Sympatico Syndrome (Book 1): Infection (A Pandemic Survival Novel)

by McDonald, M. P.

  “Hello?” Hunter strode into the farm yard like he had nothing to hide. “Anybody home?”

  With no answer, he decided to go right up to the door. “Hey, anyone here?” He trotted up the steps and knocked on the door. The dog went nuts inside, and he heard toenails clicking against the floor. He waited then tried the doorbell. He heard it ring so he waited again. “Hello?”

  It went against everything ingrained in him his whole life to enter a strange home uninvited, but he reached for the doorknob anyway to test it with a quick turn, not expecting anything so when it turned in his hand, he jumped away from the door in surprise. His heart raced.

  Taking a deep breath, and one hand turning the knob, the other knocking on the door again, he entered the house. The stench of death assaulted him along with the dog he’d heard. Only the dog assaulted him with happy yips and licks, not at all fazed that he was a stranger. He gagged on the stench. Where was it coming from? He eyed the dog, a black lab, looking for signs of blood around his mouth, praying the pet hadn’t feasted on its dead master.

  “Hey there, buddy. It’s okay.” The dog was so happy to see him, it circled Hunter’s legs like he was a long lost friend. Hunter scratched behind the dog’s ears, looking around to see if the source of the stench was lying nearby. He or she wasn’t.

  “Come on, buddy. Let’s find your master.” Hunter glanced into the living room, taking in the scattering of dirty glasses and empty beer cans. It looked like a party had taken place. A dining room opened off the side of the living room, and that was empty and neatly kept. The party had not made it into that room, apparently. Hunter moved through it to the kitchen. Two bare feet, dead white on the bottom as they faced the ceiling, were attached to an older woman. He guessed her age at around sixty. She lay face down, a puddle of dried blood near her mouth. The stench penetrated the mask, making him gag as he back-pedaled. The dog whimpered and wouldn’t go near her.

  “Smart dog.” He stroked the dog’s head, finding the action as comforting for him as it was for the animal.

  Hunter had never been this close to a dead body except for at his mother’s wake, and he’d been so young then, he hadn’t really understood what death meant. He’d just wanted his mom to open her eyes and smile at him. That was his clearest memory of seeing his mom in the casket. This woman hadn’t been washed and made to look like she was merely taking a nap. With her wide, unseeing eyes, and contorted, blood-stained mouth, she looked anything but asleep.

  On one level, he felt sorrow that she had died, but he hadn’t known her so there was no grief. On another level, he was repulsed by the sight and the smell. He turned away, bending over and gagging until he was afraid he’d puke. He couldn’t do that because that would mean removing his mask. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on willing his stomach to settle.

  After a moment, he opened his eyes and glanced at the dog who whined at a door to Hunter’s left. Afraid of what he might find, but having to know, he reached for the doorknob.

  Cringing as he pulled the door open, he blinked in surprise. Instead of another dead body, he’d found the pantry. On the floor was a large bag of dry dog food. So that’s why the dog was whining. Poor guy probably hadn’t eaten in a few days.

  Canned goods lined a shelf. Beans, peas, soups and several other items. He cast a glance over his shoulder. It wasn’t as if the woman was going to need this food, but what if someone else who lived here needed it? Only, where were they and why hadn’t they at least removed the body in the kitchen? Hunter shook off his hesitation. The food was fair game and better to take it than let it waste here. He snatched a few of the paper bags with handles that were hanging on a hook inside the door. Not picky, he took as much as he could carry and hauled it outside, setting the bags on the grass.

  Hunter grinned. He’d feast tonight. But first, he had to find a way to clean the cans. He wasn’t worried about the contents, but what if the woman had touched some of them before she’d died?

  Returning to the pantry, he found a bag of rice and another of lentils and a few pouches of tuna fish. It wasn’t his favorite food, but he’d eat it if he was hungry enough. Right now, it sounded delicious. The sugar and flour were opened, so he left them alone. It was the same with a package of crackers and boxes of cereal. He even wondered if the dog food was safe, but he hadn’t heard anything about dogs being susceptible. Rolling the top of the bag down so it wouldn’t spill, he lifted it in one arm, and took the bag with the rice, tuna, and lentils in the other hand.

  He dumped the bags on the grass beside his first pile and lifted the mask, drawing in deep breaths through his nose to erase the putrid odor that seemed permanently lodged in his nasal passages.

  The dog had slipped out behind him, and Hunter chuckled when the poor pup raced over to the nearest tree and lifted his leg. Had he been holding it for days? Hunter called the dog over when the animal was done with the tree and squatted down, looking into the trusting eyes. Hunter smiled but backed away when the dog tried to lick him. “Easy, fella.”

  He wasn’t normally opposed to a dog licking him but worried the black lab might have been nosing the dead woman. Dogs might not get sick from this virus, but what if they could carry it? Why hadn’t he paid more attention to his dad’s comments around his work? Maybe then he’d know what the chances were that the dog could contaminate him.

  Hunter straightened and surveyed his haul of supplies. Food wasn’t going to be an issue for a while. With any luck, this would take him all the way to the island.

  He looked at the house, his relief at finding the food tempered by the reality of how he’d acquired the items. What he felt wasn’t guilt, exactly, but close to it. It was crazy to think that only a few weeks ago, the lady lying dead in there was going about her life, buying these groceries, probably chatting with the cashier as she completed her purchase, and then putting the items in her pantry. She probably never thought she’d be dead before she had a chance to eat the food. It was a lot to wrap his mind around.

  Had the epidemic already begun when she bought them or were these just staples? It seemed like an awful lot of food for one person, and he had a feeling she wasn’t the only body he’d find on the property.

  * * *

  Hunter shoved more gloves into his front pockets and an extra mask into his back pocket. It was time to check the car and the other buildings. He’d had to toss the other mask, not sure if it was contaminated or not. He already worried he’d somehow contracted the illness just from being in the same home. After gathering the food, he’d made another run through the house for any other useful items and found a bottle of bleach and rolls of paper towels. With them, he’d made some wipes and cleaned everything he’d taken.

  In his sweep of the house, he hadn’t found a set of car keys. It was possible whoever else lived here had them or maybe he had missed them. The car was unlocked, which was a relief, and before he did anything else, he wiped every surface he could reach with the wipes. It wasn’t a late model car but wasn’t a junker either. He sat behind the wheel, checked the visor and the glove box for a set of keys. Nothing. He got out and ducked under the wheel to check beneath the seats. Shit. Empty except for a few crumpled receipts and a scattering of loose change. Well, he didn’t need a car anyway. He just needed gas. And a container for it.

  “Come on, Buddy,” Hunter called to the dog and smiled when the dog responded to his new name. It seemed he’d decided that since Hunter had fed him, they were best buddies now. It made the name a natural fit for the dog.

  When he approached a small shed, Buddy stopped and whined. His tail tucked between his legs and he refused to go any closer to it.

  “What’s the matter?” Hunter eyed the shed. Nothing about it looked scary, but before approaching any closer, he circled around the back, found a window and peeked into the building. Flies dotted the inside of the window, and Hunter tapped it, scattering them long enough to see inside.

  He’d found the farmer.

  “Ugh…
” He pulled away from the window, gagging. The body looked to be in advanced stages of decomposition compared to the woman in the house. The man must have died a day or so before, and the heat in the small shed had sped along the rate of decay.

  Despite the glimpse of tools hanging on the walls of the shed, he decided any he needed would have to come from some other place. Hunter pulled out one of his homemade wipes and used them on his hands where he’d touched the window although he knew logically the chance of the outside of the pane being contaminated was low.

  Shuddering, he imagined he could feel the virus crawling up his arms. Scrubbing the wipe across his skin then using it to wipe the bottom of his shoes. Throwing the dirty wipe aside, he gave the toolshed a wide berth as he crossed to the barn.

  The cows were still making a lot of noise and Hunter wasn’t sure what to do for them. They weren’t in the big red barn he’d been watching, but another building next to it, hidden from his view when he’d been at the creek. He was sure they needed milking but other than a few times he’d milked a couple of squirts from one at a county fair demonstration, he wasn’t going to be able to help them. Even if he knew how to run whatever milking equipment the farm had, he couldn’t stay here and milk them indefinitely.

  About all he could think to do was to make sure they could get out of the barn. There was lots of grass and a creek nearby. A few might live. He slid open the barn door, wrinkling his nose at the smell, but here, it was just barn smells. Not pleasant, but expected. The cows set up an even louder racket when the door opened. There were no conventional stalls, but a center section covered in straw and where some cows were standing and others lying. More cows wandered freely in the aisle that was almost like a track around the center.

  Hunter thought about trying to milk one, but what would he do with the milk? He didn’t have a way to keep it cool and no way could he milk this many animals. He took a quick look around for anything useful and spotted a bucket hanging on a hook beside the door. He grabbed it.

  He went to the chicken coop and left that door open too, knowing most of the chickens would end up as a meal for some coyote, but he couldn’t leave them to die slowly of thirst or starvation. Digging in the straw, he found nine eggs and wrapped them in a rag he found in the coop. He set the bundle carefully into the bucket and found a bag of sawdust, using it to protect and insulate the eggs. He had two more buildings to check.

  One was locked, and he couldn’t get in. The other was a small pole barn. The pasture he’d seen ended on one side of the barn. He opened the door and was greeted with a loud whinny and stamping of feet from the two horses in stalls. The barn reeked of manure and urine, but he ignored the odor as a glimmer of an idea took root.

  Horses could take him home. It might be safer too since he could cross remote land and stay away from people and highways. The horse in the stall closes to him pressed against the door, his head bobbing and his nostrils flaring. Hunter held out his hand. “Hey there. Whoa, shhh…it’s okay.” He stroked the silky muzzle. Peering in, he noted the bone dry bucket. “Thirsty, aren’t ya? I’ll get you a drink. Just give me a sec to find the hose.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Elly shook out the last M&M and looked at it. Green. In high school, green M&Ms had some meaning, but she couldn’t recall what it was. Maybe they were lucky. She popped it in her mouth and sucked, making it last as long as possible. She had only a few chocolate mint pieces and a bag of potato chips left from what she’d scavenged. She wasn’t too hungry yet, but water was going to be an issue in the next day or so. She had enough left in the tub to fill the eight bottles she had about three times. That was about two more days’ worth of water after today. By then, she’d be completely out of food and getting really hungry. Did she dare wait until she was desperate? Or would it be better to venture out now while she still had plenty of energy? What if she didn’t find food right away?

  When the world had realized what was happening four days ago, the news had reported on the run on grocery stores and showed footage of bare shelves and people fighting over a box of crackers. But surely there had to be plenty of food in a city this big. She might have to risk getting close to contaminated bodies to get it, though.

  Last night, the power had gone out and had never come back on. The taps had run dry when the power had cut off. As she looked out at the city in the early dawn hours, there were only a few patches of light— even the roads were mostly dark. Normal power outages would have light from vehicles illuminating the roads, but she saw only a few cars picking their way through the crashed and stalled cars in the streets below.

  She still had a charge on her cellphone and had dial-tone when she turned it on. There was only one person she knew. She found Cole’s number and took a deep breath. Was he still alive? She pressed the call icon on the screen and said a prayer.

  He answered on the second ring, and she closed her eyes, blinking back tears of relief.

  “Elly?”

  “Cole…you’re still alive.”

  “Yeah. So far.” There was a pause, and Elly swiped at the tears pouring down her face. She hadn’t realized how worried she was that everyone she knew was dead until she heard his voice over the line. At least one friend was still alive.

  Elly drew in a shaky breath. “Where are you?”

  “We made it to an island my uncle left me in his will. We’re out about a mile or so in Green Bay, just east of Oconto. Where are you?”

  She hated the tremor in her voice, but couldn’t stifle it. “I’m still in my hotel room. The power went out last night, and I don’t think there are many people still alive here. They stopped removing bodies from the street two days ago, and I haven’t seen a car moving all morning.”

  “Shit. I knew it was bad, but I’ve been so busy we haven’t had much time to listen to the news. Last time I tried, all I got was static, but I didn’t know if it was because we’re too far away from a station or what. We don’t have television or internet out here.”

  “There was nothing on TV yesterday. The stations were off the air. I’ve never seen that before, Cole. And now, I couldn’t watch it even if there was anything on, without electricity.” She fanned her face with the hotel’s room service menu. It was getting hot.

  “Do you have food and water?” The concern in his voice was almost her undoing.

  She shook her head, forgetting he couldn’t see her. “Not really. I have a couple of pieces of chocolate, a few chips, and half a tub of water. I found food in some other rooms on my floor, but there was a crazy lady in one room. I’m pretty sure she was infected. I was too scared to go out again. I have my door bolted and a chair wedged under the handle.”

  “Elly, you have to get here. I could come and get you. I have a car.”

  “No, you’re safe. You need to stay there with your family. Hunter needs you.”

  There came an odd sound over the phone, almost like a grunt or sob. “He’s not here yet. I…I don’t know where he is. His car ran out of gas, and now he’s not answering his phone.”

  “Oh, Cole…”

  “But he was healthy. I think he’s alive still—in fact, I’m sure of it. I’d feel it if he was dead. He’s just unable to get here. He was camped out and said he caught some fish in a stream, so at least he had some gear.”

  Taking her cue from the forced positivity she heard, she agreed. “He’s smart. He’ll make it to you.”

  “You will too. Do you have a car?”

  “No, and even if I did, the streets that I can see are full of stalled or abandoned vehicles. I don’t think I could get through. The sidewalks are full of bodies. It’s a nightmare out there. Literally.”

  “What about a bike? There has to be a bike lying around. It would be quite a ride, but you could do it. I guess it’d be a few hundred miles, though, but maybe the roads won’t be so bad once you get out of the city.”

  “That’s an idea. I could try and find one.” A sliver of hope crept into her voice. “How do I get
to the island? And are you sure you want me there?”

  “Elly, you know you’re always welcome. Especially now.” He gave her directions, and she jotted them on the back of the menu. “If power is going out, I expect the phones are going to die soon. I haven’t been able to pull up the Internet in over a couple of days now, but I barely have a signal at all. Just get here as fast as you can. We have food, there are several cabins, and we’re isolated.”

  “I’ll need to find some supplies somewhere along the way.”

  “Do you still have a way to protect yourself from the virus?”

  She looked at her box of gloves and the other one of masks. “Yeah. At least I have that going for me.” It was going to be hell riding a bike with one of the masks on but with luck, out in the country she could take it off. She turned to the window, pressing her cheek against it to look north towards safety. Towards Cole.

  There was a lot of city to get through first.

  “Also, Elly, try to find a gun. We’ve already had some problems, and that was three days ago. It could be a lot worse now.”

  Elly gave a short laugh. “Well, I am in Chicago. Finding a gun shouldn’t be an issue.”

  * * *

  “Get out of my way, Sean. I’m going to find my son.” Cole stood on the pier, toe-to-toe with his brother. His goal was the small fishing boat Joe had found in the shed. He glared, his fists balled at his sides. He hadn’t hit Sean since he was thirteen and they fought over something stupid when they were teens, but now, he had a good reason. The best reason. “Let me get to the damn boat!”

  Sean pressed a hand against Cole’s chest, balling up his shirt and not letting him pass. “You can’t leave, Cole. You don’t even know where Hunter is. Seriously, what are the chances you’ll find him just wandering around? Elly told you the power was out there, too. Even if you could find him, what about the disease? What good are you going to do Hunter if you catch it and die? Your friend Elly said there were bodies all over Chicago. Don’t you think that the situation is like that everywhere by now?”