by Lara Nance
“Thank you. We need to take some samples, but not from all of them. Three should be sufficient,” she said. “And I’ll need blood from one of the live victims.”
The man stared at her a few seconds. “From a live one?”
“Yes.”
“No offense, but how do you propose to do that? They try to attack anyone who comes near them.”
She held up an air-syringe. “I’ll use a stun vapor.”
“Oh. Well…” He coughed and glanced away.
“Take us to the bodies, Captain,” Linc said. “We’re on a tight time schedule.”
“Of course.” He led them across a parking lot for a local seafood restaurant where several containment units had been erected. Their clear sides showed stacked bodies of the dead. Encased in blobs of plas-sealant, they remained wrapped in blood-soaked clothes, chunks of flesh missing here and there.
She swallowed, suffering a flashback to the scene in the streets of Cameron. At least having the bodies encapsulated eliminated the dank smell of old blood, guts and rotted flesh. She could extract samples through the coating and it would self-seal.
Soldiers and civilian workers moved about in their clear containment suits, a cacophony of crinkling sounds surrounding them. The small town was little more than a main street lined with shops and restaurants, but behind that bucolic facade, apartment buildings rose ten or twelve levels. Other than the layer farm where their copter had landed on the roof, most available space had been utilized for housing.
Linc carried sample kits, and they worked together to methodically address different parts of each body. “This place reminds me of Cameron, except for the apartments.”
She packed her last tube of tissue. “I was thinking the same thing. They tried to keep the quaint touch as much as possible. They must have a lot of vacationers visiting the Bay.”
“Have you been here before?”
“No, and I wish I wasn’t here now.” She grimaced, thinking of her next task. “I have what I need. How about you?”
“I’m good.” He closed the top of his kit.
“Let’s ask Captain Courageous to take us to where they’re holding the live victims.”
He smiled. “We’ll let him know he doesn’t have to help.”
She chuckled. “Otherwise he may delegate that duty. Strange how he’d probably never bat an eye at attacking a normal human enemy. Turn something into a monster and it scares even the bravest person.”
“Fear of the unknown,” he said, as they exited the decontamination portion of the unit. “It’s powerful.”
A shiver of apprehension crawled up her neck at the thought of seeing a living specimen under control of the terrible parasite. She wondered if this was how people felt long ago when they encountered new illnesses with similar devastating results like small pox or Ebola. The pictures of those patients had haunted her during her studies. She never imagined she’d have to face something even more insidious.
Armed guards escorted them to an area where long prison pods stood in rows at the small local airport. Each of the five pods had six, eight-by-five-foot sections of solid clear aluminum except for traditional bars in the front. Twenty of the cells held an occupant, ten men and ten women. Goose bumps rose on her arms. How did that even separation of sexes happen? Coincidence? Could procreation factor into the parasite’s next level of mutation?
She and Linc stopped simultaneously. The prisoners stood in identical poses, facing them, hands clasping bars and faces pressed to a space between. Their eyes reminded her of a hawk’s, half-lidded but intent on the people passing in front of the pods, rarely blinking. She could feel hunger for her flesh in those hot, greedy gazes. Splashes of blood stained their ripped clothing. Several had injuries to their faces and arms, probably from fighting off others.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered and headed for the closest cell. As they moved toward it, the man inside bared his teeth and issued a humming sound. After a few seconds, the other prisoners picked up the note, and the eerie monotone hum stopped everyone in the vicinity and caused them to turn and stare.
“What the hell?” Linc put a hand on her arm, stopping her. “I don’t like this.”
She scanned the people in the other five cells of this pod. They each looked directly at her. She stumbled back a step, and Linc gripped her arm tighter. She fumbled with the flap of her bag and finally set it on the ground. She had no time for nerves, needing to obtain blood for Manson to test.
“I’ll shoot him while you get the vacu-probe ready.” Linc took the air-syringe from her shaking fingers.
Her throat wouldn’t allow words to escape, and her mouth went dry as she gazed into the crazed, soulless orbs of the man behind the bars. As they approached the cell, the humming took on a higher pitch. At a few feet away, the man lunged against the bars, arms outstretched.
Ria screamed, and they both jumped. She held her vacu-probe against her chest to brace her suddenly weak arms. Linc wasted no more time and lifted the metal syringe and fired the spray into the man’s face. The prisoner opened and closed his mouth a few times before his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled.
“Hurry,” Linc said. “We don’t know if this will last as long as it does on an uninfected person.”
One of the soldiers opened the cell door, and she used every ounce of determination in her body to step inside. Linc stayed beside her, thank God. Every prisoner began to scream. The high-pitched, blood-curdling sound cut through her nerves like an ice-cold knife. She tried to keep her eyes fixed on the man’s arm, but the noise went beyond disconcerting. She pressed the metal tube to the skin of the inner elbow and lifted the side switch. A whiff of dried blood on his clothes made her gag. Hurry, hurry. A click and it was done.
“Come on,” Linc yelled against the roar of screams.
He nearly dragged her from the cell. As the guard slid the door closed, the man’s eyes opened. He twisted on the floor, growled and lunged, rattling the bars.
Her heart pounded, and she clamped her hands over her ears. They hurried from the pod as medics arrived and sprayed the people in the cells with tranquilizers. The screams grew fainter. As she glanced over her shoulder, they dropped to their knees, still grasping the bars and staring at her.
“Get me out of here,” she yelled, frantic, her skin crawling with terror as those inhuman screamed reverberated in her head.
A wail of screeching voices came from the right, and five individuals emerged from trees at the side of the small runway. They ran fast, arms outstretched, straight for her and Linc.
“Linc,” she screamed.
He pulled his pistol from his belt and fired while pulling her to him with one arm. Two of the crazed men fell to the zap of the beams.
“Run!” he yelled.
They bolted up the sidewalk next to the airport’s office. The sizzling bang sound of his gun brought soldiers scrambling in their direction. One of the cannibal men pounded close behind, growling and screaming. The sound closed in until she imagined she felt his warm breath on her neck. At the moment she expected him to leap on her, Linc pushed her forward. She lunged to the ground, scraping her hands on the concrete.
He turned and met the once human creature head-on, swinging his right fist into the man’s gut. The guy made an oof sound and doubled over, rolling to the pavement from his interrupted momentum. Linc stood over him and fired a hot beam into his head. It exploded like a ripe watermelon, sending blood and brains in a shower of gore.
Her stomach churned as she wiped a wet, purplish glob from her facemask and nearly wretched.
“Miss Moralez, Dr. Butler, this way.” A soldier motioned them to an air-car and whisked them to their copter. The pilots stood beside it, also in clear suits, and came to alert when the car pulled up. Their faces took on masks of horror as Linc’s and she emerged from the car. He’d sustained the worst of the brain explosion and dripped in blood and chunks of matter.
“Over here,” one of them
called.
A clear circular tube lowered from the bottom of the craft. One by one, they entered the tube for decontamination and were lifted inside. She went first, followed by one of the pilots, then Linc and the last pilot. The mess showered over their suits disappeared in the process, but it was too late. The image would stay in her mind forever. She stripped out of her suit, filled with revulsion and determined never to touch it again.
“Ready for takeoff, Ma’am?” the last pilot asked after the tube brought him up.
“Yes. Get us to Omaha with all speed.” She went into the main cabin on rubbery legs and almost fell into her seat as she tossed her bags to the floor.
The copter lifted before Linc had a chance to buckle in, but he managed to slip into the harness despite the sway as they rose.
“That was seriously messed up shit back there,” he said, his brow furrowed and a glint of panic remaining in his eyes. “We’ll have to alert the military to this behavior.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and forced her breaths to slow so her heart would calm down. “I can’t thank you enough for being in that, that, cage with me and stopping the creature from attacking us. I thought I was going to lose it. I’ve never felt so close to death. I’m beginning to rethink the need to carry a gun.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, breathing hard. “Yeah, they come in handy now and then. Why did the victims hum? Do you think they’re trying to communicate? It’s like the escaped ones came when the others called to them.”
A tremor shook her, and she closed her eyes for a second. After a deep breath, her heart slowed its racing pace. That sound they’d made had unnerved her. She’d wanted to run as far from the disaster as possible and hide where no one could find her. Walking into that cell had been the bravest thing she’d ever done.
“Linc, I don’t think they’re trying. I think they are already communicating. This just got a whole lot worse.”
Chapter Fifteen
Dr. Manson moved his finger along the screen of the micro-viewer. Ria and Linc stood behind him with other members of the North’s team. A video link broadcasted to the rest of the South’s team. She hoped the samples they’d delivered yesterday would prove valuable. Louis had worked through the night, studying them.
“This is the same parasite and virus as the ones found in the South,” he said. Then he frowned. “With some subtle differences. I’ve detected minute changes in the DNA strands with advances over time. The virus is altering its replication in a sentient manner that also changes the parasite’s DNA. I’ve never seen anything like it. This discovery is momentous.”
“What a way to finally get that Nobel Prize you’ve always wanted,” Ria muttered.
Manson shot her a quelling look then turned to the screen, advancing the view. “You can see the sequences in this shot. The differences are here and here.”
“Why is it reconfiguring the DNA?” Dr. Peters asked.
“The reason viruses always do it. To survive,” Manson said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Did he actually have an appreciative gleam in his eyes? Of course the tiny beast was amazing, but still, it killed people and animals. She couldn’t be too proud of its abilities. If it wasn’t such a bright little virus, they might stand a better chance of defeating it.
Linc spoke up. “As we said in our report from the incident in Deltaville, there’s reason to suspect they’re also learning to communicate and cooperate. That’s the likely result of the DNA changes.”
Their epidemiologist, Dr. Quentin asked, “Have you had any luck with developing a vaccine or an anti-parasite agent? We haven’t.”
“No,” Dr. K said, strain giving his tanned skin a yellowish tint that made him appear ill. He massaged his temple. “And with the rapid mutations, it will be nearly impossible.”
A beep sounded behind her. The emergency announcement alert. A second later, a buzzer went off on the Southern vid-feed.
“Hold on,” Louis said. “There’s news coming through.”
They gathered around his desk as the comm-screen lit. An image of two women and a man appeared. The North’s triumvirate. Apparently the injured member, T.M. Rominoff, had recovered from the bomb injuries and left the hospital. This picture came from the capital compound.
“Greetings fellow citizens,” the member named Isabella Suarte said, her face grim and drawn. “It is with grave concern that I must report an outbreak of the cannibal disease in India. There are at least a hundred casualties. The source has not yet been determined, but it cannot be ruled out that a tanker from the ROA that docked there a few days ago didn’t carry the problem to their shores.”
“Damn it,” Link muttered under his breath.
She slipped a hand through the crook of his arm for support.
Tukante Merabinata spoke next, her dark brown face more creased than her sixty years had contributed. “We also have reports of more outbreaks on the Atlantic coast of both the DOA and the ROA in the last few hours with death tolls in the thousands and countless escaped victims.” She pressed her lips in a firm line for a few seconds then continued. “Due to this spread, we are forced to make difficult and challenging decisions that will affect our entire populace.
“First, all coastal cities will be immediately evacuated. Inland cities will set up refugee centers for coastal citizens to relocate. Second, there is a moratorium on seafood products until further notice. And third, designated minimum security prisons will be emptied for use in detaining live victims. Also, until further notice, each city will form blockades and police all citizens coming and going. Unfortunately, the capital of Omaha will deploy its shield barrier and restrict unauthorized travel from its boundaries until further notice.”
Manson stared at the screen, transfixed. Everyone appeared in shock, although they had discussed the possibility of such actions prior to today.
T.M. Rominoff, one side of his face still red from a skin transplant after his burns, said, “Although the situation is dire, we have the best minds on both sides of The Divide working on a solution. Do not panic. Remain calm and follow your government’s orders to maintain safety. Those of you in coastal cities will receive specific instructions for evacuation from your local law enforcement. Proceeding in an orderly manner will save time and lives.
“If anyone spots a person or animal who appears infected, contact the hotline listed on the bottom of this screen. Do not approach them under any circumstance. Find a secure place and report the location at once. These individuals are extremely dangerous. We will make more announcements when news is available. Until then, may the deity of your choice bless the Democracy of America.”
“Now what?” Dr. Berman asked, twisting her hands together. “We’re going to be cut off from the rest of the country. How will we obtain samples from new victims?”
Louis pursed his lips and rubbed his chin for a moment, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “I have to meet with the triumvirate. Quite a few questions are left unanswered. We’ll need live specimens to ever reach the point of testing an antidote. And Dr. Butler here is trapped in this country.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Linc said. “I’d rather be here working on a solution. And if we’re able to leave and obtain samples, I can help with that. Ria and I know what to expect now.”
She shuddered, fully willing to let someone else take over the sample collection. Linc didn’t have to volunteer them to do it. But he was right. Their experience would be beneficial. She pointed to the screen, which now showed a map of the world with red dots where outbreaks had occurred. She sucked in a sharp breath at the number. An explosion had happened overnight.
“What the hell? There must be over fifty sites now,” Linc said incredulously, running his fingers through his short blond hair.
She clapped a hand over her mouth at the shock of this massive change. Dr. Berman let out a small cry and did the same.
“I’m going to the capital compound,” Louis said. “Everyone else, contin
ue working. We’re racing time.”
***
Linc automatically put a comforting arm around Ria’s shoulders against the desperate tension of reality, and she leaned her head against him. The world was falling apart, its citizens eating each other. The impact would devastate the economy as well as the people. This crisis would drive both countries into a serious depression with food shortages, lack of jobs and a lack of housing for the displaced persons. Hospitals and the military would be overwhelmed. The list was endless.
“Let’s get back to work,” Ria said in a low voice, moving from the circle of his arm. She gave him a grateful smile, however. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“I feel helpless. It was the best I could offer.” He shrugged. The comfort of human contact gave him a boost of hope as well. There was no denying the despairing nature of their situation. However, as long as they were alive there was a chance they could overcome the invading parasite. Closeness to Ria made him want to go on and be strong, to protect her and those around her. He supposed it was some primeval male urge he didn’t control, but his mind said she was a good person and deserved his loyalty and support. That it could be more than that…attraction…he had no time to explore. Maybe when this was over.
The team returned to their respective offices to work on their parts of the dilemma. He and Ria continued the comparison of the DNA from the different mutations to log the levels of the changes. It was painstaking work, even with the North’s advanced sequencer. Genetics wasn’t his field, but he could press the correct buttons and monitor the output as Ria guided him through the procedures.
“I have to say, the advanced level of equipment here is impressive,” he said, marveling at the rapid process. In a way it shamed him that the South had not put as much emphasis on science over the years. It gave him a better understanding of why the North would assume a superior attitude. They had the best scientists, they’d developed better diagnostic equipment and they hadn’t trashed their space program as the South had. But if it ever came to a war, the South’s beefed up military would trounce anyone.
