It’s the cries that he’ll never forget.
Finding a fountain he drinks heavily despite the fact that he can barely swallow. Choking it down he hopes it will wash some of his intense grief away.
Moving with all the life of a corpse he goes back to Dominique’s bedside and sits back down with her hand between his again. “Please,” he prays “Please get better.”
Resting his head on the edge of her bed he joins the others in the hospital and cries. Softly he cries himself to uneasy sleep.
The alarm sounding wakes him up before the orderlies push him out of the way. Dominique’s vitals are falling. Standing back out of the way his breathing takes on an erratic pattern, alternating between moments of holding his breath and moments of not being able to breathe. He watches nervously as the doctor frantically works to revive her. Absently his eyes drift to the heart and blood pressure monitor that tracks the last vestiges of a life.
As the numbers plummet and the line becomes flat he screams at the orderlies in helpless frustration. Finally the screen flat lines and doesn’t recover.
Overcome Gaetano collapses to his knees and bawls uncontrollably. The doctor on scene calls it at 10:58 am—the precise moment that Gaetano Anjou will never forget. That horrendous, unspeakable moment that words will never do justice, when the only woman he’s ever loved succumbed to a sinister illness.
“I’m sorry son,” the doctor says quietly to him before asking one of the orderlies “Where are her parents?”
They shrug not knowing before Gaetano speaks up “They went home not one hour ago to get some rest. I told them I’d be here with her. I didn’t…they didn’t…we…”
The doctor nods understanding that no one expected her to take such a turn for the worse so quickly. “Give her parents a call,” he says to one of the nurses “Let them know what’s happened and try your best to console them.”
Crouching down he looks Gaetano in the eye and asks, “Are you going to be okay son?”
Gaetano doesn’t respond or even blink from his distant gaze. His eyes are locked on the bed where Dominique’s body lies.
Concerned about his state of mind the doctor is about to recommend a course of action when he’s called away by another emergency. On his way out he instructs a volunteer to watch Gaetano.
After a while Gaetano stands again and turns away from the room. His eyes are wet and red from crying while his cheeks are tearstained.
“Sir,” the volunteer asks, “Are you all right?”
Gaetano barely hears the question and ignores it anyway. He walks away to find a pay phone to tell her parents the news before they hear it elsewhere.
“Guy my god what’s wrong?” Grabbing his arm as he moves past her oblivious, Jaime asks, “What is it?”
With enormous effort he says, “I…its Dom. I have to tell her parents. She’s…she’s…”
Jaime brings her hand over her mouth as she understands “Omigod no.”
They fall into an embrace to comfort one another as they both cry openly.
After a time Jaime releases him saying, “Guy, Scott’s here too.”
“Where is he?”
Jaime looks at him and sniffs her reply “He’s been admitted.”
The room spins around him as Gaetano turns away and wretches. Last night’s dinner mixes with the stench of fear as the nightmare comes home for him in an instant.
Part Three:
Turning the Screws
Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report
On October 15, public health officials in Iowa reported to the CDC a suspected outbreak of pneumonic plague in the town of Stillness. They requested assistance from the EIS in determining the source of the outbreak and in confirming their diagnosis.
An EIS officer was dispatched to Stillness and arrived on October 17 and is still on site. Confirmation of the pneumonic form of Yersinia Pestis was made through various lab tests including Gram and Wright-Giemsa stains.
The source of the outbreak however continues to be evasive. Tests of local fauna have come back negative leaving the question as to where the bacteria came from to infect people.
This is the first reported outbreak of Y. pestis east of the Rocky Mountains in the United States adding to the questions surrounding where it came from. No cases of bubonic plague have been noted among the 342 confirmed infections as of October 26.
As pneumonic plague is the rarest of the three forms of plague, this circumstance has led some investigators to postulate that this could be a biological attack.
Feeding the theory of a biological weapon is the noted antibiotic resistance of this strain of bacteria. So far resistance to Streptomycin has been the most commonly observed, though resistance to other drugs has been detected as well.
This however has produced more questions than answers for investigators as tests run by the CDC in Atlanta found no antibiotic resistance in any of the samples—a contradiction that still resists explanation.
Also adding to the likelihood of a biological attack is the startling mortality rate. Of the 342 infections, 285 have succumbed to it for a mortality rate of 83%. The 342 infections represent 11% of the total population of the town.
Case Study:
On October 12, eight year old Zack Palmer presented with symptoms of fever, cough, shortness of breath, and nausea. His doctor discovered swollen lymph nodes as well.
Two days later, with a severe fever the boy died of respiratory failure in his home. Postmortem tests revealed the presence of Y. pestis bacteria in his lungs.
Another boy with confirmed contact with him, eight year old Matthew Brown was admitted to Des Moines Hospital on October 14 with high fever, stomachache and vomiting.
The doctor on call that night began measures to bring the fever under control and immediately started a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics. The patient file reveals that a virus was suspected and viral isolates were ordered.
The initial assumption based on the violent cramps and vomiting was that they were dealing with a food borne pathogen of some kind. Interviews with his parents were conducted to discover anything unusual that Matthew might have eaten in the past 24 hours.
At this point, the infection that was spreading throughout Stillness was still largely unknown in Des Moines and no connection was made between Matthew’s symptoms and the growing outbreak.
While admitted, Matthew developed chest pain, cough and hemoptysis. A full blown pneumonia was noted on October 15 prompting all inquiry into food borne pathogens to cease.
A bronchial wash of his lower respiratory tract discovered Y. pestis bacteria. Before the end of October 15 he was placed on a respirator as his lungs failed.
Streptomycin was administered as the recommended first line defense against pneumonic plague but it had no effect. Doxycycline and Ciprofloxacin also proved ineffective in Matthew’s case.
On October 16 a gram stain revealed a secondary infection of Streptococcus pneumoniae in his sputum. He succumbed to his infection late on the sixteenth.
Chapter 34
October 26
Stillness, Iowa
People are dying all around her.
They cry and reach out to her for help…but she can’t help them. They’re going to die and the knowledge sickens her.
The specter of the diseased hangs in the air of the room as she makes her way to one bed in particular. She doesn’t know why this bed draws her attention. It seems no different from the hundred other beds that she passes.
Yet it calls to her—a moth to a flame.
She recognizes Henry standing off to the side of the room. Looking at him she realizes that he has no eyes—only darkness resides there.
Turning away from the hideous sight she rushes on towards the bed that calls to her. Huddled around the bed are three men. Their faces are covered by surgical masks concealing their identities.
Looking at the patient in the bed her heart jumps into her throat. She’s laying in the bed…she’s got the dise
ase!
The man closest to her turns away from her prone body, while removing his mask. She doesn’t recognize his face but the look in his eyes calms her. A thin scar on his upper lip raises as he says, “Dig for the truth,” handing her a shovel.
Feeling the weight of the shovel in her hands she looks down at it and cries out at the sight of blood encrusting the blade. She drops it to the floor where it makes no sound whatsoever.
The mysterious first man is gone.
Turning to the second man who’s leaning over her bed kissing her forehead she thinks she recognizes him. But it can’t be…
Her father turns his steely gaze upon her. She wants to run to him and wrap her arms around him but she’s unable to move.
Slowly, he removes his mask to reveal flesh rotting on the bone. Screaming she watches in horror as her father melts before her. His skin sloughs off to reveal the skeleton beneath—not white but a shade of brown on the bones.
The skeleton opens its jaw and points a bony appendage across the bed at the third man saying, “Four stars.”
She closes her eyes and the skeleton vanishes from her bedside. The third man’s face is obscured by a black fog. She can see nothing of him but hears the same word over and over again.
“Peccavi.”
Screaming she tumbles from the room into the grasp of hundreds of hands all tearing and pulling at her. Being pulled in all directions her screams fade away…
“Lynne,” reaching down Danny Gordon gently nudges her again “Wake up Lynne.”
Startled awake she looks up at him for a few seconds before she places his face and remembers where she is.
“Bad dream?” he asks.
“I must have nodded off. It was the weirdest dream, I…” she trails off as she tries to remember the details of her dream only to find them beyond her reach. Shaking her head she asks, “What’s up?”
“Your boss has been calling. He says you’re not answering your pager.”
Checking the device clipped to her belt she realizes that it’s off. “Thanks Danny,” she smiles slightly “That’s enough sleep for now anyway.”
Danny laughs sympathetically as he turns to leave the room. Grabbing the nearest phone she dials Roger’s extension and is immediately connected to her boss.
“Sorry Roger, I didn’t realize that my pager was off. What do you need?”
“It’s all right Lynne,” Roger’s voice belies understanding; “You do need to sleep sometime. Besides I just wanted to give you an update on the situation here.”
Lynne listens patiently as she yawns and stretches out her tired muscles.
“Womack is pushing for us to declare this a biological attack. He has the support of most of the senior people in the agency. And just so you know, the Warden has been crying for you to be removed from this case.”
Feeling like a balloon that has had all the air let out of it, Lynne asks, “Why?”
“He doesn’t think that you have enough experience for this situation. Not too mention that he shares Womack’s opinion and doesn’t think you’ll ever declare this bioterrorism.”
“I have no problem declaring this bioterrorism if that’s what it is.” She fires back, “But I’m not going to jump to conclusions just to appease a political agenda.”
“There’s more than just politics going on here Lynne. With the medical evidence the tests you ordered have gathered, the top dogs feel that you’ve proven the case for bioterrorism and that now you’re just afraid to admit it.”
“What evidence?”
“They’re citing the high lethality, the lack of a bubonic case, and they say the whole mess with the antibiotic resistance is further proof that this bacteria has been tampered with. It’s all in the latest MMWR.”
“So what then,” she asks, “Are you removing me from the case?”
“No Lynne, I’m not.” He pauses on the line before adding, “I’m in your corner on this. I just wanted you to know that the pressure for a, shall we say, specific answer is building. I don’t know how much longer I can keep approving tests before I’m overruled.”
“Then just one more test. Run a full PCR and DNA typing on this strain of Yersinia Pestis. Do you have enough material left for that?”
“Yes, but what are you trying to find? Y. Pestis DNA has already been mapped and catalogued. And if this strain turns up different, you’ll be making the case for bioterrorism.”
“It will be what it will be Roger. I’m only interested in the truth.”
“And what do you think that is?”
“I don’t know,” she answers, “But I know that right now there are too many anomalies with this strain of plague to declare anything with any kind of certainty.”
What’s wrong with me?
Derek Rohm slowly twists the chain on the swing as he twists this thought in his mind.
Tim is dead. Cody is dead. Why am I not? How am I not sick when so many others are?
From the playground of Centennial Public School he can see some of the ruins of the downtown riot. They said flu shots were linked to the plague…I had a flu shot.
Tim exposed Cody to the plague, I know that. So I was exposed to the plague as well. I must have been. Why didn’t I die too?
Looking heavenward he searches for answers to alleviate his survivor’s guilt. For some people, living is worse than dying. Living means being left behind to deal with the question why not me. Why them and not me?
Absently dragging his feet across the dirt he swings slightly from side to side. He should be at home he knows, but he makes no move to head there. All that’s at home is more crippling anxiety from his mother.
His head jerks up at the sound of squealing brakes. Out on Passmore a Ford Taurus loses control and jumps the curb to crash into the fence surrounding the school.
Leaping from the swing he rushes over to see if he can help. Reaching the car he bangs his hands on the crumpled hood as he makes his way over to the driver’s side door. Opening it he finds a woman leaning over the steering wheel with blood trickling down her face from a head wound. The gash seems to be along the hairline and doesn’t look life threatening.
“Are you okay?”
Her only response is a moan. Reaching around her, he unbuckles her seatbelt and proceeds to gently remove her from the car.
Draping her arm around his shoulder he lifts her out. She weighs more than he expected causing him to stumble slightly. Their faces almost touch before she jerks from a coughing spasm.
He can feel her hot breath and wet spittle on his face. Dragging her a few feet away he lays her down in the grass and swipes at the spit on his lips.
At his feet, she continues to cough violently. A fact that escaped him until just now comes flooding back to him. Looking at her skin he can see the glistening sheen of a fever.
She’s infected with plague. Nervously looking down at his hand he rubs it on his pants to remove any of her germs. It’s futile, he knows.
She’s infected and now...have I been infected?
Chapter 35
Mary Osborne is surrounded by the ruination of her life.
Standing in her café she surveys the damage from the riot and sadly shakes her head. As she steps around the counter her feet crunch the broken glass that litters the floor. Despite herself she tears up at the sound.
She knows that her insurance will pay to fix everything back up but she doesn’t know if she wants them to. That night changed everything for her.
That people she’s known her whole life could do this to her—well the thought was once upon a time unthinkable.
Picking up a half-broken decanter she lets it drop to the floor with the rest of the wreckage. This town is not what it used to be.
Leaning on the counter she buries her face in her hands and tries to keep from breaking down completely in tears.
A knock at the door startles her and looking up she sees Jacob Castle standing there. With a smile he asks, “Can I come in?”
; She nods but adds “I can’t offer you anything though; I’m kind of in the middle of renovating.”
Jacob shares a restrained laugh with her as he sits down on one of the stools not broken. “How are you holding up?”
Directing him to look around Mary asks, “How do you think I’m holding up?”
“Not well I guess.”
“Why are you here Jacob?”
The shortness of her question and the abruptness of her demeanor are new to Jacob. Normally she always has a smile for him and he’s the one who is short with her. Reaching out a hand to her he says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Pulling her hand back before he can touch it Mary replies, “I’ll be fine.”
Lowering his head Jacob mumbles “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“If I hadn’t printed that story than this wouldn’t have happened. I feel responsible.”
“It’s not your fault Jake,” she says, “All you did was print the news. You can’t be responsible for how people reacted to it.”
“Well if you need any help with the clean-up I’d be glad to help.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to clean it up Jacob.”
Surprised by this Jacob asks, “What are you talking about Mary? This place is your life; it’s been in your family for generations.”
“Do you think I need you to tell me that?” Mary snaps at him. “I know how long my family has run this place. My grandmother always told me to give the customer everything that they want and you’ll never be poor.
“Stillness was different then though. Now this is what the customer wants.” She waves her hands around indicating the mess of the café.
“Mary you can’t believe that.”
“It’s hard not to Jacob,” Mary wipes a tear from her eye “I look around this place and all I see is what this town did to me. I mistakenly thought that I meant something to people in this town and now I know better.”
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