by Ellis, Tara
A Typhoid Mary. Jason shook his head. “My friend Eddy did have one and he already ruled me out as a carrier, but I understand you can’t just take my word for that. I think he included those results in the other reports I have with —”
“Dr. Chapman!” A man shouted from the entrance.
From Jason’s position on the ground, he could see the new arrival was wearing camo gear and was holding a paper mask to his face. His widened eyes were a stark contrast to his dark skin, and he was breathing heavily.
“Private, you can’t be in here without the proper PPE!” Chapman barked, stepping away from Jason and walking quickly across the tent. “Don’t come any further.”
“You don’t understand.” The private was shaking his head, and to Jason’s growing concern, he saw that the man was crying. “I’ve got a headache. I thought I was just hungry, or tired…I haven’t been sleeping well, you know? But now, I think I’ve got a fever and my head is starting to pound.” As Chapman reached him, the man took a step back and the mask fell away from his face. “I don’t want to die!”
Jason grit his teeth together and stood, instantly shifting roles from patient to doctor. They were going to need him.
A cell.
The FEMA camp was now an infected cell and there was no stopping the process that had already been set in motion. Chapman was right.
It was only a matter of time.
Chapter 10
JESS
Amazon Jungle near Kumalu, Suriname
Northeast interior of South America
“You need to tell me.” Jess was sitting close enough to Akuba so that their knees were touching. They were both situated on a padded chaise lounge on the back patio, with the only light against the moonless night a few flickering Citronella torches spaced along the edge of the cement. Leaving an outdoor light on only attracted hordes of unwelcome bugs and made it harder to see the stars, which was what Jess typically did while laying outside. This night was different, as both of them were oblivious to the dazzling display of the cosmos. Instead, the light dominating their attention was a distant, diffused orange glow leaking out around the partially open garage doors.
“Your father has recovered from the Kra Puru,” Akuba said solemnly.
Jess narrowed her eyes at her friend, resisting the urge to point out how unhappy she was that her father survived a deadly illness. But her dad’s continued odd behavior was a compelling reason for Jess to seek out answers, no matter how bizarre or difficult they were to hear.
He hadn’t left the garage the whole day, and when Akuba offered to take dinner to him, Jess hadn’t objected. In fact, she hadn’t said much of anything to anyone since the earlier encounter with her dad. She’d even bailed on helping Akuba with the housework like she’d promised, and had instead fled into the jungle to try and find some sort of peace of mind. She ended up calling endlessly for Goldie, wanting desperately to find her monkey while at the same time terrified of him. It was a stark reminder of how it echoed pretty much everything happening in her life at the moment and that there really wasn’t any escaping it. So, Jess had decided the best way to proceed was to face it all head-on, and she was determined to get answers. Just like the sleuths in her favorite mysteries, she needed information if she was ever going to figure things out and plot how to properly proceed. Simply going through the motions of daily chores and eating rations while ignoring her dad and the fact that the rest of the world was dying off didn’t work for her.
Jess knew Akuba was only trying to protect her, and while running along the same trail she’d snuck out onto only the week before, she came to understand why. Though fourteen and quickly approaching what her father referred to as ‘womanhood’, she still acted like a child most of the time. Why wouldn’t Akuba treat her like one? Her resolve to take hold of her own fate was a key step in Jess’s revelation this afternoon. She needed to earn Akuba’s confidence by proving she could handle more responsibility, both physical and emotional.
As she sat there silently waiting for Akuba to continue, she had to remind herself of that. The history and beliefs of the Lokono people wasn’t something openly shared and Jess knew how hard it was for Akuba to open up.
“I wish I could tell you that I understand this, but the truth is that I do not.” Akuba twisted on the lounge to glance briefly at the light spilling across the grass behind them. “The Kra Puru isn’t something that is mentioned often. Only in the Ondrofeni Tori, the oldest of stories told by the elders, meant to scare unruly children into behaving.” She turned back to Jess and looked on the verge of crying. “I never believed it was real.”
Undeterred, Jess leaned forward eagerly and spoke in hushed tones. “You called it an ancient illness, and said that it had happened before. When, Akuba? Because you were right about it spreading. Dad said it’s already out in the rest of the world and being called The Kuru. He even used the same word as you did, the day we brought him home. He called it a purge.”
Akuba’s eyes widened and her breath caught before she could look away. “He said that?” she asked, sounding fearful.
Nodding, Jess once again forced herself to remain silent. There wasn’t anything else for her to say.
“Five-thousand years ago, my people were all called the Arawak. We were among the first known to live in the Amazon. Our ancient village is called the Tan Presi Rutu, or Place of Origin. No one has lived there for almost four-hundred years, since the Dutch invaded. Our ancestors fled to protect its location and hide the sacred bergi-olo, the caves where our oldest stories are written.” Akuba turned her face to the stars and smiled. Jess imagined she was thinking of her grandparents and great-grandparents, when the means of their existence was so much simpler.
“The Libi Nati you know is only part of a much larger system, Jess,” she explained. “Granmama would tell me stories of the hot springs inside the bergi-olo, and how they used to make pilgrimages to it with the sick and frail because of its healing powers.”
“Why did they stop?” Jess asked. She’d known the Lokono, and had been a part of Akuba’s village her whole life. She’d never heard of anyone going on that sort of journey.
Akuba smiled sadly at Jess, the light from the torches casting dancing shadows across her face. “My people are not immune to losing parts of our culture, much the same as you have lost yours, and so many other indigenous groups. Over time, the Tan Presi Rutu came to be nothing more than old, rundown ruins to the youngest generation. They are more interested in modern things, not paintings on a cave wall that speaks of terrors meant to scare children who won’t go to bed.”
“And the Libi Nati?” Jess pressed, surprised to hear about the disinterest of the people in Akuba’s tribe. However, thinking back over the ceremonies she had witnessed, Jess realized it was always the elders participating, though she couldn’t blame them. Many of the young adults were actively engaged in trying to prevent the last of their land from being sold out from under them to third-parties by the government. The mining and stripping of the Amazon likely posed a much more demanding issue than a need to hold onto the past.
“The Libi Nati has been the most consistent link to our ancestors,” Akuba continued, smiling again. “Since it also turned into a source of reliable income, we were able to involve more of our families and even use it as a means to preserve our native lands, thanks to your father and his efforts over the years.” She looked away again to stare silently at the wilderness that surrounded them.
“The story?” Jess asked hesitantly when Akuba had been silent for several minutes.
Seeming to come to a decision, Akuba’s back straightened and she glanced briefly at the stars before beginning. “It is thought to have happened around two-thousand years ago, at the same time as the Apoyeque eruption in Nicaragua. As with the MOHO, the springs boiled and created a geyser, after which people began falling ill. Even some of the animals. All except for the people of the Tan Presi Rutu, who tended the pools and prayed to Awa for its gifts.”
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“What happened to them?” Jess pushed, unable to hold herself back. “What happened to the people who woke up?”
“There were huge communities out there back then,” Akuba said, not answering her question straight-away. “Tens of thousands of people. Much more than modern history is aware of, but this is because most of them were wiped out. Unlike today, the Amazon was an effective barrier to the rest of the world and once the last of those infected were gone…”
A howler monkey screeched, an eerie reminder of the primal environment they lived in. In a matter of days, the rest of the world had been effectively shut out by simply removing the technology necessary to reach it. Only this time around, the Kra Puru didn’t stop at the Amazon. It was set loose upon the world and Jess had no idea when it would stop, if it would ever stop, and what that meant for those who survived.
“If the stories are accurate, many more recovered from the Kra Puru in the past, than we’re seeing today. They banded together in the jungle. Eventually, there was a war between them and the survivors from the village and those from neighboring tribes they had taken in. They called them the Soul Takers because they were said to be without love, fear, or bothered by any remorse. They would do whatever was necessary to survive, which in that setting…included cannibalism. It was a practice most societies had already ended by then.”
Jess swallowed around the growing knot in her throat and fought not to react outwardly. It was becoming more obvious why Akuba hadn’t shared the story before, and Jess was beginning to question whether she’d been right about growing up and facing the truth. She desperately wanted to run to her room and put her head under her pillow.
“It took many years, possibly even a whole generation, to hunt down the last of the Kra Puru,” Akuba said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “They were fierce warriors that took to living in the jungle as animals. At least, that is how the legend goes if we are to believe all of it,” she added, trying to make light of the worst of it. “Obviously, things are much different now than they were two-thousand years ago, Jess. There is medicine, and researchers. I’m sure someone will come up with a cure and an explanation for why this disease works the way it does.”
“He got the internet working.” Jess wasn’t sure why that was the first thing she blurted out, and she could tell by Akuba’s reaction that she was surprised, too.
Frowning, the other woman shifted on the lounge and looked back at the garage again. “Doctor Davies is a man of science. I am certain he will be on a quest to figure out what this illness is. Did you see what he was doing?”
Jess felt a small surge of hope. “Yeah, he was in his email account. Said he was communicating with one of his colleagues in California, I think. I got upset because he wasn’t trying to find Grandma or Grandpa, but I guess it would make sense if you’re right.”
Akuba took her hand and gave her a curt, positive nod. “He is still your father, Jess. Much like someone who is ill with Alzheimer’s, or some other disease that effects the brain, he will need our help and patience. It’s encouraging that he has been able to get online. He’s alone here and perhaps this way he can now get some of the help he needs. Maybe you can use the laptop tomorrow to send a message to your grandpa? It may be that the eruption in Yellowstone wasn’t as bad as we think, or that they’ve already found a way to treat the Kra Puru.”
Akuba was right, and Jess finally smiled as she thought about her father contacting the CDC, or one of the other places where she knew he had friends. There had to be some medicine that would help. Her smile faltered slightly when Jess noticed the darkness over Akuba’s shoulder was complete. The light in the garage was off.
“We should all go to bed now.”
Both Jess and Akuba jumped at her father’s deep voice and turned as one toward where he was standing, next to the closest Citronella torch. His beard was the thickest Jess had ever seen it, and with the firelight reflecting off his glasses, she hardly recognized him. How long had he been standing there, listening to them?
“I’ll be going into town tomorrow,” he continued, before either of them had a chance to respond. Stepping onto the patio, he stopped in front of them and Jess saw he was holding his laptop. “The electricity will be gone soon, so you should prepare for that.”
“Dad!” Jess called out, jumping to her feet as he turned away and effectively ended the conversation. “Can I go with you? And, I was wondering if I could use the internet tomorrow.”
Turning back to her, he regarded Jess for a moment before tsking much the same way he used to when assessing a wilting plant in the gardens. “That would be a waste of resources, Jessica. You will stay at the preserve and provide what assistance you can to assure its continued benefits, while I locate others who have recovered.”
Jess and Akuba exchanged a startled look before Jess took another step to prevent her father from walking away. Mustering what little courage she had left, she asked the question she didn’t want to know the answer to. “Why?”
A faint flicker of what might have qualified as annoyance played at the corners of his eyes and mouth. “Clearly, if I have survived, then there will be other individuals who share the same unique genetic qualities as myself. It’s obvious my odds of continued survival increase by locating those who have the same heightened intellectual awareness. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get eight hours of sleep.”
Jess watched her father enter the house as her newfound optimism was crushed. She was afraid to face Akuba, because she knew she’d see the same fear mirrored in her friend’s eyes. Could it be true? Was it just like in the Ondrofeni Tori, and the Soul Takers were seeking each other out? Only this time around, they wouldn’t be reduced to children’s bedtime stories of monsters in the jungle. This time, they’d be armed with laptops, modern-day technology, and a heightened intelligence.
If someone didn’t find a cure, the Soul Takers wouldn’t be limited to ruling the jungle.
Chapter 11
KACEY
Upstate New York
Adirondack Mountains
“Come on, Kace, we’re going to miss the fish.” Kacey’s older brother, Paul, shone the flashlight on the trail in front of her feet for emphasis. Like, somehow exposing her slowness to the sleeping forest creatures would guilt her into moving faster or something.
“The sun hasn’t even started to come up yet,” she retorted as she quickened her pace. Her older brother Paul had made a point of being nice to her the night before by inviting her along, so she supposed she did owe him for saving her from yet another day of endless canning with their mother.
They’d been coming to the family cabin for the whole eleven years Kacey had been alive. The homestead spanned over ten acres in the Adirondack Mountains in upper New York, and backed up against the Dix Mountain Wilderness. It was remote, private, and according to their parents, the perfect place to ride out the end of the world.
Her dad was a big-shot disease specialist doctor who worked for the government. He had a huge office at the CDC in New York City, and Kacey wasn’t even sure what it was that he did there. What she did know, was she’d never seen him scared before. Not until three days earlier, when he came home early from work and told them all to pack for a very long trip.
It wasn’t until they were leaving early the next morning that he told them where they were going, and why.
Kacey stumbled over an exposed root and landed hard on her knees in the middle of the barely discernable trail. As she knelt there in the darkness, catching her breath, she didn’t start crying because of the pain in her knees. She cried because it was Friday, and her soccer team had a game that afternoon against the Crows, their biggest rivals at the middle school in the neighboring county. Only, she wouldn’t be there and if what her dad told them was true, there was a good chance most of her friends were already sick and dying.
“You okay?” Paul was reaching a hand out to help her up, and sounded genuinely concerned.
Sniffing onc
e, Kacey pushed herself up and then took more time than necessary to brush the dirt off her jeans. Paul was nineteen and in college studying rocks. He told her his goal was to be an environmental guru, or something. Kacey idolized him. “I’m fine,” she lied.
“You can still go back,” Paul suggested, clearly not buying into her poor attempt at bravery.
Waving her hands in a shooing motion, Kacey started moving in spite of the burning it caused in the fresh scrapes on her knees. “Are you kidding? And get stuck choosing between stacking wood or filling jars? I think I’ll take my chances with the fish.”
Paul didn’t look convinced but he shrugged and stepped aside so Kacey could walk past him. “Fine, but you go ahead of me so I can shine the light on the trail for you. I don’t know why you didn’t bring your own flashlight, Kace.”
“Because I was still half asleep when you dragged me out of bed,” she said, not at all joking or exaggerating. “You’re lucky my shoes match and that I remembered my fishing pole.” She held the pole in question out in front of her for a moment to make sure she hadn’t broken it when she fell. It had a lot of sentimental value, since grandpa had given it to her for Christmas two years earlier.
He and Grandma were supposed to have met them at the cabin the day before, but never showed up. Their cell phones had been useless since the week before, but the landline in the cabin still worked. However, there was no answer at their grandparent’s house and Kacey could tell her dad was really worried about his parents, regardless of how many times he said they would be okay.
He’d spent the past two days chopping wood. The mountain they were on was rugged and heavily wooded. Just the trees that had fallen in the last storm would be enough to keep her dad busy for weeks. Kacey prayed they wouldn’t be stuck up there for that long. Not without knowing what was happening to everyone. Not without being able to talk to her friends, or even their family.