Apokalypsis Book One

by Kate Morris

  There were gasps in the audience from reporters, but he kept going.

  “Today we completed work on a website that you can visit later for more information at www.RFUSA.org. There you can find information about symptoms, every state, county, and city in America that has been affected. The data will be updated hourly on the site to keep the American people informed. We strongly urge people to use the site and stay abreast so that you all may take the correct precautionary measures.”

  He paused, took a sip of water from a clear glass, and continued.

  “Behind me,” he said, pointing to a screen that rolled down off to his left, “I’ll go over the symptoms and differences between RF1 and 2.” He used a pointer stick to follow along. “With the RF1 virus, the symptoms started out as this: One: Low-grade fevers and nausea, sometimes vomiting. Two: irrational and sometimes erratic patient behavior, even bordering on somewhat violent. You will notice that the patient’s eyes have become extremely bloodshot in this stage, and their fevers begin to rise. This is where we saw a split in the mutation between viruses 1 and 2. RF1 patients at this point in the duration would become comatose and either recover within twenty-four to forty-eight hours or succumb to the disease through organ failure. We called this the incubation period.” He paused and took a breath. “However, after treating patients with a new anti-viral vaccine we developed for RF1, RF2 was born and mutated to protect itself and survive. We do not have a vaccine for RF2 and do not see one being developed for at least a few months at the minimum. When we try to vaccinate RF1 patients, the virus almost immediately mutates into RF2. So, essentially, our vaccine was rendered unusable. This is unprecedented.”

  “In a few months, it’ll be way too late,” Roman said, then felt bad he did so because Jane began biting her thumbnail.

  “We are no longer seeing the comas in the RF2 patients at all. But, what we are observing seems to be a protection state for the virus where the patient suffers irreversible brain damage. We believe it could be as a result of the much higher fevers than RF1, which also do not respond to fever reducers. The fevers with RF2 do not subside but continue to climb and sustain at a nearly constant rate. They are coupled with extremely violent behavior, erratic mood changes, and instincts that could be called at best- basic survival mode. Their speech patterns no longer resemble those of a normal person. Their hearing is exceptionally strong for some reason. Their vision, however, is worse. They are also fast and strong, those who survive. The infected persons are without emotion essentially. We see behavior like this in serial killers, and they have the patterned behavior of schizophrenia coupled with bipolar and paranoia. One doctor referenced it was like he was dealing with a patient who had psychotic episodes who was coming down from a drug overdose. They have a complete lack of reasoning skills, empathy, regret, or sorrow. They should be considered more dangerous than patients with RF1. They should also be considered a threat to your safety and to the safety of those in your family. One last thing we should cover is that they seem more active at night. During the day, some are still active, but they become measurably more active at night. We believe them to be what you would call nocturnal. And we aren’t sure yet if it’s because they are hiding during the day or hibernating. We estimate that nearly a hundred thousand Americans alone have lost their lives to the RF1 virus and that nearly eight-hundred thousand have died from RF2. This is highly contagious and nearly always fatal.”

  “Good Lord,” Jane remarked as Roman forced himself to blink. This seemed even worse than he had thought. “Those aren’t the numbers they were reporting just yesterday.”

  “Wait a minute. I thought that was a worldwide count. That’s just here in America? He’s not telling us the total number worldwide on purpose,” Roman said.

  “We have seen some recovery from RF2, however. It occurs between the second and third phase. The fevers spike and eventually burn out as the patient’s own immune system attacks it. It happens in the first twenty-four hours but has been known to go as late as the thirty-sixth hour. If they do not recover and break the fever by then, I’m afraid the damage is irreversible at that point. The patient, however, must be restrained to prevent injury to themselves or others. Right now, from what we’ve calculated from actual patients, there is a less than twenty percent survival rate from RF2.”

  “Oh, my,” Peaches remarked.

  “However, if a patient has contracted RF1 or 2 and survived, then they will have immunity to the other and will not become symptomatic again.” He paused and looked at the camera. “At first, there were rumors being spread about restraining the patient until the fevers passed and that would somehow fix it. That is not true at all. Please, do not resort to this. As a matter of fact, do not attempt to approach the infected. This is going to be difficult for some of you to hear, especially if your family members are already suffering in medical facilities from RF2. We’re doing everything we can, but we must move the sick and infected to specific quarantined areas if they have not already been moved to one. The locations will be listed on the website. Visitors will not be permitted because of the high contagion risk. We cannot treat this many sick people in our nation’s hospitals. There simply isn’t enough room…”

  “The football field,” Jane commented. “That explains that.”

  “Right,” Roman agreed.

  “…we are also taking an unprecedented approach due to the fast spread of this sickness and will be releasing all non-violent offenders from the federal prison systems and condensing violent offenders into specific prisons. We know this will be an inconvenience to those who have family members in our federal prison systems, but we have no choice in the matter. We must house the RF2 infected patients somewhere where they will not be a threat to the public or themselves until which time we have formulated a cure.”

  “Whoa,” Roman said.

  “…if there is not a federal prison in the area, and we need more room, we will temporarily use public school buildings and courthouses.”

  “There goes senior year,” he said.

  “…if you go to work, please stop temporarily. If you go to school, you will no longer report in. Our public school system is also being temporarily shut down until this is able to be controlled. Most schools and public buildings are being sanitized as we speak. It is imperative if you or someone you know has this flu, you immediately report to a hospital or medical site as soon as possible so as not to infect others. If you must go out in public, please wear the face masks and rubber gloves available at every medical site, pharmacy, police station, and hospital in your area as they have all received shipments of those care of our military. We recommend for the time being not going out unless it is of the utmost importance. This virus is not only transferred by touch, but it is also airborne. At this time, we will not be able to perform immunity tests as it would take our researchers and healthcare workers away from patients who need care. Prevention is the best medicine in this situation.”

  “So, potentially we could be immune but won’t know,” Jane remarked.

  “I guess so,” Roman said.

  “…there is still much to go over, but anything I haven’t answered should be available on the website,” he said and repeated the site’s address. “At this time, I’ll introduce you to General Allerton to discuss the military’s role in this.”

  The general was a lot less informal, looked very stern, and gave his speech from notecards. He introduced himself again and gave the website address before beginning.

  “Most of you have probably noticed an increased military presence in or around your communities. We are moving the National Guard and all stateside personnel into motion to aid the healthcare and government workers with whatever they need. We will be working as a joint task force with local and state police and government to keep the peace and maintain a civil society.”

  He paused and looked down.

  “Some of you are wondering if we are declaring martial law and I would like to put that issue to rest.
However, that being said, we will be acting as a police force to help local law enforcement when and where they need us. The FBI and Homeland Security will be doing the same to aid in the public’s best interest to keep our communities safe. We will not be disarming the citizens of the United States. If you legally own a firearm, keep it. You have the right to protect yourself and your families. However, if you think you are going to loot and rob stores because of this pandemic, you are wrong and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

  “How would they possibly keep everyone under control?” Jane asked.

  Roman didn’t answer because he’d been thinking the same thing.

  “This great nation may be fragile right now, but we will persevere and overcome any threat foreign or domestic. If you see a crime, report it to the military or local police. We will have a strong presence in your communities. Stay vigilant. Stay home if you can like the doctor was saying. Don’t put yourself in a dangerous situation if you can avoid it.”

  He talked for a while longer and finally stepped back so the press could ask questions. The first one was just as idiotic as Roman thought it might be.

  “Is this a zombie apocalypse?” a female reporter shouted, not waiting her turn.

  The doctor stepped back up to the podium and said, “No, ma’am,” he said. “There is no such thing as zombies. Reanimation of life is impossible. These infected RF2 patients are strong, radically so, and are a threat to your safety, but they are not zombies. They will and can die the same as you or I. They are just sick people.”

  Another reporter hollered, “Will they bite us to infect us? Do they eat people?”

  “No, and no,” he answered patiently. “They do not bite people. They do, however, infect others just like anyone else with the flu could, through physical contact and now through the air. Your safest bet is to avoid them.”

  “Do you have to shoot them in the brain?” another moron asked, irking Roman that they were wasting valuable time asking more zombie questions.

  “No, sir,” the doctor answered. “They are just as capable of being killed as any other human being. They exhibit psychotic behavior and will harm you if they can but don’t need to be stabbed or shot in the brain.”

  The general stepped in to add, “Just restrain them if you find one and report it to the police or someone in the military.”

  “If we aren’t allowed to go to the grocery store, how do we get food?” someone called out.

  The general answered this one, too, “The military will be making deliveries of food and medical supplies that you’ll be able to pick up at your medical site. We will also control the routing of trucks and supplies to your local grocery stores for the time being, until next week when we’ll take the items to a distribution center. Those are being worked out right now and the sites posted on the website by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

  “So, we’ll be given rations?” the same reporter asked.

  “Yes, the military will hand out food and medical supplies,” he answered. “As of tomorrow afternoon, government offices will also suspend operation temporarily. Food manufacturing plants will remain open and the items shipped to stores with military escorts to ensure safety and to prevent contamination.”

  “This isn’t going to go well,” Peaches remarked as the general explained the operation in detail.

  “Why do you say that, Nana?”

  She said, “Because anytime the government controls food, people starve. They’re taking away free market. We’d be better off trading for things for a while.”

  Roman nodded in agreement but didn’t comment.

  “…when will you have a vaccine to prevent this, Doctor?” a reporter called out of turn.

  “We’re looking at weeks, perhaps a month or maybe longer. The virus already transformed itself once. We can’t afford for it to do that again before we get this figured out.”

  “How do you expect people to avoid the public for a month or two or three or however long you’re suggesting?” one of them shouted angrily.

  “Hand washing, masks, gloves. Those will be essential,” he said. “I would even go so far as to say not to be around people you haven’t been exposed to before. If you aren’t sure of someone, stay back. They could be infected. If they have RF2 and have passed phase one and two, you could be in danger not just from contracting the sickness but for your life. Steering clear of the unknown- that will be your key to safety from the RF2 patients who have not been rounded up yet and the possible spread of infection to yourself.”

  “What’s that mean?” Jane asked in a rush. “What’s he mean? Does he mean that there are infected people like Caleb just out there roaming the streets? How?”

  Roman came around the couch and sat next to her. “There has to be. That’s why I didn’t want you going to the riding stables by yourself. Think about all the people in the world who don’t have relatives to take them to a hospital site or the homeless or people who just live alone. Or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Or infected people who have killed everyone in their family and left their homes. They’re going to be everywhere.”

  “Oh, my gosh,” she said softly.

  “We need to stay together now. Safety in numbers,” he told them both. Her grandmother didn’t reply but was looking at him with eyes that let Roman know she was contemplating his character. He hoped he wasn’t sounding like an idiot.

  “…what do RF1 and 2 mean? What are the initials for? We’re hearing conflicting reports!” one of the male reporters yelled out next.

  The no-nonsense general stepped in to answer, “We have confirmation that the Russians have released this as a biological weapon. It stands for Russian flu. The CIA found their lab, detained and questioned their doctors and scientists and confirmed that it came from tampering with existing and known flu compounds to weaponize them against Americans. The facility was a hidden base of operations in the Sudan region of Africa, which is how it was first spread there. It quickly grew out of their control.”

  “Are we going to war with Russia now?” someone called.

  “No comment,” the general answered evasively.

  “Oh, dear,” Jane said.

  The press couldn’t get an answer on that from the general, so they just kept circling back to zombie questions until the doctor and general made their escape out the door near the podium. Roman didn’t blame them. Most of the media were idiots. Then the regular twenty-four-hour news channel hosts came on with a panel to discuss it in overkill mode. Her grandmother muted them, for which Roman was relieved.

  “I think Roman is right,” her grandmother said and stood up to stoke the fire. “We need to stick together. It might be the only way we survive it.

  “I think so, ma’am,” he said. “There aren’t many of us, but we should band together to survive until this can be resolved.”

  “You’re smarter than that, son,” she remarked as she turned. “I’m going to make us some hot tea.”

  He knew what she meant, but Jane did not because she gave him a funny look.

  “I don’t think your grandmother thinks this is going to get better or be resolved anytime soon. Neither do I.”

  This caused her to scowl with worry, so Roman wrapped his arm around her shoulders to offer comfort.

  They chatted with Peaches for another hour, made plans for the next day, and Jane walked him out to his car.

  “Roman,” Jane said and stepped closer to him.

  “What is it?” he asked, reading the fear in her eyes.

  She reached through his open jacket for his shirt and gripped the material in the middle of his chest with her fingertips, “I-I’m scared.”

  Roman scowled with frustration. He didn’t want her to feel this way, but he wasn’t too confident in the situation, either. He slipped his arms around her back and pulled her close, enveloping her in his jacket, too. “I know. It’s gonna be okay.”

  “Is it?”

  “We
stay together. No matter what. No matter what happens to anyone else. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her. He’d already made up his mind after watching that second kook network program with the secret-revealing doctor behind the screen. If this was all he was going to be given with Jane, then he’d take it. He’d stick by her until the end, whether that was soon or years from now.

  She nodded against his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her sweet-smelling head.

  “Get some sleep. Lock the doors. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said and backed up.

  Jane nodded and reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment. Not a plague. Not the end of the world. That peck on the cheek was enough to keep him going. He smiled and got into his car. Then he waved to her to go inside. Roman didn’t leave until he saw the porch light go out.

  When he arrived back home, his father was arguing on the phone with his mother. Apparently, the flights were all booked for tonight, which he was urging her to catch. She’d have to wait until tomorrow’s scheduled flight to return home.

  Then he and his father sat at the dining table and catalogued everything they owned for food and weapons. Food, they were good on for at least a few weeks, maybe as many as four. Weapons, they were short on with only the one pistol being what his father owned. He said he was going to try and buy a few more guns tomorrow. He even told Roman he had a friend who was a big collector of historical firearms and that he would try to pay him enough to get one or two.

  He went to bed after midnight and after re-watching the broadcast with the doctor and general again. He couldn’t sleep. He found himself checking every few hours on the little farmhouse over the brick fence standing all alone and out in the open.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  At dawn, he and his father took Connor over to Miss Barnes, who opened her home to them and served them breakfast again, this time sweet cinnamon rolls she’d made in the oven. It hit the spot and gave him a jolt of energy coupled with the cup of black coffee he’d accepted when offered.