Peter drove the white rental van to Frank Travers house. He had checked it out thoroughly for a few days. Travers lived alone and appeared to be retired. At least he seemed to never go to work, but spent most of his time in bars and gambling establishments. Today was a special day; Travers birthday and Peter had a very special present for Travers. Peter knew that Travers hardly ever ventured out before 10:00 AM. It was 9:30 AM when Peter parked in front of the house. He slid the van door open and lifted out the gorgeous flower and balloon birthday arrangement. It had cost him $150, but it was well worth it thought Peter. It was a lot less than he had paid for the magnetic bomb.
Peter walked up to the door and rang the bell. From the corner of his eye he saw the drapery move aside very slightly. Peter wasn’t worried that Travers wouldn’t answer the door. Peter wore green work pants, a white shirt, and a cap that said Jansen’s Florist. When he picked up the flowers at Jansen’s Florist, he offered the floral arranger $30 dollars for his cap, saying he loved it and wanted it to wear in his garden. The guy was more than happy to take his money. Yes, sir, Peter looked the part. The door opened, but only partially. Travers squinted out from the small gap and said, “Leave the flowers on the porch. I’ll get them later.” Peter smiled and said, “Are you Mr. Travers?” “Yah, I am.” “Well, these flowers are for you and I have to sing Happy Birthday and get your signature before I can leave. My boss has very firm rules. I’m sure you know how that is.” At that Travers opened the door and reached for the flowers. At that point Peter fired the Glock 45 that was concealed in his right hand by the floral arrangement. Travers was hit in the chest and stumbled back. Peter fired another three rounds into Travers as he started to keel over. “As Travers laid there dying, Peter leaned down and said, “That’s for Muriel. You should never have taken Balfano’s money, you bastard.” Peter placed the flowers next to Travers and hurried down the walk. Nice funeral arrangement, he mused.
As he climbed into the vehicle he saw a few doors open and people peer out. He drove off rapidly and unworried. No one actually got a good look at him and he had replaced the plates with some he swiped off an abandoned car. He doubted that anyone even took down the plate numbers. Peter knew that part three had to be done real soon. Once Balfano learned of Traver’s death, he would put one and one together and come after Peter. He didn’t much relish meeting up with Balfano or his thugs once he was compromised. Instead, he would meet them before Balfano knew.
Peter returned the rental van and drove off in his car. Around 11:45 AM he entered Rialto’s Restaurant and sat at the bar. He ordered a beer and some food. In the mirror he saw Balfano enter and head straight to his personal table. Thank God for people with habits, thought Peter. Balfano ate lunch there every day and spent enough money to have his very own table. Peter picked at his food over the next half hour and ordered a second beer. Suddenly Peter saw Balfano get up and head to the men’s room. Peter carefully slid off the bar stool and headed after Balfano. As he passed Balfano’s table, the two goons looked at him. Peter was doing a fake shuffle walk and was partially bent over using a walker. The goons only glanced at him and went back to eating their food. Nice disguise, thought Peter. No one gives a shit about old, frail men using a walker.
Peter shuffled into the bathroom. Balfano was peeing into the urinal and glanced back at him and turned away. Nothing like a white beard and long white hair, thought Peter. He looked nothing like he did during the trial. Balfano looked down and started to zip up his fly. Peter had already pulled out the Glock 45 with its silencer. The latter had cost him a lot in the bar black market, but it was worth it. He fired into the back of Balfano’s head. The only noise was a loud pop. Balfano went down like a ton of bricks. Peter said, “That one’s for Muriel. I hope you rot in hell.” As he walked by the bar, he handed the bartender a fifty and said keep the change. The bartender smiled and said “Thanks!” Peter shuffled out the front door. He turned and looked back to see one of the goons getting up from the table to check on what was keeping Balfano. Peter went into a fast trot as soon as he got past the window. He passed the alley and threw the walker into a dumpster. He would be long gone before the goons came out running after him.
Peter contacted the Blue Flu virus a week later. He knew his days were numbered. He had planned for it. Given the virus threat, it wasn’t hard to buy something on the street to assist a suicide. He had written up all his actions against those responsible for Muriel’s injustice. He dropped the envelope into the mail box. The envelope went to the Boston Globe. This entry is based on their records. Peter went home and swallowed the cyanide capsule and climbed into bed. When the police came to arrest him, he was found dead in bed with a blue cast. The police were wearing their masks and latex gloves and touched nothing. They backed out of the house and spray-painted a big red X on the front door. The disposal wagon would make its rounds later. The death certificate listed Peter Garber’s cause of death as the Blue Flu virus, given his blue skin coloration.
Not all people were out only for themselves or revenge. Examples of working for the common good also arose spontaneously in many places in the United States. Often these occurred in areas noted for being described with words such as blighted, run down, and impoverished. Areas like Harlem and the Bronx in New York, Watts in California and Hough in Ohio fared far better than was expected. Other places that fared better than average were small towns and small cities scattered across the United States, especially in the Midwest, Northeast, Northwest, Alaska, and the South. The more rural and less populated states had far fewer deaths from the virus or riots. The more rural an area, the more likely cooperative efforts arose. Local leaders arose and worked with others to patrol their neighborhoods, preventing entry and thus limiting spread of the virus. These actions prevented looting and arson and likely saved many lives and infrastructure.
Groups worked together to help the elderly and sick, bringing them food and news. Houses where the sick were located were marked and the food was left on the doorstep. If the food wasn’t picked up, efforts were made to establish contact by phone or talking through the door. The last resort was some brave soul donning protective clothing and a mask and entering. If the inhabitants were sick, they did what they could to make them comfortable. If they were deceased, the house was sealed up and marked. The suited volunteer was sprayed with bleach and went to a designated isolation house where the suit was removed. Then they washed their hands and face thoroughly with hand sanitizer. The volunteer stayed there for a week and if symptom free, returned to the community. Most of the volunteers were fine. They were referred to as angels and the gossip was that God protected the angels. These efforts accounted for much of the difference in the average global death rate, 50%, versus the United States at 25%.
Unfortunately, not everything went well with all the cities. While the military kept cities tightly bottled up, some people in desperation tried to escape. It was not possible, as the deck was stacked against them. The soldiers were equipped with the best night and day optical systems available. Spotters on buildings kept watch and helicopters circled overhead using infrared sensing devices. There was also a second ring after the blockade. If a vehicle managed to over-run the checkpoint blockade, the second one would be ready and shoot to kill, no questions asked. A final stopping point was the helicopters. They were equipped with heat seeking air to ground missiles that would incinerate any vehicle below that evaded the two blockades. Cleanup and recovery was the hardest task. Seeing dead men, women and children in shot-up or blown-up vehicles took its psychological toll. While the soldiers understood the necessity of protecting areas beyond the cities from the virus, it was still a gut wrenching experience. Some of the soldiers needed counseling for years afterwards. These same helicopters were also called into play when any type of riot started. While quite effective in stopping the mayhem and sending a message that riots would not be tolerated, collateral damage was often high. Resentment simmered for years afterwards.
The video no
w switched to the Church of the Forgiven in the Bronx. Reverend Jeremiah was ecstatic. The time had come for their deliverance from the plague. He knew it was right because God came to him in his dream last night and said, “Take your people to safety, for the testing of humankind is now upon us.” His animal care contact, Hiram Wilker, had informed him that the zoo was not only closed, but down to a skeleton crew of animal feeders. Some of the staff had become sick, causing the rapid disappearance of most workers. The Director decided to leave and authorized the skeleton crew to take care of things and inform him on a daily basis on status. Hiram had convinced the other two men to join them in their God given survival. They had readily agreed. Their families would be on the bus as would be Jeremiah’s ex-wife and children.
The word had gone out for the big rigs to come to the church and load up that afternoon. Word had also reached the parishioners through bell signals, phones and in some cases, door to door. The school buses were arriving soon and they would depart with passengers at 3:00 am. Officer Buford Kidd had gotten the graveyard shift. He would lead the possession of supply trucks now, then return and later at 3:00 AM lead the bus caravan. Hopefully, the hour would find the streets deserted and they would not attract much attention. If they did, a cover story had been improvised. If the trucks were stopped, Officer Kidd would tell the Guard or other cops that they were on their way to set up another isolation center. That story would be believable, as rumors were flying about so many people in the City being sickened that space had run out at the hospitals and other isolation areas. Just in case, they would show the fancy signs they painted claiming the Bronx Zoo was now an isolation center. For good measure, they could open a truck or two that contained the sleeping bags, mattresses and medical supplies.
At midnight the truck convoy left, to be replaced by arriving buses of all types. The trucks took the less traveled side streets. Near their destination, they had to go through a major intersection. Sure enough, the Guard had a check point manned by two men with a third manning a machine gun emplacement. Officer Kidd stopped, signaling all the trucks to do the same. Private Singh approached. “State your purpose and destination.” Officer Kidd answered. “We are the advance placement team to set up a new isolation site at the Bronx Zoo. All sites are overwhelmed and we have busloads of sick people coming through after us.” He reached the sign next to him and showed it to Private Singh. “You are welcome to check the cargo, if you wish. I’ll get out and open the truck loading doors for your inspection.” Private Singh was sweating inside his breathing gear. The idea of touching or going near these trucks and drivers worried him. Perhaps these guys had accidental contact with the people who were going into isolation. I don’t want to take any unnecessary chances, he thought. “No, that won’t be necessary. When will the buses come through?” Officer Kidd responded. “Between 3:00 to 4:00am.” Private Singh waived them through. He thought that he would keep as much distance as possible between himself and the buses when they came. No sense taking any chances.
The convoy approached the gates which were locked. Jefferson Pratt, parishioner and zoo janitor, stepped out of one of the trucks and walked to the gate. He had keys and opened the gate. As soon as all the trucks were in, he hung the Bronx Zoo Isolation Center sign with its skull and crossbones on the gate. He would gather the other signs and do the same for all the gates. The signs would do their job. No one would want to check on anything there. The men started unloading the trucks and bringing materials to the administration building and cafeteria. Once the buses came, there would be more people to finish the job. Around 3:45 am, the buses arrived and were let in. They had passed through the Guard check point with a rapid wave of the hand. Jeremiah was mightily pleased. Everything was going according to God’s plan. He just knew that the Rapture would come and give them entry to God’s paradise.
Across the United States, many prison wardens got the same idea. Prisons were ideal places to ride out the threat from the Blue Flu virus. They were generally isolated from urban populations. They could be placed in lock-down mode to exclude visitors. Entry was very limited and easy to secure. Guard posts at entry gates could easily keep people out. Not that many people want to enter prisons. Many wardens stocked up on supplies as soon as word of the Blue Flu virus emerged. Guards and other staff were offered the chance to stay there as their temporary home with immediate families allowed there with them. Most grabbed the opportunity, joining the warden and his or her family. Conditions were a bit crowded, but the risk of getting the virus was negligible, as long as security wasn’t breached. Many prisons would survive the growing contagion.
Many of the upper echelon people, government officials and people of great wealth and power, fled to their mountain retreats in highly isolated areas, underground bunkers, and self-contained underground communities. Earlier rather than later was the keyword. The rich and powerful that waited too long found themselves living under martial law and travel restrictions. The underground communities typically held 200 people with supplies lasting several months and were fed with filtered air. Small underground bunkers and mountain hide-a-ways started at $300,000 and ran up to 20 million dollars. Ridiculously small places in underground communities went for hundreds of thousand dollars. Most of the people who went that route survived. Those that didn’t failed to reckon with determined individuals who knew of these places through construction or maintenance activities. Some knew of the sites from hiking and backpacking trips. When those individuals got there first, the later and rightful owners did not fare so well. While money talked, it didn’t protect you from a hail of gunfire or the wrath of those at the lower end of the socioeconomic ladder. Of course, a few turned out to be scams. Some of the underground communities were only partially finished construction and the supplies were minimal. As is always the case, there was no shortage of individuals out to make money off of human misery.
One elaborate twist of the escape venues were the exclusive ski resorts such as those found in Colorado and the Swiss Alps. These sites were only accessible by snow cats, skis or snow shoes. In addition they were protected by security forces, usually local police who were allowed to stay at the lodge for this special viral isolation package. As such their protective isolation was a major selling point in that it didn’t offer vectors for the virus. Their owners at the very onset of the first news leaks about the Blue Flu virus sold placements in these locations for obscene amounts. Still, there was no shortage of applicants. The only catch was you had to wire your 50% cash down payment for a minimum of four weeks, get there fast, and pay the rest on arrival. You also had to stay in quarantine for a few weeks to make sure you had not contracted the virus. If you didn’t make it there, the deposit was non-refundable. No records were kept and likely no taxes were paid. All parties called it an unqualified success.
Afterwards, there was considerable resentment against the rich people who escaped to their various hideaways. Often they came back to looted, trashed, and burned luxury homes. There was no one to complain to, no one to arrest, and no insurance company payout. Insurance companies had simply crashed during those difficult times. The rich became poor just like the rest of humanity that survived. There was one positive note; a more equal society was to rise from the ashes.
6. VIDEO: THE INCIDENT, MONTHS TWO AND THREE, PI
VIDEO: THE INCIDENT. Now the scene shifted back to John Cabrot’s office in Area 51. John was intently peering at the computer screen. It was a week ago that the clinical trials of Diminaflu were started by the team headed by Dr. Miller. Results were not looking positive. To date, fatalities were extremely high and not significantly different from the control group. Only a handful of survivors occurred with the Diminaflu. Unfortunately, a similar number was found in the control group. It was looking like Diminaflu was not helpful in the curing of the Blue Flu virus. John knew he should let the study proceed for at least ten days. He would do that, but he doubted that it would make any difference.
His mind wandered to more
pleasant thoughts. The only bright spot to date was that his relationship with Nurse Roberta Harrington had grown so much closer over the last few weeks. Their love for each other blossomed rapidly and so they decided to get married. The two of them had slipped off to Las Vegas under the guise of needing some therapeutic R&R, given the intensity of the battle to understand the Blue Flu. They had gotten married just as he had envisioned some time ago. Both had decided to keep the marriage a secret for now. It didn’t seem right that their colleagues should make a fuss over them during these grim times. Suddenly John’s mind snapped back to reality and the video.
So, if Diminaflu hadn’t saved him, what had? John was no closer to an answer than he was when he launched Teams A and B to tackle the virus and clinical trials. The situation was not looking good. He sent an email to Dr. Miller’s Blackberry. “Ralph, I want you to do a thorough comparative analysis on the survivors in the control and Diminaflu group. Then compare them against me. Look at all variants, complete blood profiles, antibodies, age, overall health, previous diseases, current and past medications, and anything else you can think of. If some commonality exists for all these survivors, let me know as soon as possible. Oh, and stay well. Don’t take any chances.”
Next he paged Dr. Gupta. When he answered, John said, “I want a complete update on where you are regarding the viral properties. Please come by my office at 2:00 PM this afternoon. Bring whatever data you have. See you later.” Looking at other figures, John noted that roughly 10% of the population in New York and Los Angeles had died already from the Blue Flu virus. That was 3.5 million people. Still, it could be much worse, thought John. The other major cities were doing better and the rural areas had yet to be impacted. The use of face masks to avoid inhaling particles containing viruses from sneezes and coughs of infected people, washing hands with hand sanitizer or vigorous soaping after touching pretty much anything, and not touching the eyes, nose, or mouth was keeping the spread of the virus somewhat limited. These simple steps were shown on one minute spots on television and they appeared on the internet, radios, billboards, subway station signs, and even the sides of buses. They appeared to be working, at least for now. To date there had only been a few small riots in the United States that were easily controlled by the National Guard and local police. Other countries in the Third World had not been so fortunate.
The Manhattan Incident Page 20