by Welker, Wick
“You’re not on any medications and you don’t have any health problems, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever been diagnosed with leukemia?”
“No, for the one-millionth time of answering that question.”
Stark laughed, “Yes, I know all our repeated questions get a little annoying.”
“Can I please get out of these restraints?”
Stark thought for a moment, “How long ago were you bitten?”
“Over twenty four hours.”
“Yes, let me help you out.” He quickly unlatched the padded restraints. “I’m sorry about that. It was a precaution. Now, Mrs. Sanders--”
“Just call me Ellen.”
“Okay, Ellen, can you recount to me everything that’s happened since the outbreak? Anything unusual?”
“Well,” she let out a long breath, “Let’s see, I was attacked by two different men in my own home, stuffed into a refrigerator in an elementary school. We completely lost my five-year-old daughter and my husband decided just to leave town without looking for her. Thankfully we found her crawled up in the back of a car stole. Oh, I was also electrocuted, so there’s that too.”
“That’s terrible. How did you get electrocuted?”
“A power line got dragged down by a big crowd of infected people. It fell right on top of me and knocked me out for about an hour.”
“I must say that you are very unique in that you are the first person we’ve seen that has been bitten, who didn’t get infected and doesn’t have leukemia.”
“What does having leukemia have to do with it?”
“People who’ve been getting bitten without symptoms have temporary immunity from the virus, because they have leukemia.”
“So it is a virus?”
“Yes…” he hesitated, “it is.”
“Well, do whatever you need to do. Take my blood and sample everything you need. Find a cure or vaccine or whatever it is you smart people are supposed to be doing right now.”
Stark was saddened thinking about all the smart people that had failed to do anything. The smart people were responsible for everything and did nothing to fix the problems. “Okay, Ellen, I am going to have quite a bit more tests run on you, even some genetic ones to find out if there is anything about your genes that may have made you resistant.”
“That’s fine. Just find my husband,” she added with a stern tone. “And make sure my daughter is okay. They took her to the pediatric hospital.”
“What’s your daughter’s name?”
“Jayne Sanders. Spelled with a Y.”
“Okay, I will check on her.”
As Stark left the room, he thought about what could’ve possibly made this woman so special that she was the only one to survive from millions of other people that have been bitten. He began to walk down the hallway to find a phone when he saw Dr. Louis walking quickly up to him.
“Hey, you know that guy from the special military unit?”
“Yes, Ortega right? He’s just out of surgery.”
“He’s dead.”
“What? When?”
“Just now.”
“I thought the surgery went okay?”
“The surgery was fine. He killed himself. He’d been keeping a gun under his mattress and shot himself right in the head. His poor nurse saw the whole thing.” Dr. Louis shook his head, keeping his eyes wide open.
“I’ve got to make some calls,” Stark said, turning down the hallway, away from Dr. Louis.
Chapter twenty four
Rambert was seated at the same small dining room table where he yelled at the President the day before. The room was hot with stifling air from all the men who were seated around the table. The Chief of Staff of the Army had brought in an entire entourage of military men on a helicopter, annoying Rambert that he had so many men with him. His name was Colonel Harding and Rambert thought he looked utterly ridiculous in his fancy military suit with white tennis shoes peeking out from the bottom of his pants.
He was sure that Colonel Harding was some sort of great and powerful military man in his career with many accomplishments that had helped get him to the position he was in. The country in which he had succeeded in was gone and the Secretary of Health who had no staff and essentially no power now ran it. This clearly had not dawned on Harding who looked back at Rambert with a stern face, ready to take charge of the country’s situation. Their arguments had been brief but numerous.
“Mr. President.” Harding kept addressing Rambert as the President but there was always a slight shift in his voice when he said it, as if he were still trying to understand that the Secretary of Health was now the President. “We no longer have any options.”
“Where are you even getting all this intel? Communications are down everywhere.”
“I have had much at my disposal at our headquarters in Wisconsin where I’ve been for the last three days. I know more than anyone right now what is going on in the country.”
“What headquarters?”
“Classified.”
“I’m the President.”
“Yes, of course. We have a military intel base in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Probably one of the biggest underground intelligence gathering structures in the world.”
“You’re kidding. In Wisconsin?”
“Yes, sir and I was just there this morning.”
“And?”
“New York State, Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware and now Virginia are all compromised by the infection confirmed by satellite imaging. At the rate at which the infection is spreading, we will lose the country in two weeks.”
“What do you want to do, Colonel?”
“Every other country in the world is seeing the same satellite images that I am. They think that we are struggling to contain the infection.”
“Well, they’re right. What do you propose we do about it?”
“China is inside the Chesapeake Bay with their naval force which includes aircraft carriers full of jets. We believe they intend to invade D.C. in the next hour.”
“I’m aware. Have you received any communication from the Chinese?”
“Yes, very little. They claim they are here to help the U.S. contain the infection, but I don’t believe them. They’ve repeatedly ignored our request for no interference.”
“Colonel Harding?” Rambert stopped him. “Please tell me what your plan is.”
“We use a nuclear strike to decrease the rate of spread and then contain the perimeter of the infection with military units that I’ve finally been able to mobilize from all over the country. We will have plenty of manpower to stop the spread once we give a big blow with a nuclear weapon.”
“You want to drop a nuclear warhead on our capital?”
“Yes, absolutely. I want to drop three of them to cover the upper Eastern coast.”
“So you want to drop three nuclear warheads?”
Harding just stared back at Rambert with a clenched jaw and didn’t respond. The room fell silent as the group of men watched Rambert. He could see their doubting faces as they looked at him, waiting for him to speak.
Harding spoke up again, “Mr. Rambert, China is at our doorstep. The strike will also… deter them.”
“Oh, you mean kill them.”
“Yes.”
“And us?”
“We don’t matter. Our country is what matters here. We can try to evacuate as many people as we can from the coast, but we need to act now. We need to act within the next hour.”
“So you want to contain the infection, kill millions of Americans and start a third world war?”
“Sir, we must do something right now. Right this minute or we will lose this country.”
“Yes, we do need to act. I know,” Rambert said sincerely. As critical as he was of the Colonel, he knew that options were getting low. What have I been waiting for, he thought, the cleverer option because it is out there. “Do you know how many non-infected sur
vivors remain in the compromised states?”
“We don’t have exact numbers but it is undoubtedly in the millions. I mean these are some of the most densely populated states in the country. Not everyone fled. A lot of people are hiding and just fighting off the infected. They will be killed in the nuclear strike,” Harding pointedly added.
“Have you lost anyone, Colonel?”
“Yes, my wife and daughter.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I want you to order the strike.”
“Yes, sir.” Harding quickly stood up.
“Hold on. I want you to order it, but you are not authorized to actually complete the strike yet. We need to show posturing to the Chinese. We will show them what we intend to do if they don’t leave. They need to know that the United States still has a capable government.”
“Mr. President, are we going to do the nuclear strike?”
“I will decide when the moment comes.”
“I don’t agree with that at all. With all due respect, Mr. Rambert, you’ve been the Secretary of Health up until today.”
“And I’m the legitimate President now. If you have indeed already given up on our country and the laws that we have in place, you can go ahead and start a coup right now. Otherwise, as Commander in Chief, you must do exactly as I say. Are we still the United States?”
“Of course, Mr. President. I will get the bombs in the air immediately and communicate with the Chinese of our intentions.”
“Thank you, Colonel Harding.” Rambert stood up as Diane entered the room.
“Mr. President, Dr. Stark is on the sat phone for you.” She brought him a large, rubber phone with an enormous antenna stuck on top. The rest of the men exited the room as Rambert brought the phone to his ear.
“Reggie, tell me anything.” Rambert let the desperation come out in his voice, surprising Stark.
“What’s going on over there?”
“I’ve just ordered a nuclear strike that will take place in an hour.”
“On us? Here?”
“Yes. I’ve waited. I’ve tried to let the alternatives come to me, but this is what we are faced with.”
“Okay then,” Stark said quietly.
“Do you have anything?”
“Well, yes, but it sounds like it’s all too late. It’s nothing I can work out immediately.”
“What is it?”
“We have a woman who was bitten but not infected. She doesn’t have leukemia and the nano-virus is nowhere in her system. She’s completely immune as far as I can tell.”
“Is there workable research you can do? Anything that’s promising enough to delay the strike?”
“I mean, no, no I don’t think so. It’s going to take weeks just to start figuring out any genetic differences that she may have in her blood proteins or maybe her electrophysiology. Maybe something with her electrical nervous system is short-circuiting the nano-particles or…” He stopped and went silent.
“Reg? Are you there?”
“She told me she was electrocuted.”
“So?”
“I’ll call you right back.”
Stark hung up the phone and grabbed a police officer that was standing down the hall from him, spinning him around. The officer stumbled sideways and fell over onto the floor. His hand went for his gun as he looked up at the sweating man in a white coat.
“Taze me!” Stark said to him.
“What’re you doing?” The officer got up to his feet with his hand still on his side gun.
“Do you have a Taser?”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m the White House chief of staff and I’m a doctor here. This sounds strange but I need you pull out your Taser and hit me with it.”
“I will taze you if you don’t get out of my face right this second.”
“Good!” Stark walked up to him and pushed his chest.
“Hey!” The officer pulled out his gun.
“No, don’t shoot me. You need to taze me. Trust me; this is extremely important. I’ve been researching the outbreak and this will help me figure something out. Just do it!”
The officer looked back and forth, put his gun in its holster, and slowly took out his Taser.
“That’s right. Do it now.”
“Have you ever been tazed? It’s not fun. They make us do it for training.”
“Just do it, now!” Stark slapped his hands on his own chest.
The next moment, Stark felt the metal bite of the Taser wires and then a simultaneous contraction of all his muscles as he dropped to the floor. His entire body jerked back and forth across the tile as electricity hummed through his tissues. He wanted to scream from the pain but his jaw was clenched shut. The current lasted another ten seconds and then stopped. He gasped in a large breath of air and curled into a ball, not moving. It was way more painful than he could’ve imagined. His mind went blank for a moment and he forgot what he was even trying to do.
“Are you okay?” The officer said, crouching over him.
“Yes, yes I think so.” Stark’s body felt as if it were on fire. His mind was dull for a moment later and then he came out of the painful daze. “Dr. Louis!” He yelled out.
Dr. Louis was already scurrying down the hall towards him. “I’m here. What the hell happened?”
“Take a blood sample from me right now. Run it under the electron microscope and see if the virus is there. You need to do this as fast as humanly possible. Nothing else matters right now.”
“Okay, yes.” He crouched down, drew a vial full of Dr. Stark’s blood, and quickly ran off.
Stark got to his feet and started to walk towards the basement lab where he knew Dr. Louis was running the sample. His mind was spinning with strategy, trying to make connections once again, looking for the answer. Could it be so simple? He stopped himself from hoping because he was afraid that nothing would work again. Nothing would work and the bomb would drop and it would be as if he never was, like he never got married or went to school for fifteen years or screwed up his career. Pretty soon, nothing would probably ever matter again. The flash of white light would simply erase him and erase everyone around him. He just happened to be the poor bastard who got stuck in the middle of everything at the end. Rambert was wrong, Stark had nothing special. There was no reason for him to have been involved. Even if Rambert had picked someone different to figure out a cure, that person would have failed too. This is just how everything was supposed to go. All things led to this. Everything is fleeting with life he thought, remembering Eli’s poem, but eternal with beauty. Again, he attempted to replay happy memories in his mind as he imagined a nuclear blast enveloping the building.
Yet, something glimmered in his mind; a premature excitement that he dared not indulge yet. He was building up solution scenarios, which were constantly shattered by his morose idea of fate. This is how the world is supposed to go, he reminded himself.
He shuffled into the basement lab where Dr. Louis was already looking into the electron microscope at Stark’s blood sample. He was silent for a moment and then looked up at Stark.
“Have a look.”
He bent down cautiously, breathed smoothly through his lips and put his face to the eyepiece of the microscope. He saw the smooth contours of red blood cells mixed together with the spindly shapes of various white blood cells mingling together. Amongst the cells were amorphous metallic structures that either had clumped together or were scattered loosely about the field of vision.
Stark looked up from the microscope and looked at Dr. Louis. “There’s no virus.”
“No, there’s not.”
“This is my blood?”
“Yep.” He smiled at him. “What did you do?”
“I think I see molecular debris, like the viruses have been… broken up.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.”
“Maybe.” Stark rolled back in the small lab chair and briefly stared at the floor
. His body was motionless but his mind was moving gears and converging ideas. There was an answer, he thought. There is an answer for everything. He imagined waving Chinese flags marching up over Capitol Hill, fighting off the infected and entering the halls of Congress in a symbolic coup. In his mind’s eye, a single American stealth jet dropped a large metallic cylinder, which would consume the city in a flash, obliterating two enemies at once. However, there was another way, wasn’t there; just a simple tweak of these exact events that were about to transpire in the next few minutes. He could feel that there was a slightly different permutation of the chess pieces and they wouldn’t have to sacrifice so much to survive.
Standing up from his chair, Stark looked at Dr. Louis. “What is it?” He asked.
“I think I know what to do.” He ran out of the room.
Skipping each step, he was making sloppy calculations in his head, trying to estimate impact radius and atmospheric effects. He was delirious with the amalgamation of ideas that were racing in his mind. This is it, he thought. I suppose this is the way it is supposed to be. I am here, right now, to figure this one out.
At the top of the steps, he sprinted down a long corridor towards the patient floor where he kept the satellite phone. Bursting through the double doors, he found the phone and dialed Rambert.
“Rambert,” Rambert said calmly.
“Detonate the nukes in the sky!” Stark shouted into the phone.
“Why?”
“It was the electrocution of the woman that destroyed the virus in her. The nano-virus must short circuit when exposed to an electrical current. I just passed a small current through me and the virus is all broken up now in my blood.”
“You’re kidding me? How?”
“I’m not sure but it might have something to do with the metallic nature of the nanoparticles, making them susceptible to electricity or magnetism.”
“Wait, so what does blowing up a nuclear warhead in the sky have anything to do with this?”
“Because,” he said excitedly, stumbling over his words, “because if we detonate in the sky, about fifteen miles up from my very rough estimation, the explosion will create a high-altitude electromagnetic pulse!”