Okay, Mark, let’s get going, there is nothing you can do here. The best way you can help is to find out who brought this dead dog in and run the surveillance tapes for… then something hit me. I was not sick, Kirk was not sick, and so far, K and Sam were not sick. There had to be a time when all of us who were not infected were out of the building at the same time. Or maybe, just maybe, we had some sort of immunity to whatever this virus was.
I turned to the row of elevators. When they opened, I walked in, punched in the correct sequence, and the elevator dropped. The elevator was one of a kind. It was built so that it could not only travel up and down, but side to side as well. The WJA headquarters was under the Merc building. The only way down was by using a code, and even then, that would only get you as far as the front lobby.
When the doors opened, I was overcome with the silence of the place. Usually, the activity was bustling, and the lobby had the draw of adventure to it, but this was like a graveyard. I went through security and took off my suit. It was hard to move and look around with eighteen pounds of plastic strapped to your body.
It took me an hour to go through the underground center. I didn’t find anyone. I was glad, but at the same time, it scared me. I was not used to being alone in the WJA center. After concluding my search, I made my way to the control room.
The control room was where all the security cameras were linked in. They oversaw the Merc building as well as other outside locations of interest. I sat down in front of the five hundred monitors and began searching for anything that might help. We knew what the object was that triggered the virus, and we knew some of us were either not exposed or immune. But why?
I found the footage of the handsome black UPS man as he brought in the package. I followed him up to its final destination and even saw the poor secretary who opened it. The dead, rotting dog made her scream, and she almost fell over because she was so scared. I marked the day, time of the delivery, and began going through the footage.
I pulled up the infirmary and saw that at the exact time of the delivery, I was in bed sleeping, and K and Sam were sitting close by playing Go Fish. So much for being immune.
***
Isis woke up. Kirk stood up quickly and hovered over her like a scared rabbit. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” He was panting hard, and his face was lined with worry. Isis licked her lips and tried to speak, but all that came out was a dry croak.
Kirk handed her a plastic cup of water with a bendy straw. She took it and drank all the liquid. She sighed, looked at her arm where the IV was inserted and shook her head. She had a few more boils, and her once smooth skin was now blotchy and covered with open sores. “I’m fine… I mean…” Her voice cracked, and she smiled weakly at Kirk. “I guess I’m not fine, am I?”
Kirk kissed her hand and wiped her forehead with a cool cloth. “They’re doing everything they can, but no one around here seems to know what it is or what to do to stop it!” He was so frustrated, and seeing Isis like this was killing him.
Isis nodded toward the empty cup, and Kirk refilled it from the sink in the bathroom. She drained the second glass, closed her eyes, breathed in deep, and let it out slowly. “Where is Mark? Is he okay?” Kirk ground his teeth and swore under his breath. How could she be worried about Mark at a time like this? Doesn’t she know…? Then he remembered that she was the first to get sick, so she might not know that she wasn’t the only one.
“Isis, this is more than just some random thing. The entire Merc building is locked down, and the CDC has also locked this hospital down. They say it’s some sort of outbreak.” Isis looked at Kirk with wide eyes and tried to sit up. She was pushed gently back down by Kirk’s strong hand.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Isis, this was an attack on us, er… you guys. Mark thinks he knows who it was. He thinks it was Taras. He and I are the only ones that seem to not be affected by the virus, but that may be just a false hope. I could still get sick. Maybe it’s just taking longer with us.” Kirk tried to hide his anger toward Mark, but wasn’t doing a very good job.
“Kirk, if you can get whatever I have, you need to leave. Stay away from me. I don’t want you to get sick.” Kirk laughed and shook his head.
“Too late, we’re stuck now, they won’t let anyone out until they figure out what this is and how to stop it—or until we all die.” Isis frowned and coughed hard. Kirk helped her to a sitting position, and he looked into her dark, almost black, eyes. Her eyes were so beautiful, so knowing, as if she could look into his very soul.
“Don’t look at me like that, Kirk Weston. You are going to make me cry, and I do not cry, mister.” Isis touched his face, and Kirk leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
“You will be fine, kiddo. Mark is going to find out what is going on, and he promised to find the cure. All you have to do is hang in there.” Kirk knew that, even though Mark promised to fix this, it was not something he had the right to promise. No one could control this, and he of all people was beginning to understand how little control he had over his own destiny.
Kirk and Isis talked for a few more minutes before a doctor came back in to take some blood. He wore a type of mask and asked to take Kirk’s blood as well. “You are not sick yet, and we need to see if we can track this virus as it moves along.”
The doctor was a short man with a thick crop of black hair. He had good bedside manner, so Kirk didn’t object. After he drew his blood, Kirk asked. “So tell me, Doc, what are we looking at here? How bad is it?”
The doctor shook his head and said. “It isn’t looking good. We have a few patients over at the Merc building who have already died. It is moving fast, and we still don’t know how to effectively treat it. All we can do is treat the symptoms, and try to keep the patients as comfortable as possible.” Kirk looked back to Isis, who had fallen asleep again. Her face was scrunched up as if she were in pain or having a bad dream or something.
You better hurry up, Mark. You better not have lied to me… You promised… you promised!
CHAPTER 4
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE president of the United States of America.” The announcer ended his introduction and left the stage where a blue curtain hung behind a podium with the presidential seal. The president moved to the center of the stage as flashes filled the air and the sounds of clicking and whispers floated through the room.
Standing tall and adjusting his navy blue tie, the president began. He was not sure how to feel about the state of the country under his leadership, and even though he knew that the terrorist attacks were not his fault directly, he took full responsibility for the fear the country was experiencing, and he was saddened to have to prolong his people’s anxiety.
Most of his speeches were written for him, and all were filled with calming words and in turn did not say much. He knew this could backfire, but he decided to speak from his heart despite his aide’s disapproving glares.
“Tonight, I stand before you with a victory as well as a problem. I, like a father, look out over this country and think of you as my own children. I want to talk to you as a family, as I hope that you, the American people, feel the same way. This is no longer about politics or the side of the aisle on which you find yourselves; we are at a time in our country’s history that will define the landscape of our future and the future of our children and our grandchildren.” He took a sip from a glass of water and wiped sweat from his brow. He believed in the saying, “Never let them see you sweat,” so he felt like running from the stage and hiding under his desk.
“The terrorist known as the Red Dog has been killed, his comrades have been detained, and more are being pursued. Taras Karjanski was killed resisting arrest and will no longer be roaming our streets and killing at will. Let it be known: we will not be put under the thumb of fear or hate. Today, we stand strong. Today, we stand as one, and today, we have won!”
The crowd of reporters and representatives roared with applause and hooted in agreeme
nt. The president smiled, but hidden in his heart was the fact that he had to depend on some vigilante group to do what the FBI and CIA should have done. He ran his hand through his salt-streaked hair and waited for the crowd to settle down.
“We have won this battle, but the war is far from over. We still have to deal with the oil refineries that have been destroyed and the fallout that will come from lack of oil. I ask you, the American people, to take thought of tomorrow and work with each other so we can get through this period as quickly as possible. Now more than ever, we see the need to quit talking about alternative fuel and do something about it. Now more than ever, we need to cut off our dependence on foreign oil and be self-dependent.
“I have commissioned the US oil taskforce to begin drilling right here in America. However, this process will take time, and in the meantime, we still have to drive and carry on with our lives. There will be a restriction on fuel for individuals and businesses in effect immediately. Each person of driving age will be given credits every month. Businesses will be given credits to use for fuel. These credits will depend on the use of transportation, and if you do not have to travel, we urge you to stay close to home or find other ways to get from one place to another.” Questions flew up as he paused, but he held up his hand, and everyone quieted.
“More information will come out in the days to come. We all know that this will be a major setback, but what I do not want is oil prices to keep climbing. We are in the process of working with our neighboring countries in order to enact this credit system worldwide. This situation affects all of us, and now that we know where these attacks came from, we must work together and put policies in place to keep this from ever happening again. We are on the dawn of a new world, and one in which we can no longer afford to fight amongst ourselves. Now is the time to stand together. Now is the time to unite!”
The room trumpeted with cheers and clapping. Reporters yelled out questions and the president held up his hand, palm out. After the crowd calmed, the president continued. “The other matter we need to address is the virus that has broken out in New York City. The source is unknown, but the effect is contained at this time. Manhattan General and the Merc building are the two locations where the virus has been detected, and these buildings have been quarantined. The effects of this virus are not spreading to others, and it is believed that only the directly exposed are in any danger. I ask you to please keep calm and let the CDC take care of this matter. They are trained and will find a cure for this virus. Our main concern is to keep this from spreading and to help the people who have been exposed to this virus.”
“Is this virus another terrorist attack?” A reporter from USA Today managed to get a question in. The president looked at him and decided to answer.
“We have confirmation that this was the last act of the terrorist known as Taras Karjanski. He sent the virus in the mail and chose the Merc building as his main target. We will release more information as it is available. The main thing is to stay calm and let the CDC do its job.”
Taking another sip of water, the president looked out over the silent crowd. He marveled at how a group of reporters could be so quiet, but in times like this, the news gave way to humanity. They were all in this together, and even if it would be brief, they felt it too.
“I have one more matter to discuss concerning Taras Karjanski. He threatened our children and did indeed blow up a school. I will not allow this to happen again on my watch. The authorities are in the process of going through every school in this country to search for any explosives. Until this process is complete, school will be postponed until further notice. Every family with students in school from the grade of twelve on down will have the option to keep up online. Classes will be streamed live, via the internet. A website has been set up, so all you have to do is register your child, follow the simple steps, and continue their education in this manner until we deem it safe to return to normal classes.”
The press conference went on for over two more hours, with the director of the FBI, the secretary of education, and the energy commissioner speaking after the president. The president felt that they were now on the right track. He needed to stop the bleeding before the country died. He knew that fear and panic would follow, but he prayed it would be small and scattered.
***
I called K again and was relieved to find that she was still okay with no sign of an outbreak. “And Sam?”
“Sam is fine. I’m worried about you. They say that the virus is not spreading, that’s good right?” I was out of the loop and hadn’t made it to a TV in some time, so K filled me in on what the president said in his address. I was glad they pulled back the military and retracted martial law. The people needed to feel safe and nothing said you are not safe like tanks and soldiers with guns walking down every street and standing on the corner in front of Walmart.
“So did he say what this virus is?” I didn’t think he would know anything more than we did here on the ground, but it was worth a shot.
“No, just that it isn’t spreading. How is Isis?”
I shuddered at the thought of her lying so helpless and weak. She was such a strong woman, and to see her like that unnerved me. I had to find out what we were dealing with and why I wasn’t sick.
“She’s fine for now, but it’s getting worse by the minute. I think she’ll die soon if something isn’t done. Can you think of any reason you, me, and Sam wouldn’t get it?”
“What about Kirk? He’s fine, too, right?”
“Yeah, it seems like it is random: some are getting sick and some aren’t. I wonder what the trigger is.”
“Have you tried to dream?” The question caught me off guard.
“No, I don’t think it works that way. I can’t just pull up a menu and pick what I want to see. I can dream of the future but I don’t think the past.”
“Well have you ever tried? If it doesn’t work, you are no worse off.”
I figured she was right. I was not one to quit, and if I even had a tiny chance of glimpsing into the past, I wanted to try. “I’ve never even tried. But you are right, I have nothing now, and if it might help, I’ll give it a shot.” I decided that Solomon’s old office would work the best. It was deep underground, and no one would disturb me there. I hung up with K and promised to call her after I was done to let her know how it went.
I took the elevator as it moved deeper underground and then began to move sideways through a long dark tunnel. The sides of the elevator were made of glass, so I could see through on all sides. No matter how many times I walked around down here and saw everything the WJA could do, it still amazed me.
The double doors opened, and the main lobby with a tall desk where Solomon’s secretary used to sit was empty. I pushed the large, heavy, wooden door to his office open, and the smell of leather and paper filled my lungs. He had thousands of books lining the walls in oak bookshelves. The dim lighting gave the office a mysterious feel, and I could still smell the scent of pipe smoke.
There was a large leather sofa, and I fumbled in my pocket for some sleeping pills. I did not have a hard time sleeping, but when I needed to dream (or glimpse, as I called it) sometimes I needed some help. I popped two in my mouth and chewed them. The taste didn’t bother me. After using it so many times, I got used to it.
I lay down, and my head spun with all the things I had to do. I thought about Kirk and the expression on his face as he looked at Isis. He was so distraught and filled with grief of the unknown. I tried to clear my mind and to think about Taras. I hated him, and even though he was dead, I didn’t want to think about him or see through his eyes again.
I did it once before and I had no desire to do it again, but I didn’t have a better plan, so I focused. I let the package with the dead dog in it fill my mind. I tried to replay every detail of what it looked like, the color of the brown cardboard, the shipping label, and the way the UPS guy carried it under his arm.
I brought up Taras in my mind, thought of hi
s features, and willed myself to see him. The scar above his eye, and the way his hair hung in black and silver around his ears. His sneer and the smell of Vodka on his breath. He was so dark and evil. I remembered the way his mind felt as I saw from his eyes. The way it wrapped around me like a warm blanket, but tight as a vice. I didn’t want to go there, but I had to go.
Kirk and Isis were depending on me, the WJA was depending on me, and I was the only one who could save them. I had one shot at this, and if it failed, I was out of ideas. My eyes grew heavy and my arms and legs fell limp as I began to drift off into whatever world I went to in glimpses.
I never thought about it before, but what made me so different that I could dream of the future, or of the past, for that matter? How did I escape the grave and kill Taras only days ago? Where did that light that freed me come from, and how could I explain that I killed a man with no weapon but with some sort of light that shot from my body?
I wondered if it was stress or some sort of reflex that kicked in so I would stay alive. I didn’t have the answer, and as I fell into a glimpse, my last thought was why… not of Taras, not of Kirk, or of Isis, but just the question. Why?
CHAPTER 5
KREIOS BOARDED THE 747 and didn’t mind thinking how stupid it was to fly like this. He hated the smell of recycled air and the feel of the pop can these people called advanced technology. He found his seat in first class and sat down heavily, breathing in a sigh of relief. No, it was anxiety, and now not only would this flight take too much time, but the pull of the book was stronger. It was in danger; he could feel it.
After ten minutes, all the other passengers were seated, and the door was sealed shut. He didn’t like closed-in spaces, and he could feel sweat bead up on his forehead as the slim stewardess asked him if he wanted something to drink.
IN YOUR DREAMS (Mark Appleton #3) Page 3
