Barry pushed himself up. He was a good RA, and knew when to take things seriously and when not to. “Come on.”
They ran up the stairs side by side, with Barry’s buddies tagging along behind them. When they reached Corey’s door, Barry knocked.
“I already did that,” Jeannie said. “Just open it.”
He hesitated a second before shoving the master key into the lock.
Corey was lying across the bed on top of the covers, his phone next to him.
Jeannie rushed over. “Corey? Hey, Corey. Can you hear me?”
She put her hand on his shoulder to wake him, but immediately pulled it back in surprise. He was burning up. She grabbed him again and shook him.
“Corey. Wake up. Corey!”
It was no use. He was completely out.
She looked back at Barry. “Call an ambulance!”
IT TOOK TWELVE minutes for the EMTs to arrive. In that time, over half a dozen other residents of Gilstrap Hall poked their heads into Corey’s room to see what was wrong.
At the hospital, he was put on fluids and anti-viral medication within two minutes of arrival. One of the upshots of the Sage Flu outbreak earlier that year was improved isolation protocol across the nation. Because of this, Corey was placed in a quarantined room. In addition, one of the nurses gathered all the names of people who might have come in contact with him.
Another improvement was the development of the Sage Test, a blood test that had an 85% accuracy at diagnosing Sage Flu. Several in the medical community thought this was overkill, their opinions gaining strength as months went by without any new Sage cases springing up, but after the outbreak, the public demanded its enforced use. That was the only reason the test was run on Corey.
Marcie Hayward was the doctor on duty. While Corey was in obvious distress, the doctor assumed it was just a particularly severe case of the flu. That in itself was disturbing, of course. The last thing they needed was a flu bug spreading through the school, but if there was one case now, there were bound to be others later. He told Nancy Batista, the senior RN on duty, that they should be sure they had enough supplies for a sudden influx of patients. He hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but knew the hospital couldn’t afford to be caught off guard.
He then moved on to a broken arm suffered during an intramural game of flag football.
It was over an hour before Corey’s preliminary lab results came in. Dr. Hayward was in the middle of a nasty case of road rash on the thigh of a girl who’d fallen from her bike when Nurse Batista rushed over.
“Sorry to disturb you, Doctor, but I need to see you for a moment.”
Dr. Hayward smiled at his patient, and unintentionally lied. “I’ll be right back.”
Once they were outside the exam room, Nurse Batista showed the doctor the lab results. He read them twice, and looked at her in surprise.
“Are we sure?”
“I’ve drawn a new sample, so they can run it again.”
That was also protocol if a positive result for Sage Flu was ever returned.
“Okay,” he said. “But until we learn different, we need to assume this is correct. I want everyone who’s been in contact with him isolated, including everyone on this floor. I’ll inform the administration and the state health department.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
There was fear in her eyes as she ran off, the same fear that was probably in his. Both he and the nurse knew that the Sage Flu in its most virulent form meant one thing.
Death.
MATT HAMILTON WAS in the Bunker cafeteria watching the video Tamara and Bobby had just emailed him. It wasn’t the full WC report, just what they’d already completed over the previous months.
Tamara’s voiceover—for the first time unfiltered so that it would be recognizable—had been done in an even, sure tone. There were no hysterics, just facts of the story. Even then, he couldn’t help but frown. It played more like an over-the-top Hollywood thriller than something that could actually happen. But it was what it was. Besides, if they ever did need to play this video, it would mean the pandemic had started, and chances were people would be more keen on listening and believing.
Jordan was watching alongside him. With Pax gone, the younger man had assumed the role of Matt’s top assistant. It was a job that would have normally fallen to Michael, but he was still watching over Janice, whose illness had turned into pneumonia after spending too much time on the freezing roof of the Bluff.
As Matt jotted down a few notes, he heard someone running through the hall toward the cafeteria.
“Matt!” Rachel’s voice.
Forewarned by her tone, both he and Jordan jumped up and rushed into the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Matt asked.
“Come! Come! I think it might have started.”
With a feeling of dread, the three of them raced to the communications room. Nearly a dozen people were already there, including Billy. The TVs on the table were still tuned to the different networks, but only the volume on the PCN broadcast was turned up.
The image was a night shot of a multistory building. The graphic at the bottom identified it as Hawkins Medical Center, Hawkins University, St. Louis, Missouri. The voice speaking belonged to Catherine Minor, one of the PCN anchors.
“…this time. We don’t have the name of the patient yet, but we’ve been told he’s a student at Hawkins University. The dormitory where he lived, and the emergency services area of the hospital have all been quarantined. Right now we need to go to a break. We’ll have more when we return.”
The image stayed on the screen for a second longer, then cut out and was replaced by a commercial for deodorant.
“What happened?” Matt asked.
“Apparently a student was brought into the hospital with flu symptoms,” Billy told him. “When they ran the Sage Test, it came back positive.”
“Just one case?”
“So far. According to the news idiots, they’ve isolated everyone he’s come in contact with.”
“Any reports from other locations?” If the Project had initiated Implementation Day, there should have been hundreds sick already, not just a single student in St. Louis.
“Nothing yet.”
Matt nodded tensely.
An hour passed, then two. Through it all, the only words spoken were by those using the phone to see if there were outbreaks elsewhere.
As the end of the third hour approached, it was becoming clear that this was an isolated event. How? Sage Flu was not a naturally occurring disease. The student had been exposed to it somewhere. They needed to know where that was. It could provide crucial information.
He glanced over at Billy. “I want you in St. Louis as soon as possible. Jordan, you go with him. Find out how this happened.”
“HOW DID THEY get in?” the DOP asked.
“Through the roof, sir,” Ross said.
He stared at his aide for a moment. “The roof?”
“Yes, sir.”
The DOP knew it wasn’t worth getting upset over. Even this minor outbreak couldn’t stop anything. It was annoying, though. It meant some people would be more cautious in the weeks to come, potentially skewing the survival rates in the wrong direction. Initially, anyway. At some point they would become exposed to the virus. This just meant that deaths might continue for months longer after the main event than he’d hoped. Statistically, the number would be infinitesimal, but it could still mean dealing with millions of sick people when they should already be moving on to the new reality.
“The factory needs to be destroyed,” he said, forcing himself not to be distracted.
“Yes, sir.”
“Immediately.”
“Consider it done.”
Twenty-Four
I.D. MINUS 54 HOURS
SANJAY KNOCKED ON the door of the managers’ office.
“Come in,” a voice from inside said.
Reluctantly, he opened the door and walked in. In truth, he wasn’t
sure if he should be there at all. The last thing he wanted to do was anything that might upset his bosses. The money he’d already saved from the work they’d given him was more than he’d ever had at one time, and there was no sign this was going to end.
Though there were four desks in the room, the gray-haired senior manager was the only one there. The rumor was that he was German. Sanjay had never asked him, of course.
“Yes?” the man said.
“I am sorry to disturb you.”
“What do you want?”
Sanjay hesitated for just a second, as he once more recalled the words he’d rehearsed. “I’m wondering if you might know where my cousin has gone.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yes. His name is Ayush. He’s a coordinating officer. He was here yesterday, but last night he did not return to the dorm.”
“Ayush? How do you spell that?”
As Sanjay told him, the man typed his cousin’s name into the computer. When he was through, he read the screen, and seemed to soften a bit. “Ah, yes. He’s your cousin, is he?”
“Yes.”
The man smiled. “Nothing to worry about. Ayush and one of the work squads have been assigned to a task outside the city. They should be back in a few days.”
“Thank you,” Sanjay said, relieved. Then, feeling it necessary to explain himself, he added, “Usually we tell each other if we’ll be gone, but he must have forgotten.”
“You’re probably right. It did come up quickly, so perhaps he looked for you but couldn’t find you before he had to go.”
“Thank you again.”
SANJAY WOULD HAVE left it at that—in fact, had intended to leave it at that—if it were not for one thing. When he got back to the dorm that evening, someone else was using Ayush’s bunk.
Why would someone else be given his bed if he was coming back in a few days? Sanjay asked around to find out who else had been assigned with his cousin, then discovered that their beds had also been filled.
So far, he had enjoyed working for Pishon Chem. Mainly it was the money, of course, but they had been fair in their other dealings, too. This seemed out of character, and he didn’t like what it might mean about things to come.
A job is a job, a voice in his head reminded him. Ironically, it was Ayush’s. And it was right. A job was a job, and questioning it after having spent so much time without a real one was not advised.
He headed out into the dark, warm night, thinking he just needed to take a walk and clear his mind. As he neared the building the managers used, he saw the youngest of the bunch, a man named Mr. Dettling, smoking a cigarette outside the main door.
Dettling had always been nice to Sanjay, and had been the person who delivered the news of his promotion. Maybe, if Sanjay worded things carefully, he could find out if there was anything going on he should be concerned about. He changed his course and headed toward the European.
“Good evening, sir.”
Dettling jumped. “Sanjay. Jesus. I didn’t…see you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I was just out for a walk.”
“Well, don’t walk too long. Tomorrow’s going to be really busy. We’re just a couple days from starting.”
“A couple days?” Sanjay said, surprised. “I did not know the official date had been set yet.”
“Keep it to yourself for now. We’ll make an official announcement in the morning.” He tossed his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his foot. “Well, I should get in. Have a—”
“One question, Mr. Dettling.”
The man looked at Sanjay expectantly.
“I was told my cousin, Ayush, and several others would not be back for a few days. Will they be back in time? He is important to making sure things run smoothly.”
For a second or two, there was uncertainty in the man’s eyes, almost…fear. This was quickly pushed away by an accommodating smile. “They were needed elsewhere in the city. Your…your cousin will be replaced by someone else here who will do a fine job.”
“Elsewhere in the city? But I was told—”
“I really need to go,” Mr. Dettling said. “You should head back, too, and get as much sleep as you can.” He turned toward the building.
In the city? The gray-haired manager had told Sanjay that Ayush and the others had been assigned somewhere outside the city. Was it possible Mr. Dettling just didn’t know the details? Yes, but it seemed unlikely. In Sanjay’s experience, the managers had always been in sync on information.
Could it be Mr. Dettling just forgot? Sanjay would have believed that more readily except for one thing—that look of uncertainty and fear before he answered. It almost seemed to Sanjay as if the man were making up a response that he thought would be satisfactory.
Sanjay didn’t like this. Not at all.
Had Ayush gotten into trouble? Was he being punished or something? Or had he really been assigned to a new project? Whatever was going on, Sanjay wanted to know. Ayush was as much a brother as a cousin, and it was better to be sure that everything was all right than to wonder.
All this went through his mind in the seconds it took Mr. Dettling to walk over to the door, unlock it, and head inside. Without even hesitating, Sanjay rushed forward and caught the door just before the lock clicked into place.
He waited, listening to Mr. Dettling’s receding footsteps, then eased the door open a few inches. On the other side was a well-lit hallway that ran halfway through the building. There was no one in sight so he let himself in.
The ground floor was the working floor, where the managers’ office was located along with several other rooms that were used for meetings and training sessions at the start of the job. Though Sanjay had never been above this floor, he knew upstairs was where the managers lived. Which meant he had to be extra careful to not be discovered.
An image of Kusum flashed through his mind. Working for Pishon Chem had brought him closer to a life with her. He knew how she felt about him now—the same as he felt about her. Because of his employment, her father was even coming around to the idea of them being together.
Just be careful, he told himself. You can be in and out without anyone knowing.
All he wanted was a look at the assignment sheet. On it would be the location where Ayush had been sent. If it wasn’t too far away, he could go talk to his cousin himself, and make sure everything was okay.
The only copy he knew about was in the managers’ office, so that’s where he headed. The office was at the far end, along a small back hallway. Sanjay walked as quickly as he could, stopping occasionally to listen ahead, but always continuing toward his goal.
As he reached the short hallway, he peeked around the corner first, then immediately jammed himself against the wall. The door to the office was open, and there were voices coming from inside. He hesitated at first, then moved into the hallway, hugging the wall until he was only a foot away from the door.
He recognized one of the voices as Mr. Dettling’s. The other belonged to a manager whom Sanjay had seldom talked to. They were speaking in German or whatever their native language was. Either way, he didn’t know it, so he couldn’t understand what they were saying. He was about to sneak away and return to the dorm when he heard Mr. Dettling say his name.
For half a second, he thought he’d been seen, but, no, Mr. Dettling was still in the room, not standing in the doorway. Sanjay paid closer attention.
His name again, then, “…Ayush…”
When the older man spoke, the only words Sanjay understood were “Ayush” and “Gamdevi.”
Knowing he would be pressing his luck to wait any longer, he quickly made his way out of the building.
Gamdevi. Gamdevi…Road?
Gamdevi Road was where Ayush had taken Sanjay for his interview with Pishon Chem. He was told they were temporary offices, and figured they were no longer being used once t
he company moved to the compound.
Was that where Ayush had been sent?
There was only one way to find out.
IT WAS NEARLY midnight when Sanjay reached Gamdevi Road. As was typical most anywhere in the city, there were still plenty of vehicles and pedestrians out and about.
He worked his way through the crowds to the building Pishon Chem had used. Their office had been in a storefront at the far end of the building on the street level. As he walked up to it, his heart sank. The windows had been partially covered with paper, but not enough to prevent him from seeing that the space beyond was completely empty.
His guess had been wrong. Whatever reason the man had mentioned Gamdevi, it apparently had nothing to do with either his cousin or the company’s old office.
I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Ayush will probably laugh at me when I tell him about it.
Feeling like a fool, he wandered over to a food stall near the street and ordered some pani puri. Once it was ready, he sat down on an overturned bucket and popped one in his mouth. As he chewed, his eyes gazed down the street on nothing in particular. It would take him at least an hour to get back to the compound, which would probably mean he wouldn’t be asleep until two a.m. He shook his head in self-annoyance. He would get three hours’ rest at best before a day that was already going to be busier than usual. He would be a wreck by bedtime tomorrow night.
He shoved a second pani puri into his mouth and pushed himself to his feet, knowing to delay any longer would just make the next day worse. But instead of starting down the street, he remained where he was, frozen in place.
Getting out of a cab fifty feet away was Mr. Dettling. Sanjay watched as the man approached the building and walked up to an unmarked door between two of the shops. As soon as he was sure Mr. Dettling couldn’t see him, Sanjay followed.
The manager pulled out a set of keys, unlocked the door, and went inside. Since it had worked one time already this evening, Sanjay raced forward to grab the door before it completely closed. Unfortunately, this time the distance was too great and the door clicked shut.
The Project Eden Thrillers Box Set 1: Books 1 - 3 (Sick, Exit 9, & Pale Horse) Page 45
