In a panic he spun around, double check the lock. As he did he noticed the blood on his hand. Heart beating out of control, Hans ran to the sink, rolled up his sleeve and submerged his arm under the power stream all with the cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Come on, come on,” he beckoned out loud, watching the blood clear from his skin.
He breathed out heavily. A sigh. The injury was a speck bigger than a puncture would and wasn’t even bleeding anymore.
After rinsing, he washed it, rinsed, and then scrubbed the wound with disinfectant.
He coughed from the smoke, dried his arms, and then finally took the cigarette from his lips.
His phone was broken on the floor, and he reached down for the pieces.
Telling himself to relax, he sat, smoked his cigarette and tried to fix his phone. Anything to take his mind off of the strange event that had just occurred.
<><><><>
‘God, oh my God. Something’s happened. The bacteria. The virus…’ Hans’ words were rushed, panicked, and filled with static on the voicemail message. ‘Something’s happened to Katherine. She’s gotten violent. I think she caught it. Maybe it’s the virus. The patients are gone. Not dead gone, but gone. I fear they may be suffering from the same delirium. She tried to attack me. She …’
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Silence.
End of message.
Saul had missed the call and by the time he woke, the phone stopped ringing. He tried with diligence to call back, but it went straight to voice mail.
All he knew was that a frightened sounding Hans called and there were gunshots.
He tried every line and couldn’t get through to the site.
Saul didn’t need to be a psychic to know something went awry. Hans never lost his cool. Ever.
First thing was first, Saul had to find out what was going on and get help if needed to the area. He couldn’t do that from his home, so praying that everything was fine, he began to make phone calls for that help.
CHAPTER SEVEN
4 miles out Carancus, Puno, Peru
Pedro was a farmer, or he liked to associate himself as being a farmer. He didn’t grow much, and when his business as a carpenter folded, he moved his wife and two children to live with his mother. An ill woman of little means.
They made it through the hard times. Selling chickens and eggs, along with greens.
Pedro, a man of forty-five was a good man. People liked him. They counted on him. Strong and fit, dependable and wise.
Pedro had a lot to say about his teenage children. On the previous night, their late night sneaking wasn’t a bad thing. They had gone out to the wooded area with others and heard a child crying. Sobbing, they said and they and their friends searched. Hours after they were supposed to be home they told Pedro of their search. At first, Pedro, like any father thought this was their excuse, until he saw the desperation on their faces.
Then he, knowing the area as well as he did, took up the search.
When he first entered the area he heard the crying and followed it, calling out for the child. The crying continued and Pedro worried for the child’s welfare, and if he could get to the child before the elements did.
He searched for hours until the crying ceased. Pedro sat down to take a break, closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.
He dreamt of his search, how he kept looking, until he fell down a hill and broke his leg. The dream of the broken leg was so real he could actually feel pain. In fact, the pain woke Pedro.
Lying on his back, the early morning sun started to peek through the trees and he opened his eyes, wincing in pain. Had he slept on his leg wrong? It was when he tried to sit up that he looked down to this leg and screamed in horror.
A goat was gnawing on his calf. Blood seeped through. Pedro screamed, jolted his leg from the jaws of the goat, and grabbed his walking stick. The goat sneered at him as if a mad dog and after bucking on its hind legs jumped Pedro’s way.
Using the stick, Pedro careened down on the head of the goat. It moved back some then lunged again. This time, Pedro was ready. End out on his stick he rammed in through the open mouth of the goat directly through his throat into the back of its head.
The goat froze.
It took all of his strength to move the goat from him. When the goat hit the ground, Pedro stood. His leg ached and hurt worse than any pain he felt. He reached for his stick and got a closer look at the goat. Its entire side was removed. His ribcage and muscles were seen. Pedro didn’t even bother for the stick. He hobbled back, wanting only to get back home and get help.
A scuffling sound caught his attention.
Pedro turned.
There behind him was a boy, no older than six. The child was dirty, blood caked around his mouth and jaw. Typically, Pedro would have reached out to the boy to help. But there was something about the child. His eyes were lifeless, white, skin pasty almost gray. And as the child extended his arms and stared at Pedro with a demonic look, Pedro spun and as best as he could with an injured leg, took off running.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Fayetteville, NC
The CNN headlines read, ‘Could Mass Hysteria Be the Cause?’ It caught Lil’s attention as her internet browser logged on.
She didn’t think much about it until she saw the sub headline about a meteor or object landing in Peru. Then she was drawn in. A lifelong fan of phenomena, especially anything earth shattering, caught her attention.
Lil clicked on the link.
It didn’t say much. An undetermined object landed in Peru. Hundreds were ill, or were they?
Not good enough. It did make her mind wander some.
She returned to task at hand.
Searching the history of the computer to see where her husband was.
He didn’t think or wasn’t techno enough to clear it. Never did. Not that she was spying on him, ok, she was, but not to find another woman, rather to find out whether or not he was going to divorce her.
He was on the phone the whole day before with Branch, she heard that. Only one end. He wanted to be deployed. No longer wanted to live on base, non-deployable position, teaching. They were, at least what she could gather from his end, not favoring his deployment choice.
He wanted to leave. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Leaving to go somewhere else didn’t necessarily mean he was leaving her. Perhaps just taking a break, to think.
Who was she kidding?
Jack didn’t believe in divorce, and was waiting on her to do so. In the meantime he’d make it unbearable. Or so Lil thought, make her want to leave him.
He didn’t yell, scream, or was violent. He was quiet.
He spoke when needed to and that wasn’t much. An instructor in the Army, he left early and came home late.
Lil tried. She tried with everything she had to make up for her mistake and it was a mistake.
After eight years of being together, she didn’t know what got into her, but she was unfaithful to Jack.
The first and last time.
She tried to justify it. He was never home, didn’t pay attention to what she did, and never told her anymore she was beautiful. She longed for the attention and she found it. She found attention and an abundance of guilt. Lil confessed right away. There was no justifying what she did to him or their marriage.
Jack handled it. Calmly. But he was never the same. He kept telling her it would take time, and that was over a year earlier.
Lil loved him and would wait. No matter what it took. Perhaps it would take a deployment. Jack hadn’t said anything to her, but a late night phone call that same night after talking to Branch, took Jack not only from the house but out all night.
Lil knew she’d get her answer on where he was and what was going on, when she heard the door open. When she turned her head. The simple ‘thank you’ from the other room told her a lot, and when Jack’s towering frame appeared in the living room doorway, she knew by the look on his face.
“I got a uni
t. It leaves tonight,” Jack said. He seemed to look through her and not at her.
“That was fast.”
“Seems there was an emergency that came in while I was on the line. They’re looking for SF guys to go in.” He turned. “I have to get my things ready.”
“Jack? Do you know where?”
Jack paused, looked over his shoulder and nodded. He sputtered out the answer as he walked away. “Peru.”
Questioning ‘Peru’, Lil watched him leave then turned back to the computer to look at the headlines. She whispered out, “Peru.”
<><><><>
“Peru?” Irma stood in the doorway of her bedroom watching Saul finish packing a small duffle bag. “Saul, this is why I agreed to move to Atlanta. For you to be director, so you didn’t have to leave.”
Saul didn’t pack much. Two shirts, underwear, slacks and shaving kit.
“Saul?”
“Irma sweetheart, I have to go.”
“Under whose orders?”
“Mine.” He zipped the bag hard and fast. “I know this is short notice, but the plane is waiting. I can’t expect my people to put themselves in harm’s way if I don’t do it myself. They’ve already sent a team of special forces down there to …”
“Special forces.” Irma gasped. “Saul, should you be going. It sounds more dangerous than fighting a virus.”
Saul lifted his bag.
“What’s going on? You got that call, went to the office, came home and packed. Talk to me Saul.”
Saul approached her, standing close. “Katherine’s dead.”
Irma shook her head. “The virus?”
“The virus didn’t kill her Irma. The soldiers had to.”
“What?”
“She got infected with whatever this bacterium is, and it made her mad. Like a dog.”
“Rabid.”
“We think it is a form of rabies. Something to that affect.”
“What about the others?”
After an inhale, Saul spoke. “We have about three hundred like that. Right now they are detained.”
“But what are you gonna do, Saul? What can you do? There is no cure.”
“No, there isn’t. My job isn’t to cure it or help those who have gone mad. My job, Irma is to do what I am best at. Trace it, and make sure every stone is turned. Every corner covered. Make sure that nothing or no one got out of the sick camp. Cause if someone did and we don’t know about it. God help us.”
Irma laid her hand on Saul’s cheek, leaned in and kissed him. “Come home to me. Call me. Please. Be careful.”
All Saul could do was nod, return the kiss, turn and walk out.
CHAPTER NINE
Carancus, Puno, Peru
Sgt. Jack Edwards arrived via Army transport plane, landing on a make shift strip in the middle of nowhere Peru. That’s what the pilot said. It was just after dark, the journey to where he was needed would take a half an hour through dirt roads. He and seven other men. More would join them, but they were the first elite team to arrive. To aid and assist the soldiers already there.
He wasn’t given much situation details. Just that health situation has erupted, rabies of some sort, and those infected were currently quarantined.
So why the need for Special Forces?
It was the first time in a long time he had been in the field and not been in charge. An E-8, but he had stepped back from the field missions to the textbooks. Three years prior he did so to make his marriage better, to be stable and at home. Little did he know it would make things worse.
Eight months earlier his wife cheated. For the first two months he ignored her as if she were trash, working all the time and going out after, just to avoid seeing her. He wasn’t ready to end it, but he wasn’t ready to make it work.
Even though his bitterness called upon him to strike out at her, betray her, indulge with someone else. He didn’t. He remained, despite his anger, a hundred percent faithful.
He healed some in two months, stating he’d stay in the marriage, but admittedly Jack didn’t do anything to make the marriage get better. They spoke briefly, not much nor meaningful, and the same was said for their sex life. Not much, brief, and not meaningful.
He knew she was sorry, he knew she tried, but it became easier to stay cold than it was to warm back up and chance the hurt.
The daily kisses and intermittent phone calls that were common place for years in their marriage were gone.
Half the time Jack was torn between wanting to give into to how much he loved her, and fighting it.
But undeniably he was still in love with his wife.
How long had it been since he told her?
Riding in the back of the covered truck Jack found himself in that percentage of time where he wanted to give into the love of his wife.
It had been years since he was away from home and years since they spent longer than a few days apart.
He had forgotten what it felt like.
He didn’t know if it was being away or the mission that attributed to the weird feeling that crawled in his gut. Either way, he didn’t like what he felt and he sought a sense of security, and possibly closure.
Before getting the ‘phones off’ order, Jack reached into his bag and grabbed his phone. He hesitated before dialing, but he did.
Two rings and Lil answered the phone hurriedly and with the word, ‘Jack.”
“Lil,” he whispered “I’m here. I don’t know what’s going on or when I’ll be able to call again, I just wanted to call… you know.”
Her gasp was loud, emotional and it carried to him, “Thank you so much for calling me.”
“I gotta go.”
“Jack, be careful.”
“I will. Thank you. And I’ll uh, I’ll call you. I … I promise.”
She sniffed, possibly a tear filled sniffle. “Bye, Jack.”
“Lil.”
“Yeah.”
A pause. “I …I’m still in love with you.”
Another emotional breath escaped her and carried to him. “I love you too, Jack. I love you too.”
Jack closed the phone and closed his eyes before shutting it off altogether. He not only wanted to do that he needed to talk to his wife. A need he strongly felt. And as he approached his destination, Jack supposed he’d find out why that need was crying out to him.
<><><><>
There were four of them and every hour on the hour they had to patrol the small town of Carancus, it was like a ghost town, cleared out long before when the ‘sick’ raid was made. But just to be sure, the Army had four soldiers ride through the town, to make certain no one returned.
One did an air sample reading, everything was normal.
But they took no chances and wore respirators.
The air sample soldier was a Captain. Steven Long had been a biological warfare expert for some time. Not the top in his field, but an active member of his specialty.
He walked ahead of the jeep, pacing the search. A hundred more feet they’d be clear, be able to turn around.
Steven looked forward to returning to his tent, make shift lab and checking out those samples. He wanted to bring to Dr. Manning’s attention the attack rate of the bacteria and how it differed.
Steven himself wanted to know what was causing the difference, and the search of the town was a waste of time.
Or so he thought.
Several minutes earlier, he believed he saw a shadow, but it was so fast, small, it had to have been an animal. He didn’t really think much about it until he heard that noise.
A clanking, like something dropping.
Holding up his hand first to halt the jeep, Steven then pointed to where he believed the noise was coming from.
He swung his air sample pack behind him and brought his weapon forward.
The jeep stopped, and two of the soldiers stepped from it.
Again the noise sounded and Steven was able to ear-zoom on where it was coming from. With a motioning twitch of his head, he po
inted to the last small house.
The jeep inched its way up and the other two soldiers followed directly behind.
“Careful, Captain,” the one whispered.
Steven nodded as he approached the door. It was ajar.
Knowing what he was dealing with or could possibly deal with he stepped back and opened the door with his foot.
“Light,” he requested.
Through a thin layer of mist the beam of the light aimed in toward the single room. It illuminated a child, a boy to be exact. He sat on the floor, playing with a truck. Lifting it, dropping it, lifting it again.
“Son,” Steven called out. “You shouldn’t be here alone.”
The boy turned his head in a snap, his face caught the beam. His eyes were dead of life, his face drawn and white, dried blood laced his chin. He widened his mouth with a snarl.
Steven aimed his weapon.
He was going to shoot, and he almost did, until the child returned to playing with the truck.
<><><><>
The Army set up was located about a hundred yards from the ‘site’. Jack and the other men disembarked from the truck. The platoon sergeant instructed them that they would walk the perimeter with the other soldiers until more troops arrived.
What was going on? There was an air of tension, a jeep zipped by him not even beeping. Four soldiers and a child. Jack didn’t pay much attention to who was in the jeep. He did however pay attention to the Specialist.
Jack found amusement in a specialist. The young man rattled on about space illness and how this was an alien thing brought in by the meteor.
Jack hadn’t even heard about the meteor, he thought the kid was joking until someone else confirmed it.
A meteor landed and people were ill. That was just nuts, Jack thought. Then his thoughts went to Lil, and how she loved shit like that. How if he had even spoken to her briefly, he probably would have been pretty informed. Guaranteed she would have rambled just like the specialist.
The tents were dark, no lights whatsoever and it looked like an abandoned concentration camp. Barbed wired fence high and doubled circled the circumference.
Darlings of Decay Page 14
