Fire From The Sky | Book 11 | Ashes

by Reed, N. C.

  “Moving away,” Gordy whispered, his voice steady despite the rumbling in his stomach. “I see no other intruders nearby.”

  “Nor do I,” Stacey affirmed. He notified the rest of their situation, allowing the other vehicles to know that they were, for the moment, clear. Next, he contacted Operations to inform them that they eight bodies that would need to be moved once it was light, getting an affirmative response. Releasing the microphone, Stacey sat back, exhaling an explosive breath as he considered what had just occurred, and wondering what he could have done differently.

  But he already knew the answer to that question; nothing. There were no other options available to them. No matter how dirty it made him feel.

  -

  “Where is Clayton?”

  Startled, Jose looked up to see Jaylyn Thatcher standing over him, her face pensive and drawn. Her eyes showed real fear, something he’d not experienced from the good Doctor before.

  “He’s at home resting, ma’am,” Jose replied, falling back on years of military courtesy to avoid sounding worried.

  “Wake him,” Jaylyn ordered tersely. “I need him down here as soon as he can make it. And call the people on the line. Tell them they are under no circumstances to make any physical contact whatsoever with any refugee. None. To consider that a standing order until further notice. They are to take every possible precaution and use any means necessary to prevent anyone, regardless of who it is, from crossing that line. Don’t touch the bodies, either.” Without waiting for an acknowledgement, she turned on her heels and returned to the clinic.

  “Uh, did you guys get all that?” Jose asked Leanne Tillman and Janice Hardy, sitting in Operations and watching in stunned silence.

  “Yes,” both nodded slowly.

  “One of you call Clay, apologize for waking him, and tell him Thatcher needs him in the clinic right away. Can you remember her orders for the others?”

  “I can,” Janice nodded again, her face still showing her stunned surprise.

  “Then go ahead and send that message out to them,” Jose told her. “Maybe we’ll know soon what this is all about.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  -

  By the time Clay got to the clinic, he was grumpy and very unhappy. He had gotten no more than two hours of sleep at a time for the last several days and it showed. He had been asleep for less than three hours when his phone rang, his niece telling him about Doctor Thatcher’s ‘orders’. He had gotten dressed and almost stomped to the hospital, intent on giving Thatcher a piece of his mind.

  That feeling didn’t survive a full three seconds once he got a look at her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, tempering his anger.

  “Gleason brought me three blood samples,” she said without preamble.

  “Yeah.” Clay knew that.

  “Two were from people who were clearly sick, with a list of every symptom they could recognize and as much medical history as they could retrieve from them. The third was from a blind draw, with no information whatsoever provided.”

  “You need that information?” Clay asked. “Is that it? We can call-,”

  “No, I don’t need it,” she cut him off gently, her voice very subdued. “I don’t have the equipment I need to do an exact breakdown of the blood I was sent, but I do have a microscope. I’ve been working all this time trying to identify what the infection is, hoping we could find an old treatment that would help at least some of the sick, and maybe protect us as well.”

  “No luck?” Clay asked, starting to wonder why she had called him down here. Almost nothing she had said so far made any sense to him.

  “Wrong kind of luck,” she replied bitterly. “I identified it, alright. I examined all three samples. All of them contain the Yersinia pestis bacterium. They’re all-,”

  “Wait,” Clay held up a hand, to stop her. He felt a headache forming. “Pestis. I’ve heard that word before. When I was deployed.” He wracked his memory, fishing for the definition of the phrase.

  “Plague,” Jaylyn helped him out. “They all three have plague. In this case, pneumonic plague.”

  “Plague?” Clay was stunned. “Like, black death, plague? That plague?”

  “That plague,” Jaylyn nodded. “One of three strains, and the only one that is spread through the air, and from person-to-person. Of course,” her voice was bitter.

  “Pneumonic,” Clay repeated. “So…it’s pulmonary.”

  “Exactly,” Jaylyn confirmed. “Which is how it has spread so fast. Pneumonic plague infects the lungs, settles in them, and then with every cough, sneeze or drop of blood, spreads it like, well, the plague,” she shrugged helplessly.

  “I don’t get it,” Clay was still confused. “How do we end up with plague here of all places?”

  “A year of shitty hygiene, for starters,” Jaylyn told him. “A year of bad hygiene and lack of pest control. Plague can be contracted from fleas found on rats, squirrels, chipmunks, bats and other animals in those genus groups. And guess what hungry people eat when they don’t have anything else?”

  “All of the above,” Clay groaned, leaning against the bench he was standing beside. “You’re sure, I guess,” he stated rather than asked.

  “I discovered this several hours ago,” she nodded. “I’ve spent every minute since then trying to disprove it. Didn’t work. There is no question that it’s plague. Bubonic plague is bad enough, but it at least isn’t transmitted through aerosol. Pneumatic plague most definitely is. As for how? Here, I mean? No idea. It shouldn’t be possible, especially with pneumatic plague, which is ridiculously rare.”

  “How rare?” Clay asked, more to give him time to process than anything else.

  “Maybe three known cases in the United States in the last hundred years,” Jaylyn declared flatly. “One in the last fifty years or so if I recall right. All I can figure is that somewhere, probably in Nashville, there was an outbreak of bubonic plague. At some point, it had to settle somewhere, in someone I mean, in their pulmonary tract and then into the lungs, where it transmuted into the pneumatic variant. Once that happened, it became highly infectious from person-to-person contact and began to spread. I would suspect that it spread rapidly. Onset from exposure can be anywhere from a few hours upwards to a week. How many days walk is it from Nashville to get here?”

  “I…I don’t actually know,” he admitted. “A week? Ten days? But that assumes decent weather and reasonably good health.

  “None of which we’ve had,” she was nodding before he finished. “By now it’s so contagious that there’s almost no way to avoid it if we’re exposed. Thank God you used MOPP gear to move those bodies earlier.”

  “I…it was just instinct,” he admitted. “Something we’ve done before.”

  “Well, your instincts served you well in that case,” she promised. “Probably saved your lives. You’ll have to keep using them, too. And no more leaving the bodies to lay on the road, either. Burn them. Soak them in oil, moonshine, anything that will burn them completely up. And never, ever, be around the bodies without protection. Be sure to always go through decontamination when you return.”

  “I thought plague was a spring and summer thing,” Clay almost sounding as if he were lodging a protest. “How is it here, now?”

  “It’s not just now,” she told him. “I would imagine it started some time ago and has only just now reached what we’d call epidemic levels. But it will get worse. Remember that a lot of the refugees have moved on further south from here, if they bothered stopping at all. While many of them will be infected and die on the trip south, there will be others who are asymptomatic carriers and will be spreading it everywhere they go.”

  “Sweet Mother…I have to call Adcock,” Clay declared at once. “He’s got to know this right away.”

  “I agree, though there is exactly nothing he can do about it at this point,” Jaylyn told him. “It’s already taken hold and is moving with the Exodus. They’re carrying it everywhere, Clay, and
there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it, now.”

  “God help us,” Clay was still reeling.

  “That’s what it will take, I’m afraid,” she nodded. “I’ll go with you to call Adcock. You’re right, he needs to know. It’s possible that the cold will help protect him and the others so long as they limit direct contact with the sick.”

  “What about caring for the sick?” Clay asked as they moved toward the door.

  “Most of them are already dead without proper treatment,” she said mournfully. “Treatment we don’t possess that we can give to them. When I said there wasn’t anything we could do, I meant nothing at all. Some will likely recover, though they will probably be weakened to the point that something else might kill them, but…you can expect anywhere from fifty-to-sixty percent of the people moving south to…to die,” she sighed. There was no way to soften the impact of her words. “That same percentage can probably be applied to anyone they come into contact with, as well.”

  “My God,” Clay whispered. “There’ll be bodies everywhere.”

  “And everyone who touches one without protection will be at risk of contracting the disease,” she confirmed as they neared Operations. “This makes it more important than ever that we keep others out of here,” she told him unnecessarily.

  “By any means necessary,” he whispered.

  -

  “Home Plate, are you certain, repeat certain, of your diagnosis?” Adcock’s voice sounded even more tense after hearing Doctor Thatcher’s explanation.

  “Affirmative, Captain,” Clay replied after seeing Jaylyn’s nod. “There is no question. The virus is present in all three blood samples you provided us.”

  “What do we do?” Adcock asked. “What can we do?” he amended, almost resigned. Clay handed the microphone to Jaylyn.

  “Captain, this is Thatcher,” she said crisply, using what Clay imagined she called her ‘Doctor Voice’. “There is no possibility of any kind of treatment at this point, at least not with anything we have available. The drugs we need aren’t available anymore. As for those of you who are not yet sick, your only hope of protection is to limit your exposure to those who are infected. Avoid any bodily fluids of any kind, including spray from coughing or sneezing. Avoid touching exposed skin or any open wounds for any reason, including treatment. Keep all known infected isolated from others, and in an area that can be easily decontaminated or else destroyed entirely once there is no further need of it as a ward.”

  “Doctor, that sounds as if you’re saying to abandon the sick,” Adcock’s voice revealed what he thought of that idea.

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Captain,” she surprised everyone who heard her sharp retort. “Understand me well, Captain. You have no personal protective equipment available to prevent your own infection. You have access to no drugs that will combat the disease or protect you from it. You have no vaccine that will prevent you from contracting the virus. Your people lack the necessary training for dealing with the infected safely. In short, your situation is completely untenable. You have no defense and no way to fight back. All you can do is withdraw and wait it out. Do you understand?”

  “Doctor…surely there is something.” He sounded almost desperate.

  “I’m sorry, Captain,” her voice softened slightly. “Sorry beyond words. But no, there’s nothing you can do at this point. Spread your people out, so that if someone is infected it won’t spread to everyone. Stay isolated for seven-to-ten days to look for symptoms. Do not assume that being asymptomatic means you aren’t infected. It is a good sign, usually, however.”

  “For how long?” Adcock asked.

  “Until further notice, Captain,” Jaylyn told him flatly. “And if you have a way to contact those south of here, I suggest you do so now, and give them this information. They have a walking, talking, weapon of mass destruction entering their areas, right now. One they also will not likely have any defense against.”

  “As for you and your command, and the people in Jordan, begin now exercising every possible precaution. If you can find a still, use the alcohol as a disinfectant for hands, eating utensils and so forth. It may help, at least a little, in the long run. Other than that, fire will kill anything, including germs left behind by dying infected. Use it. But be extremely careful of coming in contact with bedding or any other cloth that might have bodily fluids absorbed into them. The disease will spread from there. And kill any fleas you see. Take as much care as possible to ensure that you don’t have any of them on you. Use MOPP gear wherever possible to clear and clean areas that have been used to house infected. It will all but certainly protect you from infection but remember to decontaminate the gear after each use. As a last resort, boiling water to create steam will help in that regard, but again, the homemade alcohol is a better option simply by virtue of being able to kill almost anything.”

  “Understood,” Adcock sounded weary. “How long does this usually take to run its course?”

  “Captain, this isn’t the flu, or a stomach virus. It doesn’t run its course, not in the sense you mean. It will continue to spread even from dead bodies. So long as the bacterium can find a suitable host, it will continue to live, spreading through the simplest of contacts. Without access to modern drugs, all we can do is separate ourselves and wait. The ‘course’ will end when all the sick have recovered, or else expired and their remains destroyed completely, along with anything that might contain even a trace of the bacterium. And those who recover without drugs may still be able to infect others, so they will need to remain in isolation and be observed for any kind of symptomatic activity.”

  There was no reply from Adcock for well over a minute. Jaylyn looked at Clay in puzzlement, but Clay merely shrugged, shaking his head. All he could figure was that Adcock was digesting this onslaught of bad news and where it left him.

  “Understood, Doctor,” Adcock finally replied. “Be advised, other commands may try to contact you concerning your diagnosis and plan of action. We will implement your suggestions immediately. With this information, I am hesitant for you to continue sending people this way, but also hesitate to send them further south. At this point, I don’t know what to do with them.”

  Clay reached over and took the microphone.

  “Captain, remember that the schools in Peabody are still standing,” he suggested. “Rather than letting people get this far, you can always send someone to the northern exits and direct them into Peabody, to the high school and elementary schools. I have no ideas what to do as far as caring for them, but both schools are listed as disaster shelters, so there may be blankets and other needs still in storage there, and might even be some foodstuffs there as well. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than what you have now.”

  Again, there was a long silence, presumably during which Adcock was contemplating this.

  “Roger that, Bossman,” Adcock finally replied. “That may be a workable solution, especially from the isolation aspect. If we do that, however, I’m going to need some assistance.” He stopped short of asking.

  Clay exhaled sharply as he closed his eyes. He knew what Adcock wanted, and was willing to help. But how to get that help to him without endangering his people any more than they had already been threatened?

  “Understand your need, Captain, and we’re willing to help with that,” he said finally. “Suggest you send transport and manpower to the interchange. Give us twelve hours and then send two trucks and the manpower to our end of the interchange. Be prepared to have to clear the area of refugees as we’ve had several people leave the interstate at that exit. We will have what you need there, ready for pick-up, in twelve hours, Lord willing and assuming nothing goes wrong. Is there anything you need other than food?”

  “Negative, Bossman,” Adcock’s voice held true relief. “Is the Doctor still there?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Will items sealed in containers be safe to use, Doctor?” Adcock asked. “Assuming the containers are c
leaned before opening, would it be safe for the uninfected to open the crates and use the contents?”

  “So long as they’ve been sealed since before this started, then yes, Captain,” Jaylyn replied after a minute of quick deliberation. “There should be no problem.”

  “Will your opinion change if those containers are brought to the farm?” Adcock surprised her.

  “Negative, Captain,” she replied evenly. “Assuming you are talking about containers that are meant to be weatherproof, then there would be no risk to whoever used the contents once the container is cleaned.”

  “Roger that,” Adcock responded. “Bossman, suggest you have two trucks of your own at the interchange, waiting for us to leave. I have a farewell gift for you. We’ll see you in twelve. Adcock clear.”

  “Home Plate, standing by.” Clay returned the microphone to Leanne, who still looked stunned.

  “I want everyone not on the line to be here at eight o’clock for another emergency meeting,” Clay told Leanne and Janice. “No exceptions. You two take care of that. I have a lot to get moving on and not much time to do it. Leanne, before you get started, ring Kandi and tell her we need her down here ASAP.”

  “Got it,” Leanne replied crisply.

  “What do you suppose this farewell gift is?” Jaylyn asked as the two of them left Operations.

  “I’m going to assume he has a load, or even two truckloads of gear and supplies that he hasn’t opened yet and doesn’t want to go to waste,” Clay replied. He paused a minute, his face grim.

  “He’s preparing himself and his command for the eventuality of their not surviving,” he said finally. “He’s securing as much of his gear as he can in preparation for that.”

  “I suspected as much,” she nodded. “I am so sorry that I can’t do anything to help fight this.” Her face betrayed how hard this had hit her. As a doctor, she was meant to stop things like this.

  “This is in no way your fault, Doctor Thatcher,” Clay said formally. “More than that, without your hard work over the last forty-eight hours we would have no idea what we’re facing. A moment of weakness on our part could have doomed us all. Thanks to you, we at least know what we’re facing. Personally, I’m grateful for that, and glad you’re here. I’m also grateful for the many times since you’ve gotten here that you’ve patched up my men and women. We all are.”