by Mark Kelly
“Unless they’re lying.” The words were shouted from the back of the auditorium.
Simmons turned. It was John Raine. Just seeing him soured his mood.
“I’m not saying they’re responsible, Raine muttered “We all know it was North Korea but they may have helped them.”
Raine sat down and Simmons thought about it. It was conceivable that China would have the expertise to pull this off—maybe—but why would they help the North Koreans do something like this? It made no sense.
“That could be,” Lexington said, agreeing with Raine, “but we know the death counts out of China are real. Before our ambassador was recalled, she was given information by the Chinese government—information that was most assuredly intended to illustrate that China was not immune.
“They also asked if we would be open to sharing research. That’s a first and their request is being considered by the President. That said, his enthusiasm was tempered by the capture of three Chinese nationals who were discovered yesterday trying to cross the border from Mexico. I’m not in a position to discuss the details but there were indications the men weren’t run-of-the-mill illegals.”
She took a brief sip of water from a glass on the podium and continued. “While I am on the topic of borders, this morning the President signed an executive order authorizing the closure of all land, sea and air borders as of noon today—that’s five hours from now.”
It’s too late, Simmons thought. You quarantine to keep things out or to keep them in. The bacteria is already in the United States. It’s nothing more than a political statement to appease the public, give them a false sense of security.
“The border closures will be supported by soldiers from National Guard units that have been federalized,” she explained. “Twenty thousand have been called up to guard our southern border and another fifteen thousand will be called up to do the same in the north.
“I should also add, that our borders aren’t the only challenge. We are starting to see significant traffic issues in a number of cities as residents exit the urban areas.
“The most affected are Washington, Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York. At this point, it isn’t much worse than a typical bad traffic day but it lasts all day long and is beginning to concern our logistics experts. It will make it difficult to move troops and supplies.”
“Where are people going?” Colonel Young asked.
“Anywhere they can. There are rumors circulating on social media that the bacteria spreads by physical contact, in the air—all sorts of crazy things. People are beginning to panic and they’re doing one of two things, sheltering in place or leaving.”
“Can you shut it down?”
“Social media? Yes, we have the means. We’ve also executed a very brief trial shutdown of the mobile networks and the internet to test our capabilities in those areas.”
She placed her hands on the podium, surveyed the audience and took a deep breath. Her voice was somber as she spoke. “My final update for today is perhaps the hardest one. The following institutions have been quarantined and unfortunately, more institutions are being added to the list every day.”
Abbott Northwestern Hospital
Albany Medical Center
Baptist Health Medical Center
Bellevue Hospital Center
That’s Mei’s hospital.
“What does that mean?” he shouted as his heart raced.
“Pardon?” It took her a second to locate him in the audience. She cocked her head, confused by his question.
He took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “What does quarantine mean?”
Still not understanding his question, she began to explain. “A quarantine is when you isolate a—
“I know what a quarantine is,” he said angrily. “What does it mean for these institutions?”
She bristled at his tone and answered in a slightly haughty voice. “No new patients, no entry or exit to the facilities. A safety perimeter around each institution manned by soldiers from the National Guard. Things like that.”
He remembered the Ebola outbreak in Liberia the year before.
“What happens if someone tries to leave the hospital?”
She froze and the auditorium went silent. “The soldiers have orders to stop them,” she answered stiffly.
“How?”
“Using any necessary means.”
“Including shoot to kill?”
“Yes.”
“Has that occurred yet?”
“No”
It was only a matter of time. A scared soldier and a desperate doctor or nurse or patient was all it would take.
“Are the people in those hospitals being left to fend for themselves?”
“No, of course not,” she said indignantly. “To the extent we are able, we will continue to provide supplies to the institutions that are under quarantine.”
To the extent that we are able. He was about to ask what that meant when Colonel Young interjected. “Thank you, Director Lexington. Is there anything else?”
She shook her head and the room erupted in nervous chatter.
Simmons sat by himself, worried about Mei. He watched as the audience trickled out of the auditorium. He couldn’t even talk to her, all communications on and off the base had been restricted.
"Hello, Tony. Did you get the vaccine data?"
He jumped in his seat and turned to see Dr. Mayer behind him. “Jesus— you scared me. Yes…I’m going to look at it today while I’m in the lab. I’m heading there in a few minutes.”
“Good. Let me know if you have any questions.”
She turned to leave and he spoke quickly. “I do have one. It’s somewhat related? Why aren’t both teams focused on vaccine development. Edward Gore told me the idea had been veto’d by some committee—why?”
She frowned and motioned at Lexington, who was about to leave the auditorium. “Go ask her, she can tell you all about it.”
HE CAUGHT up to the Director from Homeland Security as she was about to leave the building.
“Director Lexington…”
She turned at the sound of her name and watched him jog towards her.
“Yes—“ she said in a guarded tone.
“Tony Simmons.” He held out his hand. “Dr. Tony Simmons—sorry about getting snippy back there.” He motioned towards the door to the auditorium.
Her eyes softened. “Do you have a family member—someone you know in one of the hospitals?”
He nodded. “Yes, a friend.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“What can I do for you,” she asked after an uncomfortable pause.
“Dr. Mayer suggested I talk to you. I understand there was a proposal to merge the antibiotics and vaccine development teams but it was rejected. Can you tell me why?”
She stiffened. “I’m not sure its any of your business, Professor, but the president felt it best we continue to pursue both avenues.”
“The president?” his brows furrowed. “He was involved in the decision?”
“Yes, of course. As you can imagine, he’s very interested in anything that will help stop the pandemic.”
“But I think it’s been proven that antibiotics aren’t effective,” he argued. “I’ve seen it first-hand in the bacteria’s genes. Is he aware of the bacteria’s resistance to antibiotics?”
“The president has been briefed on everything.” Her haughty voice was back and he suddenly remembered where he knew her from. She had been the president’s mouthpiece when he announced he wouldn’t sign the “Preservation of Antibiotics for Medical Treatment Act” into law.
There was absolutely no way he would approve anything that involved admitting that antibiotics were ineffective—even if in this case, it had nothing to do with their abuse. Arguing with her would be futile and he wasn’t about to get face-time with the President.
“Anything else?” she asked and started to turn away.
“Just one more t
hing.”
“Yes?” She looked annoyed.
“It would be incredibly helpful to both the vaccine and antibiotic programs if we were able to locate an individual with natural immunity”.
Strictly speaking that wasn’t true. Such a person wouldn’t be of any use to the antibiotic program, but she didn’t need to know that.
She tilted her head slightly and blinked. “I was under the impression that no one was immune.”
He smiled and put on the charm. “Mathematically, the odds are small but they aren’t zero. It’s likely that somewhere in the United States is an individual with immunity.”
“There are three hundred and twenty million people in the United States, Professor. How to you propose to find this person.”
“Initially, my thought was that testing centers be established but that approach relies on people voluntarily traveling to a location where there would be crowds.”
“And?” She waited for him to finish explaining.
“You said it yourself during the briefing. People are on the move. They’re trying to escape crowds—so lets take advantage of that.”
“How so?”
“Set up testing locations along the interstates—or perhaps just off of them. For the most part, you have a captive audience to select from. If they’re on the road, then presumably they’re well enough to travel. A quick blood test for the presence of antibodies would be a sufficient initial screen. If that was positive, set the individual aside for more thorough testing.”
She loosened-up slightly. “It’s a very interesting suggestion, thank you. I’ll definitely bring it to the attention of the committee.”
“Great. Thank you.”
“And I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“Your friend in the hospital.”
He nodded silently and watched her walk away.
18
WE’RE HERE
March 28th, 16h45 GMT : Washington Dulles Airport
The two girls stood in a crowd at the edge of the baggage carousel watching the stainless steel conveyor belt loop in a circle.
“That’s the third time I’ve seen that one,” Saanvi said as she pointed to a red roller board with a blue ribbon wrapped around the handle. It disappeared and she turned to her friend.
“I still don’t see your bag. What color is it again?”
“It’s brown with a gold pattern on it,” Dishita replied in a disappointed voice.
Saanvi gave her a worried look. The person beside her was a shadow of the vibrant girl she had met just a few days earlier. She’s worried about her brother.
She put her arm around her friend’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “I’m sure he’s fine but do you want to call your grandmother and check?”
Dishita shook her head. “My phone is dead, no battery.”
“We can use mine,” Saanvi said helpfully and pulled it out of her purse.
“It’s too late, it’s after ten. I’ll call tonight. It’ll be morning for them.”
"I still can't believe your grandmother paid for my ticket,” Saanvi said wide-eyed as she looked around the airport, “or that I’m actually in the United States.”
Dishita’s eyes brightened slightly. “I’m so happy you’re here with me. Besides, it wasn’t too expensive. Nanni knew you couldn’t go home, at least not until the UK borders are re-opened, and my brother thought we would be safer here.”
Saanvi looked Dishita in the eyes. “He’s going to be okay. He’ll get better.”
Dishita gave her a sad look. “I hope so.”
Saanvi put the phone away. “Is that your bag!” she pointed to a piece of brown luggage on the carousel.
Dishita jerked her head towards it and scowled. “That’s not a Louis Vuitton.” She folded her arms across her chest and frowned.
Saanvi spotted an airline employee standing by a pillar with a clipboard in his hand. “Stay here, I’ll go see if he can help us.”
She brought him back and Dishita angrily explained that her luggage hadn’t arrived. "That bag has all my clothing," she told him after he had collected the details from her.
“It will turn up,” he said in a soothing voice, “and when we find it, we’ll deliver it to you—“ He looked at the claim form in his hand. “—at Madeira School.”
"When?"
"As soon as we've located it, Ms. Brar.”
She dismissed him with a wave. "They're useless, but at least I've got extra clothes at school.”
“We should go then,” Saanvi said to her. “It looks like they’re closing up.” The airport wasn’t busy at all. Nothing like Heathrow with it’s chaos.
“Airports don’t close,” Dishita replied.
As they walked out of the arrivals area, the baggage carousels ground to a halt, one by one, and as they did, the arrival boards above them went dark. To Saanvi, it felt like a dark shadow had arrived. She shivered.
It was ten minutes past noon on March 28th.
19
NOT ALONE
April 3rd, 17h40 GMT : Bellevue Hospital, NYC
Mei grabbed two MRE packs from the cardboard box that sat in the middle of the hospital’s loading bay. She paid no attention to their labels. It didn’t matter to her what they were. It was just food to fill the stomach and fuel the body.
As she left, she passed two orderlies and a nurse she didn’t recognize. Bellevue was a large hospital but the thousands of employees who had filled it before the outbreak had dwindled to a few hundred. Each day she recognized fewer and fewer of them.
She nodded to the nurse, a hollow-eyed woman dressed in a dirty but once-colorful set of scrubs. Maternity ward. She wondered about the babies and their mothers but pushed the thought from her mind. With the MREs in her hand, she headed back to the second floor.
Aside from the occasional moan, the ICU was still. Even during normal times it was a place of whispered conversations cut short by sobs—or sometimes laughter. Today, it was nearly empty, a ghost of its prior self.
She spotted the woman she had come to see sitting on the carpet of the visitor’s lounge with her back against the wall. Both of the woman’s children were dead but she couldn’t leave the hospital. No one could, the army had quarantined it a few days earlier. Bellevue had become a place of death.
She sat down beside the woman and held out an MRE package.
“Mrs Sanchez, you have to eat.”
She opened the package for her and placed the foil packs of food on the floor between the two of them. “Look—peaches, cake, crackers…rice and chicken.”
“Do you want it warmed up?” Most of the time she didn’t bother to use the chemical heaters that came with the package. Today she did. She wasn’t in a hurry to do what had to be done next.
She opened the chicken, scooped out a fork-full and brought it to the woman’s mouth. After two or three mouthfuls, the woman took the fork and worked through the meal on her own.
“Drink some water, Lucia. Do you mind if I call you, Lucia?” She held a plastic bottle to the woman’s parched lips and trickled some water into her mouth. As with the food, the woman began to drink on her own after a few sips.
While Lucia finished her meal, Mei started on her own. It was tasteless. All her senses were dulled from exhaustion. If it weren’t for the woman beside her, she would go the entire day without food.
She ate slowly, dragging it out as long as she could. When there was nothing left to eat, she took a swig of water and spoke. “I have to go now. I wish I didn’t, but I do.”
She didn’t wait for an answer and climbed to her feet, first on one knee and then the other. As she stood, the vials in the pocket of her scrubs clanged together. They wouldn’t break, but they reminded her of what came next. Until this morning, she wasn’t sure if she could go through with it.
She went to the floor above. Jason Grant, the intern, lay in a bed pushed up against the window. It overlooked the East River. He had told Mei he didn’t want a painted ho
spital wall to be the last thing he saw before he died.
She stood silently in the doorway and thought about his words to her. “A few of us are thinking about leaving…what about you?”
That had been days earlier, an eternity. But he didn’t leave, he stayed and helped. She had asked him to.
“Is that you, Mei?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“Did you bring it?”
“Yes.”
“Thank…you” His words were barely audible.
She forced herself to enter the room and finish what she had promised him she would do.
The first vial contained Sodium thiopental, a barbiturate that would put him into a deep coma. She would give it to him first. She filled a syringe with a massive dose, capped it and stuck it in her shirt pocket.
The second vial sat in the palm of her hand, her fingers wrapped so tightly around it she could feel her nails digging into her skin. It was a powerful muscle relaxant that would stop his lungs from functioning. He would suffocate and die.
As his chest moved up and down, a short breath every few seconds, she hesitated and then removed the first syringe from her pocket. She uncapped it and pressed the needle against the muscle in his upper arm.
He smiled at her, as if to give her his final approval—or maybe forgiveness. Then he stopped breathing.
She felt the weight of her promise disappear. She wouldn’t have to keep it, but she still cried. For him and for everyone else she couldn’t save.
20
LOCK DOWN
April 4th, 12h50 GMT : Fort Detrick, Maryland
The lab was brimming with activity when he passed through the airlock a little before 8:00 a.m.
It’s a big change from a few days ago, Simmons thought as he ran his eyes up and down the row of tables and watched the researchers in their protective suits working on all manner of equipment.
He had met some of them before and those he hadn’t, he knew by reputation. It was a veritable who’s who of the most brilliant scientists in the United States and a testament to how serious the pandemic was being taken.
Without wasting any time, he moved to a free station, connected his air supply and jiggled the mouse to activate the computer monitor. Dr. Mayer was already signed in. He searched the lab for her but everyone looked the same in the bulky blue suits.
