Reaper

by Buckhout, Craig

  There was dead silence in the room, everyone deep in thought. Finally, Seth quietly said, “Max?”

  Max looked over at him.

  “I got this photo from that friend in San Diego.”

  Max looked at the screen of Seth’s laptop. It showed a close-up of a DHS cop wearing a black balaclava and black gloves. The balaclava didn’t conform to the face, though. There was something underneath it that could be a surgical mask.

  “Tell him thanks, Seth. And you may as well tell him to be extremely careful because there’s possibly a badass virus going around. Fucking feds, they could have at least warned us. …Okay, we’ve got work to do. First, let’s call an emergency council meeting. Will, can you get a hold of them and have them meet in the second floor office area, right outside my sleeping quarters, as soon as possible. We better get Myra in on it, too, since it concerns medical …oh, and Frank as well. If we start separating people we’re going to have feeding issues. Plus, if this thing is as serious as it sounds, we may have trouble getting food, period, especially if a panic hits.”

  “I’d like to bring in Raha Ahmadi and Will’s wife into it as well,” Dr. Patel said. “They’ve both been helping out in the infirmary. Myra and I are going to need some help checking residents for symptoms. Two people are not going to be able to handle it.”

  “Okay. Heidi, will you use the PA to announce mandatory meetings for residents, starting about two hours from now. The schedule will be posted on the door to the briefing room. That’ll give us time to get set up. Now, I need to let the front gate know what’s going on as well as anyone working at the P.D.”

  “And I’ve got to call the hospital. They need to know about this, too,” Dr. Patel said.

  Max raised his index finger. “Hey doc, you better bring masks to our meeting with the council. We may as well set the example and get started.”

  She nodded. “And remember, when you’re talking to people about this, someone is normally only contagious when they present symptoms. From what we know so far, that means elevated temperature, body aches, headaches, and of course the lesions. Until then, normal precautions such as hand washing, along with mask and gloves, should adequately protect people. We don’t want to start a panic here.” Dr. Patel said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  Twelve of them sat on the floor, around the room, backs up against the wall of the office area just outside Max and Myra’s sleeping quarters. Each wore a surgical mask, eyes shifting nervously from one to the other, seeking validation of their fears in the expressions of others. Nobody could believe what they were hearing.

  “So,” Dr. Patel continued, “Valley Medical saw sixty some patients with similar symptoms just today and somewhere around forty yesterday. And that’s just Valley Medical and just part of this infection cycle. It’ll probably get worse, peaking tomorrow on the Fourth of July and tail off after that before picking up speed ten to fifteen days later. But let’s assume that’s the number, one hundred. Now, let’s say Regional, O’Connor, Good Sam, and Kaiser all have the same numbers. That means somewhere around five hundred possible infections in just San Jose alone.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, San Jose has a population of about a million people. Los Angeles has nearly four million people. So L.A. could already have as many as two thousand infected. Of course you have San Diego, San Francisco, Sacramento, and Oakland, too. But even if you don’t count them, or all the other communities, and you just count San Jose and Los Angeles, then in the last two days, in this infection cycle, you have twenty five hundred people who have been exposed and are showing symptoms. If each one of them infects between ten and twenty others, which historically is the average for viruses like this, in just three cycles, about a month and a half, you have somewhere between two point five million and twenty million people with the virus in just California alone. I can’t even imagine what it would be nationwide …or worldwide.

  Frank muttered, “Shit.”

  “Okay, okay, so there’s this bad flu going around, right? Everyone is getting sicker than a dog. It’s messy, people suffer, maybe even some die, but in the end, what, four, five, seven days later, whatever it takes for someone to get over it, everyone is back to normal. Sure it’s going to be difficult, we’re going to have problems, but we’ll get over it, right? We’ve all had the flu before, it’s nothing new,” Jessica said.

  Dr. Patel shook her head. “First, we’re calling it the flu, but it’s probably not a flu virus at all. Secondly, I wish I could tell you that the people who contract this virus will get better, but so far it is one hundred percent fatal. It’s early, though, so that number may soften. But to date, nobody has recovered. Death comes in as few as five days from the onset of symptoms. So far, just in the calls my hospital has made in the last twenty minutes or so, five hospitals around the country have reported deaths. None of the other patients admitted are showing signs of improvement.”

  “If it’s not the flu, what the hell is it?” Steve asked.

  “Don’t know for sure. There are a number of possibilities. One of the doctors at Valley Med thinks it’s Hemorrhagic Smallpox. Some call it black pox. The symptoms, the way it progresses, the death rate, are very similar. If he’s right about that, we’re in serious, serious trouble. Smallpox is historically one of the most contagious and deadly diseases known to mankind, even in less lethal strains. In the nineteen sixties and seventies it was researched for possible use as a biological weapon by both the U.S. and the Soviet Union because it is so contagious. There’ve been unconfirmed reports that in the eighties, the Russians engineered and weaponized a strain of Hemorrhagic Smallpox resistant to any treatment or vaccination. Supposedly those stockpiles have been destroyed though.”

  “Destroyed, my ass,” Frank said. “I’d bet my left …toe they sold the stuff to the ragheads. And that would also explain your comment about this first cycle peaking on the Fourth of July. They hit us on other holidays. In fact, I think the first attack was on Memorial Day, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, and those five who died; you can bet they had something to do with it, too. The ones who did this were probably the first ones exposed, so the first to show symptoms, and the first to die,” Steve said. “Martyrdom.”

  “It would also explain another thing,” Dr. Patel said. “These numbers are way too high and way too soon for a run-of-the-mill virus. It suggests intentional exposure across the entire United States.”

  “Wait, wait, hold on a second,” Phyllis Barns said. She put both hands to her head. “Go back to what you said before. Are you saying, …” she took a breath and let it out, “are you saying we’re all going to die?”

  “Oh, no …no, no, no, not at all.” Dr. Patel said holding a palm up and out. “Some people won’t contract the virus; they’ll manage to avoid contact with the infected, or maybe they’ll be somehow immune, or maybe they’ll just get lucky, so some will definitely survive. Hopefully that includes us. Maybe the plans we’re making here right now will protect us, or at least most of us.”

  “Jesus, Doc. Most of us?” Jack Keeble, one of the council members, said. “You sure don’t paint a pretty picture.”

  “These numbers, they don’t …look, I’m a physician, those are the facts. It does no good to ignore them. It’s what we’re facing. We have to be realistic here.”

  “Yeah, but somebody will come up with a vaccine or a treatment, right? What’s it called, the CDC, they’ve got to be working on it. It’s their job.” Raha said.

  “Oh, I’m sure they’re working on it, but the numbers are too big and growing too fast. There’s simply no stopping it. They know it. They have to know it. I’ll bet they haven’t even identified it yet. Even if they figure out what it is and come up with a vaccine, they still have to test it and get it into production in big enough numbers that they can vaccinate, what, two hundred to three hundred million people. It’s simply impossible.”

  “Fuckin’ CDC,” Frank said. “That’s probably why we haven’t gotten
any warnings. They know we’re toast. I’ll bet they’re taking care of their own, though. If it wasn’t for you …”

  Dr. Patel shot Max a quick glance. She didn’t correct Frank on his assumption that she, not Seth, had discovered the epidemic. Max had specifically requested confidentiality on that fact.

  Max didn’t even notice her looking at him, though. He was thinking about what she had been saying; a minimum of two and a half million Californians infected in six weeks, no stopping it, one hundred percent fatal, it was as if humanity had just driven over the top of a great big fucking IED. How could they possibly keep the virus outside the fence? How could they possibly survive?

  Even after hearing Dr. Patel’s words, there was still one part of him that wanted to believe everything would turn out all right; that some really smart guy sitting in a laboratory somewhere would figure out how to stop the disease, or, just like in the movies, at the last moment, on the brink of man’s annihilation, the virus would mutate and kill itself. But the cop in him was trained not to trust in hope. Hope is the sand others bury their heads in. Hope are the prayers chanted as some jihadist asshole with a knife turns you into a jack-o-lantern. Hope gets you nowhere but dead.

  He had to rethink this. The decisions he made now were every bit as critical in a life or death way as those he made in the Oakridge Mall a little over thirty days ago.

  “Okay, we got the picture. Now, what do we do about it?” Steve asked.

  Frank elbowed Max, bringing him back to the present. “I think that’s your queue, boss man. What’s the plan?”

  “The plan. Right. We’ve got some of it figured out; we just need to fill in the blanks. One thing left to be decided is what we’re going to do with those who may be infected. We can’t just throw them out the gate. So we need to find a place for them outside the main building, away from the healthy folks, until we know for sure if they have the virus instead of just a cold.”

  Everyone just kind of sat there, looking at each other until Will cleared his throat, put a grin on his face, and said, “Well, if you’re not above a little thievery, I have an idea. I’ve noticed a couple of construction trailers at the Cal Trans yard there on Bernal Road. They have hook-ups on them and we’ve got tow hitches on the sand truck and the SUVs. They’ve been there for months. Bet Cal Trans won’t even know they’re gone, if that even matters at this point. They’re already wired for electrical and plumbed. We can gut the insides, set up cots, one trailer for the women and one for the men. We could probably get six, eight people in each one of them.”

  “Jeeze, do you think we’ll have that many?” Jack asked.

  “And what do we do if someone is truly infected? I mean, we have to do something with ‘em. They can’t stay with the rest of us,” Phyllis said.

  “Regarding how many will become infected, I don’t know,” Dr. Patel said. “I think we have to assume that some of us will get sick, especially with people coming and going from the controlled environment of our little community here. As for what we do with the ones who are definitely infected, well, ideally they should be immediately separated from the others, and everything they’ve touched decontaminated. It’s possible that we can move them to a hospital. They’ll obviously be better cared for there. But if you play the scenario out, hospitals will be quickly overwhelmed, health care workers will fall victim, and extraordinary measures will have to be taken. We may be stuck with some very difficult choices.”

  “Extraordinary measures? What kind of extraordinary measures?” Jack asked.

  “Tents, maybe a warehouse somewhere, making them comfortable until they die, and then immediately burning the bodies.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “How many of those trailers did you see?” Max asked Will.

  He held up two fingers. “That’s it.”

  “Any other ideas?”

  “Sure. We have two of those large metal shipping containers out in the yard. One’s empty. I think it was used to store tools and equipment during construction. The other has some disaster supplies in it; no problem finding a place for that stuff. The floors, ceilings, walls are all metal, so easier to decontaminate. We may have to drill some drain holes in ‘em, though. I’ll have to check that out. We can drag ‘em down into the parking garage where they’ll be out of the sun, get ‘em up off the ground, fence ‘em off with the portable dog runs we have down there, top ‘em with razor wire, and outfit them with lights, cots, and heat. There’s even a storm drain built right into the garage floor we could wash any contaminated water into.”

  Jack shook his head in disbelief.

  “Sounds workable,” Frank said. “What I’m more worried about is how we’re going to decontaminate things.

  “I’ll do a little more research on that,” Dr. Patel said. “But the basic formula is one part bleach to one hundred parts of water for doing surface areas that may have become contaminated. When you’re disinfecting things such as protective clothing or areas that may have come in direct contact with a person known to have contracted the disease, then the formula is one part bleach to ten parts water. The commercial dishwasher in the kitchen should get hot enough to kill the virus on any dishes or silverware.”

  “I appreciate your confidence in my dishwasher, Doc,” Frank said, “but if it’s all the same, anyone with symptoms will get paper plates and plastic dinnerware. We’ll also build a burn pit or use metal drums like we did in Nam and burn everything they touch. I think the rest of the residents will feel a whole hell of a lot better knowing they aren’t eating off the same plates as those quarantined are using. I know I will.”

  Doc Patel pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, showing her agreement.

  “I’ll make a point to order more bleach, though,” Frank added.

  Midnight requisitioning of trailers, decontamination with bleach, paper and plastic, burn pits; it all seemed such a stretch to deal with something as deadly as this virus apparently is, Max thought. One mistake; missing a spot with the bleach, not recognizing someone who is infected, people could die, …lots of people, maybe all of us.

  “Frank, with the food you have on hand, how long will you be able to feed us?” Max asked.

  “Well, assuming our numbers don’t grow substantially, I probably have enough food for two months if I really birddog the portions. Why?”

  “You have any deliveries scheduled?”

  Frank nodded his head and gave Max a questioning look.

  Max paused, rubbed his forehead, and said, “Okay, listen everybody; during that first meeting, when we set up the council, I made it clear that I retained the right to make all security decisions, including who can stay here and who can’t. The Doc thinks this virus is most likely being intentionally spread. I agree. That makes it as much a security issue as a health issue, and therefore it’s my decision as to how to deal with it.

  Clearly, this isn’t something to dick-around with. We have to get out in front of it. We have to deal with it quickly and decisively. We can’t let the virus take root here. The way I see it, there’s only one option, and we have to do it right away, meaning like now. I’m going to lock the gates, nobody comes in; no part-timers, no new applicants. If someone wants to leave, fine, I won’t stop them, but they don’t come back until I say so; which could be weeks.”

  “What about those of us who are needed to help control this thing, get people to treatment? You’re going to lock us out, too?” Myra asked.

  That last question, coming from her, took him by surprise. “I’m sorry, babe, it can’t be helped,” Max said. “Look, I hope you and the doctor, everyone, decides to stay-put, but cops, paramedics, doctors, all come in contact with sick people on a daily basis.” He looked around the room. “Do you want one of them to bring this disease back to the families sheltered here?” His eyes settled on Myra. “Do you want to be the one who brought it here? Remember, so far it’s one hundred percent fatal. There’s nothing you’re going to do out there to stop it, anyway.”


  “These are hard decisions, but he’s right, you know,” Doctor Patel said. “It’s the best way to protect ourselves.”

  “So, let me get this straight; if someone leaves here to work, to try to help the ones who are getting sick or to keep the peace, in the case of the officers, they aren’t going to be allowed back in?” Myra said, staring hard at Max.

  “And what about those who are working right now; they went to work not knowing any of this? Are they just out of luck? Their families are here; you think they’re going to agree to this?” Phyllis asked.

  Max looked around the room and found everyone staring at him. He hadn’t expected this kind of reaction. Aren’t they hearing the same thing he is? Don’t they understand what’s going on? His first inclination was to offer the gate to anyone who didn’t agree with him, but he knew if he was going to accomplish the overall objective of ensuring everyone’s survival, he needed their cooperation.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll agree to. Tonight, when we’re not likely to encounter anyone who may be already infected, we’ll pick up those two trailers Will talked about. We probably won’t have them back here and set-up until after midnight. I’ll have Steve call everyone, sworn and non-sworn, who is on-duty now, tell them what’s going on, and give them until, say, 2 AM to get back here. After that, nobody comes in …period. If those working now choose to come back, they will be quarantined in the trailers for two weeks, no exceptions, and will be required to wear a facemask at all times. If they choose to remain on duty, well, like I said, they have until 2 AM. If this upsets their family, I’m sorry, but their family is welcome to leave the substation and join them outside the fence …but they aren’t coming back in until I say so.”

  Over the next few minutes, the discussion revolved around separating people into groups based on how long it had been since they were last outside the fence. They also reached agreement, based on Doc Patel’s recommendations, about how often each person in-residence would be examined for symptoms of the virus, who would do the exams, what would be done with those showing possible symptoms, and rules for the wearing of masks and gloves. There was also some discussion regarding the enforcement of the new rules and what would happen to anyone who violated them. They then adjourned in preparation for the meeting where the residents would be informed about what was going on.