Surviving Rage | Book 1

by Arellano, J. D.

  “.... -anciso, Oklahoma City, Indianapolis, and Boston. Citizens are advised to proceed to the protective zones immediately. The government will not be working to secure other cities until a much later date. All entrants will be subject to a four day quarantine in the outer tent city, during which time they will be provided protection, food, water, and temporary shelter. After required quarantine, entrants will be allowed into the city and provided with more permanent accommodations. . . . . . This is the Emergency Broadcast System with an urgent message for citizens of the United States. Protective zones have been established in San Francisco, Oklahoma City, Indianapolis, and Boston. Citizens are advised…”

  Daniel listened to the message three times, making sure he understood all the nuances contained in it. Having served in the military for twenty-plus years and worked for the government for an additional five, he understood how to read between the lines of the government’s public statements.

  ‘Not working to secure other cities until a much later date’ meant the government had written off nearly every major city in the U.S. as a loss. Going home might never be an option.

  The quarantine would be exactly that, but whether or not within the quarantine area were kept separate was unclear. One could enter the quarantine uninfected, only to be surrounded by the infected.

  ‘Food, water, and temporary shelter’ could be little more than rice, chemically treated water, and a thin mat on the ground under a tent. It was unclear whether or not ‘protection’ included protection from the others who were under quarantine. They could be locked up with criminals, stuck there for four days while the government waited to be sure they were safe to allow into the city.

  He wasn’t sure those options were better than remaining where they were, if - and it was a big if - they could effectively repel the Sheriff and his men.

  With that said, running at this point wasn’t an option, either. Douglas had informed him that the Sheriff’s men had established a security checkpoint where the highway started down the hill, making it impossible to leave without a massive armed force, capable of fighting their way through, something his family was not.

  Still, he decided to share the information with Serafina when she got up, as well as with Douglas and Janice when he went to see them. It would also be good to listen to the radio station regularly in case there were updates. He’d make that part of their routine during each meal. Otherwise, they’d keep the device off to conserve the batteries. He had one more set for the radio, and didn’t want to risk a trip into town just to replenish their battery supply.

  Walking back to the house, he was greeted by Serafina, who stood on the porch, stretching as she yawned. Her long white t-shirt and thin cotton shorts clung to her body, outlining her curves. Knowing the cabin was full of kids, he had no choice but to settle for a hug and a kiss.

  “Morning baby,” she said, holding him tight against her.

  “Morning sweetie.”

  She kissed him lightly on the lips, then pulled away, turning to head into the cabin. “I made coffee.”

  “I love you more and more all the time.” Daniel tucked the radio under his arm, leaned the staff against the outside of the structure, then followed her inside.

  They sat at the table, sipping their coffee, enjoying the rare quiet time together while the kids were still asleep. Daniel told her about the radio message, then provided his insights into what was unsaid in the message.

  Putting his cup aside, he leaned forward, looking into his wife’s eyes. “What do you think?”

  Serafina slowly stirred her coffee while she thought about what he’d said. After a few minutes, she shook her head. “I’m not sure there’s a need to leave, if we can deal with the Sheriff’s men.”

  “Kind of what I was thinking.”

  “I think we can be happy here, and in time we can add to our security, making it even stronger.”

  “True, but food will run out eventually, no matter what we do.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of planting a garden to help with that. It won’t be much, but it could extend our stores.”

  “We could fish, too.”

  “True. I’d prefer to remain a vegetarian, but in this situation, we may have to take what we can get.”

  “Same here.” Daniel finished his cup, then rose to get a refill. “So what’s your answer?”

  Serafina turned and looked towards the living room, where Paul was snoozing on the couch. Beyond the living room were the bedrooms, where the girls slept. “Don’t see us having much of a choice. We stay here and fight, then wait to see if things improve before we leave the mountain.”

  “Okay.” Sitting back down, Daniel reached across the table and took Serafina’s hand. “Since that’s the plan, let’s work up additional defensive and offensive measures.”

  Daniel told her his thoughts on weapon choices and positioning, most of which she agreed to readily. While she didn’t like being relegated to close quarters fighting, she couldn’t argue about her shoulder. Her few attempts at using the rifle had sent waves of pain through her entire right side, leaving her barely able to keep from dropping the weapon.

  “How long do you think we have before they come for us?”

  “A day, maybe two.”

  “What else can we do to fortify our defenses?”

  “I’ve got some ideas. I want to set up shooter’s nests in the front and back of the property, and add a lining of mud between plywood and the existing structure to absorb the impact of bullets.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Give me time to think some more and I’ll see what else I can come up with.”

  Just then, Brenna and Ashley walked into the kitchen, followed closely by Isabella. “Dad? Auntie?” Ashley began, her eyes wide with fear.

  Sitting forward, Daniel looked at her across the room. “What is it?”

  “Isabella…” Ashley slid aside, giving them a better view of the young girl.

  What they saw caused them both to stand suddenly, their chairs sliding noisily on the wooden floor of the kitchen. The two of them stared at the girl openly, not wanting to believe what they were seeing.

  Long, raised welts rand down her forearms, scars from an attack. An attack that carried the characteristics of one carried out by the infected.

  The girl looked down, afraid to make eye contact with the two adults.

  “What’s going on?” Paul was shuffling his way over to the kitchen from the living room, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  Daniel ignored the question, staying focused on the young girl. “Isabella, what happened to your arm?”

  “My dad…” The girl broke into tears, sobbing as she slid slowly down to her knees.

  Knowing it was likely too late to avoid being infected anyway, Daniel motioned for the others to move away from her as he approached, kneeling down in front of her.

  “It’s okay. Just tell me what happened.”

  The girl’s voice cracked as she spoke, struggling to make sentences between her sobs. “He...he….he attacked my mom. He...killed her.”

  Daniel reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I’m so sorry, Izzie.”

  The girl continued to cry, her body shaking as spasms rocked her small frame. Daniel pulled her closer, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she cried. When the tears slowed, he gently asked, “Did he attack you, too?”

  “Yes. He grabbed my arm so tight, I thought he would pull it off. He wanted to kill me, too. I’m sure of it.”

  “How did you get away?”

  “Some man tackled him. While they were fighting, I ran away.”

  “Did the police come?”

  “Yes! There was a man there in uniform, yelling at my dad to stop, but when the other man started losing the fight, the officer ran away. I thought he was chasing me in his car, but he just kept going.”

  “The police officer ran away?”

  “Yes! I wanted him to help my mommy, but he j
ust ran away like a - a chicken!”

  Behind him, Serafina muttered, “What the fuck?”

  Daniel continued holding the girl against him as he asked, “How long ago was this?”

  “Five days ago.”

  Looking up at Serafina, Daniel said, “If she was infected, she’d be showing it by now.”

  His wife’s eyes widened as she realized what that meant. “Oh my God…”

  Daniel nodded, looking back at the girl.

  “She’s immune.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN

  Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center, Virginia

  Exasperated, Doctor Chang looked at the dry erase board, where he’d written the word ‘Unvaccinated’ in big letters and underlined it. With the exception of short breaks for food, they’d been working for the last thirteen hours, trying to figure out the intent of Doctor Roberts's note. Unfortunately, even with all of their efforts, they were no closer to finding the cause of the virus, which was key to developing a cure. Leaning against the table, he decided to restart the problem. “What are we missing? The original group of infected weren’t vaccinated against common illnesses. That’s significant, but how does it help us?”

  “Did the drug Roberts developed cause some type of outbreak related to one of the illnesses?” Doctor Bowman looked skeptical of her question even as the words left her mouth.

  “No. No traces of any virus that people are routinely vaccinated against. No Polio, no chickenpox, no Hep A or B, no Measles, nothing common. I’ve checked the blood work three times.” Doctor Reed looked at the floor as he responded to her question.

  He’d been a different person since returning from the team’s mission to Los Angeles. Where he was previously upbeat and positive, he now seemed subdued, determined to find a cure to the virus while simultaneously skeptical that it would make a difference.

  ‘What if it’s already too late?’ He’d asked Lisa, holding her in his arms as they lay in his bed the previous night.

  ‘Then we establish hope for the future.’ She replied, tears forming in her eyes as she took in the sorrow she saw in his. He wouldn’t talk about what happened during the mission, only saying that he should have done more, that if he’d been able to fight and shoot better, maybe the other men would still be alive. During the two nights they’d spent together since his return, he’d woken multiple times during each, crying out in despair before sitting up, covered in sweat, and breathing heavily. Whatever had happened was clearly haunting him.

  While he still managed small smiles for her, the only time she saw any true indication of happiness was when he was spending time with the dog he’d brought back, which he’d decided to name Steight, after SEAL Team Eight. It was a ridiculous name for a dog, but his conviction towards the name left little room for discussion. He spent time with the dog morning, noon, and night, running with it on the base in the mornings, and walking with it in the grass area around their building during the other times.

  He still stuck to his early morning workout routine, but he was eating very little and losing weight because of it. Lisa was worried about him, but having known him for less than two weeks, she didn’t have many ideas on how to ease his pain and help him heal. She did what she could, giving him space when she sensed he needed it, being close when she felt it was appropriate.

  The growing problem was his irritability, which seemed to be worsening rapidly, likely due to the lack of quality sleep, along with their near-complete lack of progress. The short lengths of sleep he got were a result of physical exhaustion, and his recurring nightmares were preventing him from getting the deep REM sleep his mind needed to recharge.

  Sensing Jonathan’s irritability growing, Andrew tried to keep the team positive, moving forward with his analysis. “Can we determine if they ever caught the illnesses they should have been vaccinated against? Maybe if they all had contracted, say, Measles, then we could look at what’s left behind in the body after the individual has recovered from the illness.”

  Lisa leaned forward, excited at the thought of having a new possibility to investigate. “That sounds like it’s worth looking into.” She looked over at Jonathan, waiting for his response.

  The tall man shrugged, standing up slowly. “Why not?”

  “Okay, let’s keep it simple at first. Look through the patient files, and see if there’s any record of them contracting one of these diseases.” Moving to the adjacent dry erase board, he wiped it clean before drawing a series of headings:

  TDAP MMR HEP A HEP B HPV MENG VAR

  The doctors understood that TDAP covered diphtheria, tetanus, and pertussis. Measles, mumps, and rubella were lumped together under the MMR vaccine. Hepatitis A, hepatitis B came next, followed by meningococcal disease (e.g., meningitis), human papillomavirus (HPV), and varicella (commonly referred to as chickenpox).

  Andrew looked at them, still holding the marker in his hand. “If the patient had one of these in the past, just put a tally mark under the heading. We’ll wait until we’ve been through the records to see if there’s a correlation. If there is, we’ll dig deeper. Sounds good.”

  “Sounds good, Andrew.” Lisa replied with confidence, hoping it would lift Jonathan’s spirits as well. Looking over at him, she saw no change in his demeanor. He simply turned and walked over to the files, which they’d printed from the images he’d brought back, and grabbed a stack of five, carrying them back to his desk. Sitting down at the desk, he rubbed his forehead with his hand, blinking slowly. Shaking his head, he stood back up and went to the corner of the room, where he poured himself a cup of coffee. Returning to his desk, he saw Lisa watching him out of the corner of his eye and looked up, meeting her gaze and offering a reserved smile.

  Lisa smiled back before walking to the center table and grabbing her own stack of files. She set the files on her desk before deciding coffee was a good idea and getting a cup for herself.

  The team worked in relative silence for the next two hours, making tally marks under the headings on the white board, but when Lisa looked at the board, she felt dismay and frustration.

  TDAP MMR HEP A HEP B HPV MENG VAR

  II I I II III I

  “Crap.” She muttered, suddenly very skeptical over this approach. It wasn’t showing them anything. Were they wasting their time? Maybe she should tell Andrew they should try something different.

  Looking over at the Asian doctor , she saw him smiling at her. He nodded towards Jonathan. Turning her head, Lisa saw that he was fast asleep on his desk, his head resting on the file he’d been reviewing. Snores came from his mouth, disturbing the paper slightly with each exhalation.

  ‘Good,’ she thought, happy to see him finally getting what looked to be some quality sleep. Standing from her chair, she walked over to where Andrew sat. “ Should we try to get him to move to the couch? He’d be more comfortable.”

  “Yeah, let’s do that. Otherwise, he’ll get all cramped up. But let’s get some help.” He took out his phone and pressed the number one.

  “Are you sure he won’t wake up?”

  The man chuckled. “Yes. With that dose, he’ll be out for a while.”

  “Dose?”

  “Yes, I slipped an Ambien in his coffee, which, by the way, was decaf.”

  Lisa smiled. “You sneaky son of a gun.”

  Andrew grinned slyly. “Hey, he needs sleep. I’m a doctor. I help people.”

  Lisa laughed quietly, patting him on the back. “Good call, boss.”

  Sergeant Mason, Corporals Johnson and Richards came in, looking around before seeing Doctor Reed asleep at his desk. Walking over to Andrew, Sergeant Mason asked, “What can I do for you, Andrew?”

  Andrew pointed at Reed. “We’re going to move that man,” he pointed to the couch, “over there. Then I’ll need a blanket. Let’s try to be quiet, too.”

  “You sure we won’t wake him up?”

  Andrew’s sly grin returned. “I’m sure.”

  “Resident Reed, what is your diagnosis?
” The heavyset, older white man in the white coat looked at him expectantly. In the room behind them, a woman laid in the bed, hooked up to a variety of tubes that provided her liquids and medications, and a number of wires that monitored her vital signs.

  “She’s fatigued. She said she’s felt that way more and more over the last month, and that it seems to happen pretty frequently. I see no signs of trauma or injury, no indications of blood loss. Best bet is Tuberculosis.”

  It was his second week in residency, and so far he’d gotten very few things right. This occasion was no different. Shaking his head, the older man looked him in the eye. “Jonathan, you’re reaching too far. Not everything is caused externally. Sometimes our bodies are simply flawed.”

  “Flawed, sir?”

  “I told you, call me Hank. And yes, flawed. The young woman in there has Iron Deficiency Anemia. It’s actually pretty common. We’ll get her on medication and she’ll be fine.”

  Turning away, frustrated, Jonathan muttered, “Dammit.”

  Hank reached upward to pat him on the shoulder. “It’s alright, big guy. Just remember: sometimes it’s not that we HAVE something. It’s that we DON’T have something.”

  On the couch, Jonathan turned over, muttering to himself. Nearby, Sergeant Mason was making a fresh batch of coffee - regular, this time. He looked over at the tall doctor, wondering what the man was dreaming about.

  “...not that we have something ... we don’t have something…”

  Jonathan’s footsteps echoed in the hallway as he walked towards the patient’s room. Passing the nurse’s station, he smiled and greeted the women, glad he had two of the best ones on shift with him that night.