“But how would it get here in the first place?”
“You’re a doctor Danny; you know bacteria tend to migrate.”
Shaking his head, Danny asks with a smirk “What’s it going to take to get you to consider that this isn’t a natural occurrence?”
“What’s it going to take to get you to consider that this is a natural occurrence?” she counters.
“Not much,” Danny falls into step behind Lynne as they begin to climb out of the cave. “Don’t take the question the wrong way; I’m not as gung-ho on the idea of bioterrorism as the good Dr. Rahlings.”
“Say let me ask you something,” Lynne looks back over her shoulder asking “What is the deal with Rahlings anyway?”
“You mean is he always such an asshole?”
Laughing Lynne nods her head conspiratorially “Yeah.”
“Don’t be too tough on him, he’s not really such a bad guy, he’s just…how do I put this?”
“A self-involved alpha male with a one-track mind.”
“A bottom line kind of guy,” Danny elaborates suppressing a grin “He’s always got an eye on the budget. And he knows that if this is bioterrorism than his budget is going to get a boost.”
“That’s terrible. This should be about saving lives not raising money.”
“That’s the marriage of science and government.” As they exit the warren of caves into the afternoon sunlight, Danny continues “I agree that it shouldn’t be that way, but the fact remains true. If this happens to be bioterrorism than the NIH budget will increase and because of it more projects will get funded and more lives will be saved.
“But you never answered my question.”
Lynne sets her samples in the back of the jeep and turns to look at him. In the breeze her hair is whipping around her head—thin strands fluttering in front of her face as she gives him a Cheshire grin.
“Come on,” Danny presses. “I answered you.”
“All right,” Lynne hooks a strand of hair away from her face with her finger. “I’ll consider that this might be bioterrorism when the evidence points me in that direction.”
“Isn’t it already pointing that way? I mean plague in Iowa and a resistant strain at that? Then there’s Markov too.”
“The problem with all that is that people see what they want to see. It’s entirely possible that plague has just migrated east. Resistance genes are swapped in nature all the time. And like I said before, there’s no evidence that Markov was a terrorist.”
Seeing that Danny is about to protest some more she continues “Let’s for argument’s sake assume that this is the work of a terrorist. If it were you—if you had access to this weaponized strain of plague—what would you do with it?”
“I suppose I’d use it.”
“Right,” Lynne says, “But the question is where? If you had this formidable weapon in your power would you really use it in Stillness Iowa? Wouldn’t it make more sense to release it in New York or Los Angeles or even Washington? Any city would be a more attractive target than a town with a population of three thousand.”
“Maybe it’s a test run?”
“You’re reaching Danny. Have you ever heard of a terrorist giving up the element of surprise for a test run? No, I’m convinced that whatever this turns out to be, it won’t be terrorism.”
“You’re that confident?” Danny asks as he walks around to the driver’s side door of the jeep.
“It just doesn’t add up.”
Omaha, Nebraska
It just doesn’t add up.
Shaking his head, Kazim El Said flips his cell phone shut. Two days ago he was given the news that Tesla used his credit card to purchase a used car—in Omaha.
Before that transaction and since there’s been no activity whatsoever on any of his accounts.
So why did he use his card for that purchase?
The thought nags at him, tickling the back of his mind like an irritating itch he can’t quite scratch.
There’s something else going on here. This man is smarter than that. He proved that by giving me the slip at that motel. He knew enough to pay the clerk to keep silent.
So how could he not know enough to not use his credit card?
But he did know, didn’t he? He paid for the room with cash. He never even withdrew funds from his bank account meaning he knew we’d find him that way.
Was he just desperate for wheels and a means to put distance between himself and us?
Maybe…
The ringing of his cell phone intrudes upon his thoughts. “Yes?”
“Where are you?”
The familiar voice holds no trace of warmth.
Kazim looks out the windshield of his rented Suburban. The highway he’s parked on is quiet and reserved. Each of the houses is set far back from the road, such that none would notice him sitting there.
“I’m outside Omaha. I don’t believe he’s still here.”
“Why?”
“A feeling.”
“I’d go with that feeling if I were you,” the voice declares “We got a hit on a cell tower near Topeka. Tesla has been making calls.”
Kazim is speechless as he ponders why Tesla would reveal himself like that. And more importantly maybe, who has he been calling?
“And it gets better,” the voice carries confidently across the line “He left the cell phone on. We’re tracking him now. I’ll send the most recent coordinates to your phone. Eric and a team will meet up with you to provide backup.
“I want this taken care of quickly. We are running out of time.”
The line disconnects as Kazim turns the engine over and pulls out onto the highway. Gunning the motor he sets off after Tesla the itch forgotten.
Chapter 24
Des Moines, Iowa
Walking hurriedly from the underground parking structure towards the hospital, Alex Banister breathes deeply of the early evening air. The night air feels good in his lungs. His tortured mind is a jumble of thoughts.
I have to stop seeing Angela. There’s too much at stake—too much to lose. If Victoria ever found out that I’m cheating on her it would break her heart and I couldn’t cause her that much hurt and still live with myself.
And who knows what Donald would do if he ever found out that I’m sleeping with his wife. I have to stop.
But…Angela, how can I possibly stop seeing her when I think I’m falling in love with her. Is it possible to love two women at once? I love Victoria, I know I do. I married her because I wanted to spend my life with her and I still want to…I think.
If only Angela didn’t need me so much. But she does. Donald is awful to her and she needs me for solace. If I were to take that away from her it might destroy her. I can’t just walk away from her.
Especially not now that this has happened.
Looking up at the towering edifice of the hospital Alex remembers the fear in her voice when she called him to say that Cody had collapsed. Any thoughts of ending the affair were temporarily put on hold with that phone call.
But like a bad penny—they keep turning up.
Maybe I can offer Angela comfort without it becoming sexual? Maybe she’d be okay with us going back to being just friends? After all she has children to think about. I know that she’d never forgive herself if they found out about her having an affair.
I’m not the only one here with something to lose. She may not care about her marriage the way I care about mine but she does care about Jaime and Cody. I think she might agree to stop this.
I’m not crazy to think that, am I? We both may love each other but we also have so much to lose if this ever gets out. And the longer it goes on the greater the chance of our being found out. I think for sure that if I explain it to her like that then she’ll agree with me.
After all her conscience must be getting to her too. Angela is a decent woman who’s just been pushed into adultery. She must want to stop as much as I do but maybe she’s just afraid to say anything. Maybe she doesn�
�t want to hurt my feelings? And this way no one’s feelings will be hurt. We’ll still be friends and if she ever needs someone to comfort her I’ll be there. I know that Angela will understand this…I know it.
Walking through the automatic doors emblazoned with a giant blue H, Alex curses at the bad timing. A knot of fear begins to grow in his stomach. Despite all his rationalizations he’s afraid that if he ends things now, Angela will hate him forever.
Stepping onto the elevator the fear rises in sync with the elevator—one floor at a time.
Sitting uncomfortably on a hard plastic chair, Angela Lincoln nervously kneads her hands on her lap. Her eyes are constantly darting around the waiting room in search of a doctor.
In search of good news.
Donald is pacing back and forth across the room like a caged animal. Seeing him prowling in front of her searching for anyone to pounce on isn’t helping her to cope.
“Donald.”
He stops his trek to look at her. She rarely sees him like this. With his suit jacket thrown over the back of one of the chairs and his necktie hanging loosely around his unbuttoned collar, for a change he looks like he’s not in control of a situation.
“Why don’t you sit down, you’re making me nervous pacing like that.”
Looking off down the corridor he mumbles “Where the hell is the doctor? I’d like to know what’s going on.”
“We all would, but pacing isn’t going to help.”
Looking back at her, Donald runs his fingers through his messed hair saying, “I’m going to go get something to drink. Jaime, will you come and help me?”
Sitting beside her mother, Jaime looks at her. She’s worried about her and doesn’t know if she should leave her alone.
Recognizing the concern in her daughter’s face, Angela smiles weakly saying, “Go on with your father. I’ll be fine.”
Reluctantly Jaime stands up and with a final squeeze of her mother’s hand walks away down the corridor after her father.
At the other end of the hallway the elevator doors slide open and Alex Banister steps out. Angela sees him immediately.
As usual his curly brown hair is a mess adding to his boyish charm. He still has the soft facial features of a young boy—a tiny mouth, innocent eyes, and round cheekbones.
His slight frame draws her to him like a moth to a flame. Nothing about him is threatening—unlike Donald—the biggest part of him is his heart.
Standing up she calls out his name. Turning towards her, his eyes glisten with affection as he takes her into his arms. The embrace is familiar and comforting offering her the feeling of security that she’s longed for.
“How is he?”
Trembling in his arms a sob chokes off her reply. Alex gently pats her on the back whispering words of comfort in her ear.
After a time they uncouple as Alex guides her back to a chair. “You’re not here alone?”
Shaking her head she answers, “Donald and Jaime went to get something to drink.”
It’s subtle but she notices Alex flinch slightly, his eyes darting around at the mention of Donald’s name. “Are you okay?”
A nervous laugh slips out as Alex replies, “I’m fine. Don’t even worry about me. I’m worried about you. How did this happen?”
Entwining their fingers in the space between them, Angela says, “It must have happened when he tried to help Tim. I should’ve noticed it sooner, but he’s been so distant ever since. He’s taken Tim’s death hard.”
“Don’t blame yourself Angela; you couldn’t have done anything to prevent this.” She rests her head on his shoulder allowing him to stroke her head lovingly. “What about the other boy? Didn’t another boy try to help Tim?”
Breathing deeply of his aftershave she answers, “Derek’s fine. He’s not sick at all…” The cruelty of that statement forces another sob from her chest. Why did it have to be my son?
They sit in companionable silence for a time. They’re just two people—one offering comfort to the other without the need of words. Their affair may be wrong but this is not. This is love and compassion in its purest form. When one person says to another with nothing more than a gesture, take comfort from the storm in the safety of my embrace.
She can feel his heart beating rapidly against her cheek. She knows him well enough to know that he’s not simply nervous or worried about her—he’s torn.
Torn between the love they share and the vows he swore. Lately, she’s seen his guilt increasingly tormenting him and knows that now is no different. I wonder what it’s like to have a marriage that you actually care about.
Extricating herself from his arms she sits forward in her chair.
“What’s wrong?”
“Alex!”
Alex jumps at the sound of Donald calling his name from a few feet away. Standing awkwardly he faces the man whose wife he’s been sleeping with.
“Where’s Jaime?” Angela asks.
“She went outside to try and call Scott again on her cell phone.” Donald turns to Alex with a smile “If I didn’t know better I’d swear that you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
Vigorously shaking his head Alex says, “No…no. I haven’t been avoiding you at all Donald. I’ve just been…well there’s a lot going on lately.”
“I need to speak with you, you mind?” Donald waves him off to one side.
Catching Angela’s eye for a moment, Alex swallows nervously and follows Donald off to a corner of the room. “What’s up?”
“Have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Grady’s sick.”
The news of another councilman falling sick takes Alex off guard. “Where is he?”
“They’re running out of room here so he’s in the makeshift facility in Centennial Public. And it gets worse. I called Ann to check on her,” shaking his head Donald whispers, “She didn’t make it.”
“Jesus,” Alex leans back unsteadily against the wall. He feels like all the air has been knocked out of him. I sat beside Ann at council meetings for three years and I didn’t even know she was sick, let alone…
“When I couldn’t get a hold of you,” Donald says, “I was worried that you might’ve gotten sick as well. Or that you might’ve heard about Ann and Grady and weren’t taking the news well. Honestly, I don’t know which I was hoping for.
“But here you are, healthy and unaware of what happened and it makes me wonder—why have you been incommunicado?”
Alex fidgets under the weight of Donald’s gaze and begins to stammer a reply when the sound of a doctor entering the waiting room pulls Donald away.
Taking a deep breath, Alex glances over at the exhausted looking man in a wrinkled white coat. His face is drawn in a mask of solemn compassion. A surgical mask hangs limply around his neck while the end of a black stethoscope sticks out of the coat’s pocket.
Damp auburn hair sticks to his forehead above caring blue eyes that are careful to look right at the Lincoln’s as he talks to them.
To Alex he’s the closest thing to an angel of mercy that he’s ever seen. Taking the opportunity, he sneaks out of the room before Donald can refocus on him.
“What’s happening with our son?”
Dr. Steven Kendrick motions for the scared parents of his latest patient to sit down. “Please have a seat and we’ll talk.”
“Is he all right?” Angela asks with her voice wavering.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln I’m going to level with you, Cody is very sick. His condition right now is critical.”
With a gasp, Angela covers her mouth as tears slide down her cheeks. In what Steven can only describe as odd, Donald sitting beside his wife offers her no comforting words or gestures.
Continuing he says, “I’ve taken blood cultures and a bronchial wash. Preliminary tests indicate the presence of plague bacteria in his respiratory system. The Gram and Wright stains I’ve ordered will confirm that diagnosis.
“But given what’s going on right now, I’m confide
nt in saying that Cody has pneumonic plague.”
“What are you doing for him?”
Turning to Donald, Steven addresses his question. “Mr. Mayor I’m doing everything possible for Cody. He’s presently on a course of Streptomycin—”
“The rumor going around is that antibiotics are useless against this thing,” Donald interrupts.
“There has been some resistance noted,” Steven responds “And if the Streptomycin doesn’t work we’ll switch Cody to an intravenous dosage of Gentamicin. For someone Cody’s age, these are the preferred treatments.”
“How much are you giving him?” Donald asks raising his voice “Maybe you should up the dosage.”
“Right now he’s getting 15 mg intramuscularly twice daily. I wouldn’t want to up the dosage. There are side effects to consider and if the bacterium is resistant increasing the dosage won’t help anyway.”
“Can…can we see him?”
Offering Angela a weak smile, Steven answers softly “Of course. Try to keep it brief though, he needs his rest. You can see the nurse on duty to get masks.”
Standing up Donald lets Angela go ahead of him as he looks around the waiting room. Not finding Alex he growls under his breath turning his temper on Steven.
“I want everything possible done for my son. He’s not going to die, are we clear?”
With a sigh Steven replies “We’re doing everything we can for Cody.”
What else can I say?
Stillness, Iowa
“What are the latest numbers that we have?”
Danny Gordon shuffles through the paperwork in front of him looking for a particular printout. “Here it is,” he begins, “As of a few hours ago we had 178 confirmed cases with 114 dead.”
“Jesus,” Roger whistles on the screen from Atlanta “That’s approaching two-thirds mortality.”
“Consistent with the release of a biological agent,” Dr. Rahlings points out. “What did you find at the cave Dr. Bosworth?”
Lynne looks at the monitor a long time before replying “Samples were collected and will be examined shortly. If there’s something there to find, we’ll find it.”
Stillness Page 14