Pandemic: The Innocents: A Post-Apocalyptic Medical Thriller Fiction Series (The Pandemic Series Book 2)

by Bobby Akart

  These numbers paled in comparison to Europe and Latin America, where the onset of the plague could be traced back a month or more. The Far East was now reporting active cases, and nations were scrambling to close their borders and expel foreign nationals who appeared to be ill.

  The wealthiest of America’s elite were fleeing the country, headed for island nations like New Zealand. Mac knew, however, that all it took was one infected individual in their perceived safe havens to cause the demise of the richest people in their hideaways.

  What began as a steady drip, drip, drip of patients into hospitals and clinics a few days ago had turned to a steady drizzle and ultimately into a monsoon following the President’s press conference.

  Mac was still resentful of the way she had been treated. Had the President or her superiors followed her advice weeks ago, a little fear might have been instilled into the American public, but a good scare could’ve motivated everyone into adopting protective measures gradually. Today, the Pandemic Pandemonium, which had become the media’s favorite tagline, was truly happening.

  To answer Hunter’s question, how close are we to going over the cliff, Mac determined that society was holding on to a feeble branch that stuck out of the earth. And it was about to snap.

  Chapter 48

  Day Forty-Three

  DTRA/CIA Facility

  Fort Collins

  Mac had twenty minutes before Dr. Matta and Dr. Gene were going to join her for a conference call with Janie. They were aware that Janie and Mac had frequent conversations and exchanged information on a regular basis. It was not a problem to discuss findings with Janie as far as the Fort Collins group was concerned. Janie, on the other hand, would lose her job if Baggett or Spielman became aware of their continued professional relationship, or even their friendship for that matter.

  Mac sent Janie a text and asked if she could come on the line early so they could talk before Drs. Matta and Gene joined them. Earlier, Janie had texted Mac and told her to watch the news this evening. Dr. Spielman would be dropping a bomb, she’d advised.

  The two connected immediately and Janie told Mac of the briefing earlier in the day. She also told Mac about Baggett’s sudden disappearance.

  “Why doesn’t Dr. Spielman realize that D-Bag is nothing more than a mole and a conduit directly to the White House?” asked Mac.

  “I don’t know,” replied Janie. “Or maybe he does. It seems the director wants information to get back to the President through Baggett. I don’t know for certain, but if he follows through with the anger he exhibited during the briefing, the press will be ready to report the sparks flying between Spielman and Garcia.”

  “For sure,” said Mac.

  “Mac, I’m kinda over it around here, you know?” stated Janie.

  “Janie, we’ve talked about this,” Mac responded. “We’re in this together and you’re too valuable on the inside to quit. Besides, I’m afraid things might start to get ugly soon.”

  “Whadya mean by ugly?”

  “I’m a realist, so don’t get me wrong after you hear what I’ve got to say. We’re gonna work our tails off to find a cure or a vaccine for this nightmare superbug, but people are starting to freak out.”

  Janie quickly interrupted. “You don’t have to tell me, I live in Atlanta, remember. There’s already rioting around the hospitals. A local Kroger store got hit by a flash mob this morning in Sandy Springs. Mac, it wasn’t the usual suspects who organized the mob. It was soccer moms.”

  Mac laughed at her friend. “C’mon.”

  “No, I’m serious, Mac. I saw the footage. Grocery stores are being emptied out and they’re not getting restocked. Apparently, truckers aren’t willing to drive far from home because they’re afraid of catching the disease.”

  “Well, our President did urge social distancing,” added Mac.

  Janie continued. “Yesterday afternoon, my parents and sister left town for our cabin in Murphy, North Carolina. They begged me to go, but I refused. I wanna see this thing through.”

  “Maybe you should’ve gone,” said Mac dryly. She loved her friend and couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone in a big city like Atlanta when the worst came out in people.

  “No, they’ll be fine without me,” said Janie. “Dad’s family lives in the area and the cabin is secluded. They have lots of supplies plus Dad can hunt and fish.”

  “Okay, stay put, then. My suggestion to you is to catch up with your family in Murphy. I’m not sure flying here is such a great idea without wearing a full suit, with goggles, gloves, and a respirator.”

  Janie laughed. “That would scare everyone off the plane. I could ride in first class for sure.”

  Mac heard her associates talking outside the door, so she admonished Janie that it was time to get professional and get these thoughts of coming to the Rockies out of her mind.

  The men entered the conference room and Mac made the formal introductions. After a few minutes discussing Dr. Spielman’s upcoming media appearances, the group got down to business.

  “Janie and I have compared my updated data from the ASSURE software with her epi curve,” started Mac. “We’ve also overlaid these reports with those generated by EIDR, the Emerging Infectious Disease Repository. This is my brutally honest opinion. We only have a matter of days before the plague ravages the earth’s population.”

  “I agree,” added Janie. “The ever-increasing virulence of the pathogen and the drug-resistant nature of the modified strain will result in an enormous surge in symptomatic patients as well as plague-related deaths daily.”

  “I think we can all agree on this, so the question becomes do we focus on a vaccine or a cure?” asked Dr. Matta.

  “Time is not on our side,” added Dr. Gene.

  Mac continued. “Let’s talk about a vaccine first. I hate to use the phrase outside the box, but I suppose it’s appropriate in this context. We need to adopt a new strategy, one that’s outside the box, for battling this killer.”

  “What do you have in mind, Mac?” asked Dr. Matta.

  Mac explained, “Recently, there was a new study at China’s Peking University in Beijing regarding a new vaccine for influenza. The traditional flu shot has been losing its effectiveness for years and the FluMist vaccine causes problems for those with weak immune systems. The scientists in Beijing genetically modified the influenza virus so it cannot replicate in human cells.”

  Dr. Gene sat up in his chair and spoke into the speaker sitting in the center of the conference table. “I’m familiar with this study. The vaccine contains recombinant DNA technology and a common insect virus to facilitate the acceptance of the vaccine into the body.”

  “We don’t have the time nor the resources to commission a project like this,” said Dr. Matta.

  “Let me talk to our geneticists and see what they know about this,” said Janie. “At the very least, I can get Dr. Gene some contact information in Beijing if he can overcome the language hurdles.”

  Dr. Gene smiled. “I have a research assistant that speaks fluent Mandarin. Get us a name and number and we’ll take it from there.”

  Mac made some notes then continued. “Another option is based upon a study at the Imperial College of London. The synthetic biologists there re-engineered yeast cells to manufacture penicillin. By inserting DNA from bacteria, or in our case, the plague strain, into baker’s yeast, the geneticists were able to re-engineer the yeast to create a new form of antibiotic.”

  Once again, Dr. Matta was the bearer of bad news. “This is also a good option, but the time it would take is beyond our three models. The world will lose ninety-nine percent of its population in the meantime.”

  Mac had a third option that she decided to pursue herself. Dr. Matta might be correct in his statements, but Mac intended to save somebody, even if their names were Adam and Eve.

  Chapter 49

  Day Forty-Three

  Fort Collins

  Mac was exhausted. Between the long hours in the
lab and the late night conversations with Hunter as he contemplated retirement, she was ready for a break away from it all. Last night, Hunter decided to tender his resignation to both Agent Sanders and the DTRA. His official reason would be burnout, but the true reason was he wanted to spend more time getting Quandary Peak ready. There were a lot of preparations to be made as well as a decision concerning Mac’s parents. She was going to spend the day with Hunter while members of the staff in Fort Collins ran tests on her suggested options to stem the spread of the plague.

  They arrived at the Wells Fargo branch in Fort Collins located near Costco, their next stop before heading to Quandary Peak. Hunter had revealed fifty thousand dollars to Mac the night before, who immediately had a good time rolling in the money on top of the bed. It took them an hour to put the hundred-dollar bills back into neat stacks secured by rubber bands.

  Hunter was delayed at the teller window and was becoming annoyed when the branch manager approached him. He was carrying Hunter’s withdrawal slip and driver’s license.

  The manager introduced himself and asked Hunter to join him in his office. Mac shrugged to Hunter as the two followed the banker into his office. The man dropped his heavy frame into a leather chair and gestured for them to take a seat across from his desk.

  “Mr. Hunter, I see that you are visiting us from Virginia. Are you on vacation?” asked the banker with an air of superiority.

  “No,” replied Hunter curtly. He wasn’t a fan of bankers.

  “Um, okay. Well, sir, the reason I’ve asked you into my office is due to the size of this withdrawal. It is twenty thousand you wish to withdraw and not two thousand, correct?”

  “Yes, is there a problem?”

  The banker fidgeted nervously in his chair. “Mr. Hunter, the size of the transaction, of course, required my approval. In order to approve this, I had to carefully scrutinize your account with us, where I found that you’ve made a series of large withdrawals over the last several days.”

  “So?”

  “Mr. Hunter, our policy, in compliance with U.S. Treasury department regulations, requires us to scrutinize large repetitive cash withdrawals. If we believe something to be out of the ordinary, then I must necessarily advise my compliance department as well as fill out a FinCEN Form 104.”

  “A what?” asked Mac.

  “That’s a Currency Transaction Report, ma’am. The Bank Secrecy Act requires us to notify the authorities anytime one of our customers withdraws more than ten thousand dollars.”

  “That doesn’t sound very secret to me,” said Mac. “In fact, it seems like a pretty big violation of my friend’s privacy.”

  The banker became confused as to whom he should address, Hunter or Mac. Hunter smirked as he recognized Mac’s ability to make the stuffed shirt uncomfortable.

  “Fill out the form and give me my money,” said Hunter. “It is, after all, my money, right?”

  “Yes, sir, and I must apologize. I see that you’ve been a customer for many years. It’s just that I’m required to report suspicious activity that might involve money laundering, tax evasion, or other criminal activities.”

  Mac couldn’t control her laughter. Hunter covered his mouth, attempting to hide his smile.

  “Show him, honey,” said Mac in between fits of laughter. “Go ahead, show him.”

  Hunter reached for his wallet, which pulled his shirt away from his holstered sidearm. The banker’s face exhibited sheer terror. When Hunter produced his wallet and flashed his FBI badge, the banker slumped in his chair.

  Mac laughed again. “Somebody just wet themselves,” she whispered to Hunter with a snicker.

  Hunter turned his attention to the banker. “Are we good to go now?”

  “Yes, sir, Mister, um, Agent Hunter. I’ll attend to this personally and no CTR will be required.”

  Hunter smiled and nodded to the banker as he exited his office, making a beeline for the teller stations.

  “That was mean.” Hunter chuckled as he squeezed Mac’s knee, causing her to squirm.

  “He deserved it, the pompous fool,” she said, laughing. “My favorite part was when you said, it is, after all, my money.” Mac burst out laughing again.

  “It is, and soon as we leave, I’m gonna email my father’s trustee and tell him to open another bank account so we don’t get harassed at every Wells Fargo in the area. I thought about opening an account in Breckenridge anyway, for convenience reasons. There’s a Bank of the West there, I believe, just down the street from the UPS Store.”

  “Do you have packages to pick up?” asked Mac.

  Hunter laughed. “You have no idea. It’ll take several trips.”

  The banker returned, all smiles, cash safely tucked into a zippered bank bag, and with an abundance of apologies.

  *****

  Hunter and Mac both pulled flatbed carts out of the stalls in front of the local Costco store. Their primary focus was going to be on medium- to long-term foods such as canned goods, packaged meals, and condiments. Despite the fact the Quandary Peak home was fully operational on solar power, Hunter considered refrigerated items to be part of a short-term food supply. He did plan on filling the deep freezer located in the basement with a variety of meat, chicken, and fish, but he’d make those purchases in Breckenridge.

  This was their first trip to Costco and they were both surprised at the large crowd inside. Only half the checkout lanes were open and each was backed up with half a dozen customers.

  To get to the nonperishable foods, they had to push their way through the fresh meats and produce department. “Hunter, the food’s almost gone. People have bought nearly everything here.”

  “I see that,” added Hunter. “I think others are starting to become concerned about what happens next. Most grocery stores operate on a just-in-time delivery system, even the warehouse outlets like Sam’s and Costco. They don’t have products stored in the back. Look around you. This is the back.”

  “Where do we start?” asked Mac. She’d never seen anything like this. When a hurricane was approaching, the news media would send a film crew to Home Depot or a Publix, showing lines of shoppers. She’d never personally been around a major storm or catastrophe when the public was in a buying frenzy.

  Hunter pointed toward the tall metal shelves stacked with dry goods at the end of the store. “Let’s start with dry goods like rice, pasta, and beans.”

  “These big bags?” asked Mac, holding up a twenty-pound bag of rice.

  “Perfect. Grab five of those. I’ll pull the bags of dried beans. Have you ever soaked beans before?”

  “What? Soaked beans?” asked Mac.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” said Hunter laughingly. Mac’s cart was full of a variety of pastas, whole grain brown rice, and five kinds of dried beans.

  They moved on to the breakfast aisle. Hunter loaded up a variety of cereals, oatmeal, grits and Cream of Wheat. He began to push his cart toward the canned and packaged foods when Mac added a box of twelve blueberry Pop-Tarts.

  “Really?” asked Hunter. “That’s not very nutritious.”

  “So what?” replied Mac. “Don’t you know that every girl needs blueberry Pop-Tarts if the world is coming to an end?”

  Hunter shrugged and nodded his approval. He stopped and topped his flatbed cart with baking supplies, including flour, sugar, vegetable oil, and spices. With their carts overflowing, they headed toward the cashiers, where the line had grown even longer than earlier.

  “Mac, this won’t end until the store is emptied of everything edible,” said Hunter. “Can you handle these two carts while I fill up a third? I’m gonna hit the packaged foods and canned goods again.”

  While Hunter hustled off to fill another cart, Mac observed the faces of the people around her. They were worried. Some were checking items off checklists while others were using a calculator to total their purchases before checkout, attempting to avoid the proverbial financial embarrassment because they overshopped.

  As t
he checkout line inched forward, Mac turned to look at the shelves in the fresh grocery section. They were empty now. She immediately wondered if they’d be refilled. What happens when the food trucks stop coming? What will this store look like when three people begin to fight over the last bag of rice or beans?

  She was beginning to understand what the collapse would look like.

  Chapter 50

  Day Forty-Three

  Little White Wedding Chapel

  Las Vegas

  Eighteen-year-old Frederik and his girlfriend of three years, Erika, had met while they attended Gymnasium, the Danish equivalent of America’s senior high school level of education. Gifted academic talents, the young lovers jumped at the opportunity to attend the University of Nevada Las Vegas in the International Education exchange student program. They’d just completed their freshman year at UNLV and decided to spend the summer touring America with their fellow Danes.

  During the afternoon, they’d enjoyed a concert at the Thomas & Mack Center put on by Kidz Bop Kids, a musical event featuring a compilation of Billboard Top 100 songs performed by various child artists. The tour, named Best Time Ever, was making the rounds through the United States, and today’s concert was their final performance.

  Afterward, full of love and excitement of life, Frederick suddenly stopped in the middle of the concert and dropped to one knee. He’d visited a local pawn shop on Charleston Boulevard with his buddies earlier in the day to purchase a simple engagement ring. Before they returned to Denmark for a month to visit their families, Frederik wanted to marry the love of his life.

  After he popped the question, Erika joyously accepted and the two vowed to get married right there in Las Vegas, the wedding capital of the world. Amidst the hustle and bustle of concertgoers dancing in the cloudy mist that emanated from the artificial smoke machines throughout the venue, they kissed, hugged, and declared their everlasting love for one another.