There was a half-hearted attempt to shovel the stray bits into the incinerator and the suited men all doffed their protective gear in a well-disciplined fashion. The suits were tossed into the incinerator as well and the door clanged shut with a metal grinding squeak.
After the mystery crew filed out of the door to some kind of bus outside, Duane and his crew looked at each other in amazement. It was eerily quiet in the middle of the night and all Duane could think about was getting the footage uploaded to the website
By 6 AM the videos were edited and released to the Sting website. Duane was racing to upload the material in time to hopefully get picked up by the mainstream news cycle this morning. He and the crew scoured the Internet and all social media. They dropped links to the report and teasers everywhere on the web.
By 10 AM there was no word on any of the mainstream media of the report, but the Alt media channels were beginning to run it. Some sites believed the reporting, but most just used it as click-bait for their advertising.
Just when Duane was beginning to think he overdid the report, he caught a glimpse on one of the 4 televisions in his office. His story was being run, but not as a valid journalistic piece. The reporter was using it–along with other fringe videos–as examples of how these crises breed conspiracies.
“Dammit!” Duane said to the room. “We are not being taken seriously. We need more. Who were those men and where did they take the bodies? Let’s get back out to the hospital this afternoon.”
20
Chapter 20
Wednesday, January 10th
Wellington, Florida
Mark was still at the hospital. The three-day scruff on his face was a stark contrast to his normal professional physician look. He woke up in the physician’s rest room after a restless two and a half hours. He stepped over to the sink and splashed some water on his face. He thought about making an effort to clean up. He felt that the people in charge should always set the example, regardless of conditions. As he reached for his trusty electric shaver his pager buzzed and ///911 ER/// scrolled across the small screen.
“Why is every page a 911 emergency?” he muttered to himself.
Mark grabbed his wrinkled lab coat and shuffled out the door.
It is Wednesday morning, he mentally noted. There was usually not much going on in the ER unless there was some sort of mass casualty event. Yet this morning was pandemonium. Director Weasel was there, surrounded by a group of people in scrubs. He seemed to be taking the brunt of some problem.
“Glad you could join us,” the director said.
Mark’s first sleepy instinct was to leave knuckle prints on Jack’s jaw but he knew that would set a bad example. Maybe later.
“What seems to be the problem?” Mark inquired.
A Charge Nurse spoke up first. “We are out of PPE and linens,” referring to the personal protective equipment needed for infection control.
“The Director is telling us to make due. How are we supposed to prevent cross-contamination if we have to wear soiled suits and reuse sheets?”
Jack attempted to intervene. “Everything is on backorder, what am I supposed to do: twinkle my nose and stuff suddenly appears in a cloud of fairy dust?” he asked snidely.
Mark felt the nurses pain.
“You had one job!” Mark said, holding up a single finger. By now the remaining ER staff were watching the confrontation.
“How about you call your Pharmastat buddy Mr. Greed and have him wave his magic wand. Isn’t that what he does? I know for a fact there is an entire supply room in the Pharmastat lab upstairs with enough PPE for the whole hospital.”
Jack looked around wishing he could fire the whole place but knew this was a losing battle. He straightened his tie and said he would look into it as he strutted away, trying to save face.
The ER erupted in applause and everyone went back to work, or at least, made an attempt to.
Not one to wait around for bureaucrats, Mark decided to pay a visit to the Pharmastat lab himself. As he pressed the up-button on the elevator near the ER for the trip up to the 3rd floor lab, Mark noticed a group of men walking down the hall in single file. In all there were about twenty-five. It wasn’t unusual for the halls to be busy but these guys had that hardened look about them. They were dressed in earth tones and various configurations of cargo pants and hiking shoes or boots. Each man had a bag over his shoulder–some looked like day packs and some looked tennis racket-size but without the fancy logos.
Their hair was short and some looked like they just had a cut. Their faces were shaven but pale, as if many of them recently had beards. Four of the men at the end of the line were pushing big rolling cases that Mark recognized as being similar to cases he saw in Liberia when the US Army Chemical Corp arrived to help with the Ebola outbreak.
Thinking to himself that something was definitely happening, Mark attempted to strike up a conversation with the men as they all waited at the elevators.
“Ya’ll here for the meeting?” There was no meeting but Mark just wanted someone to volunteer some information.
No one bit off on the question. They all just stood there, silently waiting for the elevator.
The door opened and Mark entered first, taking a spot at the button panel.
“Where to?” Mark asked.
“Three,” one of the men muttered.
“OK, ladies’ lingerie it is. Remember, you can try them on but you can’t take them home.”
Mark was trying to elicit a response. All the men in the elevator chuckled. At least they aren’t killer robots, Mark thought quietly to himself.
The door opened at the third floor and the men all stepped out. The other elevators opened shortly with the rest of the group and they all walked to the Pharmastat labs reception desk down the hall.
Mr. Greene was already there, awaiting the group’s arrival. Without any introduction, he escorted the men into a conference room and returned moments later to see Mark trying to get some traction with the receptionist, to no avail.
“Dr. Welby,” he said in the usual tone that dripped with poison. “What brings you up to the labs? Certainly, there must be plenty to keep your attention elsewhere.”
Mr. Greene just had a condescending way every time he spoke. Mark was too tired to engage another narcissistic bureaucrat that morning.
“Have you heard from Whesilton regarding the need for PPE and linens?”
“I cannot say that I have,” Greene replied.
“Figures. He had one job today. The hospital inventories are running out and we need more supplies. Can we use some of your lab supplies to hold us over until the deliveries arrive?”
“Let me see what I can do.”
“Great,” Mark muttered.
As he walked back toward the elevators, he stopped after a step and turned back to Greene, who was already typing on his phone.
“What was that all about?” Mark asked, as he pointed toward the conference room.
“Ohhh that. Yes well, they are the new hospital security. The board decided to protect its investment. We fear that the local law enforcement is about to get a little too busy to be of much help here at the labs, I mean at the hospital. You understand of course. Nothing to worry about.”
Something in the way Mr. Greene said labs and corrected to add the hospital made Mark’s neck hairs raise up but he could not put his finger on why.
“Right, of course,” Mark replied, as he turned again toward the elevator.
Mark realized he hadn’t found any coffee yet and headed to the hospital cafeteria for a cup of joe. St. Agatha’s cafeteria was pretty good as far as hospital food went. There was always something available and the dining area was designed to be trendy and comfortable. Pharmastat wanted the research staff to feel like they were at a world class facility. Multiple televisions hung on the walls around the dining area and they were usually tuned to something like TV Land with 70’s and 80’s sitcoms or game shows. Anything to help escape the menta
l pressure of a research and healthcare environment for the numerous employees at the hospital.
Today the TVs were mostly tuned to news channels. The dining area was noticeably less crowded than usual due to people staying home from work, but today each TV had a small crowd gathered around it as the anchors spent most of the time discussing the influenza crisis. Personal interest stories were not as common on the news now that the Shadow Flu had officially jumped international borders.
As Mark poured a cup of coffee he heard the tone of breaking news. He looked up and saw the splash screen on the TV. In big, red, drippy letters, the word PANDEMIC filled the screen with a graphic of a thermometer and a picture of workers in biohazard suits carrying a body bag.
The talking head at the news desk opened with the over-the-top seriousness they put on when the story is bad. He tossed the report to some unknown field reporter who looked to be at a press conference.
“…in just moments we are going to hear from the Governor of Texas and the Director of State Health Services.” The reporter had barely finished the introduction when the camera shifted to a podium with the Texas State Seal. A group of people walked up and the Governor took the lead.
“OK folks. I will make this brief so we can get to the important details.”
He cleared his throat knowing full well that what he was about to say would cause panic and fear nationwide. This would happen no matter how he laid it out. So the Governor jumped right into it, not being a man to mince words.
“As you all know, the influenza season has taken a turn for the worse. This morning, reports of the Shadow Flu have surfaced in Germany, Spain, and the U.K.
“I don’t need to rehash all those details but as of today the State of Texas will join other states in declaring an increased State of Emergency. As you know, we had several localities declared in an effort to stave off the spread of this latest strain of influenza, but as of now the entire State is declared.
“I’ll let the other states speak for themselves, but this thing is moving faster than we can isolate it. With the help of the federal government, Texas will enforce travel restrictions immediately. The Southern Border will be closed to all, I repeat, ALL traffic.”
The room murmured and cameras clicked in rapid succession.
“There will be a ground stop at all airports within the state and we are going to implement local travel restrictions. We need everyone to help out on this one. I know it will be a great inconvenience, but as of tomorrow morning there will be a travel limit of no more than 10 miles from your residence.
“We ask that employers work to provide telecommuting opportunities for all non-essential employees. Law enforcement will be establishing checkpoints throughout the State to enforce this restriction. This situation is not a punishment to our great citizens. This is for everyone’s safety. Like I said, Texas is not the only state with these restrictions. With that, I will present the Director of Health Services, who will offer more specifics on how we can all work together to stop the spread of this illness.”
“Thank you, Governor. I’ll begin with today’s latest numbers. In the last twenty-four hours, there have been 2,356 deaths attributed to the H1N2 virus with an additional 12,548 suspected cases reporting from hospitals. This brings the current total deaths to 56,861 within the State of Texas in the last several weeks. There is currently no dependable method of early detection, and as of today, there is no vaccination.”
Other TVs in room played similar press conferences from Alabama to New Jersey, through the Deep South and into Florida.
Mark had had enough of the reports. In his experience, this confirmed his fears. It was finally happening, the US was experiencing the big one.
As he turned to leave the dining area he saw Mr. Greene also watching the news at a distance from the other viewers. He had an unmistakable grin as he raised his coffee to his lips.
“Something is going on with Pharmastat. But what was it?” Mark pondered to himself.
21
Chapter 21
Wednesday, January 10th
Loxahatchee, Florida
Cal found himself crawling out of bed late in the morning after a restless night. He hadn’t slept well after the trip to Belle Glade. He was glad to have Amber back safe, but the violence was haunting him.
He looked at the clock and realized that he had scheduled a meeting with his project managers that morning. Rushing to get dressed, Cal headed out the door, but not before checking in on the girls.
Amber and Mandy were sharing a queen bed in Amber’s room. Tempest had managed to sneak out of her crib again and was snuggled up with her mom. Charlotte looked to be hanging off the bed more than on it. The baby took up an astonishing amount of space.
Comfortable that everyone was accounted for, he made his way down the hall, but not before tripping over the dog again.
“Do you purposely move to be underfoot?” he said at the dog.
Cal stepped into the office a few minutes after the 9 AM meeting time. He thought the guys were going to rib him for being late, but the two men who showed up did not seem to mind.
“Where is everyone?” Cal asked the guys as he shook the cold, empty coffee pot.
“I called Jose, Dennis, and Steve. Jose did not answer but Steve and Dennis said they were not coming in, that they had family sick at home,” one of the managers replied.
Cal became concerned. At the news of the sick family and said he would reach out to the men.
“Has anyone heard from Susan?” Susan was the backbone of the office. She managed all the admin duties and kept the ship afloat. Susan had no close family and outside of work she lived for her six cats. Somewhere along the way she must have lost trust in relationships with men. No one could ever recall her having a date, much less a romantic relationship.
Just then, Susan came clambering through the door, carrying her usual purse large enough to live out of, a windbreaker, and an umbrella, along with her lunch bag. She looked like she ran to work; she was breathless and pale. Susan was all apologies for being late, she was never late and often Cal had to make her go home at the end of the day.
“Susan, are you ok?” Cal asked.
Taking a moment to catch her breath she replied, “I think the cool air is messing with my COPD. I’ve been feeling under the weather for about a week.”
Cal felt bad for not noticing. But a lot of people seemed ill in the last week. Susan went about her morning ritual of putting away her lunch and Cal offered that she take the day to feel better.
“No, no,” she said trying to breathe. “Don’t be silly. I’m fine. Besides, payroll needs to be run and our receivables are falling behind. The aging report has the bulk of our billing pushing into the 60-90 day range,” Susan pushed back, referring to the time it was taking to get money from customers.
“OK, but if you need to work from home that’s ok too,” Cal offered.
Susan waved him off and set out to Lysol everything, like she did every morning. She was a stickler for sanitation.
Making due with what they had, Cal and the two men set about reshuffling the workload and updating the schedule over the next hour.
Around lunch time, Cal was working at his desk when Charlotte called to check on him.
“Hi love, how is everything?” she asked.
“I am buried in paper hell. How are the girls.”
“They just woke up. I don’t know exactly what you did last night and I am not sure I want to, but Mandy seems to think we are government assassins for some reason. They won’t tell me. She walked into the kitchen and introduced herself and then made a pistol finger and winked like she was in on some big secret.”
“Let’s just say she is impressionable and leave it at that. I’m just glad we got them back,” Cal replied.
“Not to add to your day but have you seen the news?” Charlotte asked.
“No, what happened?”
“There is a Presidential Declared State of Emergency over the
flu,” she continued.
“We knew that from the other day, did something else change?” he pressed.
“A bunch of States have activated the National Guard, and travel restrictions are in place. Airports are being shut down completely and Texas won’t let people drive more than ten miles from home,” Charlotte added.
“Wow, I’ve never heard of that before. This is getting serious. I think we need another group meeting and we should figure out what we need, food-wise,” Cal said.
“Cal, there is mass looting happening in some of the big cities. It may be too late.”
“Ok, let’s do this.” Cal was mentally forming a plan. “Can you call Glendora and touch base with her on getting food for the group? Tell her we don’t expect her to foot the bill. We will make sure she gets paid. I’ll call Mark and see if I can get any information from behind the scenes. I have a lot of people out sick right now. It may be time to put some projects on hold until things smooth out,” Cal said before they hung up.
After they made their usual air kisses on the phone, Cal called on some of his clients with open projects and told them he was going to need to put certain jobs on hold for a while until the flu passed. He felt curious about how most people took this pandemic as a temporary thing. There was a common feeling that this was just an inconvenience and everything would be back to normal in a few weeks.
Susan sounded really bad coughing at her desk and her inhaler was not helping. Cal could see that she was not at all productive and the last thing the company needed was billing and payroll errors. He hatched a plan to convince her to go home. He walked to the back room and flipped the main breaker off. When he returned he acted like he was disappointed.
“Susan, it does not look like we are going to get any work done this afternoon. The city is working on some poles outside. Why don’t you head home. If the power comes back on I’ll call you.”
The Unraveling: Book 1 of the Bound to Survive Series Page 19
