by Hunt, Jack
“Is that where you went earlier?”
“No, I went to check on my brother. I then took a browse around the town to see where soldiers were stationed. For the most part they are focused on the main stretch, the roads in and out, the university, and around the perimeter, though they aren’t doing a good job with that. I saw several people managed to get out on dirt bikes.”
“Amateurs,” Brody said.
They continued on until he veered onto I-90 and headed east. “You taking us out of town?”
“No, but I saw some of their troops parked by Penny’s Diner. I guess they’re taking advantage of our good ol’ home-style cooking.”
“And?”
“Just follow my lead. Trust me,” Gottman said.
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
They veered into the lot outside across from the Oak Tree Inn and Gottman told him to wait while he went inside. Brody stayed in the vehicle as it idled and looked through the windows at some of the patrons who were either blissfully unaware or too scared to do anything but go with the flow.
Penny’s Diner was what some might have labeled a greasy spoon hellhole on the side of the road, but to locals it was a slice of home. Brody had taken Nick there countless times for breakfast while visiting him. The food was good. The prices were reasonable and staff were friendly. On the outside it looked like a house of mirrors with warped-looking steel that stretched for twenty yards, and gave you the impression that you were entering a steel works, but looks could be deceiving. Inside it was narrow, like a train car, and had a retro feel to it with tables along the wall and shiny stools dotted along the breakfast counter. The floors were checkered in black and white and there was a Victorian style to the ceiling.
Brody observed the military truck in the lot and waited.
Several minutes went by before Gottman reappeared followed by two soldiers. He was acting all theatrical, waving his arms around and pointing in a direction heading out of town. He broke away from the soldiers while they hurried to their truck. Gottman jumped in. “Okay, head out, they’re going to follow us.”
“What did you tell them?” Brody asked.
“That I had got wind of a group of people who were looking to leave town tonight, and one of them was showing symptoms of the flu.”
“They’re going to radio for backup, you do know that?”
“No time. I said they had minutes before they left and if they didn’t deal with it now the major was going to have their asses for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Gottman.”
“Trust me,” he replied.
They traveled east, then north up Country Club Estates Drive. It was a barren stretch of land with nothing out there except a few ranches and cattle. They took a hard left on to Las Auras, a dead-end road that cut into the heart of the desert. Already Brody was starting to get a bad feeling about this. He glanced in his mirror at the truck following them.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Turn your lights on.”
“Why?”
Gottman reached over and flipped the switch. “Confusion. Distraction. It makes it look official.” He pointed to a desolate space at the side of the road near an old barn that looked as if it was one windstorm away from being flattened. “Park there.”
Brody pulled in and Gottman jumped out.
“Follow my lead.”
Gottman pulled his service weapon and pointed it towards the old derelict barn while keeping behind the opened door. By the time Brody got out, the truck behind them had come to a stop. He heard the sound of boots pounding the earth before one of them came up alongside him.
“You got a bead on them?”
“Gottman. You see anything?” Brody shouted, trying to play along. On his side another soldier had taken up position. The two soldiers began talking about the best way to approach it. Gottman gave a nod to Brody and then struck one soldier across his face with the butt of his gun.
The other soldier reacted but it was too late, Brody was on him and took him to the ground. They wrestled on the ground for control and the soldier’s gun went off twice. Before he could even attempt to get Brody off him, Gottman came around and knocked him out with his buddy’s rifle.
Out of breath, Brody went to get up.
“Right. Strip ’em,” Gottman said.
Chapter 11
The evening’s conference call between Colonel Lynch, Daniel Sorenson, the president and FEMA representative Margaret Wells had been weighing heavily on Lynch’s mind all day. The president wanted to be kept updated on the situation and since the initial outbreak she hadn’t spoken with him. It was not just the nation’s security that was on the line, it was her career, and she hadn’t come this far to lose it now.
On her laptop in front of her the screen was split into four, Daniel Sorenson was beside her looking like a bag of nerves. It would be the first time he’d ever addressed the president and he’d made it clear that he wasn’t pleased that it was under these circumstances.
Lynch rubbed her eyes and took a sip of coffee.
The president was the last to join them. She felt her heartbeat speed up as she attempted to put on a brave front, and convey a sense that she had the situation in hand.
“It’s under control right now,” Lynch said. “As it stands we have it isolated to the hospital here in Alpine and a high school in Marfa. We have been testing those showing symptoms, looking for a possible way of reversing it. Anyone showing symptoms has been isolated and should die within seventy-two hours.”
“Those are the known ones, yes?” Wells asked.
Lynch nodded.
“Known ones?” the president asked.
Wells added, “Well it’s possible that this has spread beyond the quarantine sites.”
Lynch could tell where she was going with this. The contagion may have managed to go beyond that, being as many people visiting the hospital and the school prior to their arrival may have become infected. She could only deal with what was in front of her right now and as it stood, the soldiers that were in the towns hadn’t reported any further incidents to the major.
“Colonel?” The president fished for an answer.
“Of course it’s possible. However, we are doing the best we can under the circumstances. We have a limited number of soldiers here and even though both towns are small in size, we cannot account for those who might have come in contact with infected citizens before we arrived. But as it stands Major Brown is monitoring the situation minute to minute.”
“What a screw-up,” the president said before running a hand over his face. “I’m surprised no one has managed to leak out video to the Internet. If the media or public catch wind of this we are going to have a firestorm on our hands that will make Watergate look like child’s play.”
“Have there been any casualties?” asked Wells.
Lynch dropped her head. She’d received word of two incidents so far, one at the school and one in the hospital, where her men had no other choice but to kill.
“Colonel. Please tell me you have not opened fire,” the president said.
As much as she didn’t want to insult the man, she wasn’t going to stand by and let someone turn the tables on her when he had specifically been the one to guide their actions. “Sir, you instructed us to take whatever measures possible in order to ensure that this did not spread. We are the ones here with boots on the ground trying to handle a matter so this doesn’t blow up and affect your position in the next election. We are the ones making the hard decisions. Anyone who has been killed so far would have died within seventy-two hours anyway. The protection of our soldiers and those not infected is the priority here and as you made very clear, we are to ensure this doesn’t spread at all costs. Yes. There have been two people killed but both were a threat.”
He shook his head, unable to believe that this was happening under his watch. She didn’t envy his position. If it ever got out, it wouldn’t be her name dragged through the mud, it would
be those in the White House. The public would always see people like her as pawns in a game. People trying to serve their country and follow the requests of a leader.
Instead of replying to that, he asked, “What can you tell me about this? I’ve read over the report but it doesn’t make sense. I feel like there is some information that is being left out.”
“You and me both,” Sorenson chimed in.
They all directed their gaze to him.
“And you are again?” the president asked.
Sorenson cleared his throat. “Daniel Sorenson, sir. Epidemiologist for the CDC. I’m the one running the tests.”
“Ah, well maybe you can shed some light on this mystery.”
“I can only tell you what we have discovered so far. It’s not much, and some of it is theory right now until we run some more tests.”
“Sorenson, just tell me what you know.”
He nodded. “If the report reads correctly, the military’s goal in Project Icarus was to work with a third-party biotechnology lab to develop advanced forms of bioelectronic medicines that could suppress fear in soldiers so that the chances of success on missions would be higher. Essentially it would deal with fear and anxiety by targeting a specific region of the brain called the amygdala. In a nutshell, this area processes fear, triggers anger, and motivates us to act. Essentially it alerts us to danger and activates our fight-or-flight response. Our basic survival instinct. The prefrontal cortex in which the amygdala resides has been known to control reasoning, judgment and generally helps us to think logically before we act.”
“Speak to me in English, Sorenson,” the President said in frustration.
Sorenson looked at Lynch and she gave a nod.
“Sir, it’s a bit like watching a horror movie. If it’s scary and you hear a noise outside, your amygdala might tell you to get up and lock the door. While the prefrontal cortex knows there is no ax murderer outside, you are likely to take action and get up and lock that door. Or let’s say you watch a sad movie. Even though someone might not die in the film, you may begin to cry anyway. Essentially certain circumstances can set off false alarms, which unleashes the same level of feeling as if the event was really happening. In a nutshell, it means the brain can’t tell what is dangerous and what isn’t. Everything seems like a threat. If we take this to the next level, the prefrontal cortex might remember what your nasty ex-partner looked like after she dumped you for someone else. The amygdala is responsible for the surge of fury that you might experience when you see someone that looks even vaguely like your former partner. And ‘vaguely’ is the specific word here. The amygdala judges whether or not the situation is hazardous. It compares the situation with your past emotionally charged memories. If any of the elements are somewhat similar — the sound of a voice, an expression on a face — the amygdala will set off alarm bells and you will feel an explosion of emotional response.”
The president sipped at a glass of water. “Okay but then why are people dying? And why are people harming themselves? Or lashing out?”
Sorenson glanced at the colonel as if making sure it was okay to share his findings. Lynch made a gesture. “Go ahead, Sorenson, explain what you know,” she said.
“Urbach Wiethe disease is a rare genetic disorder that affects individuals neurologically and dermatologically. It is also responsible for damage to the amygdaloid region. If you recall in the report, the studies into creating a drug that could reduce anxiety and fear in our soldiers came to the attention of the military after media outlets began reporting about a subject that couldn’t feel fear. The person was suffering from Urbach Wiethe. Based on that information and the studies that were performed, they learned that patient zero showed signs of curiosity towards things that others would usually fear, such as handling live snakes and spiders, and other scenarios that logically most would avoid. Instead of an avoidance reaction, patient zero evoked curiosity. Even in the face of death there was no desperation or urgency.”
“This patient had no emotion?”
“No. The patient still had basic emotions such as happiness, sadness, surprise, disgust and anger, but the evolutionary aspect, that survival instinct inside of us that has led us to avoid danger and discomfort, was gone. Instead of processing danger, the patient would go towards it. You name it. Heights, bugs, confined spaces, water, public speaking, needles, even stepping out in front of traffic. We usually will form a negative association with such things, but patient zero was unafraid and curious approaching the very thing that should be avoided. In fact there was a study done on mice that found when the amygdala was damaged, the mice would actually go towards cats. It essentially proved that fearful memories could be erased. This is why the military was excited to study this and incorporate it into their soldiers except it went wrong and they became unstable and it accelerated, so instead of only affecting the amygdala it spread to other parts of the brain and eventually caused death.”
“Okay, well that explains the fearless aspect of all of this and the deaths but why are some lashing out?”
“Perception of fear-based threats. They lose all reasoning.”
“But you said they exhibit signs of no fear? Which is it?”
“Both, sir. The goal was no fear in the soldiers but it went wrong. This is unstable. Again it’s a complex issue, Mr. President. I’m still running tests but what I can determine, based on what has been shared with me and the findings we have learned about since arriving here, is that each patient is essentially experiencing a pendulum of emotion. From being fearless and curious, to outright frozen in fear, through to angry and fearful. The best way to understand it is to go back to the hunter-gatherer times. Our basic survival instinct of fight-or-flight was governed by the amygdala. It had to quickly respond to any potential threats. Was something bad? Could it hurt us? It would send a signal to the brain, which in turn would create a response in the body from a flood of adrenaline to react or freeze up the muscles. All of this would happen within a matter of milliseconds so that a person might explode with rage or freeze in fear. It’s what we refer to as reacting first, and thinking later. When the amygdala is damaged, instead of being only fearless, we are seeing a range of emotions. People are unstable and eventually adrenaline causes a cardiac arrest. Essentially, Mr. President, these people are losing control, they are at the mercy of their own basic survival instinct.”
“Well how have you been able to identify those who have it?”
“Symptoms associated with Urbach Wiethe disease are quite clear but there are also things like headaches, aches, chills, fever, coughing and red eyes. So obviously it’s hard to distinguish visually who has it until at least twelve hours into infection. Most would simply consider it as nothing more than flu symptoms, anger and fear.”
“And it’s transferrable?”
“By way of blood and saliva. Someone coughs on some money and that gets spread around, you now have another infected person. It can be as simple as that. Again though, we are still in the early stages of verifying all of this but over the coming days we should have a more concrete answer for you. Right now we are in foreign territory with this.”
He nodded and silence stretched before them all.
“Okay, we need to talk about the worst-case scenario here. First off, what steps are being taken to treat those who have the symptoms? Can it be cured?”
Sorenson chimed in. “We are running trials of different types of drugs on those exhibiting symptoms. So far we haven’t seen a change but again there is no cure for Urbach Wiethe disease which was the foundation upon which the initial round of drugs for the soldiers was based.”
“We are in contact with the third-party company that was involved in creating it to determine what was used beyond Urbach Wiethe disease samples. We should have an update within the next twenty-four hours,” Wells added.
“Make it twelve,” the president said in frustration. “This has gone on longer than it should. If for any reason this has breached the towns we
may have a national emergency on our hands and if anyone has this and has boarded an international flight this may have gone global. Have there been any reports beyond these two towns?”
“No, sir.”
“Well let’s hope not.”
Lynch saw an opportunity to chime in and provide a glimmer of hope, while at the same time making herself look good and right now she was willing to do whatever it took. “Sir, if I may…” she trailed off.
“Go ahead, colonel.”
“We have isolated six people who were exposed to those infected but appear to be immune,” she said looking at Sorenson for his support. She raised an eyebrow and Sorenson backed her up.
“That’s correct. That’s what we are currently working with right now. If we can establish why it’s not affecting them or hasn’t so far then we might be able to create a cure for this.”
“And in the meantime?” the president asked.
“We will take whatever steps are necessary to keep this contained to Alpine and Marfa. However, we may need more troops. Our biggest concern right now is tourists or family members visiting from out of town. They will want to know what is happening so we have to come up with some cover story.”
“A gas leak,” Wells said.
The president shook his head. “That might work however you won’t be able to prevent people from returning back and putting that out to the media. That alone might cause the media to come sniffing for a story. We cannot allow eyes on this scene so this has to be handled immediately.”
“And by that you mean?” Sorenson asked, curious. Lynch already knew.
The president didn’t reply to that, he said he had another meeting to attend but expected this to be handled as efficiently and as quickly as possible. They had his full support and authorization to take drastic measures to keep it contained. With that, he signed off leaving only the three of them on screen.
Wells dropped her head and sighed. “Colonel Lynch, I will make arrangements to have a team from FEMA arrive later this evening to offer additional support. If you need more troops I would contact Major Brown and put that into place now. You know what will happen if this situation escapes your hand.”