by Nancy Smith
“Do you think we’ll have time to visit the canyons?” Amanda asked.
“Not this trip. In and out. Fast as we can.” Jesus couldn’t stand her look of disappointment. “We’ll see. Maybe a quick look.”
Jesus and Amanda checked in with a local doctor who had agreed to allow use of his clinic for distributing the vaccines. The doctor, Marco Raya, had gathered his patients and advertised with other local doctors. People were lined up; about half were Americans seeking cheap health care; half were the Mexicans from the region. The news reports of this virulent and persistent virus had scared them, so even the patient who came in with a broken leg from falling while hiking had also wanted the vaccine.
Jesus pulled out tiny vials of vaccine from his ice chest. The vials were stoppered in two colors: orange and mint green. The stoppers were sealed with wax and set into cases that held each vial in place so it could not shift or fall while in transit.
“The orange stoppers are full strength vaccine. These should be given to the strong and healthy. The green stoppers are for more vulnerable people: elders, children, sick, you know. It’s a safer dose, but may not be as effective.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Two strengths of vaccine,” Amanda said, but she set up her station with both kinds of doses, eyedroppers, and sugar cubes.
“Double glove,” he warned. He held out an orange dose for her. “Take your medicine and then on with the face mask.”
She gently pushed away the orange dose. “I have a little heart thing. I think I’ll try the lesser dose.”
“Heart thing?” he asked.
“Just a little murmur.”
He switched the orange dose for the mint green one and watched as she took it. He popped his own medicine and covered his own nose and mouth with a mask.
By the afternoon of the second day, they had exhausted their supply of the vaccine.
“Why didn’t you bring more?” Amanda asked.
Jesus shrugged. “This is what they gave me.”
She flashed her glowing white-teeth smile. “Next time, we’ll bring more.”
He beamed back at her. He didn’t tell her it was likely a funding thing and there may not be a next time. “Yes,” he said. Maybe there would be follow-up. Jesus thought he was falling in love with this gorgeous girl with her stunning smile. He wanted there to be a second trip.
They packed up the car with their few belongings.
“Just twenty miles to Copper Canyon,” she said hopefully.
“Okay,” he complied.
“Yeah.” She gave him a little hug.
But they didn’t make it to Copper Canyon. Around a blind curve, six bandits with machine guns waited for them.
6
Isa warmed up the vegan casserole. It smelled okay. She sampled a spoonful without actually tasting it. She put a small portion on a plate for herself. She had no appetite, but Rory insisted that she eat. She loaded up a plate for him. She and Rory sat at the dining table where she had sat with Blanche hours earlier in the day.
“What did you do all day?” asked Rory.
“People called or came by. I talked to them. Some people may do individual funerals, but we are also talking about a joint memorial service.”
Rory gave her the blank stare of a guy who had no idea how to respond.
“You? How did your day go?” Isa asked.
“It keeps getting curiouser and curiouser.”
“Why? What?”
“The people who died were not taken to the city morgue. I have a friend who works in the morgue and she has no idea where they went.”
“What?”
Rory knew that he was talking about Isa’s parents. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be—”
Isa cut him off. “Maybe there were too many,” she skipped over the word bodies, “for the morgue.”
“I asked that. Harry, my friend, she says no.”
“Could still be some special place.”
Rory shrugged.
“Maybe there was something wrong with them. Maybe some sort of contagion. They did work with dangerous viruses at the lab.”
“Police think that. It’s one of their theories.” Rory said. He politely pushed his food around on his plate with his fork.
“At the lab there were three teams, all working on different things,” Isa said.
Rory nodded.
“But all the teams also worked on one project, the primary project, looking for the universal vaccine.”
“What’s that? The universal vaccine?”
“The flu virus alters every year. Usually gets worse.”
“Why is that?”
“Too many people. We live in crowded cities and move all over the globe with ease. It used to be that when there was a bad breakout, they could contain it. It’s harder to do that now.”
Rory set down his fork. Isa could tell Rory didn’t much like Blanche’s casserole.
“One of the most important questions in vaccines relates to how the virus is transmitted,” she continued. “Most new viruses come from animals. For example, Ebola, SARS, and MERS all came from bats that had moved into populated areas as people encroached on their homes. These viruses are transmitted by direct contact with body fluids. They are deadly if you make contact.” She emphasized the word.
Rory pushed his plate aside. He got out his notebook and began to write.
“But other viruses are airborne. They spread by coughing or sneezing. These viruses are contagious. Scientists are afraid of a new virus for which people have no immunity. They are especially fearful of a virus that is both deadly on contact and contagious. That’s why they seek a flu vaccine that will work for all the subtypes of flu—the universal vaccine. Researchers are very close.”
“Do you know how it works?”
“A little. I’ve heard quite a few speeches on the topic,” Isa said. “Flu vaccines bind antibodies to the virus to keep it from infecting cells. The universal vaccine does this too, but also uses white blood cells to destroy infected cells. The idea is to prevent a flu pandemic that could kill millions.”
“I assume something like that would be worth billions to big pharma?”
“I suppose, but it wouldn’t be very effective unless it was available to everyone regardless of their ability to pay.”
Rory rolled his eyes. Like that would stop them from making a profit. “How close to finding this universal vaccine were your parents?”
“I don’t really know, but I think they were there. Mom scheduled a meeting with the funders over six months ago. She wouldn’t do that unless she had something to report.” Isa retrieved her list of people in contact with her parents. “There were also a couple of drug companies that had approached one or the other of my parents about making a move to them, but I don’t think either of my parents were taking those job offers very seriously.”
“Maybe that’s why the companies had to resort to desperate measures to get their vaccine.”
“It’s a theory.” Isa said.
“Who?” Rory asked.
Isa wrote down the names and addresses of the companies that had approached her parents.
“I’ll go visit them tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Isa had to admit Rory was being very helpful. She felt comfortable with him.
“Let’s take a break from all this,” Rory said. “Let’s go somewhere and get some real food, maybe a couple of beers.”
Rory drove a silver Toyota Avalon Hybrid.
“Perfect car for hiding on a crowded street. Normal. Nondescript.”
“Beige,” Isa said.
Rory pulled into his two-car garage at his one-story ranch house. A second car was under a canvas cover. Rory pulled back the sheet to reveal an old convertible.
“It’s a 1987 Mercedes Benz Roadster,” he informed her. “Used to be my father’s car. We worked on it together, kept it up for many years. He gave it to me when I moved to Austin to go to the LBJ School of Public Affairs. I drove it all the w
ay here from Kansas City.”
Rory was obviously proud and Isa wanted to say something appropriate. She decided on “beautiful.”
“Perfect car for an evening drive with a beautiful woman.” He opened the passenger door, brushed a few leaves off the seat with his hand and held egress for her. “Just let me run in and get the keys.”
He didn’t invite her inside his house. She would have liked to see how he lived, take a peek around. She got out of the car and ambled over to the door. She had just pushed it open when he reappeared.
“Oh. Did you need something?”
She mumbled no and got back into the car.
In a few minutes they were backing out of his driveway and touring their town.
“There’s a hoodie in the back in case you get chilly and a covered rubber band in the ashtray if you want to tie up your hair.”
Hmm. Not the first female he’s taken touring in this car. Isa took him up on the use of the rubber band. She smoothed her hair as best she could and pulled it into a stumpy ponytail. Otherwise, it would whip her face for the entire drive.
Isa thought about asking him if he thought this was a date but decided not to give that idea any credence in either of their minds. She examined the symmetrical, regular features of his face as he drove. He had a perfect nose. Not too long or too short. No bumps. Very straight. His lips were full and completely kissable. And those eyelashes. Isa could see them even in the dark. There was no doubt about it. He was pretty.
As they turned on the hilly, winding road that led to the lake, she had to admit it was pleasant to forget her troubles and relax. She thought they were going to one of the restaurants on Lake Travis until Rory turned off on the city park road. She sat back and enjoyed the snaking ride through craggy hills.
They stopped at a burger joint right on Lake Austin. It was remote from the bothers of the city, mostly surrounded by parkland and the homes of rich people. It was in the last days of August, so most of the evenings were still hot. Isa wondered if it might cool off on the water, but decided not and tossed the hoodie in the back seat as she exited the car.
Rory took her hand as they walked across the dirt parking lot to the building. If it walks like a couple, talks like a couple... hmm. Isa wondered how she felt about this; she thought she liked it.
Isa followed Rory as he walked to the water’s edge and sat at a picnic table on a deck. It was like being on a mini-vacation. Isa thought about how hot it had been. She thought about how parched she had gotten walking home from school day after day. She was looking forward to the maybe month’s worth of autumn that would soon come.
The dock along which the tables sat was more crowded than she expected since as many people had arrived by boat as by car. They all sat companionably and watched the last runs of the jet skiers on the lake before the sun went completely down.
“It’s nice.” Isa said. “Pleasant out here.”
They ordered burgers and brews, and had just gotten down to eating when Rory inclined his head.
“What?”
He added a slight nod. “From the Continental.”
Isa whipped her head around. “SUV guy? Why’s he following us?”
“More likely you than me, but who’s to say?”
Isa openly glared at SUV guy. He was tall, probably about 6’2” and muscular. He had a baby face that likely wouldn’t age well, but probably made him the most popular boy in high school. He had a stiff and straight way of holding himself that screamed former military.
He stood and approached their table. Rory jumped to his feet, ready for whatever came. Her protector.
SUV guy held out his hand. “Peabody,” he said.
“Peabody,” Rory repeated.
“No, Peabody is my name. What’s yours?”
“Burke,” Rory answered.
She assumed they just did last names in a pissing contest. Rory gave Peabody a hard, single shake. Very manly. Macho.
“I’ve got a great friend. Name’s Nick Calhone. Known him for years.”
Rory watched him warily.
“He’s gone missing. You know anything about that?”
“Never heard of him,” Rory said.
Peabody moved his steady gaze over to Isa.
“No. I don’t know him either,” she said. “Why are you following me? What have I done?”
Peabody’s gaze stayed on her for another twenty seconds and then he walked away.
Rory pulled out his notebook and wrote down the names Peabody and Nick Calhone. He pulled out his phone and browsed. Nothing came up.
Peabody watched from his seat at the other end of the pier.
“That man, Peabody, came to my house. He showed me ID. His name wasn’t Peabody. It was something else. Williams, I think.”
“Williams?”
“Yes, I recall thinking that it was one of the most common names in the United States. I thought it was part of a disguise.”
“Do you recall a first name?”
Isa shook her head. “What does he want?” she asked.
“It is a wonder why they would still be following you around. They don’t seem to want to capture you or interrogate you—just keep an eye on you. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Further,” Isa said.
“What?”
“Interrogate me further. I’ve already spent several hours with him.” Isa looked at her burger. “I don’t think I can swallow now,” she said.
7
Jesus hadn’t seen Amanda in three days. He wanted to ask the main guy about her.
The main guy never carried a gun. He wore black on black, looking like Johnny Cash right down to his belt and boots. He was calm. He was dangerous. He was in control.
All the other men also dressed nicely in mostly jeans and tees or button-down shirts. They wore trainers or boots and belts with many extra ammo clips for their guns.
The camp to where Jesus and Amanda had been delivered was organized. There was a collection of old adobe-brick huts with tin roofs surrounding a Quonset-type prefabricated building. In the main building were satellite phones and computers hooked to their own source of Internet connectivity. Jesus assumed that they had a satellite tower on top of the mountains somewhere. Several men sat around making calls in Spanish, English, and what he thought was Japanese. He didn’t overhear too much of the conversations—just enough to know that they were negotiating ransom demands.
First thing when they arrived, he was separated from Amanda. This Quonset hut was the first place they took him. Someone took his keys and drove off in his rental car. Gone. Around the edges of the walls were bins. They took his wallet, pulling out the cash and tossing it in one bin and the credit cards into another. They took his wedding ring and threw it into a bin full of gold items. They bypassed the bin for silver as he wore none, but he could see Amanda’s big loop earrings inside. They took his shoes and placed them on a rack and then took his clothes until he was down to nothing but his briefs. They tossed the clothes into a laundry basket and handed him a dirty blanket to wrap around himself. He assumed that his clothes would be washed and returned to the wardrobe bars that contained other clothes, lots of clothes.
A skinny bandit went to the rack and picked out a leather coat. The main guy gave him a look that clearly communicated that the coat was his. The skinny bandit then selected a nice wool jacket in navy blue. Jesus guessed that he knew why they all dressed so nicely.
The main guy held up the ice chest.
“Will you please tell me what this ice chest held?” Perfect English. Very polite.
“We brought flu vaccine to the village of Creel.”
“Then where is it?”
“We were done. We were going home.”
“I see,” said the main guy. He looked at Jesus. “May I ask who you would like to call to pay your fee?”
It dawned on Jesus that he would die before he could give them the name of his employer. “Sadly,” he said, “I have no one.”
; “You wore a wedding ring.”
“She’s gone. Left last spring. I don’t know where she went.”
The main guy nodded to the skinny bandit who punched him once in the gut.
Main Guy and Skinny Bandit waited for him to tell them something to save his life.
Polite for polite, Jesus asked, “May I ask what has become of Miss Sanger?”
“Ah, Dr. Martinez. Miss Sanger is very well. Very well indeed.”
“May I see her?”
“Alas, that can not be.”
Main Guy nodded and Skinny Bandit punched him again.
Jesus was just a puddle of blood and bruised skin. He was being stored in an old adobe hut with a dirt floor and a battered tin roof. He lay in the dirt on his side because if he lay on his back he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to get up, think of a plan of escape, but he hadn’t the energy.
He heard footsteps and closed his eyes hoping if they thought he was asleep, they wouldn’t disturb him.
But they came through the door and pulled him to his feet and handed him a pair of jeans and a tee shirt – no shoes. They dragged him to another hut, similar to his own. He’d not been here before.
Main Guy stood at the door.
“Dr. Martinez. Your friend, Miss Sanger, is not feeling very well. Will you please take a look at her?”
Alarmed, Jesus pushed through the door. Amanda lay on a mattress on the floor. She was barely recognizable. She had not been physically beaten as he had, but he hated to think of other abuses they may have inflicted on her. But even from the door, he knew what was wrong with Amanda. She was shivering with fever, mucus poured from her nose and she coughed between bouts of vomiting.
“She has the flu,” Jesus said. He noticed two or three of the bandits were also beginning to show symptoms. “Do you have any medical supplies?” he asked.
Main Guy nodded.
“I need saline drips and antibiotics. We should cordon off any of your men who are showing the same signs of illness. Nobody should come near them without a mask and gloves.”
8
Rory was surprised that Isa hadn’t pressured him about coming along on the interviews with the drug companies. He hadn’t planned to let her accompany him, but he thought she would argue with him at least. But she didn’t. Of course, she was in shock at her parent’s deaths. She was despondent and at times unfocused, but she also wasn’t telling all she knew. She had her own agenda that she was not sharing with him. It was starting to piss him off. Did Isa not trust him?
