Pandora (Book 5): Behold A Pale Horse

by McCrohan, Richard

  Now, with the new morning dawning in America, the Pandora virus embedded in the brainstem of thirty percent of all humans would soon start its cycle to complete the unearthly mutation and infect its final population.

  Friday…

  “Attention. Attention all students,” the intercom screeched in all the rooms of Oakwood High School. “Will all students who were ill with the Pandora virus a few weeks ago please report to your home room teachers now.”

  All the students looked at each other in concern. They had been told to go to their home rooms for first period, instead of the regular classes. Dwayne and Billy glanced at each other. The rest of the students fidgeted uncomfortably.

  Their homeroom teacher, Ms. Vieira held her hands up.

  “It’s okay, everyone,” she said smiling, “I just need to take down the names and addresses of everyone here who had caught the Pandora virus before. Now, if those of you who were sick would please stand up?”

  Of the twenty-five students in their homeroom, nine students stood. They all looked worried. A couple surreptitiously started typing into their phones.

  “Carlos?” Ms. Vieira asked.

  “Yes, ma’am?” a short, dark haired boy with glasses said in the back of the class.

  “Carlos, weren’t you out during the Pandora virus epidemic?” she said.

  “Uh, yeah,” he stammered, “but I didn’t have it.”

  “You weren’t out with the virus?” she asked.

  “No, teacher,” he said. “It was asthma. I have asthma.”

  She looked at him suspiciously, “Are you sure it wasn’t Pandora?”

  Carlos started to get upset. “No, I told you. It was asthma. I had a bad asthma attack. Ask my parents.”

  A bit unsure of herself now, she looked at him and said, “Well, okay Carlos. But why don’t you stand anyway.” The nine students standing turned to look at him.

  “Why do I have to stand up, too?” he said defiantly.

  One of the girls standing turned to the teacher and said, “Yeah, why are we standing?”

  Attempting to regain control, Ms. Vieira smiled and said, “I just have to take the names and addresses for the principal. Just so we have a list in case anyone needs treatment later.”

  “Treatment for what?” the girl asked.

  “In case anyone already infected becomes ill again,” the teacher said. “Please, this will only take a minute. Just come up one by one and I’ll take your information. Then you can go and sit down again.”

  She gestured for the first student to come forward. The young man with longish blonde hair stepped forward and gave his information. The next one came up, and then they all started to queue up.

  Five students have already given their information and sat back down when the next-to-last student looked down at his cell phone.

  “Wait,” he said, looking at the cell phone screen, “my mom says that I don’t have to give you any information.”

  Ms. Vieira looked up puzzled. “What?”

  The boy showed her his phone. “My mom just texted me and said not to give any information like that to you. She said that the school has no right to request that information. She says it’s the HIPA Act.”

  “Roger,” she said to the boy, “I’m sure this is nothing. It’s just a list.”

  “No,” he said. He looked very ill at ease. “My mom says no. I’m not going on any list.” He sat down. The girl behind him stood there blinking her eyes and then she sat down, also. Carlos still hadn’t gotten up from his seat.

  The teacher glared at Roger and then at the two students remaining upright. They both cowered and walked over to give her their information. When this was done she said tensely, “Alright, you have the rest of the time to study. No more phones or I’ll take them away.”

  While the rest of the students were taking out their books, Ms. Vieira added the last three names to the list… including Carlos.

  The rest of the day continued on normally. Except for the handful of incensed parents who arrived in the morning to pick up their children and scream at the principal about privacy rights and fascist governmental abuse of power.

  Although not all cities were collecting this information about students who were infected, what most people didn’t know was that, on a national level, Homeland Security was collecting records from hospitals, clinics and medical practices around the country for anyone who was admitted or treated for the original Pandora virus. National Guard units were being called up and on Sunday morning, they and law enforcement officers would begin a door to door sequestration of all of the previously infected. These people would then be put into quarantine until either they relapsed or the virus passed. Sunday morning was chosen because most of the populace would be at home then. This decision was not made public and only to be announced at the last minute so there would not be time to organize a public outcry. The president who signed off on this knew it would be a very unpopular act, but after hours of intensive study it was deemed to be the only successful way to contain the problem before it got out of their control. The Sunday morning start was a wisely considered decision, but would prove to also be a day late.

  §§ §

  Patrick Shannon reached for another french fry. He was sitting at a table with four other coworkers having lunch. The man across from him, Tom LoCascio had just finished telling them about the call he had gotten from his wife.

  “So,” Patrick said, “They really made all of the students stand up and give the teachers their information? Really?”

  “That’s right,” Tom said. “June said that Allison Simon told her daughter not comply with them. She said it was illegal.”

  “Sheesh,” remarked Paul Benson, sitting next to Patrick.

  “These liberals are just troublemakers,” suggested Lloyd Marshall, another lunch member. `

  “Not so fast,” said Patrick. “I’d be willing to bet that she’s right.”

  “What, you too, Pat?” Lloyd remarked.

  “No, he’s probably right, Lloyd,” said Ernie Kozinski, the final member. “But, regardless of that, I don’t like the implications of what this all means. This doesn’t sound right.”

  “What you mean?” Tom asked.

  “Well,” said Ernie, “why do they need all the names and especially addresses? The only reason would be to –”

  “A quarantine,” interrupted Patrick.

  “Right you are,” said Ernie.

  “Oh, that’s nonsense,” chuffed Lloyd.

  “You think the government would do that?” asked Tom.

  “My sister-in-law works at Good Samaritan Hospital in Monticello and she told my wife that they got a call requesting all records of previous virus victims to be sent to the county courthouse,” said Ernie.

  “Why?” Paul asked.

  “Her take was that this was for the same thing. And it was for all the children and adults,” remarked Ernie.

  “Well, maybe a quarantine is a good idea,” Paul remarked. “After all, if it’s only the people who were infected before and that may be at risk, why not separate them for everybody’s own good?”

  Patrick looked at him. “That’s easy for you to say, Paul. Nobody in your house came down with Pandora as I recall.”

  Defensively, Paul said, “So?”

  “So, how would you like a knock on the door in the middle of the night, by the police, looking to take away you or your wife? Or your children?” Tom said angrily.

  “Hey, take it easy,” said Lloyd, placatingly. “Nobody’s going to come and take anybody anywhere. What’s this…? Nazi Germany? I’m sure they will just require all of them to remain indoors for the quarantine. If anything.”

  “Well, you better hope so,” replied Ernie. “I, for one, won’t let anyone take my family away. You all know both of my sons had Pandora and I’m telling you now… nobody in my house is going anywhere.”

  “My wife had it,” added Patrick.

  “Shit, I had,” said Tom. “And my
four-year-old,” he added quietly.

  Lloyd mumbled almost to himself, “Almost my whole family had it.”

  Just then the waitress came over to the table. “Anyone need more drinks?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take another coke,” said Tom.

  “Me, too,” added Paul.

  “Say, Dolores,” Patrick said, “where is Angela at the cash register today? This is the first time, I think, that I have ever not seen her standing there. I thought she was nailed to the floor.”

  Dolores laughed, “We all did. She went home sick about an hour ago. She looked awful. And for her to leave work, she must be dying.” The rest of the table joined her in laughter. Angela was the owner’s wife and she was convinced that she didn’t stand guard over the cash register everyone would rob them blind.

  § § §

  Dwayne had raised his hand.He was in the last period history class with Mr. Nelson.

  “How long does the essay have to be, Mr. Nelson?” Dwayne asked.

  “At least three pages, Mr. Shannon,” replied the teacher.

  The class was packing their books as they waited for the last bell to ring. They had just gotten their homework assignment.

  The teacher stood, “Now remember, on my desk, Monday. No excuses.” Half of the class groaned. Just then the bell sounded and everyone rushed out of the classroom excitedly talking.

  Mr. Nelson sat back down. He was glad the day was over. The morning homeroom gathering had not proved as easy as everyone assumed it would. Some teachers actually experienced outright rebellion. Not pretty! Especially for Mr. Samuelson, the principal. Mr. Nelson rubbed his forehead with his hand. I’m getting a headache, he thought. It must be the stress of the day. He looked at his fingers and flexed them. They felt a little stiff. Great, he thought. Maybe a glass of wine before dinner would help. Couldn’t hurt. Tomorrow was Saturday and he would have the day to relax. The headache that started an hour ago was getting worse. Maybe he’d just go home now and finished grading the papers tonight. He knew his wife would be making dinner and it would be nice to stay in. Tomorrow he’d feel better.

  § § §

  Hanging up the phone, Anne Shannon thought, Shit, the canasta game is canceled for tonight. Anne enjoyed playing canasta with the girls on Fridays. But Joanie McEvoy couldn’t make it tonight, so they had to cancel. Apparently, she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t play. Hmm, Anne thought, didn’t she have the Pandora virus a few weeks ago, too? Yes, now that I think of it, she did. A twinge of worry crossed her brow. Well, I feel fine. Maybe it’s only some people that get infected. She remembered that Joanie had to go to the hospital for three days. She got hit hard. Anne on the other hand, just seemed to have average flulike symptoms. Nothing at all serious. She went to the clinic, got some pills and stayed in bed for two days, but that was it. Not a big deal. And, she felt fine. Oh well. She had started to make tuna casserole for the family because it was fast; but even though she would now be home for the night, she might as well continue with it. Everyone liked her casserole anyway.

  §§ §

  “See you next week, Erica,” her roommate called from the doorway.

  “Okay Madison,” Erica called back, “we’ll probably be gone for a couple of days and then back again.”

  Laughing, the lithe young girl gave a final wave and wheeled her small travel case out the door.

  While this interruption of campus life was a bit of a pain, it would be nice to see her family again. She was glad to be living on campus and the independence helped to heighten her maturity level. It was nice knowing that you could make it on your own, so to speak.

  Erica had thrown some things into a backpack to take with her. Nothing much, just the essentials. She still had some clothes at home. It was only a three hour drive to get there, so whenever she’d have a break, she would come home to see the family and exchange her wardrobe. Erica walked to the hallway and looked down the corridors. Only one or two girls wandered about. She noticed her friend Greta, from Austria, step out into the hallway. She looked sad.

  “Everything okay, Greta?” she asked.

  The girl turned to look at her. Erica could see that she had been crying.

  “Everyone on this floor is almost gone,” she said.

  Walking over to her, Erica said, “That’s true, but in a few days I’m sure everyone will be back. School must go on.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Greta said shakily. “I spoke to my parents back home and they told me that things are really horrible there. My father said that a lot of families are trapped in their houses because it is much too dangerous to go outside. People are being attacked in the streets. Stores are running out of food. It is a disaster. The police shot two people outside our house two days ago and my mother says that the bodies are still there. Nobody came to take them away. And now, everyone here is leaving. I just want to go home. I’m so scared and lonely.” She burst out crying.

  Rushing over to her, Erica embraced the frightened girl and hugged her closely. Greta cried against her shoulder. Trying to think of what she could do, Erica said to her, “I’ll tell you what, Greta. Why don’t you come home with me for the few days I’ll be there? My parents are great and I’m sure it would be no problem. We can share my old room.”

  Greta looked at her gratefully, with red rimmed eyes. “Are you sure would be all right?”

  “Of course, silly,” said Erica with a big smile. “Easy peezy.”

  “Thank you,” Greta said. “You’re a good friend.”

  “No problem,” said Erica, “Jason is picking me up tomorrow at nine in the morning. Meet me here and we’ll go together.”

  Now with plans made, both girls went back to their rooms.

  § § §

  Dwayne and Billy were closing their lockers and heading for the buses parked out in front of the school.

  “Hey, D,” Billy said, “that new Avengers movie just opened today. What you say we go and see it tomorrow? It looks awesome.”

  “Yeah,” Dwayne agreed, “I think that’s a good idea. I know my sister’s coming home, but she probably won’t get here until the afternoon, I guess. Maybe we’ll catch the first showing.”

  “Cool,” nodded Billy.

  As they walked out the front doors, one of their friends called them over. He was standing there with two other boys looking at his phone.

  “D”, he said, looking up, “you gotta come here and take a look at this.”

  Dwayne and Billy walked over and looked down at the cell phone screen. An image distorted, then cleared. It was a handheld video apparently filmed in England. The camera focused in on an English bobbie wrestling with a long-haired man. He was on his back with his right arm locked around the man’s neck and his other hand tightly gripping his shirt. Another bobbie stood over them trying to secure the man’s wrists with plastic restraints. The long-haired man was struggling wildly; all the while growling and hissing. He kept trying to lunge forward at the other bobbie with his head. His jaws snapped violently like a rabid dog. Although his shirt front was bloodied, he didn’t appear to have any obvious wounds. His hands constantly continued to claw his opponent. Finally, they secured his wrists with plastic zip-cuffs. The officer rolled him over on his stomach as the other yanked on his arms. As the downed bobbie attempted to extricate himself from the still struggling attacker, the officer pressed the man’s head against the pavement. Just as the first bobbie removed his arm from around his throat, the prone attacker twisted to the side. As he did, the officer who was holding his head down felt his hand slip. The crazed man jerked his head and the bobbie’s hand slid down his face and across his mouth. With slippery fingers sliding into his open jaws, the man snapped his teeth closed hard. A terrible scream sounded from the cell phone.

  “Oh, shit,” the boy holding the phone gasped.

  The bitten officer, still screaming, beat the man with his free hand, while the man’s now blood soaked face shook back and forth like a dog with a chew toy. The other
bobbie had taken his baton and was beating the man ferociously. It seemed to have absolutely no effect on the attacker. The picture kept going in and out of focus as the man filming it was moving around. It cleared again just as the bitten bobbie pulled his hand back from the man’s crunching teeth. His last two fingers were missing. As he pulled back, blood spurted from the ragged wound. Several drops splattered on the screen and the picture went dark.

  The five boys stood frozen in place still staring at the empty screen.