The Liger Plague (Book 1)

by Joseph Souza

  The rain beat increasingly harder against the roof of the house. In a matter of minutes the wind started howling, blowing through the trees with a biblical vengeance. Thunder boomed like nuclear blasts, followed by the illuminating dazzle of lightning. He prayed that all the people on Cooke’s Island would survive this violent storm, and he felt the tremendous burden of guilt that came with trying to protect his family and keep them safe.

  Chapter 12

  The rain and wind got worse. He looked out the window every so often and watched as it punished the island into submission. Jagged bolts of lightning electrified the ground. Trees bent sideways in the blustering wind. Tag could have sworn that he never heard thunder that loud in his life. The swells out in the bay looked to be at least ten to fifteen feet. Massive whitecaps exploded against the rocks piled up along the coast.

  He worried about the thousands of people spread out along the island, trying to withstand the elements. The thought of them huddled in the wind and rain left him despairing and guilt-ridden. If only he could have somehow calmed the unruly mob and organized them into some of the vacant homes on the island, yet reality told him that he had no other choice. There was no way he could have subdued all those people. And at this time of year, there weren’t many vacant homes. It was either protect his own family or suffer the consequences like everyone else. Besides, the pox symptoms would soon be progressing at an alarming rate, and many people would be too disabled to move.

  Monica groaned from the couch. Tag rushed over to see how she was feeling. He looked over at his daughter and saw her also writhing in discomfort. Their faces radiated a bright red, and he knew that both were suffering from the debilitating backaches and body pain, common symptoms before the skin started to blister. He took out the thermometer and checked his wife’s temperature. A reading of one hundred and two. He didn’t need to check Taylor to see that her temperature was similarly elevated. A deafening clap of thunder resonated overhead, shaking the house and all the glass sculptures hanging inside the room. It felt like the aftershock of a strong earthquake.

  He went into the kitchen to retrieve some ice and saw a streak of light explode in the backyard. A deafening crack went up, followed by a long, protracted groan. By the time he discovered what had happened, the pine tree had begun its descent. A few frightful seconds passed before it crashed through the roof. The terrifying sound of splintering wood caused both Monica and Taylor to sit up and take notice. A section of the pine’s trunk busted through the ceiling and now rested three feet from the floor. A gaping, shredded hole opened up, and rainwater poured into the room and pooled up along the floor. As if he didn’t have anything else to worry about.

  He ran out to the garage for a tarp and two garbage bins and brought them inside. The rainwater gushed onto the hardwood floor, and a large puddle formed in the middle of the room. He set out the tarp and then placed the empty trash bucket under the stream and mopped up the excess water. The walls of the house shook under the tremendous force of the wind. Tag got as many towels out of the bathroom cabinet as possible and sopped up all the moisture. After about thirty minutes he checked in on Monica and Taylor. The ice on their foreheads had melted, so he got some more and returned to them. The ice in the chest had started to melt as well, and he knew that by continuing to open the cooler he had released a lot of cold air.

  Despite the bags of ice on their foreheads, their temperatures had come down very little since the last time he’d checked. Reaching into his medical kit, he took out the bottle of liquid Tylenol and codeine and gave them each another spoonful of the medicines. Then he cleaned and replenished their IV bags and set them back on their platforms so fluid could drip into their veins. Once he’d set them back up, he went over and replaced the trash barrel, emptying the full one over the deck.

  He was about to go back into the garage and get a third trash barrel when he heard a knock at the door. Who in their right mind would be traveling through this storm? He grabbed his rifle off the kitchen table and ran upstairs to the bedroom. The windows rattled with each billowing gust. As he approached the glass, he could see the massive waves rippling in from the ocean. They smashed up against the tiny islands and small lighthouse standing at the mouth of the bay and continuing to flash its beam to all lost ships. He struggled to open the window and, in the process, got pushed back by a blast of wind. Sticking his head out into the pummeling rain, he looked down and, to his astonishment, saw Versa standing at his doorstep dressed in a long, yellow raincoat and rain hat, and holding her rifle in a green plastic trash bag. The hard rain pounded the driveway and nearby roofs. It sounded like a gigantic sizzling pan. The wind howled through the trees, causing them to sway back and forth.

  “Versa, what are you doing here?” he shouted into the howling wind.

  “Let me in, Colonel, and I’ll tell you!” she called up, holding the brim of her plastic rain cap while struggling to stay upright.

  “You left here by your own choice. Why should I take you back?”

  “Because you know I can help you. I’m good with firearms, Colonel, and know how to use them.”

  “I can take care of everything myself, thank you.”

  “Please, I have nowhere else to go.”

  He sighed. “I’ll be right down.”

  He slammed the window shut, his hair soaking wet, and made his way downstairs. Releasing the deadbolt, he turned the door’s central lock and opened the door. A buckshot of warm rain blew sideways and inside the house, soaking the oak floor. Versa quickly scampered inside and past the threshold. Using his shoulder, Tag struggled to close it. He secured all the locks and slipped the deadbolt back in place. Upon seeing Versa, the tough and durable islander, he leaned back against the door and stared at her as she undid the latches on her bright yellow raincoat. Puddles of water had formed at the front door and around her boots. He’d worry about that later. Secretly, he was glad she’d returned.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he said, wiping a hand through his damp hair. “No, better yet, how in God’s name did you get here in this storm?”

  “Walked like I always do, Colonel. There’s no storm out there that scares this lady, and I been through quite a few bad blows. Living on this island all these years, I seen plenty of nor’easters spinning through these parts and many a lot worse than this little shit-kicker.” She took off her rain jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. “Got any tea?”

  “Why didn’t you stay home?”

  “Think I wanted to leave there? That crazy mob was everywhere, and they were breaking into my house and trying to kill me. One guy even climbed up on the garage and broke in the upstairs bedroom. I had no other choice but to leave. So I slipped out the side door and made my way over here in the wind and rain. People are sick and dying like dogs, Colonel. All my neighbors were forced out of their houses, too, not that I liked any of those weasels, always gossiping behind my back and spreading rumors. Kept the rifle out so they’d keep their distance, and my hand on the trigger just in case.”

  “And you’ve not gotten sick yet?”

  “Feel as fine as the day I was born,” she said, kicking off her boots. “Kept a safe distance from all them sickos. No, sir, I’m not going to let them breathe their dirty germs on this old gal.”

  “How can that be?”

  “Good genes, I guess. My mother lived into her nineties.” She stared at him. “And what about you? Why aren’t you coming down with the crud, Colonel?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Since you’re here, how about helping me mop up this rainwater? I’ll get you an AVAB mask.”

  “See you had a little accident,” she said, gesturing toward the hole in the ceiling. “That’s what happens when you try and build a house high up on a bluff overlooking the ocean. End up paying through the teeth for the view. Last thing I’d ever want is a view of that ocean.”

  “Done gloating?”

  “I ain’t gloating. Nope, no gloating here. It’s the plain truth. This i
sland used to be a good place with hardworking people when I was a kid growing up in the sixties. Everything started to go downhill when you mainlanders started showing up and buying up all the old houses just to tear them down and build yourselves these fancy new ones with a view.”

  “Didn’t stop you from coming over here when the shit hit the fan.”

  The old woman turned to observe his wife and daughter lying on the couch. “They’re burning up pretty good.”

  “What did you see on your way over here?” he asked. “Are people taking refuge from the elements?”

  “Families and little kids are huddled on the streets and sicker than dogs. Some busted into cars and had to fight to keep others out. Them parents are desperate and will do anything they can to save them little tykes, even if that means attacking people for food and supplies. Of course they didn’t try any of that with me. Feel sorry for them kids and all, but there wasn’t much I could do to help. Could only protect myself.”

  “Consider yourself lucky I let you in.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t turn down an old pain-in-the-ass like me,” she said, laughing. “To know me is to love me.”

  “Don’t push your luck.”

  “You should have had all of those trees taken down years ago. Roots don’t go down very deep, and up here they’re susceptible to a good blow.”

  “The tree got hit by lightning, for your information. Besides, in hindsight, there’s a lot of things I should have done.”

  Versa walked over to the window and peered outside. “Not every day you see a tree hit by lightning that close to the base. Got a chainsaw?”

  “That’s one tool I don’t own.”

  “I got a good one back at the house. American made and reliable as all get-out. Hate those Chinese products. My bum of a husband bought it ten years ago, before he dropped dead. Hardly been used except when I cut up firewood for the old potbelly.” She stared up at the gaping hole, rainwater gushing into the trash barrel. “We can fix this in a jiffy, Colonel. Once the rain stops, we’ll drive back to my garage and get that chainsaw. Cut the tree into pieces, drape the tarp over the roof, and we’ve temporarily fixed the problem until you can get some roofers up there.”

  “You’re assuming I’m going to let you stay.”

  “Oh, of course you’ll let me stay. You wanna know why? Because I used to be a nurse over at Maine Med before I got sick of all those pretentious doctors and whiny patients giving me grief all the time. Called it quits to stay here on the island full time and clean houses, one of which happens to be that Jew doctor up on the hill. My parents died a few years back and left me the house. My useless husband lobstered the bay when he wasn’t out drinking like a fish. Besides, I know how to shoot a rifle and ain’t afraid to use it, as you can very well attest to.”

  “Okay, you can stay for a while, but my wife and daughter are going to need some looking after. Mind watching them?”

  “What’s everyone coming down with, anyway? Some kind of Chinaman bird flu?”

  “I’m afraid it’s way worse than the avian flu. How familiar are you with smallpox?”

  “Smallpox? I thought they got rid of that a long time ago?”

  “Hardly. This one has been specifically engineered for an attack, which means that it has been manipulated to fight off most vaccinations and cause widespread damage.”

  “How come you don’t have it, then?”

  “Whoever sent this virus over to the island left me a vaccine on the drive up to Maine,” he said, running his hand through his daughter’s damp hair. “Everything is only going to get worse, Versa. Not only is smallpox involved, but there’s a secondary virus attached to the first that’s set to go off whenever a person uses their cell phone. It’s this secondary virus that I fear might be the worst of the two.”

  “How the hell do you know all this stuff?”

  “I might as well tell you everything. I’m the director of the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases. USAMRID. We investigate and identify the most lethal infectious diseases known to mankind and around the world, and then try to find ways to deal with the organism.”

  “Blah, blah, blah! It’s all gobbledygook to me. Get me one of them masks so I don’t catch this crud.”

  “Smallpox is highly infectious once the rash breaks. It’s transmitted by inhalation, mostly through face-to-face contact within about five to six feet. To be on the safe side, you should wear the mask at all times.”

  Versa pulled her jet black hair into a ponytail and adjusted the mask around her face. Just as quickly she pulled it off and threw it aside. Grabbing a towel, she soaked it in tap water and sat down next to Monica, using it to wipe down his wife’s sweaty forehead.

  “Why aren’t you wearing the mask?”

  She turned to face him. “I’ve lived fifty-three years on this earth without a mask, and I ain’t about to wear one now. So when it’s my turn to croak, then so be it.”

  “Your choice. We’ll wait for this storm to blow over. If Monica and Taylor are feeling any better by then, we’ll make a quick run back to your house and grab that chainsaw before this downed tree causes any further damage.”

  “You look tired, Colonel. Why don’t you shut your eyes for a quick spell, and I’ll watch your wife and kid. Least I can do for taking me in again. Go on now. Get yourself some rest.”

  He wouldn’t admit it to Versa, but he was glad that this tough island woman had returned. Despite her cantankerous personality and gruff demeanor, she’d be helpful to them, assuming she didn’t come down sick herself, which he had no doubt she would by refusing to wear the mask. Fatigue came over him as he listened to the booms of thunder and the sheets of rain pounding the roof. Rainwater continued to pour into the trash barrel. He got up and emptied it one last time before collapsing in the armchair.

  When Tag was little, his mother used to tell him that thunder was merely the angels bowling in heaven. He closed his eyes and envisioned a giant bowling alley with God sitting behind the front desk while angels rolled strikes, spares and splits. The wind howled, and the sound of rainwater pouring into the new trash barrel filled his ears. In a matter of seconds he fell asleep.

  Chapter 13

  He woke up in his chair the following morning, not quite believing he’d slept through the night. The house was calm and quiet, indicating to him that the storm had long passed. The first rays of the morning’s sun were filtering in through the drapes. The splintered tree branch dangled through the hole in the ceiling. The rainwater had stopped gushing into the bucket, replaced by a steady drip. He got up and looked out the window and saw a glowing orange sky in the eastern horizon. The ocean appeared calm and smooth. He turned and saw Versa walking through the kitchen and into the living room, attending to Monica and Taylor, both of whom were now sitting up in their beds and spooning soup into their mouths. The sight of them brought a smile to his face.

  “How are you guys feeling?” He walked over to them.

  “A lot better, hon. I think we turned the corner on this,” Monica said, smiling through blistered lips. “A good night’s sleep is apparently all we needed. Oh, and Nurse Versa helping us get better. She’s gone out of her way to help us, Tag.”

  “Thanks, Versa.”

  “Don’t you thank me.”

  He placed his hand over his wife’s hand and smiled, knowing they were hardly out of the woods. Many times with these types of diseases there was a short period where the patient felt like they were getting better only to suffer a worse relapse the next day. He only hoped their recovery was real.

  “Would you guys be okay if Versa and I drove back to her house real quick to retrieve her chainsaw? I need to cut that tree up and patch the hole in the roof before another storm hits us.”

  “Sure, Tag, go ahead. Taylor and I can take care of ourselves right now.” She looked up at Versa standing there with her ruddy hands on her hips. “Thank you so much for taking care of us last night, Versa.”

>   “Wasn’t nothing I hadn’t done before, lady.”

  “We should be going early before things start to get crazy,” Tag said, “if they already haven’t by now. That way we can slip into the garage without anyone seeing us.”

  “Waste not, want not, Colonel.”

  Tag kissed his wife. “I promise you we’ll be back in a jiffy, hon.” He then kissed Taylor.

  Tag holstered his Magnum and grabbed his Saiga, passing Versa the rifle she’d brought with her, which was an old Remington from the fifties. They made their way outside to the golf cart parked in the driveway. Despite the rainstorm last night, the cart started up no problem. He took off down Sandy Lane, staring out at the blue ocean, and navigated toward her house. All the streets appeared empty after the storm. Where had all the people gone? Storm debris lay over the road, making it difficult for him to maneuver around the busted limbs and downed tree branches. He raced through the near empty streets until he pulled up to Versa’s home located halfway up the hill.

  “Where the hell is everyone?” Versa asked.

  “The storm must have driven them all into shelter.”

  “There’s not enough homes on this island to handle all seven thousand people.”

  “Then your guess is as good as mine.”

  “I’m going to scooch inside my garage real quick and get the chainsaw and gas can. Watch my back in case any of them sickos try and grab me.”

  “I’ll be right behind you the entire time.”

  Versa tiptoed to the front of her garage. Tag followed a few steps behind, keeping his eye out for any of the diseased who might see him. Versa moved pretty well for her age. She pulled out a set of keys and quietly opened the side door to the garage. Tag held his breath. Birds chirped in the trees above. Squirrels rushed out and chased each other playfully, searching for nuts and spiraling up and down the trees. The air felt clean and calm, and the sky above radiated a deep, clear blue. Had it not been for the terrorist attack, it would have been the perfect summer day on Cooke’s Island. Versa entered the garage, and as she did, he stuck his head inside, noticing that everything was stacked neatly on the shelves. He heard a noise out on the street and, upon turning, saw five people staggering down the driveway toward him.