The program had been touted as a cure for malaria by the company sponsoring it, Pishon Chem. Not only would it be eradicating the disease, but it had brought money into the communities by hiring thousands of locals to walk through the cities and spray the streets with the special liquid mixture.
Pishon was an old word. It was one of the rivers that had surrounded the Garden of Eden, and therefore an apt name for one of the Project’s dummy companies.
In less accessible areas, where politics or geography had made the placement of shipping containers and the use of the malaria drug impossible, planes disguised as commercial aircraft dispensed the virus from above. The rate of initial infection from this method was calculated to be low, but low was enough. The Project knew the second round of infection—those getting it from the first—would initiate an incremental growth that would be impossible to stop.
There were other methods of exposure used here and there throughout the world. Misters in grocery stores designed to keep the produce fresh, free perfume and cologne samples being distributed at major international airports, and small bottles of “flavored water” being handed out at tourist sites in several major capitals of the world.
It was a massive effort that had taken decades to plan, and it was commencing nearly flawlessly. The previous directors of Project Eden would probably have been very proud, if it weren’t for the fact they were all dead.
IMPLEMENTATION DAY PLUS ONE
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 23rd
World Population
7,176,607,708
Change Over Previous Day
+ 283,787
16
OUTSIDE MUMBAI, INDIA
6:39 AM INDIAN STANDARD TIME
DESPITE HOW EXHAUSTED he’d been when he went to sleep the night before, Sanjay woke well before there was even a hint of daylight. His shoulders burned with tension, and he was finding it impossible to take anything but short, shallow breaths.
He lay that way for hours, trying to will himself back to sleep, but soon realized it was not going to happen. He wondered if he’d ever sleep well again.
If it weren’t for Kusum, he would have gotten up and walked around, hoping that would drive the anxiety from his veins, but she lay in his arms, asleep, and he had no desire to subject her to the same hell he was going through. As it was, he could tell her sleep wasn’t completely untroubled. Several times she’d twisted and jerked as her dreams momentarily took control of the rest of her body. A few times she’d even cried out.
He wondered, as she murmured what sounded like his name, exactly what she was dreaming about. Was he the hero or the villain in her nightmare? Or was it best not to know? He wasn’t even sure which one he was to her in real life.
What if he was wrong? What if what he’d learned were lies?
When the sky in the east started to yellow, he knew he could lie there no longer. He pulled his arm out from under her neck, and started to slowly move away.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I’ve been awake for a while.”
“Oh,” he said, surprised. “I just thought I’d take a walk, see what’s around.”
She turned and looked at him for several seconds. “Were you lying to me yesterday?”
“No.”
She considered him some more, then touched her arm where he’d given her the shot. “I don’t feel any different.”
“It was a vaccine. I don’t think you are supposed to feel any different.”
“I just thought…”
She didn’t finish her thought. It took him a moment, but he finally realized that when she’d gone to sleep, she still believed he had drugged her.
“I told you. I have only been trying to save you.”
“If what you have told me is true, what about my family?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d asked that, and he gave her the answer he’d given before. “I only had the one shot.”
“What about the one you took?”
That she hadn’t asked before, and it surprised him. “I had to make sure it didn’t hurt me before I could give it to you. Don’t you see that?”
She sat up, suddenly determined. “We have to go back. You can get more for my family.”
He rose quickly to his feet. “Impossible. I don’t even know where I could find…” He paused. Yes, he knew where there might be more vaccine. The same place he had gotten it the first time. Still… “Today is the day they will spray the city. We can’t go back there.”
She stood and began wiping off the dirt that clung to her clothes. “We have to try.”
“There is nothing we can do.”
She stared at him, her face hardening. “Then I will go without you.”
She turned toward the road and started walking.
“Wait,” he said, grabbing her arm.
She quickly twisted free, but didn’t turn away. “If you care about me like you say, you will help me to save my family.”
“By the time we get there, it may already be too late.”
“I will not just wait here. I have to do whatever I can.”
Again, she started walking.
“Kusum! Please!”
She didn’t stop.
“Kusum!” She’d almost disappeared into the jungle. “All right, all right! I’ll drive you back.”
She slowed to a halt and looked at him. “Let’s go.”
__________
THEY TRAVELED DOWN the rutted road toward the highway. In the first light of day, the jungle looked thinner and less menacing than it had in the dark.
It took them a full half hour to reach the blacktop road. Sanjay was surprised. He hadn’t realized they’d ridden that far into the wilderness.
It wasn’t long before he said, “We have to make a stop.”
“Why?”
“The tank is almost empty. We would never make it all the way there.”
He could hear her sigh, frustrated. “Okay, but as quick as we can.”
A few minutes later, he saw a roadside stop that was selling petrol out of cans. While a young boy helped him fill his tank, Kusum went inside the hut that served as a shop, but she was only gone a few seconds before she rushed back out.
“Sanjay! Come quick!”
He looked at her, confused, but she’d already disappeared back through the door. He paid the boy for the fuel, and jogged over to the hut.
Inside were several tables full of food items for purchase, and two coolers stuffed with drinks. But Kusum wasn’t looking at any of them. She was standing near the back corner, staring at a TV on a table. Three other people were also crowded around, watching.
A BBC news anchor was framed in the center of the screen.
“…dozens of locations around the globe,” the man said.
“What’s going on?” Sanjay asked.
Kusum and one of the others shhh’d him, their attention never leaving the screen.
“Last evening local time, in the US state of Georgia,” the anchor went on, “firefighters in the city of Athens attempted to relocate one of the boxes. This resulted in a fiery explosion that killed five firemen and three civilians. Several more similar incidents have been reported from elsewhere in the States and in Europe. Officials in most countries have now suspended all orders to move the boxes, and have begun evacuating persons living anywhere near suspected containers.
“There has still been no word on what the container’s purpose might be, or who is behind them. Several helicopters—both news and police—have flown over boxes to get a look inside.” The image switched to a downward shot of one of the boxes. It was rectangular in shape, large. While the top was open, there were two large circular areas side by side near the lip, each shimmering slightly. “Analysts have determined that what you are looking at are two exhaust-type fans that seem to be pushing whatever is inside into the air. Speculation has been focused on the possibility that the conte
nts are biological in nature. Investigative teams in many nations have taken the precaution of wearing protective gear within a half-mile radius of the boxes.
“Several groups have put forward the suggestion that this is a hoax meant to send the message of what could happen. One Latin American organization is even taking credit for doing just that, but officials are saying the claim is baseless.”
Sanjay couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Mysterious boxes shooting something into the air? Something biological? Today? The timing was too coincidental. This had to be linked to the spray Pishon Chem was unleashing on Mumbai.
Kusum looked over at him. He could see in her eyes she believed him completely now, and was thinking the same thing.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand. “We have a long way to go.”
“My family?”
“We’ll try.”
“Thank you.”
They retuned to the bike, and raced west for Mumbai.
__________
WITH EACH PASSING kilometer, the traffic seemed to be getting lighter and lighter. At first Sanjay didn’t think anything of it, but when it got to the point where he and Kusum were only one of a handful of vehicles on the road, he began to wonder. It had to have something to do with the news—people captivated by the reports and staying home, worrying that the same containers would be found in the areas around Mumbai.
But while there were fewer people about as they entered the city, Sanjay did start to see many of the boys and men walking through neighborhoods spraying Pishon Chem’s “mosquito-killing” poison. The public was so focused on the troubles abroad, it couldn’t even see the one right under its nose.
Each time Sanjay saw one of the people doing the spraying, he was tempted to pull over and tell them to stop, but he knew no one would listen to him. More importantly, any delay getting to Kusum’s family could be the difference between life and death.
They went directly to the fruit stand her parents owned, where Sanjay had first seen Kusum. But when they arrived, there was no fruit on display, and no one standing behind the cart. The stand was closed.
“No,” Kusum whispered.
Without even looking at her, Sanjay knew she was thinking her parents and sister might already be sick. But the spraying had been going on for only a few hours, and even if her family had been exposed, Sanjay doubted there had been enough time for them to fall ill.
“It’s okay,” he said. “They’ve stayed home like everyone else. Look, most of the shops are closed.”
He could feel her moving around on the back of the bike, scanning the area. “Yes. Yes, that must be it.”
“Tell me where your home is.”
__________
ONCE MORE, AS they drove along the streets of Mumbai, they saw more of the army of sprayers delivering the deadly liquid, neighborhood by neighborhood.
I should be shouting, Sanjay thought. I should be screaming for everyone to run. But again, who would listen? Save who you can, he told himself, ignoring the question of how.
The building Kusum’s family lived in was down a long, narrow alley. Thankfully, the closest Pishon Chem sprayers were nearly a kilometer away, and by the absence on nearby streets and sidewalks of the residual sheen from the spray, Sanjay knew they had not yet moved through this area.
“Where is everyone?” Kusum asked as they made their way down the alley.
He didn’t have to ask her what she meant. Sanjay had seen hundreds of streets just like this one, usually teeming with people at this time of day. But they’d barely seen anyone, and those they had eyed them suspiciously while hurrying to some unknown destination.
“There,” Kusum said after a moment, pointing over his shoulder at her building.
It was an old and tired-looking place, stained brown where water from the frequent rains had run down the sides for decades. Families would be stuffed inside, ten or more people in every two- or three-room apartment, doing what they could to collectively survive.
As soon as Sanjay pulled the bike to a stop, Kusum leaped off the back and raced for the door. He headed after her, passing through in time to see her running up a set of stairs. He tried to catch up but she was moving fast, and it was all he could do to keep her in sight. When he turned at the midway point between the second and third floors, where the stairs doubled back, she was gone.
“Kusum?” he called.
“This way!” she yelled, her voice coming through the door to the third floor.
Once he exited the stairwell, he spotted her three-quarters of the way down the hall, turning the knob on one of the doors. It seemed to be locked.
She knocked loudly and yelled, “It’s me! Kusum!”
There was a momentary delay, then the door flew open, and her mother rushed out.
“Where have you been?” she asked. She touched her daughter’s face, and pulled her into her arms.
“Kusum!” the voice of her father boomed out of the room. “Answer your mother’s question. Where have you been?”
Kusum pulled back from her mother’s embrace. “I…I…”
She glanced toward Sanjay, who had stopped several meters away. Her mother followed her gaze. Her father stepped into the hallway and did the same.
“You!” her father said. He started marching toward Sanjay. “What have you done?”
Her father was not a particularly large man, but at the moment he seemed like a giant to Sanjay. Fire raged in the man’s eyes, and his nostrils flared in anger.
“I can explain,” Sanjay said, backpedaling.
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!”
As soon as Kusum’s father was close enough, he grabbed Sanjay’s shirt with one hand and struck him across the face with the other.
“You have ruined my daughter!”
“No!” Kusum told him. “That’s not true.”
She reached out to stop him, but her mother pulled her back.
“I have not,” Sanjay pleaded. “I was only—”
“Shut up!” The man slapped Sanjay. “You expect me to believe your lies?”
Down the hall, a few doors opened and people peeked out, but none seemed willing to come to Sanjay’s aid.
“Nothing happened,” Sanjay said quickly. “I have done nothing to her. You can ask her.”
As Kusum’s father raised his hand again, Sanjay prepared to be hit once more, but the blow never came.
“Father, please.” Kusum had broken free from her mother, and grabbed her father’s hand. “Sanjay did nothing wrong. He was only trying to save me.”
Her father whirled on her as if he’d hit her, too.
“No!” her mother yelled. “Don’t.”
“He was trying to save me,” Kusum repeated.
Her father’s anger seemed to lose a bit of focus, the tension in his upraised arm wavering. “Save you from what?” he said, his tone all but accusing her of trying to fool him.
Kusum’s eyes moved past him down the hall toward their neighbors, who continued to watch the spectacle. “Please, Father. Let’s go inside. We can talk there.”
For a moment, it looked as if he wasn’t interested in going anywhere, but then he took a deep breath and nodded. Yanking on Sanjay’s arm, he shoved him toward the door. “You first.”
The apartment was predictably small. The main room served as the kitchen, dining, and living area.
In addition to Kusum’s parents, her younger sister Jabala was there, as were three others Sanjay didn’t know. One was an older woman, and two were young children, a boy and a girl who were about five or six.
The most expensive thing in the room was the television. Like the one they’d seen when they’d stopped for gas, it was tuned to BBC International.
Kusum’s father entered last and slammed the door behind him. “Saved you from what?” he demanded.
Sanjay pointed at the TV. “From that, I think.”
Her father looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What do you mean?
”
“Maybe we should all sit down,” Kusum suggested. “Jabala, could you take Panna and Darshan into the other room?”
“I want to hear what you’re going to talk about,” Jabala said.
“I know,” Kusum said softly. “I will tell you everything after, okay?”
Not looking happy, Jabala grabbed the hands of the two children and led them through the doorway at the far end of the room.
“Please, Father. Sit down,” Kusum said.
After a moment’s hesitation, her father did, and the others followed suit.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” her father said, looking at Sanjay.
Sanjay glanced at the floor, unsure how to begin.
“You need to tell them everything,” Kusum said. “Just like you told me.”
She was right, of course. It was exactly what he had to do, so it was exactly what he did.
If it weren’t for the crisis playing out on TV, he was sure they would have dismissed his claims immediately.
“The malaria spray?” Kusum’s father said when Sanjay finally finished, anger no longer underlining the man’s voice. “Are you sure?”
“I am as sure as I can be. It’s what was told to me.”
“And your cousin?” Kusum’s mother said.
“I saw Ayush with my own eyes.” He paused. “By now, I am sure he is dead.”
Both Kusum’s mother and the old woman—her aunt—looked visibly shaken.
“Then why did you come back if you were trying to keep her safe?” Kusum’s father asked. “You are saying they are spreading this…disease through the city right now.”
“The vaccine will protect her.”
“Are you sure?” Her father was starting to become angry again.
“Yes,” Sanjay said. About as much as I can be.
Before her father could speak again, Kusum jumped in. “He didn’t want to bring me back. I forced him.”
“But why?” her mother asked. “If he’s right, it’s too dangerous here. You should have stayed away.”
Pale Horse (A Project Eden Thriller) Page 9