Even though the afternoon sun was still bright outside, Michael reached over and turned on the lamp by the door to shed some light into the shadow-filled living room. As his eyes adjusted from the bright afternoon sun to the dimly lit interior, he tossed his backpack on the nearby recliner.
Just then, the phone rang. Quickly crossing the room, which had a very uneven floor (making you feel like you had been drinking), Michael picked up the phone on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Michael,” a female voice said on the other end.
He recognized the voice immediately. His heart always skipped a beat when he heard her voice, although he would never admit it. “Hi, Lorie.” All his previous thoughts of Monica instantly vanished from his brain.
Lorie was about the most beautiful girl he had ever met. Although she was from his hometown of Cincinnati, they had gone to different high schools and had never run into one another until they came to the university. And then, the only reason they had met was because she had responded to a post on the university’s intranet website about sharing travel back and forth from home.
Lorie’s parents lived in one of the wealthier sections in the suburbs outside of Cincinnati. Her father was some high-up, important executive in a Fortune 500 company. She had been given a brand-new luxury car for her high school graduation present, but since she was a young, attractive girl, Lorie’s parents didn’t want her to drive the long distance from home to school alone. They were justifiably protective of their little girl.
At that time, she was a young freshman, and Michael had been in his second year of school. Michael was driving an old, hand-me-down, compact car. It was the only car he could afford at the time. Free. It even came with air-conditioning, which was a rusted hole in the door. But it ran well and got him from point A to point B with minimal maintenance.
When Lorie answered his ad about sharing a ride, he didn’t know her at all. The only “Lorie” he had known was a Lori Arquette in high school, and she had not been a nice person. In fact, the Lori he had known had picked on him throughout high school. He had grown to despise her, and just hearing her name made him shudder in both disgust and anger. If any girl deserved to be punched, it was Lori Arquette. But although he had been a scrawny teenager in high school, he would never have lowered himself to the level of actually hitting a girl, even if she deserved it as much as Lori did. But those were different times, and it was another life.
As he emailed Lorie back and forth about arranging their ride home to Cincinnati, he had unfairly formed a preconceived picture in his mind of a large, mean-looking girl with greasy, unkempt hair and pimples all over her face. Not that he was judging her. He was simply associating a name with a face he had previously known. On the other hand, from Lorie and Michael’s brief correspondence on the intranet, this Lorie seemed like a really nice girl.
When he actually met Lorie, he was immediately stunned at the sight of her. His jaw dropped open, and he had to consciously close his mouth before she thought he was some drooling idiot. His first thought was that Brian and Scott were playing a trick on him. Lorie turned out to be a petite, shapely girl with long, blond hair. Michael was most fascinated by her eyes. She had the most intriguing hazel eyes that he had ever seen. They were almost magical. He felt as if he would be lost if he looked into them too deeply. Michael was sure that Brian or Scott had set him up. But neither of his friends had suddenly jumped out from a hiding place laughing at him.
As Michael got to know Lorie during the many times they traveled together, he realized that not only was she extremely attractive on the outside, but she was also a deeply caring, fascinating, and funny person on the inside. Intelligent and quick to laugh, they thoroughly enjoyed one another’s company. Their friendship grew over the next few years.
Michael mostly hung out with Brian and Scott. They were like the “Three Musketeers” together. But sometimes, Lorie would come with them when her girlfriends were preoccupied with social parties, boyfriends, or studying for exams. On these occasions, the “Three Musketeers” became four.
“What are you planning tonight?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“I have a therapeutics exam on Monday that I’m going to have to start studying for…”
“Studying on a Friday night for an exam on Monday? Seriously?” she said, half-joking.
“You know that I hate procrastinating and trying to jam all that information into my brain at the last minute.”
“I’m sure you’d do just as well whether you studied or not,” she replied. “You ace every test anyway! Changing subjects, do you know a Theodore Decker?”
“No.”
“He’s the same year as you.”
“The name still doesn’t ring a bell,” he said honestly.
“Well, he asked me out tonight. He’s a Phi Delta,” she said with some hesitant excitement in her voice. “He seems really nice, but I wanted to see if you knew anything about him.”
Great, Michael groaned, a Phi Delta football jock. All the football players joined the Phi Delta fraternity, and they wouldn’t take anyone who wasn’t in one of those “manly” sports. Wrestlers, boxers, and the like were admitted, but if your particular sport was tennis, swimming, or badminton, then you might as well forget looking for an invite. Trying to fake enthusiasm for her, Michael replied, “Don’t know him. But if you think he’s okay, then I hope you have a good time…”
The rest of the conversation with Lorie was small talk about classes and friends they had in common. Michael tried to sound upbeat, but he had seen her go through this before. Some guy would charm her into going out, acting nice and gentlemanly, when all he was really after was the conquest. When he didn’t get what he wanted after a few dates, the charade would drop, and he would show his true colors. When guys looked at Lorie, they could only see a trophy girl. They never took the effort or time to see the depth of her personality and the inner beauty that Michael saw. And she usually ended up having her feelings hurt. Then she would turn to Michael, who was always there to comfort her.
Lorie seemed to go after the wrong kind of guy—the type of guy who was into himself, conceited, good-looking, and usually well built. Michael knew there was a reason why most gyms had mirrors around the place—so these guys could admire themselves, like Narcissus falling in love with the reflection of himself in the water. And they always wanted the prized girlfriend by their side so they could show off. Lorie was better than just a mere trophy.
Unfortunately, those guys seemed to have something that Michael was lacking: charisma. Michael couldn’t just walk up to some attractive girl he was interested in and start up a natural, charming conversation. It felt very awkward. He learned after a few failures that the best approach for him was not to try. He would simply wait for someone who was interested in him to come up and initiate a conversation. And he would wait, and wait, and wait…sometimes for a very long time.
Occasionally, he would be approached by someone whom he might be interested in, and things would progress from there. But other times his strategy would backfire—like the time he and his friends went to Daytona Beach for spring break. A large, heavily tattooed biker babe had come up to Michael and pulled him up onto the dance floor. She then flung him around like a rag doll while his friends watched and laughed. They had not let him forget that night for a long time afterward.
He had barely hung up the phone with Lorie when it started ringing again. Perplexed, Michael picked it back up, thinking that Lorie had forgotten to tell him something.
“Hello?”
“Michael?”
“Yes.”
“Hey, Michael! It’s Wilbur.”
Wilbur Frobbs was the pharmacist manager where Michael was currently working part time. He was a short, chubby man, but he had a huge heart. He really loved his work and had compassion and empathy for all of his customers. He was the type of person who would go out of his way to help someone. “Oh, Wilbur, I didn’t expect yo
u to call. I don’t think I’m scheduled to work until Monday. Did someone call in sick?”
“No, no one called in sick, but I need to ask a favor. Have you seen the news today?”
Confused, Michael told him that he had just gotten back from his class.
“Well, apparently the flu has come early this year. It has hit Asia already. And according to the news, it’s one nasty virus. They’ve had more than the usual number of deaths. Of course, the flu kills people every year, especially the very young and the very old. But you know the media…they are really playing this up, probably for the ratings, and they’re recommending that everyone get the flu vaccine. We’ve already been swamped today, and I think this weekend will be crazy.”
Wilbur took a breath and then continued. “I’m having a hard time filling customer prescriptions and giving flu shots. Right now, I have a line of people waiting that stretches back almost the entire length of the store.” Wilbur sounded more than a little stressed and frustrated. Michael sympathized with him. “Is there any way you could come in and fill the incoming prescriptions while I give the flu vaccinations? Of course, I’d have to check your work before we let the patients have the prescriptions, but it would be so much help to me…”
Michael paused. He needed to study, but he also felt bad for Wilbur. Wilbur had always been good to him, and he had worked around his school schedule. “I have a test I need to study for. I think I can help out today, but I really don’t think I’d be able to come in this weekend.”
Wilbur sounded relieved. “That would be great. Don’t worry about the weekend. I’ve already got some other students lined up to come in. If you could help out today in this crunch, that would be perfect!”
“Okay, Wilbur. Let me get changed, and I’ll come in as soon as I can.”
“That’s awesome,” Wilbur said. Michael could sense Wilbur relaxing a little. “Hey, did you get your truck back from the shop yet?”
“Wow, I almost forgot. It was supposed to be finished today, but I haven’t had a chance to check the messages since I got back. I’ll call them and see you as soon as I can get there.”
They exchanged farewells, and Michael picked up the phone once again to call the auto shop. The phone rang for a while, but Michael waited patiently. Being less than a year old, his truck didn’t need any major work. He was taking advantage of his regularly scheduled oil change to do some accessory work. In addition to new oil, his truck was getting a front bumper guard, a locked truck-bed cover, and a nice-looking, aerodynamic roof rack system. He was also getting larger all-season tires put on just before the winter snowfall. It was his first brand-new car (without a hole in the door for air-conditioning), and he wanted to treat it right.
At the garage Gary finally picked up the line, and Michael explained why he wouldn’t be able to pick up the truck today. Gary, sole owner and worker at the garage, said he understood, and it wouldn’t be any problem. He was going out of town for the weekend, and he’d just lock the truck inside the garage for safety. Michael could pick it up any time after he got back on Monday.
Finally done with the phone, Michael got dressed for work and started walking to the pharmacy. It was only a few blocks into town, so it wasn’t much of a journey. When he got there, he could see that Wilbur hadn’t been joking. The store was literally packed with people lined up for flu shots. He helped Wilbur as much as he could, and by the time the pharmacy closed that evening, he was tired.
Wilbur handed Michael some extra cash in appreciation for him coming in on such short notice. He even offered to give Michael a free flu shot, but Michael was exhausted and just wanted to get home. Besides, Scott had recently filled his ear with stories of just how unsafe the vaccine could be, given the possibility of long-term side effects. Michael thought Scott had been reading too many internet conspiracy theories.
Fatigued from work, Michael entered his apartment for the second time that day. He was immediately greeted by his two loud, exuberant roommates, who had already started their routine Friday night festivities.
“It’s about time you got back,” Scott said as Michael walked in the door. “Where in the world have you been all of this time?” Scott stood at about five feet six and had short, tightly curled brown hair. With a small nose, round face, and freckles, he was the smaller of the two Pennsylvania boys. All three of them were currently in their last year of pharmacy school, and Scott already had a job lined up at a pharmacy in his hometown after graduation.
Scott was also Michael’s tennis partner. Neither of them was good at sports that required bulk, mass, and strength, so for fun, they had joined the school tennis team. Although not a spectacular sport, it was a good form of exercise and didn’t require a lot of time from their strenuous academic schedule. They also played golf together once in a while, but Michael ended up losing more balls in the water than he could afford. The end result was that they did not receive an invitation to join the “privileged” Phi Delts.
“I got called in to work to help out,” Michael replied tiredly.
“Don’t you know what day it is?” Brian asked, appearing from the kitchen area, somehow managing to carry two beers in just one massive hand. Opposite in stature to Scott, Brian was on the husky side. With straight, light brown hair, he stood at five feet eleven. He was built like a football player, and Michael was surprised to find out that Brian never played sports much. He liked to spend time in the gym lifting weights but was not overly obsessed with it. In spite of being husky, Brian was actually a calm teddy bear on the inside. And with his good looks, physical build, and natural charm, he usually dated the more attractive women. Michael and Scott both envied him in that respect.
Brian had received an invitation to join the Phi Delts, but he had turned it down without a second thought. He wouldn’t even consider joining a fraternity that discriminated against his friends.
Both he and Scott had come from the same hometown in Pennsylvania, although they really didn’t know each other until they arrived at the university. They had run in different circles, and it wasn’t until they saw each other at freshman orientation that they decided to room together.
Michael had met the Pennsylvania boys in his first year. He didn’t know anyone else at the university, because most of his high-school graduating class that went on to further education had opted to go to the University of Cincinnati. Michael was befriended by Brian and Scott. Their personalities clicked, and it seemed as if they had known each other for a long time. Michael felt comfortable around them, and he considered both of them equally as his best friends. They could entertain Michael for hours with their many stories of the crazy things they and their friends had done in their small Pennsylvania hometown.
With a few strides, Brian crossed the room to Michael and placed an unopened beer in his hand. Then he announced, “It’s my birthday! Time to par-tee!” He popped open the top of his beer and proceeded to empty the contents down his throat.
“Congrats!” Michael cheered halfheartedly. “Happy birthday!” He opened his beer and took his first sip. It looked like he wasn’t going to get much studying done tonight. Well, he still had all day Saturday and Sunday. “So what are we doing? Where are we going?” he asked.
Both Brian and Scott smiled at him like he had just asked the most moronic question.
Chapter 3
Doctor Curtis Freeman walked briskly down the white, tiled hallway with a stern look of either determination or smoldering anger on his face. His nostrils were assailed by the lingering smell of sanitizer and disinfectants that made the Innocu-Tech lab smell like the bowels of a hospital. Holding a PhD in microbiology and immunology, and having specialized in infectious disease during his medical training, it had been a long time since Dr. Freeman had seen the inside of a hospital. He had preferred to work with his microbes, viruses, and spores in the isolated comfort of a laboratory. He really did not like the company of people; hence, he was still single at forty-six years old.
He had just lo
st his last test subject this morning. After making the required notations on the deceased patient’s chart, he had his secretary place an emergency call to the CEO of Innocu-Tech. If he didn’t hear from him soon, the next call he was planning to make was to the CDC in Atlanta. This was no longer an Innocu-Tech laboratory, nor was it a clinic. After losing thirty-nine test patients within two days, he considered that this building was now a morgue.
At the sealed doors leading out of the lab, he reached over, swiped his card, and typed a sequence of numbers on the keypad. The small green light above the keypad flashed three times. Then, as Dr. Freeman waited impatiently, the airtight door hissed as it slid open. A gust of wind blew past his face as he stepped into the chamber. The intermediate chamber was purposely maintained at a higher pressure than the inner core to prevent any airborne particulate matter from inadvertently escaping the lab.
Hitting the large button on the wall a little harder than he needed to, Dr. Freeman fidgeted as the doors closed behind him. He slid his protective goggles over his eyes as he pushed another button. The chamber was flooded with ultraviolet light. After a time, the intense light shut off, and the door in front of him made a similar hiss as it opened to allow him through. Stripping his protective gear and scrubs in the connecting locker room, he mindlessly placed them in the appropriate receptacle to be sterilized. He then dressed in his normal work clothes and put on his lab coat. Adjusting his black-rimmed glasses and checking himself in the mirror, he was clipping his ID badge to the pocket when he heard the overhead intercom.
“Dr. Freeman, please come to your office,” the female voice said. He instantly recognized it as his secretary. “Dr. Freeman, please come to your office.”
Good timing, he thought as he opened the door. He hurried down the hallway. He ignored other scientists and support personnel dressed in matching white lab coats. After passing several offices, he pushed open the door to his own office.
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