Pestilence: The Infection Begins

by Craig A. McDonough

  “What? That’s, that’s crazy!” Moya was aware that as a businessman of Thorncroft’s standing, honesty and integrity wouldn’t be high on the list of personal traits, but judging by his lack of concern shown for the discovery of live bacteria in the vaccine, he now suspected that deceit most likely was. He would also take the information of the patients becoming blood sucking vampires, with a grain of salt—for now.

  “My thoughts exactly, but here is something else I know.” Thorncroft paused to allow the details to digest more. “If this becomes public knowledge, it will not only cost us billions in lost contracts but billions more when the reputation of Thorn Bio-Tech has been torn asunder, even if they can’t prove anything. You do understand, don’t you?”

  Moya was sure, however, that the live bacteria that found its way into the vaccine wasn’t by accident; but it would be as hard to prove as Lee Harvey Oswald’s innocence. Thorn, as one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in Europe, would be ruined, and Thorncroft now took the time to point the importance of the plan; it had to be salvaged—somehow.

  Yes, Moya understood only too well: he couldn’t escape his involvement not matter where he ran to.

  “Of course, Mr. Thorncroft, of course.”

  He’d made his bed, he rationalized, so he may as well lie in it.

  “Good. Here’s what will happen.” Thorncroft told his man in America the next move. “Our director friend of the CDC will come up with a pretext for postponement of the vaccination program without attracting any suspicion. The delay will give the American manufacturing labs time to make enough for their own use. Our quality control responsibility will be over, but our bank accounts will be full, get my meaning, Moya?”

  “Yes, sir, but what if someone from the hospital in Des Moines speaks out?”

  “How so, Moya? No one, let me assure you, will leave that hospital alive, no one.”

  Moya sat on the edge of the bed, his half-packed suitcase beside him. Thorncroft’s last word sent a chill down his back. Yes, he had turned on his beliefs as a medical professional and was prepared to say publicly what he knew to be wrong, all in the pursuit of financial reward; but had it gone so far that he’d now become an accomplice to murder—mass murder? If he hadn’t fully understood before, then he did now. Everyone inside the hospital was to be sacrificed.

  “Oh shit!” Delaney was greeted by a closed door at the top of the stairs that led to the second floor.

  “Wait, just wait,” Tilford called from below. He was last in the line, behind Childs, which limited his view ahead.

  “Let me get by, Jenny,” he said to her. She obliged by stepping to the wall side so he could glide by along the rail. He couldn’t avoid rubbing up against her huge, round breasts, and water-barrel stomach in the confined space, however. He tried to remain as if nothing unusual took place, but when he looked up, Nurse Jenny Childs had a big smile on her face, a glimmer in her eye.

  Is she fucking kidding me or what? Our lives are in danger from some freaked-out bloodsuckers, and she gets excited ’cause I rubbed up against her tits?

  “What is it?” He ignored Childs’s flirtation and concerned himself with Delaney’s problem.

  “The door ahead, what if it’s locked, we’ll be caught in here in—”

  “No, no it’s okay. This is a fire exit. It leads to the nurses’ station next to maternity and must be kept open at all times. It has a keycard lock, but it’s not activated,” Tilford told her. He kept his eyes focused on the door ahead; Nurse Childs was close behind and might want to continue to rub up against him some more.

  “Better let me take a look first.”

  “Going to play the macho man now?”

  “Err no, but I know the floor plan better than you,” he countered. He then smiled at her; it was harmless by-play, which he welcomed. He needed something other than Childs’s huge tits to alleviate the stress.

  Tilford pushed the door as gently as he could. He didn’t know what to expect, and if any staff were nearby, they would have the same thoughts; he didn’t want to get clonked on the head by an overzealous orderly wielding a bedpan.

  When no one challenged him—or lunged at him—Tilford opened the door fully and immediately felt like the sausage that fell from the grill into the hot coals. No one, not a soul, was to be seen at the nurses’ station, chairs were tipped over, papers scattered about and a silence, full of dread, hung over the floor. A hospital isn’t a center of noise and mayhem, most of the time but there was always some activity and background chatter to be detected.

  “This doesn’t look promising.” Tilford stepped through and held the door open for the others.

  “I assume this floor isn’t normally this quiet?” Delaney hadn’t had the occasion to visit the second floor but knew what hospitals were like.

  Before she received answer, Sanders grabbed her by the arm and pointed to a line of blood smeared across the floor toward the counter.

  “Were any of the patients who received the vaccine shots brought up here, Nurse?” Tilford was apprehensive about pressing on.

  “We ran out of beds in IC, and the stable patients were transferred up here to make room for the more severe sufferers.”

  Delaney and Tilford exchanged anxious looks emphasizing their suspicions; if any of the transferred patients exhibited the same behavior as the blood-drinking ghouls from the first floor, then it would be a smorgasbord with expectant mothers confined to beds, and defenseless newborn infants. And the blood on the floor didn’t come from a painful premature birth. They now realized the entire hospital was probably overrun with infected crazies drinking the blood of others.

  “We have to find a way out of this building if we’re to survive.” Delaney said to all three.

  “But how? We’ve been sealed in?” Childs couldn’t hide the panic she felt.

  “The roof. We have to get to the roof through the building maintenance room. There’s a fire escape—”

  “Which will take us down into the waiting clutches of the National Guard or the cops—if they don’t shoot us first!” Sanders cut Tilford off.

  “And what would you have us do, fly?” Childs asked sharply.

  “Let’s not start any arguments among ourselves.” Tilford could see the tension building. “We have to work together, and we can’t go back down; so we have no choice but to head to the roof, right?”

  He looked at the others, and when there was no dissension, took that as a sign of agreement.

  “Okay then, let’s forge on. Isaac, can that door be locked?” Delaney interjected to get them moving again.

  “Only by security and—”

  “Security. That’s it!” Delaney raised a finger to the air. Tilford noticed her excitement and energy was infectious; because of her they might just make it yet.

  “Where’s security and how do we get there?” The possibility of armed security officers to aid in their escape wasn’t lost on any of them.

  “It’s on the first floor, but their office and storeroom is on this floor,” Tilford told the CDC immunologist.

  “Lead the way.”

  As impressed as he was with Delaney’s leadership qualities they still had to take precautions.

  “It’s that way, through those doors.” Tilford pointed to the double doors with the path of smeared blood beneath.

  “How far? Can we make a run for it?”

  “Not far, but those things move fast. I mean, you saw them pounce on Gerard. I’m not sure we could outrun them.” He didn’t say it, didn’t need too, everyone knew he meant their chances of outrunning the ghouls with Nurse Childs with them were slim.

  They moved through the side entrance behind the counter; Tilford had a quick look for anything that might resemble a weapon, but without luck.

  “Maybe we use tranquilizers or a strong sedative on them?”

  “You want to get that close to administer it, Jenny?” Tilford’s answer ended that idea.

  “There,” Delaney saw a mop and
knocked-over bucket outside the door of the male restroom, “we can use that!”

  “And just who is ‘we’?” Tilford knew he would be the designated jouster. It was better than the array of hole-punchers and staple guns on the counter; he would have some distance with the mop, which was wet, giving it more weight and hopefully impact.

  “Get in behind me, ladies, and when I says so, you run, just fucking run, okay?” Tilford said as, with mop held high in two hands, he approached the door. Not wanting to slip over, the four of them did their best to avoid the blood on the floor.

  “Ready?” Tilford asked Delaney, Sanders and Childs. He waited until he received a compliant nod from each before proceeding. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open one side of the double doors that led into the main corridor of the maternity unit.

  Eight

  Moya received a call not long after he’d spoken with Thorncroft; the puppet master, as he now thought of him.

  “Moya.” He answered as he unpacked his suitcase. He decided to see it through to the end, there was no other choice.

  “Dr. Moya, I have some news for you on the current situation.” An upbeat Calgleef announced.

  “Good, I’m listening.” Moya grabbed another bottle of water, sat on the bed and listened to Calgleef’s summary of what was to take place, or at least what he was to be told.

  “I’ve sent a recommendation to the FDA and to the president demanding the current program be postponed due to a contamination in the vaccine, at least in the dosages found at the Riverside hospital.”

  “Excuse me, if I may.” Moya stood and walked to the sliding glass door and looked out onto the street below. Traffic flowed without incident while people walked or jogged along the side of the road or in the small park next to the hotel. Not one of these people knew, Moya reflected, that decisions which would affect their lives, were being made by a few select people—some of whom were on the other side of the world.

  “Certainly, by all means.”

  “As you know I’m Mr. Thorncroft’s representative here in the US for this program, and I was under the impression that Mr. Thorncroft expected something more temporary, he has a considerable investment in this you know. How is informing your government of a contamination going to assist in this manner?”

  “I understand that there is much at stake for Mr. Thorncroft, as well as his partners and you, but let me reassure you that I have quite an involvement as well. We are all partners in this business deal. What I’ve stated in my report is that some vials of the vaccine appeared to be affected, perhaps because they were improperly sealed and the cabin pressure from the plane may have led to the alteration. I also added that not all of the vaccines were affected, but to be on the safe side it would be best to abandon these vaccines until a locally manufactured version can be produced.” Moya wondered if the director of the CDC was reading this from a transcript, but Calgleef hadn’t finished. “This, as I assured Mr. Thorncroft, would not jeopardize the program, his contract or the initial purchase, as the decision not to use these supplied vaccines was ours, and therefore Thorn Bio-Tech would be fully compensated.”

  Moya looked at the traffic and people below and wondered how many of these people would end up infected, or dead, with the Baltic flu. He couldn’t do anything about it now if he tried, all he could do was think of the money once more. Yes, the money, that’s what it was all about wasn’t it? The corners of his mouth turned upward; yes, I’m a whore for sure, but not a cheap one! He liked Calgleef’s plan and told him so, he especially liked it that the contract wouldn’t be affected and therefore neither would his stipend. But he didn’t tell him that much.

  “The disturbance at the hospital will be explained away as an aggressive reaction from a mixture of the Legionnaires’ disease and the contaminated vaccine, a tragic situation yes, but an accidental one.”

  Moya realized too that Calgleef was made of the same substance as Thorncroft; you had to be to make and keep money these days, he assumed, and he had become no better.

  “How long will this take?”

  “Not long, Dr. Moya, with the situation at the hospital and the cost factor, believe me the government will be distancing itself from any immediate scrutiny. Laying blame on a malfunction in the seals due to cabin pressure on the plane—which can’t be proved either way—is an easy out. I expect an announcement tomorrow and a recall of all vaccines to follow shortly thereafter. In a month or so the first batch will roll out from the US manufacturers. Sound good to you, Dr. Moya?”

  It did, music to his ears as the saying went. He had an instant thought, with that timeline in place his presence wouldn’t be necessary, he could return to London and should anything break out in America in that time, well…

  “It does indeed, Dr. Calgleef. And the press?”

  “They’ll toe the line. They always do.”

  “Good to hear. Well if there’s anything you need from me, I’ll be here at the hotel for a few more days and—”

  “Few more days! Did Thorncroft not inform you?”

  Moya remained silent as he felt a hole open up in the pit of his stomach.

  “You’re to oversee and advise on the production of the vaccines here in the United States, Dr. Moya.”

  He should have known you don’t just walk away that easy—not from Noel Thorncroft.

  But at least I’ll get away from this city. This thought, his only consolation.

  Tilford took his time to pushed open the door; his mop cocked ready at his shoulder. He and the others avoided the smudged blood below on the cream linoleum floor of the maternity ward.

  Hospital doors do not, as a rule, creak when opened, but Tilford wasn’t about to take any chances. He looked back to check on the other three; Delaney, dressed in a white doctor’s jacket like him, and the two nurses in their blue scrubs were right behind. Tilford noted the difference in facial expressions. Delaney had a determined look, which didn’t mean she wasn’t fazed by the abhorrent nature of affairs. It hadn’t affected her looks at all, which Tilford took more notice of the longer he was in her company. Sanders had an eager expression; there was fear in her eyes for sure but not quite panic. Nurse Childs, on the other hand, was close to panic if not already there. Her dark eyeliner ran in streaks down her cheek from her tears; her hands trembled sending a shock wave through her leg-of-pork-sized arms, causing them to quiver. Tilford didn’t pass judgement on her though. Hell, he felt like crawling into a corner somewhere, putting his head between his knees and hoping it would all go away. It wouldn’t of course, and doing so wouldn’t help them get out of here, he couldn’t afford to do it—they couldn’t afford it.

  There was a line of patient rooms on each side of the corridor before them, and approximately fifty yards of open travel before they reached the aisle that would take them to the security office. In another time, there wouldn’t be a thought about the distance, but now it looked as daunting as crossing the Grand Canyon—in a single bound. The doorways to each of the rooms weren’t directly opposite each other in the corridor, but offset.

  “Stick to the wall.” Tilford said, loud enough for them to hear but, hopefully, no one else. This allowed them to peer into the patient rooms opposite as they inched their way along, step by step, one foot after the—

  “Oh my God!” Childs shrieked. The lights in the hospital went out.

  “Jesus!” Sanders also called to the deities.

  “Hang on. Don’t move, the generator should kick in any moment.” Tilford remembered the emergency training drill from last year and the detail about the generator. It would also keep patients hooked up to life-saving devices alive; well, that was until bloodsucking infected ghouls were let loose.

  “They shut off the phones, now they’re cutting power. Bastards, fucking bastards!”

  “Who shut off the phone or cut power… what are you talking about?” Sanders wanted to know if Delaney knew more than she’d let on.

  An electronic hum was heard through the walls as
the generator powered up; within moments the emergency lighting came on in the corridor, bathing their view in an unearthly yellowish glow.

  “How far down is the security office?” Delaney avoided the nurses’ question by asking one of her own. There would be time later; she hoped.

  “Down that hallway. It’s the first on our right.” Sanders answered. With the lights back on the goal of reaching the security office became paramount.

  “Let’s make a run for it, huh?”

  “We don’t know what could be waiting for us… and I don’t fancy running headlong into a group of these things, y’know?” Tilford understood Delaney’s excitement, she was an exciting woman in many ways, but he knew that if they made a run for it Childs would be left behind. No, they had to stay together, safety in numbers and all that. Nurse Childs was a likeable person with a bubbly personality, and he was sure she’d taken more than her far share of taunts over the years. For better or worse, they were all they had. As they neared the first doorway of the patient room, Tilford held his hand up for the others behind him to halt. He edged along the wall, the sinews in his neck bulging as he strained to look inside the darkened room. He motioned for them to follow along. “Just slide against the wall, easy, easy does it.”

  Childs slammed her three-hundred-plus pounds against the wall, resulting in a loud thud. Tilford’s eyes bulged and his stomach muscle’s tightened. Delaney bit down on her bottom lip, while Sanders eyes shot daggers at Childs. In the dim light, Nurse Childs could only offer a silently mouthed, “sorry”.