by Ellis, Tara
“What if the people running are already infected?” Jason pushed, ignoring the question since it didn’t really apply to him. He was neither.
Again, the captain shrugged, and Jason became alarmed when he pulled his respirator off.
“Are you going to stop them?” Chapman asked, glaring at Jason with red-rimmed eyes. “Are you willing to shoot those people in the back as they flee certain death?”
Jason stepped around the cot he’d been bent over and grabbed the mask from his hand. “Dr. Chapman…Mark, put this on.”
Chapman pushed Jason’s hand away and instead snatched a bag of fluids and an IV start kit. “I don’t need it,” he said gruffly. Moving to the next cot, he smiled down at the woman in fatigues. “Don’t worry, Ensign,” he said gently. “We’ll get you feeling better and hold this off until the CDC gets some better meds here for us to use.”
Jason watched silently as the other man expertly got the IV inserted and the fluids flowing. There was an overwhelming number of tasks to do, but he already knew from the previous week’s experience that they were only going through the motions. Nothing would help. They were simply prolonging the inevitable. Jason had come to the conclusion during the night that his friend Eddy had the right idea. It would be more humane to just start some morphine drips.
As soon as Chapman was done, Jason grabbed him by the arm and hauled him into an empty corner. “When did it start?” he demanded.
“Two hours ago.” The doctor rolled his shoulders and grimaced. “They aren’t exaggerating about the headache.”
“You should—”
“There isn’t anything I should do!” Chapman spat. “You know that better than anyone.” He stared over Jason’s shoulder, toward the opening of the tent, and a ray of fading sunlight fell across his flushed face. “Lysis…”
Jason frowned, leaning in closer to hear what the doctor was saying. “What?”
Chapman shifted his focus onto Jason, and the acceptance in his eyes was chilling. “The final phase in the pathogens life-cycle, when the replicated proteins are set free.” He looked again to the woods outside. “Like one giant organism, and they’re moving on to start the process again somewhere else.”
Jason hadn’t let go of his arm, and he gave the other man a hard shake. When Chapman reacted by raising his eyebrows questioningly at him, Jason took his other arm and held him firmly in place. “You told the Ensign the CDC was sending meds that would help. Did you learn something from the last update you just got? Or was that a lie?”
“It was a lie,” the doctor said unapologetically. “A little hope is the only thing I can offer her now.”
Jason dropped his arms and took a step back, huffing at the same time. “Well, did they tell you anything useful? I hope you let them know about what’s happening here, because it’s obvious now that it’s more than simply airborne. This thing can travel much more than the typical six feet, and stay in the air for a hell of a long time. I wouldn’t be surprised if it can also pass right through most of the protective gear, given how small it is.”
“The perfect pathogen,” Chapman muttered. He gave his head a firm shake and then ran his hands over his face hard enough to leave some marks when he looked back up at Jason. “No medication yet, but they did have some promising news: People are waking up.”
“Waking up?” Jason echoed. “I don’t understand.”
Chapman chortled, and it wasn’t a reassuring sound. “Recovering, Jason. There’s been some confirmed cases of full recovery.”
“Then why don’t you sound hopeful?” Jason thought about the people he’d left behind in the hospital. Abandoned. “None of the patients at our hospital had recovered by the time I left. Hundreds had died and virtually everyone else was in some various stage of the disease.”
“Because it’s still a numbers game!” Chapman’s voice was hoarse and his eyes glassy and feverish. “You said there were around eight-hundred at Harborview, in Seattle? Odds are you were right to leave, then. There may have been one or two who could have recovered, if the conditions had been right. But based on the information I got, the recovery is spontaneous after two to three days in a coma. If they were already fragile or injured, or dehydrated, they wouldn’t last that long. It’s impossible to say at this point, but it’s got to be less than one in a thousand.”
Jason considered the numbers and attempted to do some rough math in his head. He couldn’t handle the 7.8 billion world population, but the city of Seattle was a reasonable example. He knew the last census was around three million. If one in a thousand were to recover from The Kuru, that would be about three-thousand survivors. If he figured the same stats for people being immune…he swallowed hard and narrowed his eyes at Chapman. “A numbers game,” he whispered, understanding all too well what he was implying. “Seattle’s gone from a city of three million people to six thousand. That’s about a 99.8 percent deathrate, and with the other catastrophes already killing so many and wiping out our infrastructure—”
“It won’t be enough,” Chapman finished for him. “However, the CDC seems to think it is, and is going to extreme measures to do what they can to figure it out. You’re an enigma,” he said, pointing at Jason. “The helo is arriving early. Its relief mission has been axed and now you are the priority. Be ready to evac in less than an hour.”
Jason felt an odd mix of guilt, horror, and relief as he watched Dr. Mark Chapman walk away. Once again, he was going to leave a nightmarish scene behind, and move forward in the anticipation of finding a way to help in a bigger way. Except Jason wasn’t sure if he was really being noble, or merely a coward.
“Doctor Hunter?”
Jason closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself, before acknowledging Sergeant Gentry. She was seated nearby on the same chair he’d occupied after first arriving, only she lacked the same confidence he’d portrayed. Instead, she was hunched over and looking very frightened.
“I told you to call me Jason,” he admonished gently before kneeling down beside her. Resting a hand on the knee nearest him, he fought the urge to hug her. It would have been a mistake. “Are you ready to take the bed I offered you an hour ago?”
Grunting, she shook her head. Body tensing, Gentry struggled into an upright position, her nostrils flaring as bursts of air betrayed how much effort the motion took. “I’m staying off my back for as long as possible,” she said through a clenched jaw. After a moment, her bottom lip trembled and she didn’t resist when Jason shifted so she could lean against his shoulder. “I just wanted to say goodbye to them,” she whispered.
Her daughter and fiancé. Like so many others, she was separated from her loved ones. Where before she was able to hold onto the possibility of seeing them again, even that had been ripped away from her.
“I never asked if you have family,” she said close to his ear.
“Yes,” Jason answered. “A daughter, though I’ve never met her. She’s the reason I have to go south.”
Using Jason for leverage, Gentry pushed away and sat back in the chair. “It’s convenient then, that the CDC gig they’re taking you to is in the right direction?”
“We’ll see,” he said without a lot of optimism. “I want to help, but I’m beginning to think there really isn’t anything special about me. I’m sure they’ll be more interested in dissecting someone who’s woken up. They might actually have something useful, like antibodies. Did you hear what Chapman was saying about that?” he asked, standing. “There’s been some people recovering from The Kuru.”
Gentry looked up at him and tried to smile. “Yeah. I don’t like the odds, but it’s better than I thought it was ten minutes ago.”
“Right, so how about we pad those odds a bit by getting you into a bed,” Jason urged, offering her a hand. “I’ll get you the finest fluids on the menu, along with a nice cocktail of antibiotics and a steroid for dessert.”
Managing a small chuckle, Gentry took his hand and was about to allow him to haul her to her feet,
when a large man came running into the tent. “Doctor Hunter!” he yelled, looking around the open space. When he spotted Jason, he took a few steps closer and pointed back outside. It was then that Jason heard the tell-tale sound of distant rotors beating against the air. “Helo’s gonna touch down in about ten, sir! I’m to take you out to meet it.”
“Give me about fifteen, and I’ll be with you,” Jason replied, getting a firmer grip on Gentry’s hand.
“Now, sir!” the soldier insisted. “Considering our, um…circumstances, they’ve been ordered not to stick around. They won’t wait, so you have to come with me immediately.”
“Go,” Gentry said, releasing his hand. “You have to go, Jason.”
Marty ran in behind the soldier who was still impatiently holding his arm out, and bounded toward Jason. Barking once, he nudged a nose at Gentry’s free hand and then licked it. Much like Jason was afraid a hug would, the simple gesture broke Gentry’s resolve, and she began to cry.
“No!” Gentry snapped, when Jason began to move toward her. “No. You have to leave.” Resting a hand on Marty’s head, she met Jason’s gaze with a rare courage. “Go, and don’t you dare look back.”
There wasn’t anything else to be said, so Jason only nodded and backed away, gesturing for Marty to follow. As he turned to leave, Chapman stepped forward.
“Take care of her,” Jason said, instead of goodbye, and followed the other soldier outside.
The helicopter was already approaching, so after making a quick detour to grab his bag, they jogged the rest of way. It was just touching down when they arrived at the open field outside the camp.
Staying hunched over, Jason scrambled toward the helo while keeping a hand on Marty’s collar to prevent the dog from bolting. Distracted, he didn’t immediately recognize the man who jumped down to the ground and pulled off his mask to meet him.
Stooping to pick Marty up as they reached the landing skids, Jason nearly dropped him when he stood and looked into the face of his friend. A man he thought was dead.
“Hello, Jason,” Doctor Eddy Chase said casually, without any emotion. “It looks like we’re going on a trip together.”
Chapter 15
JESS
Amazon Jungle near Kumalu, Suriname
Northeast interior of South America
Jess had never considered the old, drafty barn to be particularly spooky. But as she stood there hunched over her father’s laptop, she found that every little noise made her jump and she was certain more than once that she wasn’t alone.
“Get a grip, Jess,” she muttered aloud while glancing nervously over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time. It didn’t help that it was starting to get dark out, and the weak lighting didn’t do much to hold it at bay.
Her dad left before lunch, taking Kavish and Mr. Van with him. Although the other two men had managed to come back with over fifty gallons of gas the day before, he insisted it wasn’t enough. He demanded they get more, along with “other” provisions while helping him look for survivors.
It meant all of the work at the preserve fell onto her and Akuba again, and resulted in another back-breaking day of endless chores in the sweltering heat. Though already sore from the day before, Jess succeeded in tending to all of the gardening, yardwork, animals, and finished doing the inventory of their food. Akuba helped with the animals in the morning, and then finished washing all of the linen before starting in on a massive canning operation. Anything that could be preserved was at risk of making its way into a jar.
When the men still weren’t back after dinner, Jess got up the nerve to go in search of her father’s laptop. She doubted he would have taken it with him. It turned out to be a short quest, since it was sitting out on the dresser in his bedroom. She’d been feeling optimistic until she got it plugged in and hooked up to what she thought was the satellite uplink. That was when she discovered her dad had changed the password. He wouldn’t have even had one to begin with, if the system didn’t demand it. He’d kept it simple and made it 1111. Why would he lock her out?
Jess had been trying different assortments of dates and words for nearly half an hour, and was getting more frustrated by the minute. Why? What reason would he have to keep her or anyone else from accessing the computer?
Huffing, Jess stepped back from the table and blinked rapidly when she looked away, the bright square of the screen burned into her field of vision. “I just want to message Grandpa,” she said to the empty building, while doing her best not to cry.
Over an uncomfortable breakfast, her dad had given her and Akuba an academic report on the state of the rest of the world. More eruptions, earthquakes, and The Kuru surpassing everything. He made it sound like whole cities around the world were being wiped out by the disease. Jess wasn’t upset about not being able to read more news reports, she just wanted to get into her email.
Feeling even more isolated than before she found the computer, she yanked the cords from it angrily and slammed the lid shut. That was when she noticed the radio. It was a ham radio, and she’d played with it from time to time over the years, when her dad was out in the field, sometimes up to a week. And there were occasions, especially before getting the new phone and Wi-Fi system installed, when the radio was their only form of communication.
Smiling, Jess eagerly left the laptop and lunged for the other device. It was an older model and probably four-times bigger than a modern radio, but Jess had always liked the big dials and bright display. There were a couple of different switches she had to turn on, and it took her a few minutes of trial and error before she got it all right. It had been at least a year since she’d used it last.
The external square speaker hummed to life, and Jess pulled the radio stand toward her as she sat down in the only chair. There was a list of local frequencies taped to the side of the main radio, and she scanned it, not sure of what she was looking for. Her finger slid over the resort, the hospital, a couple of other local scientists, and names she didn’t recognize. Near the bottom was Korps Politie Suriname; the local rural police.
Though Jess had no intention of necessarily speaking to anyone, she dialed in the radio in hopes of hearing some useful information. She didn’t know if they could trust her dad to tell them everything about what was happening anymore, and Mr. Van didn’t seem to have any problems with following him. He’d been distant and hardly talked to anyone since burying his wife and Ash. Kavish hadn’t stepped inside the house once in the past two days, and Akuba thought her cousin was terrified. They were from the same tribe and knew the same stories, but he tended to be more spiritual than Akuba.
“De brand in het ziekenhuis is bijna uit.”
Jess frowned as she concentrated on the translation. They were speaking in Dutch, the official language of Suriname. She hadn’t really expected to hear anyone, and was caught off-guard. “A fire at the hospital?” she said, scratching at her forehead.
“Overlevenden?”
Jess grabbed a nearby notepad and pencil, and scratched out one word: survivors?
“Geen overlevenden.”
Jess dropped the pencil after writing “no” in front of the first word. Before she had a chance to think too much about it, the first voice began yelling, repeating it twice.
“Het station wordt aangevallen! Het station wordt aangevallen!”
The station was under attack. “Attack?” Jess said as she stood up. She wanted to press the button on the microphone and ask the officers what was going on. Who was attacking them? Her palms got sweaty, and she wiped them off on her dirty jeans. It was suddenly several degrees hotter in the barn, though she knew it was rapidly cooling off outside as the sun continued to set.
“Toestand!” the other officer replied, asking for a status. “Toestand!”
The radio crackled, but before Jess could hear the reply, she was plunged into darkness as the power cut out. In the following silence, she stood frozen, afraid at first to move.
A cow mooed from out in
the field, and a parrot screeched as it flew by outside. Jess blinked, reminding herself that the world didn’t stop just because the power did. Forcing herself to move, she headed for the double doors she’d left ajar, thankful for the last light of the day that managed to find its way inside.
As she stepped out into the twilight, she heard a door slam at the main house and turned to see Akuba jogging across the lawn. “Jess!” she called out as she neared. “It’s happened. The power is out.”
“I know,” she said, biting back a smart remark about stating the obvious. “I couldn’t get the laptop to work, but right before losing power, I heard the police talking on the radio.”
When Akuba tilted her head questioningly at her, Jess hugged herself, wishing she hadn’t even turned the stupid thing on. “It sounded like the hospital is on fire, and…and, the police station was under attack.”
“Attack?” Akuba repeated, while scanning the tree line.
“Yeah. You think some of the people still alive are freaking out?” Jess guessed, wanting very badly to go back to the house. “Because that’s what people do, right? When it’s the end of the world and they think they’re about to die. Freak out?”
Several gunshots from far away echoed through the jungle, making both of them jump and underscoring Jess’s observation. She looked at Akuba, wide-eyed, and saw that she was pointing at something.
“There,” Akuba said, her voice shaky. “Smoke. It’s many miles away, so it could be from the hospital. Let’s get inside,” she added hastily, before Jess could comment on the black smudge barely visible in the darkening sky. “We need to light some candles.”
“Shouldn’t we start the generator?” Jess asked, though she was already following Akuba. “I thought that’s what it was for.”
“There’s no need,” Akuba explained as they made their way across the grass, already becoming damp with dew. “We’ve had our dinner, and it’s cooled off enough that we can open the windows. We’ll be going to bed soon, so candles will be sufficient. We need to conserve the gas.”