by RB Stutz
“Well, I’ll make the introductions. Michael, this is James,” Dr. Roberts motioned to a slight pale man just to the right of me.
He closed the gap between us with his hand stretched forward. “Hello Michael. It’s good to meet another one of the clueless,” he smirked.
He was about a head shorter than me. James’ hair was a light brown color, cut short and he had dark brown eyes. There was an effort of a mustache that needed to be put out of its misery. I’m not sure what the smirk was for, it seemed out of place, but I took his hand and shook it.
“It’s good to meet you as well,” I said. James stepped back.
A girl with pale skin and shoulder length light blonde hair stepped forward. She was a little shorter than me as well, but tall for a girl. “This is Sara.”
Sara smiled, but it seemed forced, as if she was trying to hide her fear. Her eyes, an exquisite blue color, looked worried. She was beautiful and I caught myself staring. She laughed. “Don’t worry. None of us know what’s going on either,” she said misinterpreting my gaze.
She put forward her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Michael.”
“It is nice to meet you too,” I said a little embarrassed as I took her hand.
Sara stepped aside and a shorter bronze skinned girl with short raven colored hair approached.
“Hi, I’m Rachael; well at least I’ve been told my name is Rachael.” She had on a crooked smile and her voice had a light Latin accent.
I reached for her hand and shook it.
“I don’t know about you, but if they don’t give us some sort of reason for holding us here soon, there’s going to be hell to pay,” she said.
Rachael seemed to be older than the rest, maybe closer to seventeen or eighteen. I wasn’t fooled by her petite form, pretty face and big light brown eyes. The impression I got was wronging her would lead to a lifetime of regretting you did so.
“Now that you’re here, maybe they’ll finally tell us what the hell is going on,” she said looking slyly at Dr. Roberts.
“That will all be coming soon enough,” Dr. Roberts said.
“Well nice to meet you,” I said in a friendly tone.
“And this is Alex.” Dr. Roberts pointed to the last stranger in the room. He was probably an inch or two taller than me with dark chocolate skin, short hair and brown eyes.
He approached with his hand stretched forward and a face void of expression. “Hey,” he said in a deep monotone voice.
“Hello.” I shook his hand. His grip was so tight, it hurt my hand. Not that I'd let my pain show. After all, I had my pride.
Alex let go of my hand and he stepped back.
“Ok, that wasn’t awkward,” said James with a short laugh.
“A little,” I said.
Dr. Roberts didn’t acknowledge the comment.
“So what’s with the weird introductions?” Rachael asked Dr. Roberts.
“You all have something in common and today as promised, we will provide you with answers as to what that is. I know you are all curious on how you got here, why your memory is gone and why you have been held with no information as of yet. I really would like to thank you for being patient with us, especially those of you who have been awake for a couple of weeks. I’m sure it has been difficult, not knowing who you are and not being able to remember anything prior to waking.” Dr. Roberts said in an almost robotic manner.
“Please, could you all take a seat in the front row?” Dr. Roberts asked politely with her open hand stretched towards the front of the room. “A few others will be joining us shortly so please have a seat while we wait.”
I shuffled over with the rest of the group to the front row. I was the last to sit on the far right of the row, next to Sara. I’d made it point to sit next to Sara. Based on the brief introductions and my sense of her, she seemed to be someone I might be the most comfortable talking to and initially getting to know.
Even though I didn’t know who I was, there were things I just knew and felt about the kind of person I was. I couldn’t tell you my name or where I was born, but I could tell you the type of things that would make me comfortable or uncomfortable. I could tell the type of person I would get along with well or confide in. Somehow I instinctively knew Sara was someone I would really get along with. Of course it could have been because she was really cute.
Sara was the first to enter the row of seats, so I casually walked around the front to the other side. She saw me and left an open seat at the end. I congratulated myself on my slickness as I sat next to her.
“How are you feeling?” Sara asked as I sat. I could see James, who was on her other side listening.
“I’m feeling better than I did when I first woke a few days ago. I’m still a little shaky,” I said.
When I first awoke, I felt like absolute crap. It was like a light suddenly came on in my head, but too bright all at once. I tried to open my eyes, but when I did the intense brightness of the room was too much. My head throbbed intensely, compounded with the confusion of not knowing who or where I was. I think I was pretty doped up at that point. Once they started to bring down the dosage on the meds, the shakiness came. I guess it was my body’s reaction to withdrawal of whatever they had me on. The shakiness was still there, but it had greatly been reduced.
“I’ve been awake for a week now and just got rid of the shakiness yesterday. Whatever it was they put in us, my body was hooked on the stuff,” she said.
“Have they told you anything?” I asked.
“No. Not really. I’m sure you know as much as I do. All I’ve been told is I have just recovered from some illness that we were all exposed to and that they wanted to wait until we were strong enough to fill us in on the details.”
That’s what I was told as well. I didn’t think any of the others had any more information, but thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.
“They also said they’re not sure if our memory loss is temporary or permanent, that it’s a result of the illness,” she continued.
“That’s pretty much what I’ve been told as well,” I said.
After that, the room stayed quiet for what seemed like an endless amount of time even though it probably wasn’t more than a couple of minutes. We were five strangers in a really strange situation.
“So, some of you have been awake for a couple of weeks?” I asked the group, trying to break the awkward silence, plus I was curious. “That must have been horrible not knowing what was going on for so long. I’ve had a hard time with just the couple days I’ve been awake.”
“Yeah, Alex and I have both been awake for almost two weeks. James and Sara have been awake for six days. There wasn’t much we could do, not knowing exactly what our conditions were. I thought I was under some sort of quarantine due to the illness and they seemed to be taking care of us. Dr. Roberts has been friendly, but not especially helpful.” The last part Rachael said muffled under her breath as she glanced up at Dr. Roberts who was still in the front of the room, standing quietly.
Rachael continued. “We were locked in our rooms. I discovered this on day three when I wanted to get out and stretch my legs. I’d felt strong enough to get up, but I couldn’t get out.” She looked up at Dr. Roberts. “Our good doctor later explained due to security at this facility, we are not allowed to move about freely.”
“Sounds like a pile of crap to me,” Alex blurted out in his deep voice. “I feel like I have only been shoveled crap since I’ve been awake.”
“I guess you tell it how it is,” said James responding to his comments.
Dr. Roberts looked up when Alex spoke, but didn’t say anything.
My story was much the same. When I first woke, I was in a small hospital room with IV’s, fluid bags and several different monitors connected to me. I had no idea who or where I was or how I had gotten there.
Almost immediately, a nurse came in.
“So you’re awake?” She asked with a bright smile.
I’d tried to respond
in my drowsy confused state, but couldn’t. When I think back though, it was uncanny how fast the nurse had gotten there. I guess the monitors would alert them if I was awake or maybe the response wasn’t as fast as I had thought, but due to my state of mind it seemed that way. I guess it didn’t really matter.
“Just rest dear. You are weak. You need to rest to get stronger.” She said as she injected something, which I soon found to be a sedative, into the IV. Her image quickly faded as I went back to sleep.
When I woke for the second time I remember, I was more alert. The nurse came in and told me I should be feeling a bit better now.
“I do.” I said, now able to respond. “Where am I?”
“In a hospital,” is all she said.
“I don’t remember anything,” I said, trying to get more of a response.
“I know. Dr. Roberts will be in soon.” She checked the IV and left. Her bedside manner wasn’t exactly top-notch.
So I waited, and a couple hours later Dr. Roberts came in to see me.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Better, but still weak.”
“Your body is recovering. I’ll have the nurse try and get you up to start walking around the room in a couple hours. You need to work your muscles back into strength.”
“Why am I here?” I asked.
“You were the victim of a terrible illness, almost fatal. You were brought here at the point of death. We were able to treat and cure your condition,” she explained.
“Why don’t I remember anything?” I continued, hoping for more answers.
“It’s, unfortunately, a residual effect of the illness. We’re not sure if it’s temporary or long-term. There are others here who had the same condition and were also cured. Everyone suffers the same memory loss.”
“There are a lot of details to go over. We’ll give you more information when you get stronger. Give us some time,” she said and nothing else.
During what was mostly silence as we were waiting on whoever it was we were waiting on, I noticed Dr. Roberts shuffling through notes and trying to look busy as she made several casual glances at us here and there, quick so we wouldn’t notice her.
“I’ll be right back,” Dr. Roberts said as she stepped out of the conference room.
“All I can say is there better be a damn good reason to have kept us locked up with no information,” Alex said to the rest of us once she was out of the room. “They’re really starting to piss me off, not answering any of my questions. I have a right to know who I am, where I am, what the hell happened to me.”
“Settle down there big guy,” James said belittling Alex.
Of the four people, I would rate James the lowest on the first impression scale. He seemed very confident and way too comfortable with the situation. If I had to write in his yearbook and predict his most likely profession, it would have been a used car salesman, the really smarmy kind.
“We all feel the same way. Let’s see if they can explain themselves first before we start throwing punches,” James added.
“Boy, I don’t know you?” Alex thundered, slamming his fists on the table. I felt Sara jump slightly. “Even if I did, you damn well better not call me something like big guy.”
“Sorry man.” James backpedaled with his hands in the air still with a smug look on his face. Part of me thought it would be entertaining to see Alex’s fist wipe it off, but just a little part of me.
“Whatever’s going on here, we are in it together,” Sara piped in trying to ease the tension in the room. “We may need each other’s help.”
“Yeah, and James, don’t be a jerk,” Rachael added.
At that, we continued to sit in silence. I glanced over at Sara and caught her as she was looking at me. Her soft pale cheeks turned a slight rose color. She smiled. I returned the smile and turned back to the front of the room. A few minutes later the door to the conference room opened and Dr. Roberts walked in with two men and a woman dressed in green military dress uniforms.
CHAPTER 6
“Good morning everyone,” one of the men greeted us. He stood behind the podium on the wide platform at the front of the room. “My name is Colonel Caldwell. You all have been waiting very patiently for us to explain what has happened to you and why you are here now. I apologize for the information delay and I thank you for your patience. I’m sure you have a lot of questions for us. Today we will be able to give you some answers to those questions.”
Col. Caldwell was a tall, middle aged white man with short brown hair peppered with some grey. His chiseled facial features along with his large stature helped him present himself to us with an air of confidence and authority.
The others sat on four chairs set behind the podium.
“To my right is Lieutenant Masters.” Caldwell said pointing to the very military looking woman to his right. She smiled slightly and nodded her head as she was introduced. Probably in her early twenties, she was athletically built and an average height for a woman. Her short brown hair rested on top of a pale sculpted face. She continued to smile at the group as Caldwell continued.
“To my left is Master Sergeant Batton.” Caldwell said gesturing to the other uniformed man. Batton nodded his head in acknowledgment with a stoic closed face. He was a bull of a man, towering over the others on the podium, and his uniform barely fit over his slabs of arm and chest muscles. He too had brown hair and sharply chiseled pale face.
“And of course you all know Dr. Roberts.” He continued directing his arm towards Dr. Roberts who was standing next to Masters. Dr. Roberts nodded with the recognition.
Caldwell remained standing while the others sat down.
“Let’s start with why you are at this facility,” he began. He continued on into an hour long briefing, explaining how we came to be at the facility which we soon came to know as the HUB.
He explained each of us, along with thousands of other Americans, contracted a lethal virus that was, at the time of infection, of an unknown type and origin. After one contracted the virus, there was only a forty-eight hour incubation period before the first signs of infection would appear. Visible symptoms started with a purple bruise-like rash on the abdomen before rapidly advancing across the rest of the body. In a matter of twenty-four hours the rash covered the entire body. A severe burning sensation followed the spread of the rash, causing a fierce agony for the infected, while simultaneously, weakening the internal organs. The whole process, once the first signs appeared, was only a thirty hour window.
The screen over the podium showed an image of a bare abdomen with what looked like a small violet bruise just above the naval. The next image showed the full body of a man, unclothed, lying on a bed. The rash was now covering his entire abdomen ending just below the neck and right above the knees. The man’s face was a portrait of intense suffering. A few seconds later he moved on to a third image that showed the man’s entire body covered in a dark purple bruise. The man appeared to be screaming.
The images were horrifying and morbidly fascinating. It was humbling to be told that had happened to each of us. No one said anything regarding the images, but the silence was thick with shock and horror.
He explained when the first cases of infection appeared; no one had any idea what it was. The CDC had never seen anything like it and couldn’t link it to any other known viral strains. A national emergency was called and the whole country was put on alert. The American people were told once they knew of someone who started to show signs of infection; they immediately needed to contact the CDC. They were told there was no cure and in order to stop the spread of the virus, the infected needed to be immediately quarantined. Emergency quarantine facilities were set up all around the country. The infected were rounded up and isolated in these facilities to live out the remaining hours of their lives.
The CDC, as well as other governmental and commercial medical research organizations across the globe, was frantically working on ways to neutralize the virus. The viral strain
was so different from anything else ever seen and it took some time to develop anything to even try against it. As these groups worked, new cases of infection continued to be reported and people continued to die.
There wasn’t a consistent method of transmission anyone could identify. Geographically, people from all over the U.S. were infected, but their families and friends who they had contact with would not be and there were no cases reported outside of U.S. borders. Those who had contracted the virus didn’t appear to have any consistent traits that could shed any light on where the virus had come from or who the infection would target.
It wasn’t until three weeks after the virus had claimed its first victim that one of the domestic commercial medical research organizations was successful in killing the strain in an infected tissue sample. Considering the 100% mortality rate and the short gestation period, they quickly brought in one of the infected to test the potential cure. The patient who was brought in had shown the first signs of infection approximately twenty-two hours prior. The team administered the anti-virus, but it was neutralized by the active virus immediately.
Dr. Roberts was a part of that group and led the team who administered the anti-virus. When it didn’t neutralize the virus in the patient, her team scrambled to determine what was causing their “cure” to work in a live tissue sample, but not in a live person. They repeated the procedure several times on their dying test subject and kept trying up until his organs failed.
They thought their anti-virus was a bust, but then Dr. Roberts had an idea. She tried injecting the now deceased test subject again to see what the effect would be on his infected tissue once the heart had stopped pumping blood through the body. The virus was dead in the blood sample they subsequently took.
They immediately found another one of the infected who was right at twenty nine hours. The young woman was in horrible agony and all they could do was try and make her comfortable, waiting for her to go into cardiac arrest. Once she did, they immediately injected the anti-virus in order to give the heart a chance to spread it before complete failure. Once her heart stopped, they let thirty seconds pass and then began to resuscitate the woman. They were able to get her heart pumping again and breathing. She was unconscious, but alive.