Today We Die (The Killing Sands Book 1)

by Daniel Wilde

“We’re going to a private room—one for each of us. But I will be very close by.”

  Sensing the tension in the nurses pulling on her arms, Shani cried out, “Where are we going? Daddy! [coughing] Daaa-dddy! Don’t let them take me away, please! Please daddy! [coughing].”

  “Be still darling,” Dr. Ghannam said quietly to his daughter as they left the room. “Everything is going to be okay. I love you very much Shani.”

  Shani screamed. The others watched in silence as the Ghannams left their view.

  With tears of her own as she watched the nurses over the holo remove Dr. Ghannam and Shani from the room, Anta choked, “What is going on? What does all of this mean?”

  “I don’t know, Dr. Chalthoum,” Dr. Shevchuk replied. “I know that is difficult to hear, but I really don’t know. Does everyone have a little more time to talk with me? I need more to go on than what I have.”

  For the next 90 minutes, we discussed John’s and Dr. Shevchuk’s theories. We discussed their respective findings, including Mr. Shafik’s condition, the Ghannams’ condition, and what we have learned about Bacillus anthracis. I didn’t like what I heard.

  I also explained what I know about World War II and the two Battles for El-Alamein, given that the body in the cave appears to have been involved in one of those skirmishes in some way. John theorized that the person in the cave may have been transporting the vial, which contained Bacillus anthracis, or some mutated form of the disease, when he entered the cave. Perhaps he got lost, or trapped in the cave somehow. Eventually, after the cave had been closed off to the world, probably by sand, the vial was opened and the man in the cave was exposed. Dr. Shevchuk reasoned that, if John’s theory is correct, then we may expect that Dr. Ghannam, Shani, and Mr. Shafik will all die in the same way. And, perhaps thousands more people in and around El-Alamein. Again, a translation of the notepad we found in the cave could be very useful.

  Anta may have saved our lives by procuring and insisting that we wear chem suits, but we won’t know for a few more days. We need to get out of El-Alamein, but to leave would be irresponsible. We can’t accomplish any more here though. Dr. Shevchuk and John and their respective teams will be handling the situation now, informing the proper authorities, spreading the word to the various health organizations around the world and in the lunar colonies, and to the IWO. The release I’m feeling as that burden is lifted from me is tremendous.

  John is going to have his people set up some kind of communication system for invitees’ eyes only to share data. Within hours, or perhaps minutes, the artificial quarantine zone boundaries here will be much more difficult to bypass. Anta is currently working on an ‘escape’ plan for the moment we determine that we have not been infected. I hope she comes through for us. I’m sure she will. Now we need to call daddy.

  January 9, 2093, 1015 EET

  Excerpt from a news story published in the “ENCIG” (El-Alamein NewsCorp Information Guide)

  In what has, until now, appeared to be only fable and myth, it appears that El-Alamein has been visited by some pestilence, just as ancient Egypt was visited by the Biblical 10 plagues at the time of Moses. While not as severe as the Bible would lead us to believe at the time of Moses, El-Alamein’s “plague” has sent at least 141 individuals to local hospitals in the past 24 hours with coughing, fever and headaches.

  An anonymous Health Ministry official warns that, although such illnesses have been largely contained in the past, this particular illness is not responding to now-universal medications and treatment. It is presently unknown what the illness is or where it came from, but the Health Ministry official has indicated that, for now, it appears to be just another common illness that will run its course in due time.

  January 9, 2093, 1630 EET

  Excerpt from a news story published in the “ENCIG” (El-Alamein NewsCorp Information Guide

  In an update to our story published this morning, over the past six hours, more than 850 more individuals have presented to El-Alamein hospitals complaining of headaches, fever and coughing. Earlier admittees have not responded to common treatment protocols, but instead, appear to be getting worse, with some displaying bloody phlegm and stool.

  Health Ministry officials now warn people to stay indoors as the illness appears to be communicable.

  January 9, 2093, 2115 EET—Shift

  Anta and I continue to wear our chem suits, day and night. I haven’t taken a shower for days. We put them on January 4th, in the evening. If we were exposed to Bacillus anthracis, it would have been before that. So, it’s been over five days and although we are both sick at heart, neither of us feels physically ill. We might be safe.

  Earlier this evening, Anta had arranged for us to be aboard a private government jet leaving El-Alamein very early tomorrow morning. Even though commercial jets have been grounded for a couple of days, some private jets were still getting out. Not anymore. Our flight was just cancelled following reports by the local news that hundreds of people are experiencing the same symptoms Mr. Shafik initially suffered. So, we’re stuck, even though we’re probably free of contamination. So, what now?

  After telling me we weren’t going to be able to leave the city, Anta said, “You know, nobody in this town, apart from Mr. Shafik, has ever been near those caves. Mr. Shafik couldn’t have coughed or sneezed on so many people in the short time between when he started showing symptoms and now. He probably hasn’t been in physical contact with more than a dozen people. So how are all of these people getting sick, and so quickly?” Anta was quite calm, considering that her plan to get us out of El-Alamein had just crumbled.

  “Well, a biological outbreak is occurring, obviously.”

  “But how did it get here, and how are so many people catching it?” Anta asked. “You said Anthrax isn’t communicable between people.”

  “Well, the traditional forms of Anthrax weren’t communicable between people, but this isn’t traditional Anthrax. We already know that. There may be something in the concoction that makes it communicable. I don’t know yet.

  “But I do know this: the vial we found in the cave obviously contained some mutated form of Anthrax, likely inhalation anthrax. The cave man opened the vial and caught it. You and Shafik both said that this area has suffered through three weeks of sandstorms, which, at some point within that time span, unburied the cave. The stuff was locked up in that cave for 150 years, and somehow survived. Then, after the storms, the desert men caught it. Then Shafik and the Ghannams caught it.”

  “But all of them went into the cave,” Anta said. “The townspeople here haven’t been near those caves.”

  “Right. And since the vial itself hasn’t been released from its air-proof canister at any point since we first found it in the cave, its presence in El-Alamein can’t be the source of the illness. Plus, remember the gazelle? There’s no way it crawled into the cave either.”

  “So are you and I safe?” Anta asked.

  “I think we might be, but I can’t be sure yet. Both Shafik and the Ghannams first began coughing approximately four days after likely exposure. Apart from any possible spread of the bacteria by Shafik, the bacteria likely arrived in El-Alamein on the last day of the sandstorms, just after you made me put on this crazy chem suit. But, if that’s the case, the other bodies and the body of the gazelle were exposed many days prior to the last day of the sandstorm.

  “I’ve been looking at local weather charts and databases. It looks like the wind, throughout most of the duration of the storms, was blowing from the northeast, which likely kept the spores from traveling into any population centers. But during the last 18 hours or so of the storms, the wind changed direction and pushed the sand, and probably the spores, into El-Alamein. So, it seems to me that the bacteria can be, and has been spread by wind.

  “At this point though, I don’t know whether it’s communicable between people. All of these people were downwind from the caves for up to 18 hours. But because the wind is no longer blowing this direction, or at
all really, I imagine we’ll find out whether it’s communicable if people continue to get sick over the next few days.”

  “Makes sense,” Anta said.

  “I’m hoping that, even though the casualties in El-Alamein will be in the thousands, maybe it can be contained here. Of course, since I don’t know much about the lunar stations and populations of the moon, I don’t know what precautions have been taken there, or whether they’ll be effective.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know either,” Anta said.

  “In any event,” I continued, “I’ve shared my hypothesis with the database John set up. Looking through the notes there, it appears Dr. Shevchuk has invited several other doctors and biologists in the lunar colonies and on Earth to participate in this database. Unfortunately, none of them have posted any additional information. Maybe that’s a good sign.”

  Anta looked skeptical.

  “Anyway, based on my timeline, we’re probably safe as long as we continue to wear the suits until we’re out of here.”

  “We have to be safe,” Anta whispered. “We have to beat this thing!” she exclaimed with more determination. “I’ll contact dad again and work on a plan to get us out of here. Are you going to tell your sister what’s going on?”

  “Not yet. Besides, if I call her now, she’ll probably hear in my voice that something’s wrong.”

  “I’m sorry Shift,” she whispered and placed a gloved hand on my shoulder. It was a nice gesture and actually made me feel a little better.

  January 9, 2093—Anta

  It appears that Shift and I have done all we can in El-Alamein. Our only goal now is to get out of here, but I’m being cautious because we don’t know, yet, whether we’re contaminated. We’re probably fine if Shift’s estimates are correct. At least, Shift is looking pretty fine today! It’s my fault that we’re stuck here. But how was I to know that hundreds of people would get sick so quickly and that the flight dad helped arrange would be cancelled as a result?

  Shift’s theory about how El-Alamein became sick fits with everything we know. If he’s right, and the wind of the sandstorms carried the spores from the cave into the city, then even though the city is on lock-down, if we get any more major wind storms, the disease will spread. Thankfully, we’ve felt very little breeze, of any kind, since the end of the last windstorm. That’s probably the only reason there aren’t any reported illnesses outside El-Alamein and the lunar station.

  I haven’t prayed to Allah or to any other God since I was a little girl, until now. Some people don’t believe in Allah, or God; yet, despite my own reservations on the subject, now seems to be a good time to exercise a bit of faith. I can’t rid my mind of the look in Shani’s eyes, her scream, and the tremor in the voice of her father as they told us goodbye and were escorted out of the room earlier today.

  That little girl’s reaction was heartbreaking and I felt a tremendous weight press down on me. But the love her father showed to her was simply amazing. I’d like to think my father would act the same way, throwing his arms around me, hugging me, and validating my feelings. I have cried a lot today—more than ever in my life—and I wish dad was here to hold me.

  January 10, 2093—Entry in the new Anthrax E database by Dr. Yurgi Shevchuk

  The mutated form of Bacillus anthracis, now dubbed “Anthrax E” by Dr. John Silitzer (“E” for Egypt), has spread throughout El-Alamein. Containment procedures appear to have halted its spread into outlying areas, although approximately 3200 persons are reportedly exposed to date. Each individual presents with varying degrees of fever, coughing, sputum, blood, and pain. Because the people are getting sick at varying times, it seems probable that the disease is spread both through the air and via human-to-human contact, as the common cold is spread.

  Moreover, Mr. Riyad Shafik, now known as “Patient Three” (“Patient One” is Miss Shani Ghannam, “Patient two” is her father Dr. Jafari Ghannam, both presently isolated at the International Lunar Space Station) appears near death. Imaging shows organ- and vessel-liquifaction, whole body. Stabilization procedures are ineffective, currently, and Patient Three’s physicians hold out no hope of survival. No medical procedure or medication has slowed the spread of the disease within Patient Three’s body.

  As reported yesterday by Dr. Slomanson of the International Lunar Space Station, via this database, only Patients One and Two present with any features of this illness on the moon. Patients One and Two were isolated within hours after their arrival at the Space Station, along with others known to have been in close physical proximity to them. Because there is little air movement, and indeed, no wind to affect the spread of the disease on the moon, I remain cautiously hopeful that there was no contamination prior to isolation.

  January 10, 2093—Shift

  “Mr. Shafik has died,” Anta mumbled through her tears as she walked into my hotel room. Her head was down and her posture was that of one carrying a heavy burden. It broke my heart.

  Anta and I haven’t left our adjoining hotel rooms for a while now. We’re using the connecting door between our rooms to meet now rather than going out into the hallway. Each time I have looked into her eyes over the past few hours, the sorrow she displays causes my throat to constrict. But even in her sorrow, she has shown strength beyond comprehension. Everything she says, and everything she does is geared toward the safety of human lives, including ours. She’s awesome!

  The epidemic, now known as Anthrax E, has swept through El-Alamein like a crazed swarm of Africanized killer bees. It’s scary—and this is coming from someone who has studied plagues in significant depth. Reports and data from Doctors Shevchuk and Silitzer, along with reports from the Lunar Space Station, indicate a probable gestation time of approximately 80-110 hours.

  Physicians here in El-Alamein theorize that coughing may be the main causal instrument of the spread of Anthrax E. Of course, several of the infected people have said that they haven’t been exposed to any coughing in the last four or five days. That’s the most awful news of all because it means that the infection, as we previously supposed, must have been carried here on the wind. Thankfully, there still hasn’t been any wind more than a slight breeze in the area since the last day of the storms, apart from small afternoon breezes from the Mediterranean Sea southward, away from any human population.

  Of course, we’re still stuck in El-Alamein and it’s driving me nuts. Doctors Shevchuk and Silitzer have begun research into possible causes, cures and vaccines. No word on any success yet.

  “He was a good dude, wasn’t he?” I asked, mostly to myself as Anta sat down on the bed next to me. “I don’t know whether he had family or friends. I don’t even know whether he had a dog or anybody to look after the dog if he had one. Nobody’s leaving their houses in this town anyway, so the dog wouldn’t fare so well even if somebody were supposed to watch out for him. Poor dog.”

  Anta lifted her head and looked at me, giving me a funny look. Then she said, “The doctor said that Mr. Shafik’s organs began to liquefy and Mr. Shafik lost consciousness shortly thereafter. I don’t know if it would do any good to go to the hospital to take a look though. I think we have enough tissue samples and it will just make me sad.”

  “I guess his body will end up looking like the cave man and the gazelle soon.” That thought crushed me, but I didn’t say it. “I need to work out.”

  “That’s kind of insensitive, isn’t it Shift?” Anta asked, looking perplexed by my attitude.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry,” I replied.

  Unlike Anta, I’m resolved to be an unsympathetic arse about this whole mess. If I allow myself to feel sorrow for every person who dies from this thing, I’m going to go under myself. After watching little Shani break down yesterday, which broke my heart, I’ve determined that I’m going to have to harden myself.

  Minister Chalthoum didn’t hire me for my sympathies or my tears; he hired me to figure out why a couple of dudes died out in the sand dunes. So, I’ve got to treat this like a job, not like th
e whole of the human race is in peril here. I’ll let Anta be the warm, kind, sympathetic person. I’ll be the jerk. Plus, we’re probably not all in peril. Like every other disease in the course of human history, this one’s likely to go down after a few people, or maybe a few thousand people die.

  “Did we needlessly expose him to harm by having him take us to the caves?” Anta wondered aloud. “Of course, we couldn’t have found them alone, and, judging by the way this epidemic has spread through El-Alamein, it seems like he would’ve been exposed anyway.”

  That lessens my guilt, I thought, but doesn’t eliminate it. Oh yeah, I forgot, I’m not going to feel guilt. This is a scientific mission and nothing more. Do not get attached to people Shift.

  January 11, 2093—Entry in the Anthrax E database by Dr. Yurgi Shevchuk

  Anthrax E has not been contained in the moon colonies. The International Lunar Space Station is reporting two new cases of bacterial infection. One case is the intake nurse at the Medical Treatment Facility; the other is a young child who, according to reports, associated with Patient One onboard Egypt VIII. Both patients have been isolated and an extensive interagency search is underway for any other persons showing any symptoms of the disease. I understand the search is confined to the United States Moon Colony as no person from aboard Egypt VIII logged into or out of the Lunar Portal System since the arrival of Egypt VIII. There’s probably a good chance others who were in contact with persons from Egypt VIII did travel through the portals, but I’ll let the experts up there figure out what to do.

  Patient One and Patient Two have died following the liquifaction of their internal organs.

  January 11, 2093—Shift

  I just read a post to the Anthrax E database. It said that no passenger or staff aboard Egypt VIII has logged into or out of the Lunar Portal System on the Moon. What does that mean? Well, Dr. Silitzer has the same question. He wants to know, as I do, by what methods and means Anthrax E could be spread through the lunar colonies. I’m going to present my findings to the group soon—actually, now. They’re calling.