Class of 1989: A Post Viral Apocalyptic Story

by Jack Hunt

  “Just our luck. I swear planning a reunion around the same time was absurd. And what’s the deal with calling it the thirtieth reunion when thirty years was last year? Realistically this is year thirty-one.”

  “Hal said they didn’t have enough people showing an interest last year so they pushed it out one year.”

  “Only in Gerlach,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  Miles brought down his window and yelled for the hippies to get back in their vehicle but his voice was lost as he swallowed a gust of sand. The tiny pieces of grit were everywhere, he’d forgotten what it was like to live in the high desert. Sandstorms could blow up at any minute and when they did, visibility could be reduced to zero. Fortunately they’d missed one that had occurred early that morning, but now they were left driving through the aftermath. He had contemplated driving around the line of vehicles on the hard shoulder but with the increased police presence from Washoe County and BLM law enforcement, that wasn’t an option.

  He drained the remaining water from a bottle and wished he’d purchased more. “You think you can pass me my phone?”

  “You’re driving.”

  “Not right now.”

  Without looking she replied, “Remember what we agreed. No phones.”

  “And yet you’re looking at yours.”

  “To see the traffic update.”

  “You could use the radio.”

  A station had been playing lightly in the background for the better part of an hour. He reached over and turned it up and hit the scan button a few times. Music, interviews, news and… The radio skipped ahead before he had a chance to stop it. Something caught his attention, more specifically a name.

  Jenna leaned over and tapped his hand. “Let me do it. You focus on driving. I’ll tune into 95.1…”

  “No, go back,” he said, trying to take control of the dial.

  “Miles,” Jenna said protesting him taking over.

  He hit the button a few times until it went back to the station.

  “Federal agents raided the home of microbiologist and scientist Donnie Marco this morning. Marco is under investigation for alleged involvement in connection with what they are calling biological espionage. Four days ago, Marco and a virologist who had ties to China were escorted out of the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases after what the FBI and CDC are describing as a possible ‘policy breach.’ No arrests or house confinement was made at that time. The investigation is still ongoing. At this time it’s too early to say what Marco’s involvement is, or the nature of the breach. This comes on the tail of last year’s shutdown which saw the CDC seal the lab after failing a safety inspection. Researchers at the Army’s biosafety labs handle the testing of infectious diseases like the Ebola virus, Lyme disease and the plague. Last year, a spokesman for the CDC said that the lab had failed to meet biosafety standards and had suspended programs involved in Ebola, smallpox and other pathogens. While leaks were found at that time, according to the CDC they have confirmed that they occurred inside the lab and that no pathogen escaped to the outside.”

  “Geesh. Sounds like that woman from the media was right.”

  “Marco. I know him.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, we worked together at Johns Hopkins for four years before he landed a position at the military lab. We’ve kept in contact, sharing details related to his work with Lyme disease. Donnie was working on a vaccine the last time we spoke.”

  With the news over, Miles switched off the radio and stared ahead. Donnie had been a close friend; someone on the same page as him in regard to finding solutions to some of the world problems. Lyme disease had been one that was close to Donnie’s heart since his brother’s daughter had contracted it and died after a year of the medical community failing to diagnose it. She wasn’t the first, Lyme disease was hard to diagnose because many of the common symptoms like headaches, dizziness and joint pain occurred in other diseases. While a red bull’s-eye rash was usually a clear giveaway, that didn’t appear on everyone. And with treatment only effective in the early stages, it was often too late for some.

  “Biological espionage? Crazy. You think he’s capable?” Jenna asked.

  “Donnie? Capable? Anyone is capable. But he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his career. His work at the lab meant too much to him. Besides, a few weeks ago when I spoke with him, he could barely contain his excitement. He said he had discovered something that could revolutionize the fight against Lyme disease. No, I don’t buy it. I know him too well.”

  “Well someone thinks he’s responsible otherwise they wouldn’t have raided his home.” She placed a hand on his, then gave him a nudge to let him know the vehicles were moving forward. “Come on, don’t go obsessing over it. We are here to enjoy the weekend.”

  He swallowed hard and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know.”

  “Besides, we’re nearly there.”

  Still lost in thought he turned to her. “Maybe I should check my phone.”

  “Miles.”

  He groaned. “Okay.”

  The paved two-lane road curved around as it wound into Gerlach. Burners would continue on to State Route 34 which offered another fifteen miles of barren road up to Black Rock Desert. Either side of them were flat, dusty plains that stretched toward the base of a mountain range. The Granite Mountains towered over the town through waves of heat.

  Ahead, Gerlach’s collection of weathered buildings stood out looking like the set of a Western movie. While there were a few modern homes, the town was still very much like the Wild West. The road was dotted with battered trailers, old homes and beat-up cars.

  Considered a census-designated community until they were forced to give it a label, the tumbleweed town of Gerlach, a hundred miles north of Reno, was in the middle of nowhere. The closest community of seventy-odd residents was Empire just nine minutes south, further afield were Nixon and Wadsworth, roughly an hour away — all three were no larger than a mile long.

  As they got closer to the town, Jenna pointed to a blue and yellow welcome sign that read:

  WELCOME TO GERLACH

  Center of the known Universe

  Attitude Good — Population Wanted

  Jenna continued reading aloud the text on a smaller white sign below, which provided more mottoes to fall back on. “Gerlach… more than a pretty name. Where the pavement ends and the West begins. 3 bars, no churches, no wars. The fastest town on the planet. That’s why they call it girl-lack. The town that time forgot.” She looked over at him and he smiled. “Girl-lack? I thought it was Ger-latch,” she said trying to pronounce it.

  “For as long as I’ve known, people have argued over it. Girl-lack, Ger-lock but I’ve never heard anyone say Ger-latch. Where’s the T in that?”

  She playfully slapped his arm then chuckled as she reread the part about population wanted. The population in Gerlach had been in a steady decline for years. Online they touted two hundred but it was far lower than that. The gypsum mine had once been tied to the economy but now the town was best known for tourism, hunting and the gateway to Burning Man. Most, if not all residents were retired, ranchers or working multiple part-time jobs. Even though he hadn’t lived there since he was a teen, to Miles, the half-a-mile long town at the edge of the Black Rock Desert would always be home.

  Finally making progress they veered off to a lone gas station. Miles got out to fill the tank while Jenna stretched her legs. A gust of wind blew grit in his face and he coughed as he unlatched the gas cap and stuck the nozzle in. Behind, vehicles snaked into the distance, many hoping to top up before reaching their final destination. Business must have been good as it was the only gas station in Gerlach or for that matter, in over eighty miles. Not much had changed. Zero development but that’s the way the locals liked it. They held on to their roots and refused to expand even though Burning Man offered plenty of opportunities.

  Miles stared down Main Street and spotted a familiar sign pointing righ
t:

  Gerlach School

  Home of the Lions

  A flood of memories came back, biking to school, bullying, the highs and lows, dating, break-ups and friendship. Oh those days were both memorable and tough. He got this sinking feeling in his gut, a sense that he was going to regret going to the reunion.

  As Jenna emerged from the gas station with a couple of bottles of water, and a receipt, Miles was staring at a couple of hippie burners sitting by the roadside holding up signs seeking tickets to Burning Man. They’d obviously left it to the last minute or thought that someone would gift them. He had a good mind to take over the tickets Jenna had bought and hand them over. It wasn’t that he was a stick in the mud, or didn’t enjoy having a good time, but his mind was elsewhere. It was hard to unwind from work and to switch off when he’d spent so many months nose deep in research and testing. That was one of the reasons why he appreciated Jenna, she balanced him out. Without her he would probably work himself into an early grave.

  Life is for living not working, she would say.

  “They’d have more luck being struck by lightning than getting tickets now,” Jenna said, following his gaze as she handed him a bottle of water. He cracked the top and wet his mouth that felt like sandpaper.

  “You sure you still want to go?” he asked.

  “Miles.”

  He slipped behind the wheel. “I’m just checking. You know how these events can get a little crazy. It’s more for youngsters.”

  “You were young once.”

  “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “You’re only forty-eight.”

  “Only.”

  They both laughed. Jenna actually didn’t look as if she’d aged a day. Okay, she had a few crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes, and had gained a few pounds, but who hadn’t at their age? He certainly was no GQ model, even though he ran daily and lifted weights a few times a week. Miles flipped the sun visor down and brushed a few wisps of dark hair over his receding hairline then pulled at the skin beneath his eyes. The fact was they weren’t getting any younger but he didn’t mind, as with age came experience.

  Miles fired up the engine and they rolled the final few hundred feet down the road to Bruno’s Motel, the only game in town for miles. On the outside it resembled army barracks, a far cry from the upscale Hilton hotels he was used to in Baltimore. Then again, Gerlach wasn’t exactly the lap of luxury. No brand-name grocery store, no hospital, no convenience store, it boasted little with a post office, a school, a few bars, and a restaurant which catered to a slower pace of life, and people who were more content with silence than the modern amenities of a bustling town.

  Hal had offered them a room, saying they could stay at his place, but after not seeing him for thirty years it just didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to put him out and well, after twenty years of marriage, they kind of had their own routine. Besides, it was only one night and then they would be heading into Black Rock City, the temporary metropolis dedicated to Burning Man.

  After checking in they perused their room.

  It was basic, really basic with a bathroom, a queen bed, a refrigerator, towels and an air conditioner unit that had seen better days, but it was clean and was a welcome sight after spending hours in the heat.

  “So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Miles asked falling back on the unusually firm bed and staring up at the ceiling that could have done with a fresh lick of paint. It felt unusual not having his cell phone in hand so he reached for the remote and clicked on the TV. There was a limited number of channels but he hoped he might find some news on Donnie. There was nothing, just some cheesy talk show and a few soaps. Still disturbed by the recent news, he pushed it from his mind. Miles set the remote on the side table then looked across the room. Jenna had unzipped the suitcase and was taking out a few clothes to hang in the closet.

  “So?” he asked.

  She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Um, Hal wants to meet at the bar before the reunion. I was thinking of wearing this. What do you think?” Jenna held up a black number in front of her.

  “Is that a trick question?”

  She narrowed her gaze.

  “Anything looks good on you.”

  Jenna smiled. “Smart answer.”

  As Jenna was trying to decide between two dresses, he sauntered up behind her, gave her waist a squeeze then kissed the crook of her neck. “Miles.”

  “It’s been a while since we’ve had alone time.”

  She glanced at her watch. “But we got stuck in traffic, remember. We don’t want to be late.” She slipped by him and he let out a quiet sigh. Miles stood there for a second staring into the mirror, wondering where the years had gone and how much everyone would have changed. He turned to find Jenna sprawled on the bed in some alluring pose that was more amusing than seductive. “Well come on, cowboy, giddy up,” she said before laughing. “That is what you say around these parts, isn’t it?”

  Elated, a smile formed on his face.

  Three - Fight Or Fu*K

  Later that evening, they entered Bruno’s Country Club, a low-slung stone building with a large yellow neon sign. Though no longer alive, Bruno was a legend, a patriarch of Gerlach; the owner of the motel, the bar and the gas station — he’d pretty much cornered the market on the community while catering to local ranchers, hunters, truckers, travelers and burners. Growing up, Miles remembered the local watering hole as the go-to place to hang out, famous for its ravioli and Picon Punches. It offered something for everyone — food, hospitality, a café, and a casino with slot machines.

  “There he is,” Jenna said.

  Across the room, under the dim lights, he spotted Hal sitting at the bar. Miles smiled and waved as the smell of alcohol and sizzling food gripped him. Hal was around five foot eight, strong, athletic with ink down his forearms and Arctic blue eyes. He now donned a shaved head and wore tan khakis, rugged boots, a white V-neck with the Pink Floyd logo and a dark blue jean shirt.

  “Hey man, you made it,” Hal said, crossing the room and opening his arms to embrace him in a strong hug.

  Miles patted his back. “Good to see you, old friend.”

  “Less of the old.”

  He laughed. Hal’s eyes bounced to Jenna. “Oh, Hal, this is…”

  “We already know each other,” Jenna said brushing past him to hug Hal.

  “Great to finally meet you. Journey good?”

  “About that,” Miles said before Jenna nudged him in the ribs to prevent him griping.

  “Hope you guys are thirsty. C’mon. Grady and Nathan haven’t arrived yet.”

  “They’re coming?”

  “Oh yeah, soon as they heard you were in, that sealed the deal.”

  The four of them had been friends all through high school, although back then he saw Nathan and Hal more because Grady had strict parents who made him do additional homework.

  Miles ran a hand over Hal’s tanned head. “So what happened to the hair?”

  “Ah it was almost gone. I decided to be done with it and buzz it off. Hell of a lot easier to wash now.”

  “I bet. It suits you.”

  For a long time Hal had rocked an old ’80s look, and looked like a member of Bon Jovi. As a session drummer, it fit his style until he crested thirty and then age came knocking.

  “Whereas you, Jonesy… still have a full head of hair. You sure that’s not a wig?” he said giving it a gentle tug. Miles laughed and just like that he remembered what it was like growing up and having him as his best friend. The two were inseparable.

  “Ah don’t be fooled by the low lighting, Hal, he’s got lots of silver flecks,” Jenna said running a hand through the sides of his hair.

  “Thank you for pointing that out, hon.”

  “You do. In another ten years you’ll be quite the silver fox.”

  As they ordered drinks and began catching up, behind them the sound of a couple squabbling caught their attention. Miles turned to see Grady Lee, a short Korean A
merican. He didn’t look a day over thirty. Beside him a taller, overbearing but slender woman in a red dress was reaming him out in Korean. They were standing by the doorway and Grady looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock from embarrassment.

  “Well, well, well, the spice of Washoe County is back,” Hal said turning and leaning against the bar.

  “Who’s the sassy female?” Miles asked.

  “Sassy? More like overbearing. That, my friend, is Mrs. Yoon Kyo Lee, his ball and chain. He’s a better man than me. I’m not sure how he puts up with her. Let’s just say she is high maintenance. We met up for a few drinks a couple of months back when I was in Reno. According to Grady she’s always complaining about him. Apparently he can never do enough. She didn’t want to come to the reunion and so he told her she could stay but apparently that was the wrong thing to say.” Hal shifted gears as they approached the group. “Grady Lee. Looking dapper as always. What is that, a two thousand dollar suit?” He picked at the tailor-fitted threads under the glare of Grady’s wife. Miles stepped in and gave him a hug.

  “Hey brother, long time.”

  “Being married or since we’ve seen each other?” Grady muttered quietly in his ear before they both chuckled. He turned, introduced his wife and she feigned a polite smile and shook each of their hands. Jenna as usual worked her magic and paid his wife a compliment on her outfit and that was it, she’d hooked her with flattery. Miles looked at Jenna as she whisked Yoon to one side and winked. Damn, it was like they were on the same wavelength.

  “Quite the hand grip your lady has,” Hal joked leaning into Grady. “Brings a whole new meaning to… she’s got you by the balls.”

  They chuckled and Miles bought Grady a drink and they clinked glasses.

  “So Grady, you’re a big-city lawyer now.”

  “Ah, I wouldn’t call it that.”

  “You’re too modest,” Hal said slapping him on the back. “Grady has his own commercial, and Reno is full of his billboards.” He clicked his fingers a few times. “What’s that little jingle of yours?”