by Ellis, Tara
“I have to go clear the garage,” Hernandez said, clearly still in mission-mode. “Is she dead?”
Peta took a hesitant step forward so she could lean on the kitchen island. “I don’t think so, but close enough. She’s got an open laptop next to her and it looks like she has it set up as a hotspot with whatever SAT configuration that’s running. There’s some other stuff in there too, but I didn’t stick around to check it out.” She hung her head and took a deep breath, and Tyler wondered how she wasn’t totally freaking out.
What little information they had about The Kuru was tumbling around in his head. They didn’t really know how people were getting it. But it was a big room, and it was unlikely he’d gotten close enough to be exposed, but Peta…
“I’m so stupid!” she spat, slamming her hands down on the white marble. “I should have known better than to come in here without a mask on!”
“We should have known better,” Devon corrected. “Except we were more concerned about the people being a threat, not an infection. I don’t understand how it could even be out here. I mean, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Besides, you and I both know these cheap dust masks aren’t going to do much of anything to protect us from prions if it’s airborne. We got these for the ash, Peta. I’m not sure we’d even be safe wearing an N99 respirator.”
“Wait, what?” Tyler gasped, taking another step back on the porch. His dad had explained the different masks to him while they were holed up in the bunker back on Madagascar, so he had a basic understanding of how they worked and what the different levels of protection meant.
“Prions are much smaller than a virus,” Peta explained, her voice rising. She scowled at Devon while she gestured to her own mask, as if it was somehow his fault for pointing out the obvious. “This thing isn’t even N95 rated, meaning it will only block out large particulates, like ash, but not something as small as a virus and certainly not a prion, if it were in the air.”
“Clearly, we’re underestimating this prion thing,” Hernandez said. “You’re the doctor, Peta. What should we do?”
“I’m not that kind of doctor!” she snapped, throwing her hands up in the air.
Yeah, freak out time.
Tyler didn’t resist when Devon pulled him the rest of the way back, so they were standing in the middle of the porch, facing the open doorway. “I’m sorry,” he offered, knowing the apology was stupid and useless, but he didn’t know what else to say.
However, it seemed to have an effect on Peta. As she focused on Tyler, her back straightened, and she clasped her hands together for a moment before holding them up in the air with her fingers splayed like she was about to call the next game-winning play. “Okay. Okay…Hernandez.” She turned to look at him. “Go clear the garage. If all is good, that’s where you three can go to get out of the sun for the next day or two, until we’re sure I’m not infected.”
Devon was nodding. “Right.” He held out one of the papers he’d been clutching to his chest. “This was taped to the middle of her “wall of weird” back in her office. It’s a fairly recent fact sheet from the CDC, and it says symptoms show up within twenty-four-hours of exposure. Headache first, with a fever, and then the rapid onset of neuro decay.”
“So, we self-quarantine?” Hernandez didn’t sound happy. “In a world that’s basically an open petri dish? I don’t see the point in that. If you’ve got it, we probably all have it. There’s nothing to be done about it and it doesn’t change the mission.”
Peta huffed, making no attempt to hide her frustration. “I’ll be the only one in isolation. Even if the prions are airborne, I doubt they would travel very far before falling to the ground, or live for long outside the body. I’m the only one who got close to her. I’ll stay in the house and go through all this information to see if I can find anything of value, and I can use the uplink here to send everything, just like we planned. Mission accomplished, without unnecessarily exposing everyone else. Devon,” she added quickly before Hernandez could try and argue with her. “We have no idea how infectious this is, and you don’t know when Mads touched those papers. Set them on the floor for me, and then go wash your hands with an outside hose.”
Devon’s arm jerked out like the papers had suddenly morphed into a poisonous snake and he cursed under his breath as he dropped them back inside the house. “There’s a bunch of stuff in there you’re gonna want to see,” he said to Peta, wiping his fingers on his shorts. Pausing, he then looked down at his legs and cursed again. “I think I’ll just go find a lake or something to jump into.”
“Why are you all just standing here talking?” Bill whisper-yelled from behind them.
Tyler spun around to face his dad, already feeling an enormous sense of guilt. Devon jogged down the stairs and past him without comment, holding his hands out to his sides.
Hernandez walked toward the door and motioned for Tyler to move back out of his way. “House is cleared,” he barked, stepping outside. “Unfortunately for our mad scientist friend, she seems to have managed to get herself infected with this Kuru thing in spite of being a hermit.”
Bill blanched and stumbled back while at the same time seeking out Tyler’s face. “Did you go in there?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you radio me?” he yelled accusingly at Hernandez. “Why did you let Tyler come near this place?”
The ensign shot a sideways look at Tyler before starting down the stairs and it was clear he was on his own with his dad. “I’ll let your son explain it,” he said to Bill as he walked past him, toward the large garage. “I’m going to finish confirming we’re alone before getting too comfy.”
“Did you go inside?” Bill repeated, ignoring Hernandez.
Tyler took the steps two-at-a-time and stopped a few feet short of his dad. “Yeah, but I didn’t get close to the lady or touch anything. I’m sorry,” he added before his dad could respond.
To Tyler’s surprise, his dad silently put an arm around his shoulders and led him around the front of the house, away from the garage. “It’s alright. You’re going to be okay. Why don’t you tell me what you guys found in there?”
Gathering his thoughts, Tyler saw that Devon had successfully located a hose and was already stripped down to his underwear in the front yard. It appeared he was trying to wash out his eyes and gargle at the same time. Tyler wanted to laugh, but instead had an extremely strong urge to join him.
Under the somewhat muted California sun with the giant Ponderosa Pines standing guard, Tyler described everything he’d seen in the house. As he spoke, he felt a camaraderie with his dad he’d been missing the past few days. It reminded Tyler of the special bond they shared and that in spite of everything that was happening, his dad was right, he would be okay. So long as they stuck together and never gave up on each other, they would both be okay.
Chapter 9
JASON
McIntosh lake FEMA Camp
Near Rainier, Washington
“No fever,” the Army doctor called over his right shoulder, his voice muffled and hard to hear through the hazmat suit and full-faced respirator he was wearing. An assistant in the same get-up stood near the doorway of the tent, jotting down his dictations. It was a large military-issued canvas shelter, set up with two rows of four cots that were all empty. One wall was lined with tables housing various medical equipment, and he’d been directed to sit on one of the available folding chairs for his exam.
Jason did his best not to react negatively, though as soon as the commander of the FEMA camp had restricted Marty from accompanying him to the medical tent, his mood had soured. Gentry promised to take good care of him, but Jason’s world had shrunk drastically over the past week and he was very protective of what he had left.
The physician was young for his position, and Jason guessed he was relatively new to the job. He hadn’t even introduced himself or acknowledged Jason, and was treating him like a growth in a petri dish. The only thing keeping him from causing a scene was the knowledge that cooperating was
the only way to achieve both of his goals: reunite with Marty, and find a way to get the military to take him south.
“Eyes are clear, lung sounds are clear and present in all lobes.” The man moved the stethoscope from Jason’s chest to his extended arm, and took a moment to inflate the cuff that was already strapped into place. “Blood pressure one-forty over seventy-eight.” He frowned at the pulse-ox clamped to his finger. “Sat is ninety-eight, and he’s a bit tachy at a hundred-five.”
When the doctor raised his eyebrows suspiciously at Jason, it was enough to push him over the edge. “You’ll have to forgive me for being a little amped up,” he said through a clenched jaw. “Perhaps if you played some relaxation music and got someone to rub my neck, I could get my vitals back into a more satisfactory range for you.”
“Headache?”
So, the guy has no sense of humor. Check.
“No, sir!” Jason barked. “No headache, no fever, no swollen glands, red eyes, neurological symptoms, or weakness in any extremity. Same as Sergeant Gentry reported when we arrived, same as I told the medic who met me at the gate, and also what your triage nurse already determined. I understand your protocol,” he continued, before the guy could say it. “But if we can get through it without dumbing the process down, I’d appreciate it. I was a medic in the Marines for eight years, and was finishing up my residency at a level one trauma center when this hit. I think we’ll make a lot more progress if we work together.” He knew they’d already come to the conclusion he wasn’t infected, or else they would have swapped out his very basic N95 mask for something much more industrial.
Clearing his throat, the doctor’s back straightened and he rolled his shoulders before stretching his neck from side-to-side. His mask fogged briefly when he exhaled what must have been a calming breath, and he re-focused on Jason. “I apologize for the impersonal assessment. Let’s start over. I’m Captain Mark Chapman. I’ve been assigned as the lead physician in the camp and that makes me medically responsible for over fifty soldiers and some two-hundred civilians currently living in tents all around us. You’ll have to forgive me for being a bit uptight about a novel pathogen that’s currently decimating the human population and is likely the harbinger of an ELE. That’s an extinction—”
“Extinction Level Event,” Jason interrupted. “I know what it means. Isn’t it a bit premature to be throwing that term around?”
Chapman raised a hand, probably to rub at this face. When he encountered the hard plastic, he awkwardly lowered it and simply clasped it with his other gloved hand instead. The guy was obviously exhausted and very nervous. “I’m not the one using it. It was the headline of the latest update from the CDC.”
Extinction event. Jason grappled with the implication and shook his head. “I was hoping the rampant infection rate inside the hospital was partly due to our closed environment.” He grimaced as he recalled the conditions inside the building on the final day. “It was anything but sanity, and we were already a vulnerable group. Once The Kuru took hold, it was essentially impossible to properly quarantine or even implement basic protocol.”
“In the past forty-eight hours, the R naught has exploded. It’s infection rate has surpassed any other known pathogen.” Chapman turned to the nurse and reached for the clipboard. “Go get some dinner.,” he told her. Pulling a chair over, he then sat down opposite Jason and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The mask had cleared up enough so that Jason could see his face better, and he wasn’t surprised the captain didn’t look older than his late twenties. He had dark features and a strong jaw that gave the impression he was used to calling the shots.
“I’ve been kept up-to-date on your reports as they came from Harborview,” Chapman explained. “Unfortunately, the behavior of The Kuru has been consistent within the rest of the population. You guys were just a couple days ahead of the curve. The exponential spread has gone unchecked, helped along by the growing difficulty of dispersing both information and aid. With communication and transportation becoming increasingly compromised, it’s the perfect storm for a pandemic.”
“It’s been a week.” Jason was trying to understand how the disease could already be so widespread.
“They’re terrifying organisms,” Chapman replied. He sounded both awed and scared. “While technically, they aren’t supposed to be an organism but simply an infectious protein, they’re acting more like a bacteria or virus. Take your hospital as an example,” he continued, his mask fogging again as he breathed more heavily. “It was similar to the way a virus infects a cell. The prions are growing first in these “clusters”. The group of people, whether it be an: airport, hospital, or small town, is incubated. Once the prions have multiplied to the point where the hosts become symptomatic and infectious, the sick then “burst out” of containment in an attempt to flee the illness, thereby spreading it to a fresh breeding ground. Much the same way a virus replicates itself within the host cell before erupting and sending its freshly replicated DNA or RNA throughout the body. Except this time, Doctor Hunter, it’s the world that’s infected, and we are the carriers. It’s only a matter of time until she’s terminal.”
“Terminal,” Jason repeated. “You’re saying there’s no way to stop it? I understand the concept behind what you’re saying but I still think it’s too early to come to that conclusion. If I’m immune, there are others. I know there have to be others.”
Chapman hung his head for a few seconds before looking up again at Jason. “They’re estimating upwards of a ninety-five percent death rate, and I think that’s being really optimistic. I know it’s hard not to take this the wrong way, but you and a handful of survivors scattered around the world isn’t enough.”
It was getting harder to breathe, and there was a sudden pressure in Jason’s throat making it impossible to swallow.
“Our only chance as a species is to develop either a cure or prevention,” Chapman said, unaware of Jason’s rising panic. “This is a race, and if you are really immune—”
The full impact of what the captain was saying slowly worked its way into Jason’s mind and the impossible weight of it threatened to crush him. He needed air. He needed his dog. “Marty…”
Chapman stared at him quizzically, finally picking up on the shift in his mood as the heartrate on the pulse oximeter shot up. “Who’s Marty?”
“My…my dog,” Jason stammered as he stood and backed away from the metal chair until he bumped into the canvas siding of the tent. He snapped his hand out to his side and sent the finger monitor clattering to the ground. Bringing his freed fingers to his right temple, he pushed at it and closed his eyes, willing the sound of gunfire and exploding body parts to stay buried where it belonged.
“Corporal!” Captain Chapman was shouting, his voice sounding far away though he was still in the same room with Jason. “Go find this guy’s dog. Check with Sergeant Gentry in Camp One.”
He needed to open his eyes. He knew he needed to open his eyes and ground himself with where and when he was. Jason hadn’t had a waking episode since the first six months after being back in the states. He couldn’t allow himself to slip back down that slope. He opened his eyes.
“Doctor Hunter?”
Jason did his best to focus on Chapman. The young doctor was smart enough to keep his distance, and was using a monotone voice. Good. “Call me Jason,” he managed to force out, his hearing returning to normal as he breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. He realized he’d pulled the mask down at some point in his panic and pushed it back into place.
“You spent some time in Iraq.”
Jason nodded in reply though it wasn’t really a question, before picking up the pulse ox. He wasn’t sure how long he’d actually been standing there unresponsive, but as Marty ran in through the tent flaps, he realized it must have been for several minutes. Kneeling down, he welcomed the wet kisses as he wrapped his arms around the Shepard. The calming effect was immediate, and the tightness in his chest he had
n’t even known was there evaporated, making it possible to breathe normally again.
“We’re going to need your help,” Chapman said, once again foregoing any pleasantries or an attempt to address Jason’s episode.
Jason decided he might like the guy after-all. “You’ve already got it. Take my blood. Send it to the CDC or something.”
“I can do better than that.”
He stared at Chapman questioningly.
The doctor glanced over at the soldier who remained in the tent after delivering Marty and Jason noticed he was armed. “They’re going to want more than your blood.”
Jason’s only outward reaction was his hand stuttering in its movement through the hair on Marty’s back. In spite of the cryptic insinuation, there was a possibility it was just the opportunity he was looking for. “Who are “they” and where are they located?”
Chapman shrugged but visibly relaxed in response to Jason’s non-violent reaction. “I’m afraid I don’t know the exact details, only that there’s an operations center for The Kuru response located in southern California. Once we passed on Gentry’s report yesterday about your apparent immunity, the helo dropping our supplies tomorrow has been re-routed to take you there.”
Southern California. Not only would it enable him to keep his promise to Eddy by delivering the research, he could also get the proper people looking into his bloodwork to help determine why he was immune. Plus, it would get him a thousand miles closer to his final destination.
“You aren’t going to have to strongarm me into going,” Jason said, making a point of keeping his tone neutral. “That’s why I came here in the first place. So long as Marty can go with me, we won’t have any problems.”
“I don’t think that’ll be an issue,” Chapman said. “Given what’s at stake. I’ve got someone on a mission to find a tent for you that can be set up apart from the rest of the camp.” When Jason started to reply, he held up a hand to stop him. “I understand that you think you’re immune, and I happen to agree with you. However, I don’t have an electron microscope lying around out here to confirm you aren’t a carrier.”
