Three Miles Out: Book One
Page 3
He gnawed viciously at her neck, shaking his head left to right like a lion disabling his prey. Kira’s body was limp in his grip.
Vivian couldn’t breathe, her heart pounded so badly she felt it in her chest.
Ben saw her.
He had a maddened look, as if he didn’t even know Vivian. His eyes were dark, face gray and blood covered his hands and mouth.
The second he saw Vivian, he threw Kira’s body like a doll. It bounced against the wall and dropped to the floor.
Vivian flew for the door.
Ben lunged.
He grabbed onto Vivian and sunk his teeth deep into her forearm. The pain was so intense Vivian couldn’t get enough air to scream.
Spud, as little as he was, tried with diligence to stop Ben.
He jumped up at Ben and latched on, snarling and shaking. Trying to be a hero.
Ben released his hold on Vivian and she ran. She had to make it to the other door.
Once she stepped foot into the dining room, she saw Kaddy.
Vivian froze.
Her poor daughter had met the same violent fate as her sisters. Torn apart, gutted.
‘Yelp’
Another aching, sick feeling shot through Vivian and she knew she had to run. Her feet felt heavy, glued to the floor.
An angry, almost demonic snarl was close by her side, she jolted to her left to see Ben. He reached out trying to grab her, but she ran. She had made it to the kitchen when he latched onto her again.
She struggled against his strong hold. Her arms reaching forward, her body shifting, trying to break free and then she saw it.
The cast iron frying pan on the stove.
His fingers dug into her back, and with everything she had she reached out with her fingers touching the pan. It was all she needed. Another inch she had it. Once it was in her grip she lifted the pan, and with everything she had she pulled away from his hold, swinging with the momentum of her turn she hit him.
Clonk.
She nailed him, Ben went down.
Vivian could have ran, but she didn’t.
She hit him again.
Ben didn’t stop fighting. He clawed at her legs, but Vivian didn’t stop.
Why wouldn’t he die?
Hit.
Hit.
Smash.
Die.
Gasp.
Even with the medication flowing through her veins Vivian relived the emotional pain and cried out. “No!”
“Give it a second,” the nurse said. “I promise it will work.”
“Please,” Vivian sobbed out the word. “Please.”
Another person flew into the room, this one a man.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“We’re trying to get her heart rate down.”
“When did you administer the medication?” he asked.
“Just now. But I didn’t administer the second dose yet.”
Vivian remembered it all and with it came such an excruciating pain, she just wanted to die. In fact, she wished she had died.
“Oh, God,” she cried out, sobbing.
“Vivian,” the man said calmly. “We need you to relax. Okay. It’s imperative.”
“I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it,” she cried. “My babies.”
“Vivian,” he called her name again.
“My babies,” she screamed. “Please, please, I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill my babies!”
He grabbed onto her hand. “We know.” He stared intently at her, trying to calm her. “Trust me, we know.”
FIVE – WHEN IN DOUBT
It was the strangest looking bologna, and none like Brady had ever seen. It was bread size and square, nothing seeped out over the edge of the sandwich.
Actually, it was kind of cliché in that it was the meal they gave Brady and Jason. A single bologna sandwich on two slices of white bread, an orange, and a bag, not bottle, of water with a tiny little straw that reminded him of his juice box days.
They were detained.
It wasn’t as if they were in a cell, but they might as well have been.
A small room in the police station, with one window near the ceiling, two cots and a locked door. The only thing that wasn’t cell like was the bathroom. There was a toilet and sink in a closet size room without a door.
After they stepped from their car they were handcuffed and placed in the squad car without any explanation.
Neither Brady or Jason argued, or fought. Figuring the fewer problems they caused the better off they would be.
The officer took their information and their phones before putting them in the room.
“How long are we going to be here?” Jason asked. “My wife is making pot roast and she doesn’t make that often.”
“For real, dude?” Brady asked.
“You’re going to miss dinner son,” the officer said. “We’ll call her and let her know.”
“Can you tell us why we’re under arrest?” Jason asked.
“You’re not under arrest. You’re detained. For security reasons.” On that note, the officer walked out and locked the door.
“We’re in here for security,” Brady said.” Because we saw that guy get shot by a soldier.”
“He wasn’t a soldier.”
“Dude, he was wearing a uniform.”
“Dude,” Jason said passive. “Next to Montana, Ohio is the biggest militia state. He was militia.”
“Hmm. Please tell me you deleted the pictures and messages.”
“I did. You know they have the technology to find stuff you deleted, right?”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” Brady took a seat on the cot. It wasn’t long after that they brought the bologna.
He wasn’t happy.
“Bologna,” Brady said of his sandwich. “My cousin was in county once. He said because he was arrested on the weekend all he ate was bologna. I remember cringing because I hate bologna.”
“I never had it,” Jason replied. “So I’m pretty excited to try it.”
“You never had bologna before? Who never eats bologna?”
Jason shook his head. “My mother never bought it and my wife refuses.”
“Oh, dude, you are so lucky. My mom is the queen of bologna. Bologna sandwiches, fried bologna, eggs and bologna. You name it.”
“Well, if you aren’t eating yours, I will. This is really good.”
“No, I’m hungry.” Brady lifted his sandwich. “I’m really shocked you aren’t more upset about this.”
“It’s fine,” Jason tossed his hand. “It’s kind of exciting. I mean, we aren’t in trouble. We really should be traumatized by what we saw, but thanks to video games that was pretty mild.”
“True.”
“Besides, this is the most excitement you and I have had together since your mom got into that fight when we took her Black Friday shopping.”
“That was five years ago,” Brady said. “We have exciting times.”
“No, we play video games and hang out. That’s why Corrie doesn’t care when I’m with you. You’re my safe friend. This isn’t going to last. You know my wife,” Jason said. “She has the video. We’re detained in a backward town with local militia posing as military. She’s all over social media and by now you can bet that video is viral.”
“You think?” Brady asked.
“Oh, yeah, for sure. You can bet within an hour, not only will be the news be back here, but …” Jason gave a confident nod. “Someone from the State Department will be opening this door.”
<><><><>
Colonel Linda Sharpe opened her bottom desk drawer, reached inside and pulled out the pint size bottle of whiskey. After taking a sip she replaced it in the drawer and regretted not having another.
It was a long day, another in a series of what seemed like never ending long days. As commander of the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases (USAMRIID) Fort Detrick, she was used to long days, but the recent turn of events made
it insane.
She didn’t understand. Not at first, anyways. Why her, why us?
She had a dismissive attitude about it until she was informed, that unless proven otherwise, the first case was connected to Fort Detrick. Something she didn’t know. Her company, her problem. Linda rapidly learned that the top of the chain of command doesn’t always know what’s going on at the bottom. It happened right under her nose.
It wasn’t to say she wasn’t aware, she was.
Four months earlier, eighteen soldiers returning home from policing action in Niger were transferred to Walter Reed with flu like symptoms.
All of them came down with it at the same time, mid-flight home.
She was informed, protocol was followed, the other twelve on the flight were isolated as well. When the eighteen soldiers made full recovery and no one else showed symptoms, Colonel Linda Sharpe closed her book on it.
That was all she knew.
No one informed her otherwise.
She was read the riot act up and down for not being on top of the happenings. It was a simple bug, no one worried about it, or at least projected worry to her. She would have been removed had they not needed her. Plus, putting someone else in there was making someone else here to blame, someone to take the fall if it came to that.
She was unofficially Ground Zero. They also had the facilities to study, learn and conquer it.
Study and learn … yes. Conquering, not so easy.
Admittedly, ignorance was her downfall. She was a field physician. She dealt with combat injuries, not viruses or sickness.
She thought the governments reaction to it was ridiculous and fantasy based. It reminded her of the paranoia during the Ebola crisis. Or so she thought until she saw pictures, read incident reports.
How did it slip by?
A delayed ticking time bomb was how it was described to her.
That wasn’t good enough.
Linda sent out the order that she wanted to know everything. Every detail.
She was still waiting.
In the meantime, her office was ‘unofficially’ an emergency command center with orders to keep it under wraps from the general population.
That wasn’t going to be easy.
She dreaded the thought of the media finding out. Thus far she had successfully intercepted them with believable cover stories for each incident.
But each day, almost every few hours, another incident popped up and it was getting harder to cover, especially when dealing with local authorities.
Small town sheriffs were a pain in the ass and weren’t falling for anything. They wanted to know why they were shutting down parts of their towns, or a street.
Like the sheriff of Wakeman, Ohio.
She could hear Major Brian James in the next room, dealing with it. Brian was her right hand man, her friend as well as colleague. Although she only heard one side, it was a long conversation that made her want to have another drink.
Reaching for her booze drawer, a knock at her door caused her to retract her hand. “Come in.”
“Okay, he’s good.” Major James stepped in. “He agreed to detain the two witnesses for seventy-two hours. They weren’t close enough to get exposed, but we need to keep them quiet until we know the town is clean.”
“Thank you.”
“Also, the one detainee sent a video to his wife of the incident.”
Linda closed her eyes briefly. “She posted it somewhere.”
“Yes. We think we got it before it went too far. I’m sure we removed it from online. Local Sandusky police were able to get her phone when they informed her that her husband was in custody. She isn’t reacting well. So we moved her to the Marriott and cut means of communications for three days.”
“Good. Good. Thank you.”
“Can I be blunt?” he asked.
“Please.”
“We’re doing well, but this isn’t going to work for long. I’m not a virologist or scientist, but at the rate this thing is moving I think we have a week before it’s too far ahead of us.”
Linda sighed heavily, she reached down to her drawer and pulled out that small bottle. She didn’t need to reply, her actions and facial expressions said it all.
Defeat.
Brian was wrong. To her, it was probably already ahead of them.
<><><><>
Who was this man? Vivian wondered. His blue, glove covered hand, clutching hers. His eyes staring at her over the top of his mask, trying hard to convey a sense of calm to her.
There was no calming her. The emotional pain was so crushing she just wanted to die.
“Kill me,” Vivian pleaded. “Please, please kill me.”
He peered up to the nurse in the room. ‘Can you give us a moment please?”
“Shall I administer the second shot?” she asked.
“Leave it. I’ll do it,” he replied. “Thank you.” Once the nurse had left the room he returned his focus to Vivian. “Vivian, I know what you’re asking. I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that.”
“My babies are gone. I don’t want to live.”
“I get that, but listen to me.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Aaron Finch. I’m an ep …” he paused and corrected himself. “I’m a doctor brought in especially for this case. We need to keep you calm, keep your heart rate down.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’ve been injured. I don’t know if you know this or remember it happening. You suffered several lacerations on your forearm and leg. They were rather deep, but we repaired them. They were human bite marks. Are you aware?”
Vivian shook her head. She didn’t care. She was so distraught there was no strength in her body.
“Are you in pain at all?”
She lifted her eyes to him. ‘My heart is broken in a million pieces, there’s no greater pain.”
“What about your injuries?”
“I don’t feel them,” Vivian said. “I don’t feel them at all.”
“You will once the local wears off.”
“Listen to what I am saying,” she sniffled. “I don’t care how bad it hurts. My children are gone. There’s nothing left for me. Nothing.”
“I wish I could tell you that you’ll feel better after you rest.” He stood and lifted the syringe. “I’ve let you remain upset too long.”
“I don’t want you giving me any sedatives.”
“You don’t have a choice. You’re vital. We need you alive and I need you calm. I can’t stress how important that is. I know you are in shock and you need to let your grief out. I know you want to scream, cry, break down, but right now that can’t be.” He injected the fluid into her IV. “I am really so sorry for your loss.”
“They said I killed them. I didn’t kill them.”
“I know. We all know.”
“Then why are they saying I did it?” she asked.
“Why? It has to be that way. Because the truth,” he exhaled heavily. “Is far too frightening for anyone to know.”
SIX – CHEESE AND CRACKERS
They heard the squeaky wheels of the cart nearing first, the double cough, followed by the jangle of keys.
Both Brady and Jason stood up from the bunks.
The door opened and the sheriff stood there.
“Are we allowed to leave?” Brady asked.
“Sorry. No.” The sheriff shook his head. There was something genuine about him. ‘It wasn’t my intention to hold you. It really wasn’t. In fact, I thought by now you boys would be gone. That’s not the case. I’m sorry about all this. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Our families have to be worried,” Jason said. ‘My wife.”
“I spoke to your wife, then your local police spoke to her,” the sheriff replied. “Right now, because you sent her that video, your wife and baby are being watched to make sure they don’t relay information.” He held up his hand. “No worries. They have a really nice suite at the M
arriott.”
Jason sat on the bunk.
“Look, boys, I didn’t want to keep you here, I really didn’t.”
“We’re detained because of what we saw,” Brady said. “I get that. You’re keeping us here so we don’t say anything.”
“Actually, things are bigger than that,” the sheriff said. “For as much as I tried to get you two to leave, I was told to keep you.”
“By who?” Jason asked.
“Who do you think?”
Jason shook his head. “If you’re implying the government, why are they involved?”
“I can’t tell you. Just know you’re here and I feel bad.” The sheriff reached out and pulled the cart into the room. On it was a television. “Since you’re stuck here, I’m gonna try to make this as painless as possible. I got some clothes for you. Some snacks, soda and beer. Plus, I found an old video game unit with games in storage. It’ll pass the time.”
“Any idea when we can leave?” Brady asked.
“You’ll know as soon as I do. If you need anything just pound on the door and holler. We’re right down the hall. Good night boys.” The Sheriff coughed again, then walked out. He pulled the door closed and locked it.
Sighing out in frustration, Jason stood and walked over to the cart. “Let’s see what we got here.” He examined the television. “Look at the bulk of this fucking thing. How did people deal with these things?” He ran his hand over it. “Fucking ancient. Nineteen inch screen. Dude, check this out.” He knocked on the screen. “It’s glass.”
“Oh, that’s gonna suck for graphics.”
“Not really.” Jason lifted the game console.
“Is that Sega Genesis?”
“It is and …” he started laughing. “RCA jacks. Oh my God.”
“Hey, dude, you were talking about this being exciting. Yet, here you are again playing video games with me.”
“Yeah, ain’t that the truth?” With a shake of his head and a chuckle, Jason began to connect the game unit to the television. They would make the most of, what they believed to be, their only night in detainment.