by Lorch, Jeff
I’m pretty sure I was still in shock from reading the news feeds from my phone. Words like “martial law” and “suspension of the Bill of Rights” and “outbreak” and “unknown pandemic” were all swirling around in my head. I checked my phone for the twentieth time; still no reply from my daughter. Despite the noise in the cabin, I had tried call her as well as my parents, but I wasn’t able to get a connection; I would dial the number, but nothing was going through. I had tried to get back to my wife but the congestion of people in the aisle made that impossible. We finally managed to communicate with a combination of hollering (but that only contributed to the chaos around us) and hand gestures. She hadn’t heard any more than I had and didn’t know what was happening either.
Finally, the din around me started to settle as people slowly and reluctantly returned to their seats, as though doing so was admitting defeat of some kind.
The pilot raised the microphone to his lips.
“Ok, people, let’s try to calm down. Let’s keep our heads, and we’ll get through this. Here’s where we’re at so far. In the early hours before our morning departure from Zurich, we started getting news coming in of some widespread cases of an unknown illness across wide regions of the United States. Reports were sketchy and unconfirmed, but whatever was happening sounded serious. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem likely to affect us, so we departed as scheduled and headed west. Not long after our departure, we received instructions from head office that as the matter became more serious, it would be in the interests of the safety of our passengers and our crew to discontinue our Internet service for this flight.”
At this announcement several the more hot-headed passengers began to rise from their seats, exclaiming that the airline had no right to have kept us in the dark as to whatever is happening out there. After a moment, the captain managed to calm them enough to continue.
“Two hours into our flight, we started getting scattered updates from airports across the Eastern seaboard that whatever outbreak we were hearing about was much more serious and more widespread than initially thought. Remember, when we left Zurich at 7:15 this morning, it was just after 2am on the East coast and everyone here was still, quite literally, in the dark.”
He motioned to one of the flight attendants for a drink of water, which he sipped from before continuing. I could see his hand shaking as he held his cup. Airline pilots are supposed to have nerves of steel. I swallowed hard, really not wanting to hear what else he had to say.
“Despite fighting some pretty nasty headwinds on our flight, which I’m sure you felt back here as well, we actually made it on time. However, that didn’t help us since we weren’t able to get clearance to land.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “For now, all air traffic has been completely suspended over North America. They’re working to clear room on the ground for all of the flights currently in the air.”
“What we’re being told,” he continued, “is that it appears we’re in the middle of some form of pandemic outbreak of unprecedented scale. It’s working its way across the continent at a speed that no-one has ever seen, and from what we’re being told, has never even been anticipated.”
People around the cabin were starting to shout out questions, but to his credit, the pilot managed to keep everyone under control.
“Please let me share the rest of this information with you, then I’ll answer whatever questions I can.” When it was clear he had everyone’s attention again, he took another sip of water. “Transport Canada is working in conjunction with the FAA and FEMA south of the border. Inbound overseas flights are being directed into special quarantine areas, since they seem to be confident that we’re not infected with, well, with whatever this is they’re dealing with. Toronto airport is working on establishing appropriate quarantine sections in the airport to segregate us from the rest of the population until they get further instructions.”
He took a deep breath, visibly glad to get all of that out and in the open. “Now, I’ll be happy to answer any questions I can, one at a time.”
Immediately one big red-faced fellow sitting near the front of the plane stood up, ignoring others around him who obviously also had questions.
“Yeah, I’ve got a question. When the hell are we getting off this damned plane so we can get home to our families?”
The pilot nodded, I’m sure knowing this would be the first and most important question on everyone’s lips.
“I’m told we’re going to be disembarking the plane any minute, we’re just waiting for the thumb-up from the ground. As for when we’ll be allowed to leave to get home to our families, we don’t know. From what we’re being told, I don’t expect it will be any time soon.”
There were a few more questions from other people, including the nature of the outbreak and what’s happening to those infected, but the pilot didn’t have any answers for them. Before returning to the cockpit, he told the flight crew to prepare to disembark and to see to any passengers’ immediate needs.
I turned and saw the aisle finally clear, so I climbed from my seat and walked back to kneel beside my wife. She looked at me for a moment with wide with fear, then threw her arms around my neck and burst into tears.
With that, the walls I had built up over the last difficult six months, the bricks that I had cemented into place over the last four days, they all came down. All the anger and hurt I had squeezed into jagged blocks of resentment and bitterness; all gone. In that moment all I could do was hold my wife of sixteen years, my partner, my best friend, the mother of our children. All I could do was hold her and cry.
CHAPTER TWO
Day 1
I looked around the large area we were huddled in. There were hundreds of us all seated in uncomfortably close quarters, but at least we were off the plane.
Shortly after the pilot’s speech to us, he came back on the intercom and advised that we had been cleared to disembark. We were instructed to follow the directions of the ground crew explicitly, and that anyone who failed to follow instructions would face severe sanctions. That was the word he used: sanctions. I didn’t like that word. He reinforced how much I didn’t like that word when he added that the ground personnel would be armed with live ammunition. You really didn’t have to read too far between the lines to understand what he was laying down.
The plane followed a lengthy taxi to whichever gate we had been directed, and the jetway was brought out and put in place. I had leaned over my neighbours, who were sitting like me in shell-shocked silence, and looked out the plane window. The ground crew were all wearing respirators.
The cabin door opened, and the passengers were funneled out, everyone clutching their carry-on luggage. If it weren’t for the presence of the masked, armed people wearing camouflage military fatigues at each intersection or exit door directing us onward, it would have felt just like the end of a normal flight.
Our destination turned out to be a large vestibule with what would normally have been three departure gates side-by-side. A checkpoint had been set up controlling access into the room. We had been told to present our passports as we passed through the checkpoint. Most of the passengers, my wife and I included, were allowed to pass through, however, dozens had been pulled aside and redirected down another hallway. There was no explanation given. We had been herded in and told that our checked luggage would be brought to us. That was over two hours ago.
There were two respirator-masked, armed, fatigue-wearing guards posted at every door, and there was a makeshift checkpoint with four guards all dressed similarly to the others, and all armed with what looked like automatic weapons. I didn’t know much about guns, I just knew these ones looked like army rifles. Big and scary.
When we first got in here a few of the more alpha-male passengers decided they were going to get to the bottom of everything. They stood in a group telling each other they didn’t have to stand for this kind of treatment, and they were going to do something about it. Finally, the alpha-est of them all de
cided that, since he obviously had the biggest dick out of everyone present, it was up to him to take charge. I wasn’t surprised to see it was the red-faced big guy who had confronted the pilot on the plane about when we were getting out of here. He had stood up straight and marched over to the checkpoint to tell the army guys there how it was going to be. At first you could hear the loud tenor of his voice laying down the law, demanding that we all be allowed to go on our way. No-one could hear the relies from the guards, since they were all wearing respirators, but whatever the reply was didn’t sit well with Mr. Red-face. He puffed up even bigger and started to really put some effort into hollering. This time we could all make out the reply from the guards; it involved all four of them in unison levelling their guns with Mr. Red-face’s chest and flicking off the safeties.
Mr. Red-face deflated immediately as his red-face became very pale, and he slowly took several steps backing away from the guards before turning and slinking back to where the passengers were sitting. He ignored his old chums and went to sit in a corner, alone.
A few minutes later a group of more level-headed passengers approached the guards cautiously and tried to get answers. They too were turned away.
After that, no-one else bothered going near the guards.
I had sent a handful more text messages to our daughter but had no way of knowing if they were getting through or not. I still hadn’t been able to get through to anyone on the telephone.
There were several televisions mounted on the walls and hanging from the ceiling around the room, but they were all dark; so far we still access the Internet on our phones, and everything we were reading was terrifying.
This sickness, whatever it was, somehow seemed to pop up all over the USA almost overnight, but so far had been concentrated primarily along the East coast. Three days ago, hospitals started to report an influx of cases initially presenting as common colds; coughing, runny nose and sneezing. Since there’s no real treatment for the cold other than rest and fluids, people were sent home to self-quarantine, relax, and wait for it to run its course. After thirty-six to forty-eight hours, however, symptoms changed drastically. There were reports of tens of thousands of people across the country being rushed back to hospitals non-responsive and discharging massive amounts of mucus from their noses and mouths. Most of those patients had lapsed into comas; many of them died, asphyxiating on massive mucus discharge from their lungs when their bodies couldn’t clear the mucus fast enough. Hospitals went from being bothered with too many common cold cases to being clogged with comatose patients they couldn’t care for, and by the bodies of the dead.
Early this morning, at the urging of the CDC, the American President declared a national state of emergency and implemented martial law. Freedom of assembly was abolished, and people were being forced away from public areas and told to stay at home indoors for their own safety. Public transportation was shut down and most major roadways blocked by Army and National Guard units in a final massive effort to slow down the spread of the sickness.
It didn’t work. Within hours hospitals across the country were being flooded with panicked patients who, at the moment, were only showing severe cold symptoms.
Apparently, the longest undefended border in the world didn’t serve as much of a barrier either, since for the last ten hours hospitals across Canada were being flooded in the same way, and no-one had any idea of how to stop the spread, let alone treat the infected. Reports began popping up of hospitals being swarmed with coughing, sneezing patients in Mexico.
Overseas, airports were refusing to allow planes from North America to disembark; they were landing, being refueled, and sent packing back across the ocean.
Panic and public unrest was beginning to take hold across North America. New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia and Washington were already in the throes of mass looting and riots as authorities were unable to respond to the crisis; lack of preparedness for this type of event, lack of time to respond properly, and lack of resources due to it hitting everywhere at once. Emergency responses were crippled.
The President was expected at a press conference momentarily to address the nation, and the rest of the world.
“Jesus, Kevin,” Stephanie said quietly, running her fingers through her hair, “what are we going to do if we’re not able to get through to the kids?”
“Listen, we’re going to get through to them, okay? The phone systems are likely just overloaded with what’s going on. I know it sounds bad right now but they’re going to get a handle on what’s happening, we’re going to get out of here and we’re going to get home to the kids who are just fine. Okay?” I sounded more confident than I felt, but then I’ve always talked a pretty good game.
“But why hasn’t Karen answered your texts? She never puts her phone down!”
“Who knows, maybe she dropped it and it broke; you know that’s happened before, or maybe she lost it somewhere. It doesn’t mean they’re not safe.” Inside I prayed to a God I really didn’t believe in that I was right.
“Whenever we get cleared to leave here, we’ll either get a late flight, or if the planes aren’t flying by then we can rent a damn car and drive home to Saskatchewan if we have to.” I did the math in my head. I was pretty sure we could do the drive in two days if we had to, alternating drivers, sleeping in the car only when really necessary, and assuming traffic was moving. We had no way of knowing what the roads would be like, or if they were even allowing travel or if highways had been shut down like they had been in the States.
Not knowing what was happening beyond the room we were being held in was driving me nuts, but I was trying to hold it together for Stephanie’s sake.
“You guys are from Saskatchewan?” came a voice from behind me. I turned to see two young men sitting behind us, their phones in their laps plugged in and charging. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be eavesdropping on you guys but I just heard what you said. Us too, we’re from Saskatoon.”
Stephie and I introduced ourselves. The young guys introduced themselves as Jamie and Alex Walters, twin brothers who just spent three weeks backpacking across France after graduating high-school this spring. They were good-looking kids in a wholesome way; you could tell they were brothers, but not identical. Both had short brown hair with a messy look that suited them. They both looked like natural athletes, maybe swimmers, or runners. Two very beat-up looking backpacks sat between their feet. I thought if my daughter was here, her heart would be all a-flutter right now and she would be spending lots of time staring at the floor and pushing her hair back behind her ears. I think she would be surprised to know that I noticed that’s what she did when she was flustered.
We chatted for a couple minutes, comparing notes about what we had seen online. Neither of them had any luck getting any texts back from anyone back home either. We decided that since we were all heading west, if we didn’t get an alternate flight arranged to get home, we might as well stick together and see if we could arrange transportation.
Suddenly an alert popped up on Jamie’s phone. “Hey, the President’s news conference is coming on.”
I turned to my phone and brought up a news service. It looked like they were all broadcasting the same feed. Stephanie leaned in to watch.
An image of the President appeared, sitting at his desk in the Oval Office. His famous hair was perfectly combed-over, and he looked like he’d had a fresh coat of spray-tan just applied. All except around his eyes.
“Good morning.
“I want to address the horrible crisis that our nation is currently facing, to inform you about what we presently know of the situation, to help you know how to protect yourself and your loved ones, and to let you all know what your government is doing to resolve this.”
Around us in the airport, you could hear a pin drop as everyone was watching the same images on their or their neighbour’s phones.
“Our people, our country, and our American way of life all are currently under attack. A terrible sickness has been rele
ased on our shores, you’ve been watching what’s happening, we’ve all seen it, it’s just terrible. Our intelligence agencies have confirmed that the source of these outbreaks is not natural, but rather is man-made; this is a deliberate, monstrous attack on America by our enemies. Again, this is an intentional act of aggression, and it is on a coordinated, national scale.”
At this announcement we could hear a collective gasp from the passengers around us. Stephanie whispered, “Oh my God,” her hands held up to her mouth.
“I have established an inter-agency task force consisting of top people, very top people, from the CDC, FEMA and Homeland Security. They are coordinating efforts in getting aid to those in need, and with their combined resources along with all of the branches of our Armed Forces, I have no doubt that we will get through this.
“Emergency aid stations are being established in every major city across this great nation of ours to help those who need it. Food, water, shelter and medical supplies are in place. Meanwhile, we have the full power of the American government working towards finding out who is behind this atrocity.
“To whoever is behind this cowardly and unforgivable affront: you have made a grievous error. You may think that you have struck a blow against us; you are wrong. You have awakened the wrath of the greatest country on earth, and the strongest military force the world has ever known. You have gained nothing, and you will lose everything. No quarter, and no mercy; none will be granted. You will pay for every American life you have taken. There is nowhere you can hide. There is no-one who can protect you. It doesn’t matter who you are, where you are, or who you have helping you. We will spare no resource, and we will not stop. We will find you and you will be held accountable.
“Maybe God will have mercy on you, but you will find none here on earth.
