Today We Die (The Killing Sands Book 1)

by Daniel Wilde

  We are currently located in Outpost 18, where the Birds were vacationing, as it is the largest and has plenty of room and entertainment. It is a vacation outpost which can sleep up to 30 people at a time. Thus, because only the Birds were here, we assume that the life support systems will last a long time. If those machines break down, we’ll be able to move our quarters to other posts that held no people at the time of the outbreak or thereafter.

  The others have read your prior update and are aware of our dire circumstances. We are, of course, hopeful that a plan is underway to take us home. We grieve, along with you, at the desperate state of affairs on Earth and here on the moon. Please advise.

  IWO log post (1719 LT):

  Be Advised:

  Dr. Sampson, again, it is with great pleasure that we receive this contact from you! Having not heard from you for several days, we assumed we would not again have the pleasure. We are currently attempting to make contact with relatives of the individuals housed with you. We will update you upon our contact with those individuals.

  Be advised that, as of today, at least 50 people in Central AM and the Caribbean are infected with Anthrax E as a result of the destruction of Gortari II, and the spread of the disease resulting therefrom. It has been confirmed that, although Mexico was authorized to return to Earth, having been given a clean bill of health for each individual reported to be on board, there was an error. At least one person must have been contaminated, and that contamination spread. Body parts from several people have been found in various communities throughout Central AM. Containment procedures are underway, and all available government resources have been, and are, being utilized to contain the spread of Anthrax E on Earth. Thus, no further plans have been developed to bring you home.

  We will keep you updated. Please do the same.

  February 6, 2093—Anta

  Hasani is alive! And he isn’t sick! I received word late yesterday. Mom and dad now know too. I can’t believe it!

  Unfortunately, he has no way to come home, nor do I think it’d be wise for him to do so if there was a way. People all over Central AM are getting sick. I still hope the ocean will keep the disease confined to the west. Unfortunately, there’s no way to know whether that’s true, and if not, for how long the east will be safe? Will birds carry the disease across the seas? Will massive storms—hurricanes, tsunamis and tornadoes—send Anthrax E into the atmosphere only to fall later in new lands?

  Within a few weeks, there may not be a safe landing zone anywhere on Earth. I’m being pessimistic, but I saw the devastation of El-Alamein first hand. I know what this plague can do, and I know that, at least for now, there’s no way to protect anybody who is exposed to it. Hasani is safer on the moon.

  February 7, 2093, 1030 hours EST

  Holographic conference between Ambassador Hasani Chalthoum (at Lunar Outpost 18), Anta Chalthoum (near Boston), Minister Abasi Chalthoum and Mrs. Mariam Chalthoum (Cairo)

  “Hi Family!” Hasani nearly shouted as his family came on the Holo.

  Mariam and Abasi talked over each other in their excitement.

  Abasi, throwing his usual demeanor to the side, nearly shouted back, “Hi son! I’m so grateful that you’re alive!”

  “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!” Mariam began to cry almost immediately upon seeing her son’s face on the Holo.

  Anta, in a poor attempt to control her own emotions, stated simply, “Hasani, we’ve missed you.” Then her tears began to fall as well.

  “I can’t believe I’m able to talk to you again!” Hasani cried. “I was sure that the last time we talked would be the very last time. Nobody was getting out. Nobody had any knowledge of how to escape Anthrax E. Thank you for your advice. It kept me alive!”

  “Well,” Abasi replied, “the advice, along with your wonderful mind and the glorious will of Allah kept you alive. We don’t know everything that has happened to the people on the moon, but we understand that you may be one of just five individuals who have not been exposed to Anthrax E. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, as far as we know. I’m with four other survivors. We’re in Outpost 18. It’s a vacation shell several kilometers from the nearest major colony or shell. Dr. Jonas Sampson, the gentleman who found me and the others, has searched all of the small outposts like this one, looking for survivors. We’re the only people he found alive and healthy. I guess it’s possible that there might still be life in the colonies, but given what we’ve learned over the past few hours through the IIA database, it seems doubtful. Plus, even if there was a chance that someone was still alive, none of us are brave enough—or perhaps it’s stupid enough—to go looking. We wouldn’t even know what to do if we found someone alive. They may be infected and not even know it. How would we isolate them while we waited? Where would we put them? How would we transport them?” Hasani’s voice grew more sullen with each question he asked aloud.

  “Hasani,” Anta replied, “you don’t have to explain why you won’t, or can’t go looking for survivors. I understand completely. I’ve seen the complete devastation Anthrax E leaves in its wake. Nobody survives. Don’t feel guilt. The chance of you finding a survivor is slim, and if you did, the chance of that survivor infecting you all is great. There’s no heroism in suicide, especially when nobody will be saved by your work. Stay where you are.”

  “I agree son,” Abasi added, in a marked return of his usual air of authority. “Stay where you are. I have been talking to my colleagues at the IWO. They assure me that they are looking for a way to get you home, but, as I’m sure you know, Anthrax E has spread. When the Mexican ship that left the moon was shot down, it rained this horrible disease from the sky, and Central AM is being swept up in the flood. It may not be long before all of North AM and South AM are consumed by the plague. Of course, your sister is okay. She is in a bunker on the east coast of North AM. Not even your mother and I know where she is. But she assures us that the plague cannot reach her.”

  Anta, feeling somewhat shameful at her relative safety, humbly said, “This is true, but I’m so worried for the safety of the rest of you. In any event, Hasani, I don’t think your arrival here on Earth would be something to really look forward to. It’s probably good that the IWO can’t get you home yet—that it believes it has more pressing matters is understandable. Of course, the people working here in this bunker are trying, desperately, to find a cure or a vaccine. They think they’re getting closer. Just three days ago, Dr. Shevchuk told us that dead cells can be modulated to repel Anthrax E bacteria. They haven’t figured out how to make live cells do the same thing, but seem quite optimistic that they’re on the right track. There are many other doctors and scientists around the world also working on a cure or vaccine; but I understand Dr. Shevchuk is likely the closest at this point.”

  “That’s good,” Hasani replied. “Mother, how are you?”

  “I’m fine,” Mariam replied. “But I am dreadfully frightened right now for your circumstances. I know you are a grown man, but you are still my son. Be careful Hasani. I want you to come home to me when this is all over. May Allah have mercy and grant my prayers!”

  Anta, remembering, asked, “Wasn’t there a shell on fire? What happened to that?”

  “Oh, that was bad! It basically blew up! We’re a long way from it here at this outpost, but yesterday we heard the explosion and saw smoke and debris shoot up into the air. Although I’d really like to go over there, it’s probably a bad idea.”

  “Wow!” Anta replied. “That would have been amazing to see! But sad too. What if someone was still alive in there when it blew up?”

  “Yeah, I’ve tried not to think about that. While we watched, it appeared that everything that wasn’t tied down floated away into space. It will fall again somewhere though—hopefully not on top of us.”

  “Yes,” Anta mused. “with the low gravity on the Moon, anything that was shot up with any velocity would probably not come back down for a while and not in the same place. That would be st
range to see.”

  Abasi, looking as though something was weighing on his mind, said, “Son, we will contact you again, hopefully with better news. Please help the others. It is your duty as an Ambassador to the lunar colonies to help those with you survive.”

  “I understand father. I will do my best. Anta, good luck.”

  “I love you Hasani!” replied Anta and their mother, at nearly the same time, as if it had been orchestrated.

  “I love you too—all of you!”

  February 9, 2093—Staff Meeting—Hidden Bunker near Boston

  “My friends,” Dr. Shevchuk began, “yesterday’s reports indicate that Anthrax E is spreading quickly through dozens of cities and towns throughout Central AM. At least 294 cases have been confirmed in the 12 days since the explosion of Gortari II.

  “I have been informed that several people will be joining us here in our little underground sanctuary. The U.S. Government is in the process of selecting people to hide away in bunkers like ours to ‘ensure the survival of the fittest’ in the event Anthrax E overwhelms our society.” Dr. Shevchuk raised both hands and used two fingers on each hand to indicate a quotation, even as he rolled his eyes.

  “I understand other national governments are doing the same. I don’t know who is making the decision as to who will join us, but it’s my understanding that the general public has not been made aware of the relocations of these ‘important’ people or the use of these bunkers for safety. What I do know is that the IWO isn’t in control of this process, which is interesting.”

  “That is interesting,” Shift said. “Why would the IWO back off from this when their hands are in practically everything else?”

  “I don’t know that Shift,” Dr. Shevchuk replied. “Perhaps they are too busy worrying about other things.”

  “This is crazy!” Dr. Andrew Jones said, getting a little testy. “You can’t just pick who survives. We can’t play God, can we?”

  “It doesn’t sound like we have any choice in this,” Anta replied.

  “Yeah, you don’t have to worry because everyone in your family is alive and safe,” Dr. Jones said. His comment sounded much more insulting and harsh than he meant for it to sound.

  Anta’s revulsion was palpable and her voice trembled as she responded. “Don’t you dare accuse me of being apathetic! I saw my countrymen and women die before you even knew there was a problem! I’ve lived for weeks in fear for my brother’s safety and have shed more tears than can be counted as I’ve grieved for the lack of safety of my parents! Don’t you dare!” Anta was shaking now and it took all of her self-control to refrain from raising her arm and swinging at Dr. Jones.

  Shift, having been on the receiving end of one of Anta’s punches, when she wasn’t angry, wrapped an arm around Anta’s shoulders and turned her away from Dr. Jones and toward the restroom.

  Dr. Jones’ face became ghostly white and he stammered, trying to think of something appropriate to say. Finally, he squeaked out, “that’s not what I . . . Anta . . . I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.”

  “Friends,” Dr. Shevchuk said consolingly, “we all have emotions, and can’t be expected to hold them in in times of crisis. Let’s just try to be careful about what we say. Let me continue. Anta, can you hear me? I want you to be part of this.”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I don’t know what came over me. Please continue Dr. Shevchuk.” Anta’s words seemed to show she was over it, but her emotions were boiling. She, like everyone else, was experiencing a form and quantity of stress not previously known to most of them.

  “We’ve been told to expect an additional 12 people, bringing the total to 26 in the next few days. We can’t support many more than that, at least not for very long. I’ve been told that a few bunkers in the United States, Russia and China can hold as many as 100-120 people, but that the majority of bunkers around the world have the capability of holding no more than 10-15 people long term. It would be interesting to learn how many people are stowed away, or will be stowed away in bunkers within the next few days worldwide, but I doubt if we’ll ever know.”

  “Is anybody digging more holes or building more bunkers?” Shift asked.

  “I don’t know that. It seems like that would be an advisable thing to do, particularly in the Eastern Hemisphere where there is no imminent danger. But I have not been privy to any conversations on that topic.”

  “How do we know the people coming here won’t be contaminated?” asked Mr. Javier Franco, a cook and maintenance staff member from Massachusetts.

  “That’s a great question Javier. I’m told that each person, prior to entering the bunker, will be screened for any trace of Anthrax E. Additionally, extra provisions will be brought in, after screening, to ensure that we can stay in here for many, many months if necessary. Of course, I hope that isn’t necessary. And, each person will be thoroughly decontaminated in the decontamination chamber, which should kill any spores that may be attached to their bodies or belongings.”

  “What about our families?” Shift asked, emotion crumpling up his face like a used dishrag. “Is there anything we can do for them?”

  “No. I’m sorry,” Dr. Shevchuk replied, clearly sharing the concern and sorrow of his friends. “There is nothing we can do for them. If you need to leave us Shift, or any of you for that matter, I will understand, although I would hate to lose you. When the doors are opened for our guests, each of you will be given the option to leave, but you won’t be able to come back. Think about that, and pray about it if you’re so inclined. While you may not be able to save your families, if the disease spreads, you can be with them at least. But know this, each person here—including you Javier,” Shevchuk said with a warm smile, “has served a good purpose and is needed. Our best chance of survival, as a race, is to continue the good work that each of us is doing here. The more of us who survive the better.”

  “Can we at least tell our families, finally, what is going on?” Javier was tense, and agitated.

  “I have been given strict orders to contain the spread of information from the bunker. But Javier, I’m not your father, your boss, nor your King. I can’t force you to obey rules that I understand to be very difficult. Plus, any decision about whether to stay or go should be made with your family.”

  Mike Petrovsky, a computer scientist and good friend of Dr. Shevchuk’s, who was usually silent during the group’s daily staff meetings, finally spoke up. Looking knowingly at Dr. Shevchuk, he said, “As each of you knows, I have kept a very close eye on your communications with the outside world over the past weeks. I didn’t want to, but it’s been one of my responsibilities. You’ve all handled the responsibility of silence awesomely, apart from a few slip ups where I looked the other way and pretended not to notice! But, if for some reason the communication ports aren’t monitored, say between 10:00 and 11:00 tonight, what could I possibly do about such a computer malfunction?” Mike’s eye had a little twinkle as he winked, looking around the room into each person’s eyes.

  The small group of people assembled in the room understood his meaning, every last one of them.

  After a moment’s silence while people contemplated Mike’s words, Dr. Shevchuk continued. “What I say next is classified information. And by classified, I mean that it does not leave this room, not even tonight between 10:00 and 11:00. Am I clear?” Receiving a few nods, but no comments as he looked around the room, Dr. Shevchuk continued, “On my direction, but against orders given to me from my superiors, Mike has been attempting to locate information on the spread of Anthrax E from government sources which, uncharacteristically, have remained cautious and silent on this issue. He has been attempting to hack into classified web centers and databases. We need to know more about what’s happening out there if we are to be able to help effectively. My sources are providing only the basic information and it is not enough.”

  “What don’t we know Doctor?” Shift asked.

  “Well, that’s a good question Shift. But it�
�s hard to know exactly what it is we should know, but don’t. I would like to know more than just the number of people infected. We aren’t being told their symptoms or how long they’re living after contagion. We don’t have access to medical records from a single one of the infected individuals except Dr. Ghannam and his daughter. The only data we have about the manifestations of the disease are from yours and Anta’s Egyptian samples and from the limited data entered into the IIA database early on, right after Dr. Ghannam and his daughter passed away.”

  “Why is the IWO being so secretive about this? Don’t they want people to be prepared, and maybe live after all?” This time Anta asked the poignant questions.

  “That’s easy,” John replied, “they’re a bunch of crooked, greedy, secretive politicians.” After a pause for effect, and smiling, John continued. “I’m kidding. I’m sure it’s because they don’t want to cause panic in the streets.”

  “You know, that’s not necessarily inaccurate John,” Shift replied. “It wasn’t that long ago that governments were so secretive that their citizens had no faith or trust in their so-called ‘leaders’. We all know that, right? John, you just articulated the centuries-old mindset of most of the world.” Several people nodded in agreement.

  “Until recently, even in the United States, the Justice Department and the Department of Homeland Security, and several other agencies—all operated by the Federal Government and funded by tax dollars—had assumed so much authority that they even began to detain and spy on their own citizens.”

  “But that mistrust of government isn’t exactly the current sentiment in our world now, is it?” Mike asked.

  “No, it’s not really. Things seem to have changed a lot. About 90 years ago, a U.S. District Court Judge said that ‘democracies die behind closed doors.’ Over time, that kind of attitude slowly spread. During the 2030s and 2040s there was a radical redistribution of governmental power in the United States and then other countries of the world. It was that attitude of mistrust that eventually led to the creation of the IWO in 2048. Since that time, it seems as though world governments, particularly the IWO, have maintained a fairly transparent existence; or so I thought.”