The Infected Dead (Book 4): Exist For Now

by Howard, Bob

  “Doctor Nkrumah, are you saying that the virus was dormant until someone introduced human tissue into their diet?”

  “Yes, but not necessarily through cannibalism,” he said. “It could have been from eating seafood that had eaten human tissue.”

  Doctor Nkrumah was tapping on his calculator as he thought of how quickly the virus could have spread once it began. When he finished, he couldn’t believe the numbers himself. He held it out for Doctor Sellers to see.

  By his calculations, if everyone who died on the first day had the chance to bite ten people, and those victims all had the opportunity to bite just ten people, and each of those victims bit ten people, then the population of the Earth would be gone in about forty-six days.

  “Of course that number wouldn’t include the survivors who would be killing other survivors,” said Doctor Nkrumah. “There is always going to be attrition due to natural deaths or death by another cause, so it could be as little as forty days.”

  Doctor Sellers felt his knees become weak, and he had to find a chair.

  “We have to tell someone,” he said. “We have to warn the carrier group that we are meeting with. There are thousands of men and women on those ships, so we need to warn them that anyone who dies of natural causes or through accidents should be treated as if they died from a bite.”

  “Good luck convincing the Captain,” said Nkrumah.

  “We’re a hospital ship, Nkrumah. It’s our job to convince the Captain of such things. Why wouldn’t he believe us?”

  “We’re going to tell him that mankind will be extinct in just over a month, and you think he will listen?”

  Doctor Sellers knew that his friend was right. The best thing they could do was tell the Captain what their lab results revealed and allow him to come to his own conclusions. If he asked for an interpretation, they would give him one.

  The two doctors found the Captain in his stateroom instead of the bridge. He offered them each a seat, and then he explained that he was trying to decide whether they should continue across the Atlantic to rendezvous with the US Navy carrier group, or if they should go north to the United Kingdom.

  “I thought we were already committed to the rendezvous,” said Doctor Sellers.

  “We are, but we’re receiving distress calls from home, as well. In any case, we have a few days to decide. What was it you wanted to see me about?”

  They took their time explaining the results of the lab tests. It was clear that the Captain was distressed to hear that it wasn’t necessary to be bitten in order to become reanimated. It was also clear that he was able to draw the conclusions from the news.

  “At what rate will the world population decrease?” he asked.

  Doctor Sellers tried to remain noncommittal so the Captain could make his own decisions, so he just said, “It could reach near extinction levels in less than two months, Sir.”

  The Captain studied the two doctors, understanding that it was bad enough to keep them from giving him the direct answer he had asked for.

  “Thank you for your assessment, doctor, but at what rate will the population likely be eliminated by this pandemic?”

  Doctor Nkrumah answered for Doctor Sellers, “From two and a half to three percent of the population will die per day, Sir.”

  The Captain stood and walked over to a cabinet where he kept his private stock of liquor and poured three glasses. He didn’t ask either doctor if they wanted a drink. He just figured they could use one.

  “If we rendezvous with the Americans, how many men and women will they have on their ships?” asked Doctor Sellers.

  “There will be five thousand on the carrier alone,” he answered. “I know why you asked, Doctor Sellers. They are bound to have some crewmen die, but it is even more likely there is someone on board one of their ships who has already been bitten. Unless they have been screening their crews since the moment this began, someone is going to spread the disease.”

  Nkrumah cleared his throat to get the Captain’s attention and said, “They have good medical facilities on their ships. Why do they need a hospital ship unless they already plan to try to save people who have been bitten?”

  “That’s what I was wondering,” said the Captain. “My guess would be they are also thinking about using our Mercy Mission ship as a research vessel, which means they will want us to take bite victims on board for study.”

  “That wouldn’t be my first choice,” said Doctor Sellers.

  “Mine either,” said the Captain, “so keeping the rendezvous will have its risks. Still, I believe we are responding to an international request for assistance that we cannot decline. It would be much the same as ignoring a Mayday signal from another ship.”

  The Captain appeared to have made up his mind that they would be keeping their promise to meet with the American Navy, but he also had to think about the safety of his doctors.

  “You need to have a bodyguard with you at all times,” said the Captain. “When we meet with the Americans I will communicate to them that we are already a quarantine ship, and we will assist with research, but we will take no new patients. We could easily be overwhelmed.”

  “Why do we need a bodyguard?” asked Sellers.

  His tone wasn’t dismissive because he was speaking to the Captain, but he conveyed just enough doubt for the Captain to consider it an argument. He held up one hand, which was his trademark signal telling the crew to stop talking.

  To both of them he said, “I don’t need to tell you what can happen next. If this thing…this virus gets loose on the ship, we will all be dead before we can even reach the middle of the Atlantic. We won’t have to worry about what the Americans want from us.”

  Both doctors knew when they were getting a lecture that meant they didn’t need to talk, so they waited for the Captain to continue.

  The Captain picked up the phone on his desk and spoke with his personal yeoman. It wasn’t a full minute after he had placed the phone back on its cradle before there was a knock on the door. He opened it, and a familiar dark skinned woman dressed in what was known as the Navy Working Uniform Type One snapped to attention. The Captain stepped aside and motioned for the woman to enter. Her uniform was a US Navy version of camouflage, and she was wearing a Glock at her waist.

  The doctors had seen Cassandra Gibbs around the ship many times but had never gotten to know her. She was an African American woman who had been in the United States Army until a bullet had disqualified her from further combat duty. When she had seen the ad about volunteers needed to serve on Mercy Mission ships, she was happy to see that they also had openings for security personnel. It had been an easy choice for her. It would give her the opportunity to do what she enjoyed most, and she understood military life.

  When the door to the Captain’s office opened, she didn’t really know why she had been summoned, but she had been told to bring her sidearm. She was prepared to transfer it from the holster into a targeting position in one smooth motion if the Captain gave the order, so she was wound as tight as a coiled spring. She didn’t expect to see the two doctors sitting comfortably in front of the Captain’s desk holding glasses of what could only be liquor.

  “You sent for me, Captain?”

  When he motioned for her to step into the room, she looked around as if she expected to see some form of threat in the room, but all she saw was the three men.

  “Petty Officer Gibbs, I’m sure you know two of our finest doctors, Sellers and Nkrumah.”

  Both doctors stood out of reflex. They had been raised as gentlemen, and despite her military appearance and demeanor, she was still a woman. A woman most men would notice when she walked into a room because she was also very attractive. She had her jet black hair in a ponytail that swayed from side to side when she turned her head.

  They exchanged introductions and Cassandra relaxed. Whatever the Captain wanted, it didn’t involve a threat in his office.

  Captain Abbott circled around to the other side of his de
sk and motioned with one hand for Cassandra to sit in one of the vacant chairs next to the two doctors. Petty Officer Gibbs took a chair to the right of the doctors and shifted uncomfortably. She wasn’t used to being seated in the company of doctors, who carried officer rank on any ship, and the Captain.

  “Relax, Petty Officer Gibbs. I have an assignment for you. For the remainder of this cruise, however long it may be, you are the personal bodyguard of these two doctors. You are authorized to use deadly force at any time you feel one or both of them are in danger. Pick a detail of security officers you trust to fill in for you when you are sleeping or otherwise indisposed. Any questions?”

  “Yessir, is there a perceived threat? I assume you have something in mind if you are so concerned that you are willing to assign personal protection.”

  Cassandra eyed the two doctors as if she could read whatever it was they were needing protection from.

  “You saw what was happening on the docks as we left Douala?”

  “Yessir. Is there reason to believe we have bite victims on board?” she asked.

  “We already had patients under quarantine with the symptoms. We just didn’t know it yet.”

  Cassandra’s eyes got bigger at the news. She had heard the crew talking about what it would be like on the ship if the strange infection had come on board with the crew.

  The Captain continued, “Of course we would probably have tried to save people at first because we wouldn’t have known how dangerous the disease could be. As it stands, we brought people to our isolation ward not knowing that the dead would come back to life and attack so viciously. We lost a very good nurse before we knew to restrain the victims of this disease before they died. Your assignment is to shoot anyone who even looks like they are afflicted if they are not restrained.”

  Cassandra continued to study the doctors’ faces as if she was committing them to memory, but the truth was that she was wondering if either of them was infected. They had been the closest to the infection when it was brought onto the ship. She made a mental note to never let one of them get behind her.

  Doctor Sellers cleared his throat to get her attention and said, “The infected can only be permanently terminated by head trauma, Petty Officer Gibbs. If any are free from restraints, please do not hesitate to use your sidearm.”

  She looked at the Captain to see if he would confirm that order, and he gave her a silent nod.

  “I’ll need thirty minutes to organize my detail,” said Cassandra as she stood again. “Could the doctors be so kind as to remain here until I return for them?”

  All three men stood quickly, and they all nodded their agreement. Cassandra waited for the Captain to officially dismiss her, then she left the room. The two doctors and the Captain all exchanged looks, and they each noticed they were wearing the same expressions.

  “Is it just my imagination,” asked Doctor Nkrumah, “or do you two gentlemen feel like the authority in the room was the young lady who just left?”

  “I thought I was in charge up until a few minutes ago,” said Captain Abbott.

  The three of them laughed and settled back with their drinks. They had thirty minutes more to spend on planning the next steps.

  In the end, thirty minutes was more than they needed. A communication had arrived from the British Royal Navy instructing all ships to remain at sea, and any ship approaching the coast of Europe or the United Kingdom within one hundred miles of shore would be sunk. The Americans were taking it seriously, but they were at least operating within twenty miles of their own shores, so the Captain assumed they had possibly established some form of control of the situation.

  Petty Officer Gibbs returned in almost exactly thirty minutes with her detail of two men and two women. She introduced the four security officers to the doctors. They were all caring Glock sidearms, but each was also equipped with M4 rifles. They had collapsable stocks for easier carrying in the corridors of the ship, but if they needed more firepower, they could easily be brought to the shoulder. Gibbs had also added an M4 to her arsenal.

  “Doctors, may I ask that you remain together at all times within reason, and could you please inform us of your destination whenever you leave one area to move to another? If we get separated, it will be useful to know where you plan to be.”

  “Certainly,” said Nkrumah. “The first thing we plan to do is organize an examination of all members of the crew. We will use the large examining room near the isolation ward. If we find someone who has been bitten, we will move them to isolation and place them in restraints.”

  Doctor Sellers added, “We’ll need the entire crew manifest. I understand it has already been completed by the Chief of Security?”

  “Yessir, and he distributed it to all of his Petty Officers. I already have my copy.”

  She pulled a small binder from one of the broad utility pockets on her uniform pants and handed it to Doctor Sellers. He was impressed by her efficiency, and this would save them a lot of time.

  The Captain made another call from his desk and informed the Chief of Security that he wanted the examinations to begin immediately. He didn’t want to interfere with ship’s operations, but it had to happen fast if they were to believe they were not at risk.

  After being dismissed by the Captain, the doctors and their security detail returned to the medical area where they would conduct the examinations. Cassandra and her detail eyed the sheets of plastic dividing the isolation ward from the rest of the compartment. They could see the vague shapes in rows of beds on the other side, and the plastic hardly seemed like enough protection from the deadly disease. Some of the shapes on the beds were still, but some were obviously trying to escape from their restraints.

  “Don’t worry about them,” said Doctor Sellers. “We know they are infected, but they can’t harm anyone. It’s the ones we don’t know about that worry me.”

  “The crew?” she asked.

  “We boarded so quickly that no one had a chance to even think about it.”

  Cassandra bit her lower lip and said, “Surely they would tell someone.”

  “No, they wouldn’t tell anyone at first,” he said. “This is a hospital ship. Anyone who was bitten would think, “I can get treatment, so I’ll wait until we leave port, and then I’ll tell someone.”

  Doctor Nkrumah had been listening to the discussion and stepped over to add the bad news.

  “But word will have spread quickly throughout the ship that a bite was a death sentence. Somewhere on this ship there must be at least one person who is silently hoping that no one finds out about their wound.”

  Petty Officer Gibbs called together her detail and exchanged a few words. They acknowledged her orders and spread out around the medical bay. The Captain had intended for them to cover for her while she got some rest, but she didn’t see rest in her near future.

  The Chief of Security arrived fifteen minutes later with a larger detail and the first group of crewmen to be examined. The nurses and doctors had placed partitions strategically to allow for enough privacy, but they also had to be visible to the security personnel.

  The ship wide announcement informed the crew to assume port and starboard duty sections, and the port section would report for examinations first. In the terminology of the men and women at sea, that meant half the crew would run shipboard duties, while the other half reported to the medical bay. The roster provided by Petty Officer Gibbs showed that four hundred and eight people were on board. Two hundred and four were on their way to be examined.

  It seemed reasonable to expect that crewmen who hadn’t been bitten would arrive first, happy to be examined and then get as far away from the medical bay as possible. It seemed reasonable, but that wasn’t what they got.

  The very first crewman to walk between the partitions was sweating and immediately began trying to negotiate with the medical staff. He kept promising that he felt fine, and all he needed was antiseptic and a few stitches. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty, and his
accent was South American. He was afraid, and from what he had seen in Cameroon, he had a right to be.

  When the nurse tried to get him to go with an armed escort to the isolation ward, the young sailor tried to go back the way he had come. He kept insisting it was all a mistake. The men and women in line behind him began scattering away from him, and the entire security detail had its weapons drawn.

  The man turned and ran toward the only opening he saw, and it just happened to be where Doctor Nkrumah was standing. Only one shot was fired, but everyone except the security officers dropped to the deck. Cassandra Gibbs had been given the job of keeping Doctor Sellers and Doctor Nkrumah alive, and the job had officially started.

  The bullet from her Glock was a perfect shot that hit the young man about an inch above his right ear. He was no longer a threat, but everyone stayed where they were.

  “Okay, everyone. Listen up.”

  Petty Officer Gibbs knew she had to keep control over the situation, or it could become chaos in a hurry.

  “Everyone stay on the floor. Do not try to exit this room. If you do, it will be assumed you are infected, and you will be shot. The medical staff will rearrange the partitions, and you will be directed to stand when it is your turn to be examined.”

  Doctor Nkrumah could tell why Captain Abbott had selected Petty Officer Gibbs to be their bodyguard. She hadn’t hesitated when the sailor had run toward him, and it was a good thing because he had been frozen in his tracks.

  Once the partitions were rearranged and the body had been removed, the medical exams continued. A second bite victim was identified after almost one hundred crewmen had been checked, but unlike the previous victim, this sailor faced Petty Officer Gibbs and respectfully snapped off a crisp salute. She returned it with equal enthusiasm and appreciation. The man knew he was going to die, but he chose to do so with dignity.

  The port duty section finished their examinations, and another ship wide announcement was made for them to relieve the starboard section so they could report to the medical bay. The process took no more than thirty minutes, and the starboard duty section began arriving. Word had spread about the first bite victim, so the crew arrived without much conversation between them. They were somber and well aware of the security detail that was now holding weapons at the ready.