“That sucks,” Hervé replied. “You’re a great dad.”
“Mr. Hader, I …”
“I know,” Matt said, holding his hand to her. “You’re doing your job. I’m sorry. And pop by anytime. You can see them yourself.” He walked to the door and opened it. “They just got back from vacation and they’re in great health. Have a good day. Thanks again, Herv.”
Matt left the deli, pulling the door closed behind him. He wasn’t going to let running into that woman ruin his day. He just wanted to get home and spend a nice quiet and calm day with his girls.
◆◆◆
Luke Bridges knew her right away when he saw her standing at the deli counter in the supermarket. He couldn’t help but look at her. Marge Hader. She was one of the people he had to write a letter to. A lump formed in his throat and he was frozen in his stance.
“Oh, it’s on sale,” Marge said. “Give me a pound of the chipped ham. I’ll make barbecues tonight, they’re easy.” She smiled at the deli worker.
“Luke,” Melinda, his mother, whispered behind him. “Let’s go.”
“I …”
“Luke, I know what you’re thinking. Please don’t do this to yourself,” Melinda said.
“I’m not doing enough. I need them to know.”
“Sweetie, these people have been through a lot.”
Luke stepped from his mother when Marge backed away from the deli. “Mrs. Hader.”
Marge placed her deli meat in her buggy and turned to the call of her name. Her smile dropped and her facial expression showed shock for a second, before she smiled again.
“I’m …”
“Luke,” she said softly. “I know. How are you?” she asked him.
“Me. I’m … I’m doing okay,” Luke replied nervously. “How are you?”
Marge exhaled. “Tired. Just got back from vacation. Think I may have caught a little bug. Who knows? Then again. I took the girls and they are a handful.”
“That will do it,” Luke said.
“Luke, honey,” Melinda walked up to him. “We have to go.”
“Melinda, how are you?” Marge asked. “You’re looking well. They have chipped ham on sale, and you know that never happens.”
“I’ll have to pick some up.” Melinda tugged on Luke’s arm.
Luke didn’t budge. His voice turned serious. “Mrs. Hader. I know this isn’t the time or the place. But I need you to please know how sorry …”
“Luke.” Marge stopped him, reached out and placed her hands over his. “Listen to what I am going to say to you.” She squeezed his hands tight. “I have your letters. They’re safe and sound, tucked away for the girls when they’re older. We all have lost. You know what we’re going through, right?”
Luke nodded.
Still holding his hand, Marge spoke gently. “Good. Because for the life of me, I cannot imagine what you are going through. What you are carrying. It has to be tremendous for someone so young. I know … I know it was an accident. For what it’s worth, know that I forgive you.” She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “I forgive you.”
Luke felt the emotion well in his eyes, and before he could say anything, Marge embraced him. “Thank you,” he said to her.
Marge stepped back with a smile. “Now …” she exhaled. “I better …” she cleared her throat. “I better get home and take that nap. I’m feeling tired. You two have a good day. And get that ham.” She waved a finger with a smile, turned and stopped.
Luke noticed she wasn’t moving. “Mrs. Hader?”
Almost rigidly, Marge turned. She faced him, her face instantly drained of color. Slowly her mouth opened as if she were going to speak, but before words could emerge, Marge teetered forward and collapsed.
Luke was right there, he was fast and able to grab onto her before she hit the ground. “Mrs. Hader!” With the weight of Marge in his arms, Luke lowered both of them to the floor.
“Someone call for help!” Melinda shouted.
“Mom?” Luke said with a whimper. “She’s not breathing. She’s not breathing.”
Melinda hurriedly reached out feeling Marge’s neck, then arms. “She doesn’t have a pulse.” She placed her hand on Marge’s chest. “Luke, lay her down.”
“What?”
“Lay her down.” Melinda dropped her purse and helped Luke position Marge on the floor. “Help me. You do compressions.”
Luke didn’t know if anyone had called for an ambulance, but people had gathered, someone was yelling for them to back up. He was scared, it all seemed surreal.
“Luke.” Melinda called him again. “Now.”
She was in position, holding Marge’s head, preparing to do breaths.
Luke had taken a Red Cross class a year before, but suddenly, everything he learned was lost. How many compressions was it? His mind spun. He looked down to Marge who looked gray. Her eyes were open and they seemed to have lost all life.
Luke cupped his hands to help his mother perform CPR. He had to try, even though in his heart he knew Mrs. Hader was already gone.
She had died … that fast.
18 – MORE THAN YOU KNOW
Magnificent Jewel – Cruise Ship
Glen donned the paper facemask, googles and gloves to brave the ship with his camera. He originally had no intention of leaving his stateroom. He had spent the entire day before seeing how long people waited for a doctor, going floor to floor and getting footage. He had enough of a story to scare the hell out of him, he just wanted to stay put and sleep.
After talking to Eve it was what he did. He had a nightcap and crashed.
A steady pounding on his door stirred him just before one p.m. Glen didn’t want to answer it. He replied such.
“I’m not opening this door. Not with all that’s going on,” he said.
“Mr. McDaniels, you wanted to get your story and broke rules to do so,” the male replied. “Now, we’re asking you to cover it. To not sneak about.”
“My reporter is not here.”
“We know. She is in a suite and hasn’t been exposed. Unfortunately, you have. You know that.”
Finally, Glen peeked through the peep hole. He saw the captain standing there with a mask and googles.
“Please.” He held up a plastic bag. “For your protection. I’ll place this down and step away from the door.”
Glen watched the captain crouch out of view, then after grabbing his energy drink and taking a swig, he partially opened the door and grabbed the bag.
In it were his protective items and Glen placed them on.
He opened the door again, leaving it that way and grabbed his camera.
“Thank you for doing this,” the Captain said. “I know you leaked footage to BNN. We received word the story is going to break soon.”
“Why hasn’t it already?” Glen asked.
“I think the government and the health officials are trying to figure out what exactly to say.”
“It’s a scary situation.”
“Very much so.” The Captain led him down the hall to the elevator. “This is day four of this cruise. The first evening we had four people sick. By morning over a hundred. The next day it grew even more. We were preparing a ship wide quarantine and returning to port when one of our sick wandered off and died on deck yesterday, we had to shut things down.”
“Did you know what you’re dealing with?”
The Captain shook his head. “Not at all. We couldn’t get an answer. We just knew whatever it was spread fast and this morning we lost a hundred and three people. That number is growing, the crew has been knocking on doors all morning, trying to get a count. Asking people who aren’t sick to stay in their rooms. But they can only do that so long. They need food. Eventually my crew won’t be able to deliver it.” They stepped on the elevator and the Captain pressed a button.
“How many are sick?” Glen asked.
“Right now, over half the ship. We estimate by tonight two thirds, by tomorrow ... who knows.” Th
e carriage stopped and they stepped off the elevator. “At first we were ordered to cut the internet and phones. But that has been lifted about an hour ago and your network will run the story first.”
“Makes you wonder if it’s responsible of us to break the story,” Glen said. “I just think of the panic, you know.”
The Captain nodded and stopped at the long hall way before the main ballroom. “We are not going to port, we are not carrying whatever this is there. Unfortunately, I am told this thing has already hit our shores. People need to know. They need to know what they are facing. Prepare your camera. As dismal as this is, this is footage you’ll want to get.” He grabbed one of the doors. “We are at the point where we cannot help anymore ill. There is nothing we can do. This room holds a thousand people.” He opened the door. “With all the other main rooms and ballrooms filled with ill, this is the last and only place to put them.”
“The sick?” Glen asked and raised his camera.
“No,” the Captain pushed the door wider. “The dead.”
Glen stopped before he pressed record. His stomach knotted and he instantly wanted to vomit. Only a quarter of the ballroom floor was visible, the remainder was carpeted with bodies, covered in sheets, blankets and table cloths. “My God,” Glen gasped. “You and your crew, it’s a good thing you’re wearing masks.”
“It’s more for you than me,” replied the Captain. “By tomorrow my guess is I’ll not be able to do much. I’m already sick. Consider yourself lucky.”
Was he, though? Glen had already been around all the ill without the mask. At that second, he felt his throat tighten up, a twinge of pain hit his ear and his body began to shiver.
It had to be his nerves, his fear or a psychosomatic reaction.
Even with the flu being this bad, it had come on him too fast to be anything more than his imagination at this moment.
◆◆◆
National Emerging Infectious Diseases Laboratories (NEIDL), Boston, MA
Never in all his years of service to the World Health Organization did Conner imagine he would be packing it in.
In every scenario that raced through his mind he saw himself on the front lines, caring for the ill, overseeing the science as it brilliantly found a solution.
It could have been done and ended. He explained to Senator Graham, if Petit and his people would have let them know of a breach when it happened, they could have traced Pettit’s route and quarantined everyone ending it.
Even if they had only a day or two it would have been hard, but possible to stop it.
But France and WHO didn’t learn about it until four days after Petit felt his first symptom. By then it was far too late.
He had called his wife and told her to not leave the house and to do an inventory of every food option in the house.
His private plane from Boston was leaving in an hour and there was nothing more Conner could do.
He wanted to be out of the city and in the air when BNN broke the news and the president made his speech.
His final last moments in Boston were with the senator on a speaker phone call with the president in a conference room at NIEDL.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” the president sighed loudly. “My speech writer is here, we’re working together. What do I say?”
Conner kicked back in a chair, rocking some as he tapped his pen over and over. “Let the news story break then explain why there is no press conference. Start it that way. It is too contagious.”
“Do we know what BNN is going to report?”
“Just on the ship,” Conner said. “The events happening on the ship. Which pretty much paints a picture of what the world will see. You will segue that into what’s happening.”
“Do you have all the information forwarded to the Secretary of Health?” asked the president.
“We do.”
Senator Graham leaned into the table with folded hands. “Mr. President, sir, we cannot urge you enough to retreat to the bunker so there is a working government after this crisis.”
The president released an airy chuckle. “You really think this is going to get to that point? A collapse to the point we need to secure a working government for after?”
“Yes,” Senator Graham replied. “In fact, it is imperative that you urge and possibly make it mandatory that everyone stay indoors. Only very essential services should be out there.”
“Self-quarantine,” Conner said. “The more people that stay in, the better chance we have of surviving this. It will die out eventually. People have to wait it out and hunker down.”
“For how long?” the president asked.
“Four weeks. Longer is better,” Conner answered.
“You can’t tell people to lock themselves in their homes for a month,” the president said. “Aside from the fact they will not have enough food.”
“American people have always been told to have two weeks’ worth of food,” Conner replied. “They can leave, but it’s at their own risk. We need to shut down the country.”
“Then we really will have a breakdown,” said the president. “Riots, chaos.”
“It won’t last long,” Senator Graham said. “They’ll get sick, too, the ones causing problems.”
“And we’re sure this is the answer. Christ, you remember what the world got like with Ebola ...”
“This ...” Conner cut him off. “Is not Ebola. God, I wish it was, but it isn’t.”
“What?” The president barked in shock.
“This is as deadly as Ebola,” Conner said. “According to Marvin’s research there is a 10% percent chance of survival if you get it. That’s being lucky. And Ebola is nothing as far as being contagious goes compared to this. This is airborne. Ebola is not. The R Naught of Ebola is around two.”
“What does that mean?” The president asked.
“It means the number of people a sick person will infect. One person with Ebola will infect two people over the course of their illness.”
“And this one?” asked the president.
“Marcum suggests its twenty-four,” replied Conner.
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“No, really it doesn’t,” Conner said calmly. “But let me give you some scary math facts.” He pulled a sheet of paper forward. “Let’s go with a low end R Naught of twenty. That’s averaging it out. Petit infected nine on the plane and thirty in his lab, but his security guard only infected four. So, we’ll say twenty. Ever watch one of those plague movies, or read a book that made it look like everyone in the world died in a week?”
“Yes.”
“Here’s how that’s possible. I’m going to go with global averages. You can apply the same figures to any town, city or state, it all works out the same,” Conner said. “The TSA worker caught it on the twenty-seventh. We are calling that day one. On the twenty-eighth he infected his R Naught figure of twenty. Are you following me?”
“I am,” the president replied.
“On the twenty-ninth, which is day three, twenty people were infected and contagious. Those people then go on to infect twenty people each. Day four we now have four hundred people infected and contagious. Day five … eight thousand. Those eight thousand go out and each infect twenty people, on day six, yesterday, the day we learned about it … one hundred and sixty thousand people are already infected. By the end of day seven, which is today … we will have three point two million people infected. Still, if you think about it, not bad right, less than one percent of the US population. But here’s where it gets frightening. When those three million, not symptomatic, go out and each infect twenty measly people, by the end of tomorrow … sixty-four million. Day after tomorrow ... one point two billion, and the day after that …” Conner stopped talking.
“The day after that?” the president asked. “What?”
“Just do the math. Day eight, day after tomorrow …” Conner said. “Extinction.”
19 – PILING ON
Franklin,
PA
The sound of the animated movie carried to Matt before he even opened the front door. A sure sign to him Stew was watching the movie. He always had the volume extra loud, plus the closed captions.
He stepped inside the house and he could see Stew seated on the couch, his back facing Matt.
As soon as Matt closed the door, Stew looked over his shoulder, put his finger to his mouth with a ‘shh’, then pointed down.
Emma was sound asleep curled against Stew.
“Little afternoon Siesta,” Stew said softly. “I should have turned it off, but damned if this isn’t a good movie.”
“Some are,” Matt said, walking in. “So the girls were good?”
“Always.”
“Where’s Hannah?”
Stew carefully moved Emma from him and stood. “She’s upstairs playing. Matt ... Hannah seems a little sluggish. I checked her levels, they’re good. She had her insulin, I don’t know.”
“When did you check her levels last?”
“About an hour ago,” Stew replied. “She says she is okay. Just ...”
“Sluggish?”
Stew nodded. “For lack of a better word.”
“Well, my dad has been complaining too, my mom says she’s tired. They did just get back from Disney.”
“Traveling will do that.”
“Yeah, so ...” Matt paused when his phone rang. He lifted it from his pocket and looked. “Speaking of my parents.” He answered the phone. “Hey, Dad, I just walked ...” he paused. “Oh my God. When?” Another pause. “On my way.” He put the phone down and moved about left to right, frazzled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can you stay with the girls?” Matt asked, rushing to the door.
“Absolutely, what ...”
“My mom had a heart attack.” Without saying any more, Matt raced out.
◆◆◆
Magnificent Jewel – Cruise Ship
Eve applied a last little bit of powder makeup around her eyes. She groaned. “I look awful, but thank you for loaning me some cosmetics.”
Plague Book: One Final Gasp Page 9
