

  “I’ll show you the Geezer virus,” Lisa says, “But only if you agree to wear a full hazmat suit.”

  “Is that really necessary? If I wasn’t immune, I wouldn’t be standing here arguing.”

  “Probably true. But I’m not willing to make that bet, even if you are.” Lisa crosses her arms. “Well? Just how much do you want to come face to face with Geezer?”

  “That’s an offer I can’t refuse,” Nix answers. “Stuff me inside of whatever and let’s get this freak show on the road.”

  A half hour later, Nix stands staring at the contents of a petri dish. “That’s the little fucker that tried to take out the human race?” Her voice sounds tinny through the microphone inside the suit.

  Lisa stares into her eyes through the plastic visor of her own Hazmat helmet. “A totally unknown virus. That’s why our immune systems were overwhelmed.”

  “Are you gonna tell me this little guy escaped from under a glacier, or something?”

  “I don’t know - I can only surmise. If there was one previously unknown virus in the permafrost, it’s not unreasonable to think there are others.”

  “How the hell did it hitchhike to Ohio from the Arctic Circle? And I thought it got loose in the Middle East first?”

  “Did you know that there’s millions of viruses in the atmosphere, carried on wind currents?” Lisa asks enigmatically. And she can’t help smiling, just a little.

  “What’s so funny?” Nix asks. “I could use a laugh at the moment.”

  “I just had the most ridiculous idea. Do you remember reading about the methane bubbles that rise to the surface as the permafrost melts?”

  “Nope,” Nix says. “I must have missed that issue of Science Digest.”

  “There was one case that definitely made the mainstream news,” Lisa tells her. “It was in Siberia, I think. They discovered a huge, deep hole - I mean like 65 feet deep and 26 feet in diameter. And you know what caused it? A methane bubble rising to the surface as the permafrost thawed.”

  Now Nix laughs. “Mother Nature’s farts!”

  Lisa is too intent on the point to be made to bother pretending amusement. “Where do you suppose all the debris went when that methane bubble exploded?”

  “Airborne,” Nix says, then, “Shit! Way, way up - into the atmosphere.”

  “What if a virus like we’re looking at right now is what killed off the Neanderthals? The Denisovans?” Lisa presses. “It could have killed off pockets of early humans, over and over - and then it’s suddenly launched into the wind.”

  “You tell the scariest stories of anybody I ever met,” Nix grumbles. “And I’ve listened to cops describe serial killers’ work in great detail.”

  “Geezer is a serial killer, too.” Lisa returns the slide with the deadly virus into a small metal case, which she locks. “And the dynamic duo of Mimiviridae, APMV and the Sputnik virophage might be its nemesis.”

  “We should probably close up shop,” Lisa adds. “This suit gets unbearable after awhile.” She’s been stowing away all the other specimens as she talks. “Go ahead. You can take that thing off now.”

  “If it was me, I’d want some more corroborating evidence,” Nix said, her voice muffled as she pulls the protective covering from her head. “Like for instance, if a senior survivor had Sputniks or dead Geezer virus in their blood.”

  “Too bad the rest of them are dead,” Lisa reminds her. “And you’ve already turned me down.”

  “I just might be willing to reconsider,” Nix says, running her fingers through her hair. “Now that the St Clair family isn’t the main target any more I’m happy to donate to your cause - on one condition.”

  “I can’t agree until I know what it is,” Lisa says, her mood curdling.

  Nix grins. “You never let anyone know where you found what you found.”

  “I can promise that.”

  “All righty then,” Nix grins. “Somebody will pick you up early tomorrow. Bring plenty of gear because you might as well test everybody - right? They’ve all been with us long enough to get some of those little Sputnik thingies in their blood stream. I’m just sayin’ - that would be the evidence I’d collect if I was running the investigation.”

  “THAT IS THE FIRST TIME I have ever seen you allow anyone into your laboratory,” Janet comments as Lisa comes through the back door into the kitchen. “I am very glad you are enjoying your work again, but it is past lunch time and I did not see any sign of you eating breakfast, either.”

  “I’m hungry now,” Lisa says. “What is there to eat?”

  “I have made some bread and there is peanut butter. Also I think there is one more jar of strawberry jam.”

  “PBJ it is, then.”

  Lisa makes herself a sandwich and sits eating it while Janet does - whatever it is she does. Growing up, Lisa had always just taken for granted that someone was doing the cooking,
and doing it well, and she had no desire to learn. As an adult, she’s known plenty of people who prided themselves on the ‘culinary arts’ - while never having to clean up after creating a dish worthy of a professional chef. To say she feels a little guilty now eating food other people prepare is overstating it a bit, but having relationships with those same people does make a difference.

  When she’s finished, she takes the plate to the sink and washes it.

  “Thank you,” Janet says automatically.

  “I don’t do that often enough,” Lisa answers. “Is there something else I can help you with?”

  “You must be tired after working for so long. Why do you not rest for awhile?”

  “I need to talk to you anyway, Janet. I might as well be doing something at the same time.”

  With a potato peeler in one hand and a potato in the other, Lisa clears her throat. “I believe I’ve found what I’ve been looking for - at least something that can protect those of us who are left from Geezer until something more efficient comes along.”

  “That is wonderful news!” Janet cries. “You must be very, very happy!”

  “Well - yes, and no,” Lisa finds herself saying. “Reaching a goal always feels good, but it also means that I’ll have to take the information to the CDC - the place I used to work. And that means leaving everyone and everything I’ve grown to love.”

  “That is making me very sad, also,” Janet says as she envelopes Lisa in a hug. The potato drops to the linoleum floor and rolls under the table.

  “The thing is,” Lisa says when she can finally speak again, “I’m concerned about you, Janet. I have no idea what the squad might do.”

  “I have been told that all of the men want to stay in Hamlin,” Janet replies.

  “Who told you that?”

  Janet colors a bit. “Tony tells me they are happy here, with their new friends and a whole town they can bring to life again.”

  “Does Corporal Holden want to stay here, too?” Lisa asks.

  “I believe that he does,” Janet says. “He is tired also of traveling.”

  Of course, Lisa thinks. He was an Army brat. He’s had a lifetime of that. As have I. The thought pops into her head fully formed. She’s led a kind of nomadic life herself, even before Geezer. Since college, her world has been a series of dorm rooms and generic apartments, in one place after another. And in a moment of insight, she admits she’s been an emotional fugitive, as well.

  Lisa becomes aware that Janet is looking concerned at her lapse into silence. “Anyway,” Lisa says quickly. “Do you have any thoughts about what you might do when I’m gone?

  Janet has the strangest mixture of expressions on her face - uncertainty - happiness - embarrassment. “I do,” she says finally.

  “Well - don’t keep me in suspense,” Lisa urges.

  “Tony has asked me to marry him,” Janet says in a rush.

  “What?”

  Seeing Janet’s alarm, Lisa gets a grip on her surprise. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to over-react. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

  But I should have been, she thinks - because it makes perfect sense.

  “Congratulations,” she says quickly. “You and Tony seem made for each other.”

  “Thank you, Lisa. Your approval means very much to me.” Janet hesitates. “When will you be leaving? I - I am hoping for you to be at the wedding.”

  “Then I will be,” Lisa promises. “No matter what.”

  CHAPTER 31: Testing, Testing

  The St Clair pick up is back, the sole occupant a young man who is never without his cowboy hat - even while playing baseball.

  “Ma’am,” Colt says formally, removing the hat. “Nix sent me.”

  Lisa, like everyone else in the world after Geezer, has learned to distrust surprises. Her heart skips a beat. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hey - no trouble. I just come to take you out to the farm - and Nix says bring whatever you need to take a lot of blood samples - because you might as well check everybody while you’re at it.” He snickers. “Including the cows, if you want to.”

  Suddenly Colt looks uncertain. “You’re not really gonna do that?” he asks tentatively.

  “It depends on my supplies,” Lisa says. “So - probably not the cows.”

  “I’m gonna make sure I’m at the end of the line. Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll run out by then.” Colt slaps his hat against his leg and returns it to his head. “We better get going.” He grins. “Nix can get a little impatient.”

  “Hold on - I need a few minutes to grab my stuff out of The Whale.”

  Under the leaden sky, a low-lying mist still hangs over the countryside as Colt expertly takes a curve in the road. The colorful autumn leaves have largely disappeared, and the mud of the barren fields remind her of what’s left behind after a carnival has pulled up stakes and departed for the next town. Still, the sprawl of the horizon fills her with a sense of freedom. For the first time in her life, the idea of being locked in a lab for the foreseeable future is smothering.

  She spends the morning taking blood samples and information from each resident of the farm. She asks how long they’ve lived there, and whether or not they’ve gone swimming in the pond or eaten fish from it. She only stops when she runs out of glass slides.

  “I need to get back to my lab,” she tells Nix after lunch.

  “The hell you are. We have stuff to talk about. And—” she says mysteriously. “—there’s something else important you need to do.”

  “What’s that?” Lisa asks impatiently.

  “I’m gonna teach you to shoot.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Self defense, dummy.” Nix’s expression softens. “Listen, doc - you’ve found your answers, and I’m guessing your next move is south. Am I right?”

  Lisa just nods. She doesn’t trust herself to speak just now. Leaving is the last thing she wants to think about until she has to.

  “Then you need some survival skills - just in case.”

  “YOU’VE GOT A GOOD EYE,” Nix says admiringly. “You’re a natural.”

  They’re standing in a field far from the house, and Lisa has just put a hole in the center of a large pumpkin set atop a fence post.

  “I don’t know about that,” Lisa murmurs. She does know that she’s been concentrating as hard as she can on the target because the smell of the discharged weapon is making her queasy. It reminds her of that night—

  Lisa hurries to talk about something - anything - that makes those images disappear.

  “One thing a person develops in med school,” Lisa says, “is good hand-eye coordination and spatial perception.”

  Nix laughs. “Yeah - what I said - but with about twenty-five percent more syllables.”

  While Nix shoots, Lisa watches her intently, the way she stands, the way she holds her weapon.

  “Your turn, Terrell, and you haven’t even reloaded.”

  Lisa slides another magazine into the Glock. She feels the heft of the gun in her hand. Heavy with death.

  “Did you ever have to shoot anyone?” she blurts.

  Nix squints at her. “That’s like asking about somebody’s sex life,” she snaps. “Off limits.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lisa says. “Just seemed like a reasonable question to ask.”

  “I’ll say this once,” Nix continues. “Don’t bother learning how to hit a target unless you’re serious about defending yourself.” Her eyes are sad. “A pointed gun is not a magic wand that stops the bad guy. What stops a perp is your intent. If he sees you have the resolve to kill him, he’ll respect that. If he senses the slightest weakness, he’ll disarm you - and then shoot you with your own weapon.”

  Lisa feels Nix watching her and nods. “Believe me, I get it. Turn the other cheek only works with decent human beings. It’s a welcome mat for monsters.”

  LISA STARES INTO THE fire, her thoughts swirling in her head much like the sparks spiraling upward from the burning logs. She’s al
ways lived by the oath: first, do no harm. Until quite recently, the idea of taking a life would have been unimaginable. But today at target practice, she found herself thinking of Cindi Lou’s unholy joy at the prospect of burning another human being to death. She’d pictured Ezra’s pasty face, eyes rolling back in his head, as he’d bragged of raping Janet to impregnate her. Every time she aimed at a pumpkin and it exploded, she’d seen one or the other as she’d pulled the trigger.

  Surely such murderous thoughts aren’t healthy - unless imagining that you’ve vanquished your tormentor is a kind of catharsis. Tonight, for the first time, she’s able to sit by a fire and enjoy its comforting warmth. No panic. No fear. Maybe the real lesson is that she no longer feels powerless against those who might hurt her.

  There’s a single, sharp rap on the door before Nix St Clair walks in. “Am I interrupting your evening prayers?” she asks with a smirk.

  Lisa shakes her head. “I was just thinking that I feel different since this afternoon. More powerful.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Nix says, rummaging in the bottom drawer of the beat up old desk. “But more prepared, for sure.” She holds aloft a bottle - obviously containing something of an alcoholic nature. “Nightcap?” she asks and produces a couple of mismatched glasses.

  She settles on the old desk chair, half fills the tumblers, and spins around to hand one to Lisa. “Slainte,” she says before downing her own.

  “Cheers,” Lisa echoes, taking a healthy swallow and chokes, her throat on fire. “My God,” she croaks. “What is that?”

  Nix peers at the bottle. “Oops. You were expecting scotch, weren’t you?”

  Lisa nods, still unable to speak.

  “Cash’s late father was in the moonshine business,” Nix explains. “By the time he was 10, Cash knew how to break down a still before the law arrived and reassemble it someplace else. We have one now mainly for a supply of medical disinfectant, but - once in awhile we apply it internally.”

  She stands up suddenly and walks out of the room, leaving Lisa to wonder if Nix has decided she’s a failure as a drinking companion. But soon she returns with a pitcher of water.