H7N9 Penitence

by Mark Campbell

  Teddy frowned.

  “If you announced that you had a treatment to start with, perhaps you wouldn’t have to drag folks away at gunpoint,” Teddy told the man.

  The white-suit kept his eyes down as he finished wiping off the device’s lens.

  “Look at the camera,” the white-suit said, ignoring him.

  Teddy kept staring at the man even once the camera’s flash went off.

  “Unless… it’s all bullshit,” Teddy said, narrowing his eyes.

  The white-suit didn’t respond and waited as the wristband printed.

  “Hold out your hand,” the white-suit said.

  Teddy slowly extended his arm.

  “Where are they making the anti-virus at? Atlanta?” Teddy asked.

  The white-suit didn’t respond and didn’t look him in the eyes. He simply put the wristband on Teddy and reached for a swab.

  “Hell, is there even an Atlanta anymore or is Atlanta just another lawless, looted, hellhole full of the dead?”

  “Open your mouth,” the white-suit ordered, ignoring the question.

  Teddy did as he was told and gagged as the man ran the swab against the back of his throat.

  “If Atlanta is gone, then so is the CDC, right?” Teddy asked, voice raw. He rubbed his throat and stared at the man. “Who’s calling the shots now? I doubt Washington DC survived. Who is in charge?”

  The white-suit ignored him as he placed the swab in the specimen tube, sealed it, scanned the barcode, and then scanned Teddy’s wristband.

  “Look straight ahead and don’t move,” the white-suit said as he picked up the infrared thermometer.

  “Tell me,” Teddy insisted. “Do you lemmings even know who is giving the orders or are you acting on the militaristic whims of a dead man rotting away in the Oval Office?”

  The white-suit didn’t respond as he pointed the device at Teddy’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

  Teddy glared at the man through the visor, but the man didn’t make eye contact.

  After a few seconds of waiting, the white-suit lowered the thermometer and checked the readout on the small screen.

  “97.3. You’re clear,” the white-suit said as he looked down and started wiping off the lens again. “Proceed down the annex towards the next station. Do not remove your wristband.”

  “Your suit has CDC patches on it,” Teddy said as he pointed at the suit’s shoulder emblems. “I’m guessing that you’re some type of doctor or nurse. You guys take some type of oath, right? How can you treat people like this and still look at yourself in the mirror at night?”

  “I’m just doing my job,” the white-suit muttered as he kept looking down.

  “Move, civilian!” one of the National Guard soldiers standing behind the white-suit barked through his respirator.

  Teddy turned and started walking down the annex while shaking his head.

  “Next!” the white-suit shouted and waved over the next person in line.

  Teddy stuck his hands inside his pockets and looked around as he walked.

  Faded missing persons fliers were taped on one section of wall where advertisement billboards once hung. Dead flowers and melted candles covered the floor underneath the fliers.

  As he stared at the makeshift memorial, he wondered how many of the people in the photographs were now nameless corpses buried in a shallow grave or still rotting away in their homes.

  If he was still stuck inside that prison, would there be any memorial for him? Would anybody care enough to hang a picture of him?

  The only ones who cared were Jane and Danny, and he had no clue if they were okay.

  He had to find them.

  Teddy quickly looked away from the fliers and kept walking.

  He glanced down at the band wrapped around his right wrist.

  It had his picture on it along with a barcode and the numbers ‘6140’.

  He was back to square one: his life had once again been reduced to a number and a mugshot, he thought with a sneer.

  He reached the end of the annex and saw a set of double-doors that used to be a fire exit.

  The red lettering on the doors had been scraped away and the fire exit alarm had long been dismantled.

  A paper sign on the doors read: ‘WAIT FOR ESCORT AND SCREENING BEFORE PROCEEDING TO HOLDING’

  Two FEMA police officers stood next to the doors talking but fell silent as Teddy approached.

  “Wait outside,” one of the FEMA officers said. “Someone will be up shortly.”

  “Checkpoint Zebra-Four to Control, we have one headed out for processing. Standing by, over,” the other FEMA officer said into his mic.

  “Control copies,” a woman responded over the radio. “Transport has been notified and is headed to you, Zebra-Four, over.”

  Teddy pressed the push bar, swung the doors open, and was blinded by bright halogen flood lamps.

  The generator-powered flood lamps illuminated the entire rear parking lot and surrounded the perimeter along with National Guard soldiers who were keeping watch.

  Chain-link holding pins crammed with men, women, and children filled the entire lot and created a maze of pathways. Each pin was numbered and had their gates were padlocked shut. The pins had thin foam mattresses strewn inside along with cheap thermal blankets. Each pin had a portable toilet inside and looked like they were disrepair from overuse.

  FEMA officers decked in full riot gear patrolled the pathways between the cages and held long fiberglass batons. They ignored the any questions, being shouted at them from inside the cages.

  Trash was scattered across the ground and blue plastic tarps were strung over the top of the cages to poorly shield the encampment from the elements.

  At the far end of the parking lot, the perimeter fences opened up to a heavily-policed and fortified passenger train station. An Amtrak train full of passenger cars sat idling on the tracks. Three makeshift gun towers with machinegun nests on top of them were positioned in front of the station and an array of searchlights lined the bottom of the towers and scanned over the cages inside the encampment.

  A banner flapped in the wind strung between two light poles that read ‘NON-SYMPTOMATIC HOLDING AREA’.

  Teddy felt his stomach sour as he stared out at the cages and was unable to find the only two faces that mattered to him.

  Given the size of the crowd, he knew it would be impossible.

  He had to turn around and go back somehow.

  As soon as Teddy around, the two FEMA officers stepped through.

  “Whoa there, chief,” one of them said as he held up his hand and placed it against Teddy’s chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I have to go back to the front,” Teddy explained. “I forgot something.”

  The FEMA officers looked at each other and started laughing.

  Teddy frowned, brushed the man’s hand away, and attempted to walk between them.

  One of the FEMA officers forcefully shoved Teddy with his rifle.

  Teddy stumbled backwards and fell down hard on his back.

  “Your ass isn’t going anywhere except where the computer says you’re going to go to!” the FEMA officer shouted mockingly. He stepped back and aimed his rifle at Teddy while motioning for the other officer to step forward. “Fuck waiting for transport. Scan him.”

  Teddy sat up, spat on the ground, and stared up at the rifle barrel.

  The other FEMA officer reached down, grabbed his right arm, and scanned the wristband’s barcode with a handheld scanner while his partner kept the weapon pointed at Teddy.

  The FEMA officer let go of Teddy’s arm and stared at the scanner’s small display screen.

  “He’s designated to go to cage twenty-four,” the FEMA officer announced. “I’ll take him over there.”

  Teddy was quickly brought to his feet as the FEMA officer snatched him by the back of his collar and yanked him up.

  The FEMA officer drew his pistol out of his holster and pressed the barrel against Te
ddy’s back.

  “Take it easy!” Teddy muttered. “I’m not resisting and I don’t want trouble! I just need to go find someone! I need to go make sure she didn’t turn around and go back to the front.”

  “You need to shut up and come with me,” the FEMA officer said as he started leading Teddy towards the maze of cages by his collar. He kept the pistol barrel pressed against his back.

  Teddy stumbled forward and arched his back as the barrel painfully dug between his shoulder blades. He held his hands up at his shoulders with his palms open.

  “Look, I’m not fighting you, okay? I need to know if you heard anything about a woman coming out of processing. Her name is Jane. She was traveling with a young boy named Danny,” Teddy said as he walked. “They went in the same time as me.” He paused. “It’s really important that we end up together, okay?”

  The FEMA officer didn’t answer.

  “Could you check that little computer thing you have? The scanner?” Teddy suggested

  He didn’t reply.

  Teddy sighed.

  “If you don’t know, then who would?” Teddy asked. “The other cops at the other side would know, right? Who are they? Who is in charge of the women and children processing side?”

  No response.

  Teddy was led past row after row of dismal cagefuls of men, women, and children.

  Despite there being no roof over the pins, the smell of urine and feces coming from the overflowing portable toilet stalls was overpowering.

  Tired eyes stared through the chain-link at Teddy as he passed.

  Another armored police officer carrying a baton approached Teddy from the front. He had ‘DHS ICE’ stenciled across the front of his vest.

  “You from Checkpoint Zebra-Four?” the ICE officer asked.

  “Yeah. I have the new arrival here. I already scanned him. He’s assigned to cage twenty-four.”

  “You didn’t have to bring him. I was on my way.”

  “You took too long,” the FEMA officer said as he shoved Teddy towards the man. “This guy was being a pain in the ass.”

  The ICE officer grabbed Teddy by the back of his shirt and kept his baton ready.

  “Sorry,” the ICE officer said with a shrug. “We’re short staffed in transport. They keep sending our people out on the trains but don’t send us any manpower back. I guess the camps aren’t thinking about anything besides their own security needs.”

  “What else is new?” the FEMA officer asked, chuckling. “I’m going back to my post.”

  He turned, holstered his pistol, and walked away.

  “Come on,” the ICE officer told Teddy as he turned him around and started leading him down one of the pathways. “Twenty-four isn’t far from here.”

  “I need to find a woman and boy,” Teddy told the officer as they walked. “They came in the same time as me.”

  “What did they look like?” the ICE officer asked.

  “The woman, Jane, is a brunette, tall, and slim. The boy, Danny, has brown hair and is five years old. Did you see them?”

  “Doesn’t ring a bell,” the ICE officer said. “I haven’t seen any kids come out for about two hours. Were they sick?”

  “No, they weren’t.”

  “Then they could still be getting processed.”

  They stopped at a narrow chain-link enclosure with a metal sign engraved with ‘24’ hanging askew on the door. A large padlock dangled secured the hinge and the welds on the frames were reinforced with pieces of riveted metal.

  “Could you please check for me?” Teddy asked. “I want us to end up in the same place at least.”

  “Face the cage and don’t move,” the ICE officer said as he let go of Teddy’s shirt.

  Teddy turned towards the cage and looked inside.

  Mattresses that looked even thinner than the ones he had inside USP Tucson were lying inside the enclosure along with crumpled thermal blankets that appeared to be made out of thin foil. Empty water bottles and MRE containers were piled in one corner while a portable toilet stall covered in flies sat in the other. A pungent blue liquid dripped out of the portable stall and created a stagnant puddle on the asphalt.

  An Asian man wearing a disheveled suit and crooked glasses sat slouched on top of one of the mattresses with the foil blanket wrapped over his shoulders. He rocked back-and-forth: tears silently poured down his sallow cheeks.

  A tall man in his thirties stood in the corner and stared outside. He wore dirty jeans, a leather biker’s vest, and scuffed boots. He had long blonde hair, a thick bushy beard, and wild eyes. Tattoos covered his arms and his neck.

  An elderly white couple, both still in their soiled pajamas, sat together on one of the mats. The man had his sunburnt arm wrapped around the frail woman’s shoulders. Their eyes were cloudy and they held each other with their gaze fixated on the ground.

  Near the front of the enclosure, a middle-aged woman with red hair was laying with her back turned towards the door. She had herself wrapped tightly in the foil blanket and didn’t move.

  Nobody even bothered acknowledging Teddy.

  The ICE officer unlocked the padlock and held open the door.

  “Step inside,” he said as he pointed the way with his baton.

  Teddy turned and slowly walked through the doorway.

  “Can you check?” Teddy asked.

  The ICE officer closed the door and relocked the latch.

  “Please, just check for me,” Teddy begged as he put his fingers through the chain-link and held onto to it.

  The ICE officer took his baton and slammed it against the chain-link, barely missing Teddy’s fingers.

  Teddy startled and quickly pulled his hands away.

  “Don’t touch the fence!” the ICE officer ordered. He keyed his mic. “Transport Five to Control, completed escort to twenty-four. We’re secure, over.”

  “Control copies. Return to Checkpoint Zebra-Four and pick up another new arrival, copy?”

  “Transport Five copies,” the ICE officer replied back into the mic.

  Teddy watched as the ICE officer put his baton back in his belt loop and walked away.

  He sighed, shook his head, and sat down on one of the thin foam mats.

  The man who was wearing the leather biker’s vest chuckled as he stood behind Teddy.

  “Did you really think that asshole would help you?” the biker asked.

  Teddy stared ahead in silence.

  The woman who was lying on the mat next to Teddy took her foil blanket off and rolled over to look at him.

  “Who are you looking for?” the woman asked.

  Teddy glanced over at her.

  The woman’s red hair was disheveled and had pieces of leaves stuck in its tangled mess. Her face was pale and her lips were badly chapped. Tears had turned her green eyes bloodshot and her nose was encrusted with snot.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Teddy said as he went back to staring ahead. “You can’t help me.”

  “Since I just came from that side a few minutes ago, I’m probably better help than some random cop.”

  Teddy looked over at her with interest.

  The woman narrowed her eyes and studied Teddy’s face.

  “Wait a minute… I know you,” she said. “You were at the parking garage, weren’t you?”

  Teddy nodded.

  “You were too, I take it?” he asked.

  “Yeah. My name is Gina. I was on security detail when you came in with that little boy and the woman.” She paused and studied him, frowning. “Is that who you’re looking for? The woman and the boy?”

  “Yes,” Teddy said eagerly as he sat up. “Did you see them?”

  “I did… They were with my group,” Gina replied solemnly. “The boy had a fever… They, um, didn’t like that too much…”

  Teddy’s expression immediately turned from hopeful to one full of dread.

  “Yeah, but it’s just allergies!” he explained with wild eyes. “The doc at the garage even confirmed it wi
th one of those tests!”

  “She tried saying something like that, but they didn’t want to hear it,” Gina continued. “She put up a fight… The people in those spacesuits took both of them away to the symptomatic ward.” She paused. “I’m sorry.”

  Gina turned back around and wrapped herself back in the foil blanket.

  Teddy sat and stared ahead, dumbfounded.

  His body felt heavy and numb.

  He tried to stand up, but his knees didn’t respond.

  Instead of standing, he fell backwards onto the mat.

  Teddy stared vacantly up at the night sky with his arms spread out at his side.

  CHAPTER 27

  Thirty minutes passed, and then an hour.

  Teddy didn’t move and kept his eyes on the starry sky.

  Thoughts of Jane and Danny plagued his mind.

  He had failed them.

  The worst part was that he didn’t know what to do or how to get close to them.

  “Here they come to take someone else away,” the biker said as he sat slumped behind Teddy. “I hope it isn’t me.”

  Teddy sat up and looked.

  Two FEMA officers carrying assault rifles and wearing respirators approached the cage in front of Teddy’s along with a blue-suit who was carrying a handheld scanner.

  “He’s in here,” the blue-suit said as he studied the scanner’s small computer screen. “Holding area thirty-one.”

  One of the FEMA officers unlocked the padlock and swung the door open.

  A portly Hispanic man wearing a checkered shirt, a teenage girl with curly blonde hair, and two African-American men wearing t-shirts and jeans sat inside the cage and watched the officers fearfully.

  “4189, step forward,” the blue-suit announced through his suit’s speaker. “Your test results have returned and unfortunately we have to move you to the other ward. Please come with us.”

  Nobody inside the cage moved.

  The FEMA officers quickly pointed their weapons at the group.

  The people inside gasped and shuffled back towards the rear of the cage.

  “4189, I’m giving you an order,” the blue-suit said. “Step forward and present your wristband for inspection.”

  One of the African-American men stifled a cough in the crook of his arm.

  The blue-suit quickly pointed at the coughing man.