The spread of the infection itself hadn’t increased that dramatically, but it was the results of those affected was what authorities were attempting to prevent.
The health clinic where the barman and customer from Joe’s Bar & Grill were taken after the altercation with infected officer Dean Taurel didn’t receive a delivery of vaccines like the others. A late-night check by a nurse on the customer who suffered superficial injuries in the incident became the scene of a further breakout of infected.
It was just before midnight when nurse Gail Miller begun her rounds at the West Side Clinic. Her first stop was patient Dave from Joe’s Bar & Grill. She couldn’t understand the restrictions surrounding this patient. As far as she knew, Dave was attacked in a bar and knocked to the ground. Before any real damage could be done, the attacker was shot dead by the bartender. Gail looked at the chart at the end of the bed as the patient slept and noted there was nothing more serious than a few bruises. Her main duty was to check his temperature and take a blood sample.
“Why would they want a blood sample for a few bruises?” She whispered while preparing the syringe. “Well, doctors know best, right?” She couldn’t help but smirk after saying that.
The nurse then gently pushed on the patient’s shoulder to wake and inform him of the proceedings.
“Mm…yeah?” Dave said without opening his eyes.
“Sir, I’m just going to draw some blood, okay?”
“Err…yeah, s-s-sure.”
Gail raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Fine, keep your eyes closed.
She wiped his arm with an alcohol swab, then inserted the needle.
It was the last thing she ever did.
The patient jerked and sat bolt upright, emitting an ear-piercing shriek. The nurse flinched in her panic, breaking the needle off in the patient’s arm.
“Oh, my God!” she said, then screamed when she looked at Dave, the patient with a few minor bruises.
He turned his head deliberately toward her and opened his eyes. In the dimly lit clinic room, the blood-filled eyes were like pools of black oil against his pale, bluish skin. A dark tear ran down one cheek as he snarled at her.
Her scream alerted the other night staff, who came running—albeit too late.
An orderly was first into the room and saw the near-naked male patient on top of Gail, his smock having torn away. The nurse’s legs twitched like a fish out of water as the orderly leaped onto the patient.
In a swift movement, Dave—or what once was Dave—knocked his attacker to the floor, grabbed him by the hair, and slammed his head into the floor again and again and again.
When there was no movement from the orderly, Dave sunk his teeth into the exposed neck and tore out a great chunk of flesh, then lapped up the blood that ran freely.
The doctor on-duty, another nurse, and the night security officer bounded in next.
“What that fuck…” the doctor said as he stumbled to a halt just before the blood-eyed Dave.
The security officer snatched at his gun, but in his panic and inexperience, couldn’t free the revolver from its holster. Dave now launched himself at the doctor.
“Help! Help me get this fucker OFFFF—”
The security officer forgot about his gun and assisted the doctor—or tried. Dave pinned the doctor against the wall and the officer grabbed the not-so-feeble patient from behind and attempted to pull him away.
The other nurse began to scream uncontrollably.
Gail Miller rose from the floor, her eyes blood-red just like her attacker’s, and she looked in the direction of the young security officer. Like a lion, she pounced, taking him to the ground where she tore at his flesh and drank the precious liquid of life.
A dull thud sounded further behind in the room as the screaming nurse collapsed from shock.
In less than an hour, the clinic staff and patients were either dead from the attack by the infected, or had become the infected.
Police, manning a nearby road barrier, arrived only to find the door of the clinic ajar and blood trailing down the front steps.
The mayhem of dead bodies and smeared blood—as horrific as it was—didn’t compare to the incident which took place at Polk County Prison.
The first staff members to escape from the hospital were promptly arrested and taken to the county lock-up. The police officer in charge at the time knew no different. Also unknown was that several patients among the group had received the vaccine. The Riverside Hospital staff were removed from prison and placed in an isolation ward at another hospital in Des Moines. The patients, however, weren’t considered that important and left to rot in Polk. A prison of just under a thousand inmates, all locked away from the outside world. With several infected and highly contagious flu sufferers who would soon be sent into a frenzy in their lust for blood. Panic turned to rioting and prison officers responded by shooting. Blood from the infected mixed with the blood of the innocent. Soon, there were more infected sufferers than there weren’t. Officers ran from the prison, deserting their posts. Gates were left unlocked. Frantic calls to the governor’s office for additional police or National Guard troops fell on deaf ears as the city-wide crisis and the quarantine were deemed of higher import. Within minutes of the unlocked gates having been breached, hundreds of infected and soon-to-be-infected fled Polk County Jail on 106th street and escaped into the surrounding city.
Word around the National Guard troops and police officers manning the barricades was to prepare to open fire and forget official orders from FEMA, the CDC, state health services, or anyone. Those on the frontline, as the barriers were considered, knew they were dealing with a pestilence that was extremely deadly. The CDC and FEMA personnel in their hazmat suits had the troops unnerved—they’d been issued disposable face masks and rubber gloves. Preparations for a massive withdraw were also being discussed by the rank and file out of earshot from the FEMA and CDC officials.
By morning, nothing like an assault on the barricades had occurred, but by now the troops were cold, tired, and the stories passed from one post to the next became more harrowing.
There had been more than a few desertions through the night.
To everyone present, regardless of rank, Des Moines looked every bit like a lost cause.
The police vehicles were close now. Sirens sounded from all sides. Grace’s nerves were about to give out. If the cops were coming for them, it was too late to run now.
“Here they come.” Richard saw the black and white Ford Explorer in the rear-view mirror.
There was an audible sigh as the SUV raced passed. Another black and white Explorer came from a side street and followed the first. Both vehicles passed the clinic.
“That answers the question of the vaccine, I guess?” Steve asked.
“I’d like to wait another hour before making that decision,” Grace replied sharply. She was far from convinced, but some felt disappointed. She needed that confirmation.
How are we going to convince anyone the vaccine itself was responsible for the outbreak? She asked herself, when the obvious answer hit like a runaway train.
“The vaccines. That’s it!”
“What about the vaccines, Grace?” Tilford asked.
“The vaccines themselves would be all the proof needed. I’m sure he CDC would have removed any vials left and as a precaution, ordered tests done. Even if the fucking director was in on it, he would have to follow the guidelines to keep up the pretext, don’t you see?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s easier to hide your involvement by acting in the opposite manner. A variation of hiding in plain sight.”
“I thought you’d see it my way, Mike.”
“But that leads us to another question.”
“And that is?” she asked, not sure if she was ready for the answer.
“How do we know he’s not playing us now? Telling us he’s had enough of the subterfuge and that greed got the better of him, only so he could gain our confidence and—”
“Yea
h, you’re right, he could be leading us down a dark road of no return.”
Everyone in the truck gave Steve a “whatever” type look after his mixed metaphor.
“Maybe, but there is one thing.” Tilford took up the slack. “He didn’t know Grace would call and if this conspiracy is as high as you say, I doubt anything would be left to a ‘just in case’ scenario.”
“I know the man. He’s always self-assured—almost arrogant in manner. He didn’t sound that way at all. He was scared, that’s what I believe.”
“Okay, next question. If Calgleef does have samples of the vaccine, how do we get ahold of them? I presume that’s what your intention is?”
Grace thought for a moment. She realized it wouldn’t be possible. The distance between Iowa and Georgia was too great. They wouldn’t get close, they’d be shot—and probably long before they left Iowa.
“Calgleef must persuade his connection that he’s still a willing participant. Then as Director of the CDC, he should be able to get to the president of the United States.”
“And tell him what, Grace?” Steve’s concern was obvious and his question deserved an answer.
“Calgleef just needs to present the data that the vaccine was responsible for introducing the virus into the country. Dr. Moya wasn’t the unwitting carrier, as I’m sure the president’s been led to believe.”
“And where will that leave Calgleef—if he was a party to all this?” Steve continued. The, “dog with a bone” reference, wasn’t attached to reporters because of their eating habits.
“By agreeing to provide evidence of the conspiracy, he could ask for leniency or even go into the protection program in return. It mightn’t be much but probably a lot better than anything he’s got now. With this kind of money and power, I doubt too many loose ends will be left unchecked.”
“I…err…I have to say, as risky as it sounds, I support Grace’s call on this,” Tilford said from the back seat.
“Thank you.” She reached over, grabbed his wrist, and squeezed gently. The gesture was as much for her reassurance as it was for him. “Let’s get out of here, Richard. I’ve got a call to make.”
Richard drove the Dodge 2500 slowly by the clinic, so that they could all get a good look at the line-up on the other side. A good number were still there, shuffling along into the side entrance. No alarm or panic on their faces—only boredom.
“Okay, just out of Carlisle, there’s the train yards. We can park in there without being spotted.”
In five minutes, Grace Delaney pushed the buttons on the cell phone and called Calgleef.
“Hope he hasn’t left the state yet.”
“Or that his friends caught up with him,” Mike added.
Grace looked over at him and nodded. Mike was the pessimistic one now, but she understood where he was coming from. Their freedom was at stake and they were putting a lot of trust in an individual who had shown that what he said and what he did were two different matters. Calgleef, it appeared, was a man of many masks.
The question was, which one was he wearing now?
16
Sixteen
Calgleef was still at home when the phone rang—the satellite phone. Only Thorncroft, Mr. Jones, certain government people, and the Delaney woman had the number. He didn’t think it would be Thorncroft, not after the last conversation. Mr. Jones, perhaps calling to question his remoteness and lackadaisical attitude. When he saw the number on the screen, he was pleased it was Delaney.
“Miss Delaney,” he said, “I wasn’t expecting you to call so soon. But I’m glad you did.”
“Why, what’s happened, Calgleef?”
He noted her sharp tone, but tucked it away. Understandable when you’re on the run from every law enforcement agency in the country.
“I don’t know how you spent last night, but for many residents of Des Moines, it would have been far from restive.”
Calgleef went on to describe the events of yesterday and last night. The fire at the hospital which still smoldered, and the attacks by the infected. The most horrific being the carnage at Polk County Jail.
“Didn’t any police or National Guard troops intervene?” Grace asked him.
“No. By the time they were informed of the disturbance, it was deemed too late and FEMA management determined that taking men from the barriers could weaken the posts, and—”
“Is FEMA part of this, too?”
“That I cannot say for sure, Miss. Delaney, but I wouldn’t be surprised. They don’t seem to be very proactive in tackling this pestilence head-on. Like the planes above LAX, they’re in more of a holding pattern than anything.”
There was silence on the other end as Calgleef waited for an answer.
“Anyway,” he continued, “you called me for a reason, I suspect?”
“Yes, I did.”
After another moment of silence, Calgleef asked, “And that is?”
“This conspiracy needs to be exposed and to do that, we need evidence.”
“Still the concerned idealist, I see. How do you expect to get any evidence? Do you think there are any documents linking the big names?”
“No, but the CDC has some vials of the vaccine, doesn’t it?”
Calgleef paused to think. With all that happened, he’d forgotten about that.
“I believe so, I’ll have to double check,” he told her. “What do you have in mind?”
Grace prefaced her plan by stating that she and her colleagues couldn’t travel far, but that he—as Director of the CDC—could. “You need to convince Thorncroft or whoever else is involved that you’re still a part of the process and that a test to determine if the vaccine was indeed responsible for the introduction of the flu and—”
“But Thorncroft knows that. He engineered it that way and I…I allowed it through,” Calgleef admitted openly for the first time.
“Never mind that now, Calgleef. There will be a time for self-recriminations later. But, if you’re really sorry for getting involved, we need to focus on what you can do to redeem yourself and help save America from the ravages that this pestilence will cause.”
Delaney did have her heart in it, Calgleef realized. God, how he wished he had her passion. He listened further to Delaney’s instructions.
“It would be best if you use the vaccines from Riverside—the real ones—and have detailed documentation regarding the transfer. That way, you can show where they originated from. Once you have the tests done, you can tell Thorncroft of the results, which can then be manipulated into a more agreeable outcome—for Thorncroft and all his confederates. Are you with me?”
“I believe so.” Calgleef understood that her plan meant he would be putting himself in harm’s way. But he didn’t really think he was going to get out scot-free.
At least Ethel might be safer with Grace’s plan.
“Well?”
“I think your plan has merit, Miss Delaney. Dangerous—particularly for me—but it has merit.”
“How long to make it happen?”
“How does ‘as soon as you get off the phone’ sound?”
“Call me when you have something,” Grace said, ending the call.
Calgleef promised himself he would be a good boy today. No whiskey at the office. He planned to go in and grab a few personal items, then take Ethel to the airstrip out of Atlanta where he kept his Cessna 442 Conquest. His intention was to fly to Mexico, then take a commercial airline to New Zealand. Getting his personal finances out of the country would be the hard part. But those plans had been scuttled.
And with it, so too had his promise to refrain from the bottle. He’d need a few good belts to get through the day, he was sure of that.
By the time he got to the office, he was later than normal and in this crisis, totally unexpected. He told other officials and staff that he had taken a lot of calls at home before coming in. He then patiently sat through a briefing of the night’s activities in Des Moines, even though the CDC private computer network—
which he could access from his laptop—kept him up to date.
“We’ll have to look at extending the quarantine perimeter,” he said to his staff before he disappeared into his office.
Coffee. No booze, not just yet. He would start with black coffee.
“Let’s hope the son of a bitch hasn’t put a contract on me just yet,” Calgleef said as he used his satellite phone to call Thorncroft. He took a cursory look at his watch and calculated the time difference. Mid-morning in Atlanta made it early night in London.
“Pity,” Calgleef said before the phone was answered. He would have just loved to wake the bastard.
“Mr. Thorncroft,” Calgleef said when the phone was answered. “I hope I haven’t disturbed your supper or—”
“No, no, Calgleef, Not at all. But the news coming out of your country is a tad disturbing.”
The Director of the CDC assumed Thorncroft referred to the overnight incidents in Des Moines.
That bastard is better informed than the FBI, Calgleef mused.
“Yes, the attacks were particularly horrendous, I—”
“I don’t give a toss about the that. There is news coming out on your TV stations suggesting the flu that has broken out is the result of my vaccines. This cannot continue even if the program goes ahead. The fear this would imprint into the minds of the public would be too great—they’d never trust the vaccine.”
“Well, err…that’s why I called, sir.” Calgleef saw a way to extricate himself and bring up the plan to have the vaccine tested at the same time. “With your permission sir, I’d like to run a test on the original vaccines with the—”
“You what? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Pestilence Boxed Set [Books 1 & 2] Page 23
