Pandemic: Level 6: A Post Apocalyptic Medical Thriller Fiction Series (The Pandemic Series Book 3)

by Bobby Akart

“Mac’s right,” added Doc. “I think I can get the supplies we need to treat the boy right here. What about Tommy?”

  “We’ll treat him as well,” said Mac as she turned and smiled at her father. “We’re gonna keep our heads cool, right, guys?”

  “That’s right,” added Tommy from the porch, trying to set an upbeat tone. “I don’t hear any fat lady singin’ yet!”

  Chapter 52

  Day Seventy-Two

  The Quarantine House

  Quandary Peak

  Doc returned just as the sun began to rise and attempted to muscle its light through the smoke. The winds had picked up again, causing a few fires to break out in the mountains, but the local residents had maintained a steady watch and were quick to douse them. Upper-level winds raced over the summit of Quandary Peak and down the northern face, creating interesting effects on the smoke. As he pulled up, he found Tommy and Marcus enjoying a breakfast of biscuits and trout. Lawn chairs had been set up on the front lawn, courtesy of the local neighbors’ homes.

  After Doc was introduced to Marcus and the young boy learned that Dum-Dums and Snickers bars were headed his way, he readily invited Janie and Doc inside to treat him. Tommy helped him up and Marcus leaned on his arm to have the strength to walk back inside.

  Doc and Janie exchanged a knowing glance. Marcus only has a couple of days.

  After getting suited up, they got Marcus settled in bed and started him on an IV drip. They began an aggressive gentamicin regimen of six milligrams per day, administered in eight-hour intervals. They gave Tommy instructions on how to manage his IV bags and the medications.

  To help him rest and manage his pain, Doc Cooley started on a mild, nonopiod analgesic. If the pain worsened after the first day, he’d take Marcus off the Tylenol and move onto tramadol, which was a synthetic equivalent of opiods. Marcus would be able to remain alert and keep Tommy apprised of his condition.

  Also, Tommy wanted to spend as much time with the boy as he could during his final days. No child should die in the dawn of his life, especially without the love of his mother and father by his side. Tommy vowed to remain by the young boy’s side and provide him all of the love and attention he deserved.

  After Marcus was settled in with his medications and fluids, he was rewarded with a handful of suckers. Tommy returned to the front porch and was met shortly thereafter by Janie and Doc.

  “Let’s talk about what happens next,” started Doc. “First, as it relates to Marcus. Mac and Janie have briefed me on the symptoms and progression of this strain of the plague. We all believe the boy is in the middle of the four-day symptomatic period. He’s already experiencing fever, weakness, and cough mixed with bloody mucus. Pustules have appeared on his back and chest.”

  “How much longer does he have?” asked Tommy.

  “Honestly, what we’ve done today will just make him comfortable,” replied Doc. “In the next twenty-four hours, he will begin to experience chest pain, have trouble breathing, and probably headaches as his body tries to fight the disease.”

  “As that happens, I’ll switch his pain meds,” said Tommy. “Out of precaution, I think we need to limit the number of times you guys have to come in here. These aren’t ideal working conditions, considering.”

  “Thanks, Tommy. You’re right,” added Janie. “All we can do at this point is make Marcus comfortable. You know what to do and of course we’re all going to be hanging out with you, except Mac. She went straight to the lab this morning.”

  “Janie, watch over her. She won’t sleep and we don’t need an accident.”

  “I will, Tommy. She won’t let me in the lab, but I’ll stand outside and watch her work. Hunter will too.”

  “Is he all right?” asked Tommy.

  Janie was about to answer when the sound of a dog barking startled her. It was Flatus, who was flying down the hill, back paws racing next to the front paws in a clumsy effort to slow down as he approached.

  Janie and Doc tried to corral him, but he easily raced past and bounded up the steps, crashing into Tommy in a heap. He immediately began to give Tommy kisses all over his face. Tommy shielded his face with his arm.

  “Oh no,” shouted Janie.

  Doc tried to urge the dog off the porch. He whistled and then said, “Come down here, boy. Come on, now!”

  “No!” shouted Janie, but in the excitement, Flatus started down the stairs toward them. Janie jumped in front of Doc and prevented him from advancing toward the dog. “Doc, you can’t risk it.”

  Tommy regained his footing and called Flatus back. The playful Lab immediately responded. He joined Tommy, his tail wagging furiously as it beat against the porch railing. Tommy held him by the collar.

  Barb ran up to the group, completely out of breath. She was holding onto an empty leash.

  “He—got—away. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, honey,” said Tommy. “Throw me his leash. Guys, he licked my face and nose. He actually licked inside my mouth ’cause I was laughing.”

  Janie tossed him the leash and helped Barb to stand. “I know. I saw it, too. We can’t risk it, Tommy. It’s not worth it.”

  “Honey, I’m so sorry,” said Barb as she started to cry. “I lost control of him and now look.”

  “Listen up, you guys,” started Tommy. “There’s been way too much crying for one day. Flatus and I are together and that’s the way we like it, right, boy?”

  Flatus looked up at Tommy and smiled, panting from the run and the action. He let out a gruff.

  “See? You guys go do your thing and I’ll introduce Flatus to Marcus. They’ll love each other and the three of us will make it through this together.”

  Barb continued to cry. She tried to pull away from Janie, but Doc helped restrain her. “Tommy, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Barb, you keep loving me like you always have and have faith in your daughter.”

  Chapter 53

  Day Seventy-Two

  Quandary Peak

  Working with laboratory mice was tedious, labor intensive, and tolerated no margin for error. Unlike the large well-ventilated BSL-4 Mac was accustomed to at the CDC, her work space was cramped and had very little ventilation, which limited her time to work. Also, it was beginning to smell of mice.

  Mac had exhausted the supply of laboratory rodents Janie had brought with her from Atlanta. The deer mice were her new test subjects, which created a significant problem—the variables had been modified.

  In an experiment, the elements that do not change are called controlled or dependent variables. Mac had been working with common lab mice from the species Mus musculus, the domesticated house mouse characterized by a pointed snout, small round ears, and a long, hairless tail. They were her controlled variable.

  The manipulated or independent variable in her experiments were the polypeptides created to bind with the vancomycin. She changed the levels based upon her observations and testing of the lab mice.

  Today, she had to start from scratch, at least in part. Deer mice were from the genus Peromyscus and were only distant cousins to the lab mice she’d been working with. Despite the obvious differences in appearance, especially when comparing their eyes and color, deer mice were far more difficult to work with.

  They were very energetic creatures and more difficult to handle than the relatively tame house mouse. They were, however, an acceptable species when dealing with infectious diseases, genetics, and chromosome research. Nonetheless, changing mice in the middle of an experiment would delay her work at a point in which the loss of time could kill her dad.

  Mac was exhausted from lack of sleep and an oversupply of worry. She vowed to use extra precautions as she worked today to avoid making a deadly mistake. Unfortunately, the newly captured deer mice refused to cooperate.

  The frustration with the little creatures started immediately, as Mac had forgotten about their incredible leaping ability. As soon as she opened the top of the cage, one jumped out and took off under the f
urniture.

  Wearing the bulky personal protective equipment, Mac attempted to capture the speedy mouse, to no avail. After thirty tiring minutes, she gave up and left Mighty Mouse to its own devices on the floor. She’d remember to bring in one of Hunter’s electrocution traps tomorrow and then she’d issue Mighty an ultimatum.

  Using more care, she grabbed another mouse and began her work. While she injected three of the rodents with the plague bacteria, her mind wandered as she thought of her dad.

  Tommy hadn’t been a stay-at-home dad per se, as he’d had a fulfilling career as a high school science teacher. But he was Mac’s primary parent. Her mother had spent a considerable amount of time at USAMRIID and traveling for the government. Tommy’s job had provided more of a regular workday experience.

  As Mac got older, she was able to return home from school on her own and would patiently wait until Tommy was able to wind up his day at the high school. She’d hear the snap of the bolt lock indicating her dad was home.

  “Daddy!” Mac would shout as she jumped into her father’s arms. Despite knowing how tired he was from teaching, she knew he’d lift her up higher than high to plant a smooch on her cheek.

  Then, Mac would put on her big-girl persona and ask, “What shall I make you for dinner tonight, Daddy?”

  Her proposed meals ranged from Sugar Smacks on the evenings they wanted to keep it simple to the more elaborate Kraft macaroni and cheese when she got permission to use the stove.

  Sometimes, Barb would have to travel and Tommy would put Mac to bed. He’d brush her hair and tell her stories about chemistry, physics, and science. He had a way of making these weighty subjects interesting to a young girl whose friends spent their time playing with Barbie dolls and Easy Bake Ovens.

  Eventually, she’d get sleepy and Tommy would tuck her in. He’d always kiss her on the forehead and leave the door ajar, promising to check in on her. Mac knew her dad would be there to protect her, forever.

  As she grew older and became a beautiful, mature young woman, she continued to be close to her dad. They’d share important moments in Mac’s life and continue to joke with one another as they did when she was a child.

  When she had the time, which wasn’t often enough, to her regret, she would have long conversations with Tommy. The subjects were wide and varied, but it didn’t matter. She was a young woman, a daughter, desperately trying to hold onto the special moments with her dad from childhood.

  Tommy had always been an invisible, unbreakable, and covert anchor in her life. She thought he’d always be there, standing at the door, to lift her up higher and higher every time she took a step forward into the world.

  And now, he was dying.

  Chapter 54

  Day Seventy-Two

  Cheyenne Mountain

  The cabinet of President Garcia consisted of the Vice President and the heads of fifteen executive departments. In addition, his governmental advisors came from the Joint Chiefs, the surgeon general, and his ambassador to the United Nations. There was no formal requirement for meeting with the people who filled these top posts within the United States government, although the President did meet with them individually often, and as a group, once or twice a year.

  The continuity-of-government provisions adopted by the Executive Branch and Congress over the years ensured the safety of these top leaders. In the history of America, there had never been a crisis in which the leaders of the country were confined to Cheyenne Mountain or any other protected facility for this length of time.

  The President met with his advisory team often, at first. As the weeks passed and the pandemic spread to every corner of the planet, President Garcia became increasingly paranoid. Soon, his morning briefings were restricted to his Chief of Staff and the Secretaries of Defense and Homeland Security.

  After he’d been briefed on the debacle at Fort Bliss, the President eliminated direct face-to-face contact with all advisors, despite the fact they’d been within the confines of Cheyenne Mountain continuously. He was not taking chances with his life and his position. Morse had become the liaison between the President and those individuals who were running the country and responding to crises.

  Andrew Morse appreciated the opportunity Tomas Garcia had given him when he decided to run for President. As President Garcia’s longtime friend and attorney, Morse relished the opportunity to sit at the right hand of the power wielded by the leader of the free world.

  Morse was conflicted. He feared the President was becoming mentally unstable. Under these unique circumstances, any person, especially one who bore so much responsibility and felt the weight of people’s lives on their shoulders, might have their bad days.

  The President’s days were all bad. His drinking had increased. Morse began to wonder if there was enough brandy in the massive supply storage room within the bowels of the mountain. Morse heard the whispers concerning the President’s increased seclusion from others, especially after the events at Fort Bliss.

  There was even talk of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment being invoked. The amendment was adopted in 1967 after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy to establish a procedure in case a president is incapacitated. Section Four of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment provided a mechanism whereby the Vice President and others could declare the President unfit, allowing the Vice President to assume the highest office in the land.

  Morse doubted such a powerful political maneuver would be formally introduced, much less succeed. But the rampant rumors were having the effect of diminishing the President’s directives at a time when he was seriously weighing his options to strike back at the terrorists who’d released this deadly plague on the world.

  The military options had been presented to the President, but none of them had been implemented. Many members of the cabinet confided in Morse. They felt the dropping of bombs in the Middle East would be counterproductive at a time when the world needed to come together in order to survive.

  Others were fearful of the diplomatic ramifications. The State Department had opened back-channel dialogues with China, Russia, Iran, and Iraq regarding the possibility of a strike. State was concerned an action of this magnitude could be misconstrued by the most powerful nations on the planet as a preemptive act of war.

  The State Department wanted the message to be loud and clear. Any action taken by the United States, regardless of the location of the target, was designed to obliterate the command and control structure and the fighters of the Islamic State.

  Morse entered the new conference room, which had been created out of a guest room in the presidential suite. One entrance into the guest room came directly from the open parlor in the President’s quarters, and the other was created with a common wall overlooking the primary operations center.

  The existing wall was replaced with bulletproof glass partitions retrieved from a massive construction and maintenance room in the bottom of the complex. The President wanted to be able to observe the massive monitors, which displayed everything from military activity to live cameras in major cities to updated data on the death toll.

  The only person granted an access key to the new entrance was Morse. When he entered the conference room, he was required to sit at the other end of the twelve-foot-long table. For three days, twelve feet was the closest anyone came to the President of the United States.

  Morse provided the President the Daily Brief, a summary of intelligence and analysis concerning national security, domestic hot spots, and now, an up-to-date assessment of the pandemic. He sat down while the President opened the cover and then immediately discarded the report.

  “Andrew, dispense with the preliminaries. I’m done equivocating on our military options. My decision is made and it’s time for it to be implemented. They’ve got to pay for what they’ve done to our nation and the rest of the world.”

  Chapter 55

  Day Seventy-Three

  Qandil Mountains

  Under the cover of darkness, the massive ISIS sleeper
cell networks received notices by way of satellite telephone and Internet connections. It was time for the jihadists to travel to their rally points, places centrally located where transportation and weapons awaited them.

  In the Philippines, Indonesia, and Bangladesh, fighters would attack friends of the West, namely Japan and Australia. More than enough terrorist cells existed throughout Europe to initiate jihad. Ordinarily, America would have presented a tremendous challenge, but it’s military had been decimated by disease and the will of its people had been broken. It was time to initiate the crowning blow in their quest to expand the caliphate worldwide.

  Hassan and al-Baghdadi had carefully orchestrated a war against the West and they were winning. The ratio of the Islamic faithful to the infidels had grown considerably in their favor. Their calculations showed that within a few days, the world’s population would have dropped to less than one percent of the seven billion that existed eleven weeks ago. Seventy million people was the approximate population of the world at the end of the first millennium in the year 1100, during the middle of the Islamic Golden Age.

  For Hassan and al-Baghdadi, their dreams of a world dominated by Islam were coming to fruition and the two leaders were ready to lead their people. Hassan wanted to avenge the losses of his son and brother by personally leading the fight in America.

  The fighting would be brutal and ideological. The Americans would be surprised at the strength of the terrorists’ organizational roots throughout the nation. Hassan would strike quickly while the American people were afraid to show their faces, spending their days cowering behind closed doors in fear of contracting the plague.

  In Europe, the sleeper cells would overwhelm the people with sheer force. In the United States, his men would be armed and also well-equipped to avoid the disease. They would use weapons of mass destruction in the form of dirty bombs, a devastating weapon that combined radioactive material with conventional explosives.