Rise of the Plague (Book 1): Endemic

by Jeannie Rae

  The heat of the summer day had already begun to seize the morning, even at this early hour. Although the official start of fall should begin next week, it seemed that Mother Nature hadn’t received the memo. It had been a lengthy, dry and unusually scorching summer so far and it seemed as if the breezy, fall weather would never arrive.

  Roxy examined Mattie’s pale yellow truck, it was an oldie, but it made it. There were primer patches in various spots and old dents and scratches that were being swallowed in rust. The faded brown camper shell didn’t match the truck in any way, although Roxy thought that they were probably manufactured around the same era. The ladies pressed their noses against the glass pop out window on the side of the camper shell.

  This area wasn’t the best of neighborhoods. There were no sidewalks, only dusty gravel and weeds with ensnared candy wrappers and trash on the sides of the road. The houses on this street were aged and in poor condition. The house across the street had a broken window with large shards still stuck in its frame and a board covering it from the inside. Graffiti had been scrawled along all the mailboxes down the road. Roxy spotted a man ahead, about two and a half blocks down, in the street. By the way he shuffled his feet, he had to be infected.

  “Yeah, the dogs’ll be fine back there for a minute. We’ll just be here for a sec, and then we’ll be on our way. Wonder why they left the gate open?” Mattie said impatiently.

  Mattie approached Roxy and Dave and began walking up the breezeway with them.

  Suddenly, a Hispanic man came running at them from the backyard gate at the far side of the house.

  “Run!” he yelled sprinting across the front lawn toward the driveway.

  Following closely behind him were two other men. These were no ordinary men chasing him, they had the infection. Mattie reached for his gun as the Hispanic man approached. The man pushed past Roxy, grasping her shoulder and pulling her toward the infected, as he gained more momentum. Frantically, Roxy turned to escape the two closing in. Her boots caused her to lose her footing on the slick grass, and to sink to a knee. She pushed off the ground with her hands to gain traction, as the infected man out front buried his teeth into her shoulder. He immediately released and pulled away. He let the glob of Roxy’s flesh fall from his mouth onto the grass and began screeching at a deafening pitch. Roxy shrieked in pain as a gunshot rang out, then another. Both infected were dead on the ground, but Mattie still had his gun aimed.

  The Hispanic man, that had just crossed the lawn, circled back and ran up to the porch of the house, joining a woman near the front door. They looked on at Roxy and Mattie.

  Roxy fell back to her knees on the lawn, holding her left shoulder with her right hand. Her shoulder burned with an intensity that she’d never encountered before. Sensing beads of sweat instantly materializing on her face and arms, she instantly felt breathless. As tears streamed down her face, she looked up at Dave and Mattie, with grieving eyes. Her grief was for her family that she knew that she would never see again. Mattie would shoot her on this lawn, before she became like the ones that bit her.

  “Please Dave, promise you’ll find Kate and make sure her and my dad make it through this, and get the ladies to them?” She sobbed, eyeing Mattie’s gun, aimed her way.

  She thought of her options. There were none. She knew that Mattie wanted nothing to do with anyone who had been bitten, he made that clear last night. Could she blame him? She wanted nothing to do with anyone who had a bite. She had no vehicle in which to leave, no way of contacting anyone. Now, she was infected. Before long she would die and become one of them, one of the…not quite dead. Not living, but not at peace. Even if she could somehow make it out of here, where would she go? To find her dad and Kate, to risk them becoming infected at her hand? Never.

  “I will,” Dave whispered. His face contorted as his eyes told the real story of his heartache.

  “Go ahead Mattie. Just do it,” she bawled in frustration.

  Roxy held her wound tightly, feeling the warm steady flow of blood trickle through her fingertips. Sobbing and sniffling uncontrollably, it felt as if all of the oxygen and been sucked out of her lungs. Believing that her entire world was crashing down all around her, she realized that her life would be extinguished—in only seconds. Everything she wanted to do with her life, all her plans, things she’d left unfinished, words she’d left unsaid, didn’t matter anymore. She would be gone soon—just like her mother. While the pain of losing her mother had been tremendous, the planet continued to rotate, the sun and moon still made their appearances, and life went on without her mom. And now it would go on without her

  Mattie stood heavy footed, aiming the gun at Roxy’s face. Furrowing his brow, looking fiercely at her, he exhaled heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. Ever since this shit started with the weirdoes, Mattie couldn’t wait to do his part in exterminating the infected vermin. While he hadn’t even hesitated at taking down the two that had bolted out from the backyard, hot on Edgar’s heels, this couldn’t compare. He felt fond of Roxy. She’s a nice young lady and I’m glad that she and Dave broke into my shop. Having them stay over and keep me company was a breath of fresh air last night. She doesn’t deserve this…How can I just shoot this girl?

  After pausing for a moment and shaking his head, his eyes focused back on her. I have to, she’s gonna turn into one of them. With his finger on the trigger, he began to squeeze, when Dave stepped in front of the gun.

  “Dave! What the heck? I was pulling the trigger. Outta the way,” Mattie released his squeeze, without moving the gun.

  “Mattie, you can’t kill her,” Dave’s voice remained low and monotone.

  “What’d you mean? You know what’s gonna happen. Even she understands,” Mattie said urgently.

  “Listen, if you kill her now, you are going to have to live with the fact that you killed an injured girl. If we wait until after she turns, then you’d be killing a monster. Wouldn’t that be easier to live with?” Dave asked.

  “Yeah, it would be easier to live with—so long as she hasn’t already bitten me or somebody else. Cause then it ain’t anything I’d be livin’ with for long,” Mattie said impatiently.

  “Then let me do it. I can take her into the garage or something and wait for her to turn. Once she does, I’ll finish her off myself, just the two of us across the room from each other. That way the risk is minimal. I can’t let it go down like this, not while she’s still…her,” Dave shook his head.

  Mattie thought about Dave’s words. He was right. It was different with the two on the lawn; there was no wasted time because they were already monsters. Roxy is still herself right now. If we’re careful ‘bout it, we can wait and do what needs to be done at the right time.

  With a heavy sigh, Mattie lowered the gun and returned it to his waistband. He nodded his head and started walking toward the front door of the house. Dave helped Roxy up, and they followed Mattie closely. On the front porch, his sister Lynn and her real-winner-of-a-fiancé Edgar, eyed them carefully as they approached.

  Furious, Mattie shot a hostile stare at Edgar as he approached the porch. He walked up to them and without warning, punched the Edgar in the cheek, just under the eye.

  “What is wrong with you? You coward! I saw what you did Edgar. You had plenty of room to get by us. You shoved her toward them to give you more time to escape. It’s you, I should be shooting!” Mattie pulled out his gun and aimed it at Edgar, who curled up on the ground, holding his jaw.

  Mattie’s face and throat felt on fire, as animosity pulsed through his veins. His self-control hung on by a thread and that thread had begun to fray.

  “No!” Lynn cried, throwing herself over Edgar.

  “Mattie, I no mean to push her,” Edgar spoke in broken English and beer saturated breath. “I try to get away.”

  Mattie gritted his teeth beneath his tightly closed lips. He exhaled exhaustedly, shaking his head in disbelief. He made a fist with his left hand and tapped it on his chin. This piece of dirt’s not
worth it. Surrendering his rage, he put the gun in his pocket.

  “Stay away from me Edgar, or I swear to God, I’ll put a bullet in your eye,” Mattie looked furiously at Lynn, shaking his head. “Dave, get the ladies and Roxy’s duffle. They’re coming in with Roxy.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Seated in his office, James studied the town below from the extravagant glass wall behind his desk. He has always loved the view from his office. The coastline can be seen on both sides of town for about a mile. Two seas of lush green tree tops are found from this view, just two of the many parks that are situated in the coastal town he had called home for the last seventeen years. Just beyond Angora is the downtown area. The buildings in the historical district have never restored. James treasured the old-time feeling to them. While he appreciated technology and sleek, modern design, there had always been something about those antique buildings that had a special place in his heart. Beyond the downtown area, there are a few office buildings and many homes sprawled out across the land. It’s a hodge-podge of old buildings, newer ones and freshly built structures. But of all the buildings old and new, Angora is the tallest, and James’ office is on the top floor. Though he would never say it aloud, it made him feel superior to the other businessmen in the community, having the most substantial and lucrative company in the county.

  This view ordinarily gave him a feeling of confidence and tranquility, but it simply did not have the same appeal today. After hearing siren after siren last night, police, ambulance and fire trucks had been scattered out in different directions of the downtown and midtown areas. Now, there were no more sirens, as James feared the worst for the meager emergency forces of Port Steward. Across the horizon, there were too many clouds of smoke lingering in the skyline to count. The serum had produced all of this. Those four little shots created this entire panorama view before him. I have this under control.

  He pressed the Reception button on his phone. “Amy, I need you to arrange a helicopter evacuation of the faculty,” James said, opening his date book.

  “Yes sir, effective immediately?” She asked.

  “Yes, without delay. Consult the standard operating procedure in the operations binder on the bookshelf. It contains all the necessary details. I am charging you with this responsibility—own it. I am available for consulting only. If you have questions, review the manual first, consult me secondary. You need to keep me in the loop if there are any hiccups along the way. This operation must be swift and efficient.”

  “I’m on it sir,” she replied.

  He pressed the release button on the phone. Looking at a number written in his datebook, James dialed it.

  “Colonel Kennedy Channing,” the voice answered.

  “Colonel, James Meadows here, of Angora Laboratories,” James announced.

  “James, what can I do for you? My hands are pretty full at the moment,” Colonel stressed.

  “Then I won’t monopolized too much of your time. I just wanted to confirm the deadline for our helicopter evacuation,” James said.

  “Just as long as you keep your gates sealed as discussed, you have until twenty-three hundred hours. We have a unit set up in Blue Falls ready to examine all staff upon arrival. Do note, that unless we are able to bring order to Port Steward by that time, the city will be sterilized at midnight tonight,” he said.

  “Do you think you may have it under control by then?” James asked in a fatherly voice.

  “Hell no! It’s chaos out here. Our men are having a hard enough time securing the perimeter, let alone trying to maintain any kind of order. If it’s not the diseased, then it’s the looters, or the rioters. I’ve just ordered the closure of the border which means we will be implementing a full quarantine. No one else in or out, we just don’t have the manpower or the medical staff to clear anymore civilians. If you ask me, Port Steward is spent. But we have our orders and midnight is the magic number,” Colonel replied.

  Having spent nine of the last eleven years as a special consultant for the United States Department of Defense regarding biogenetics, James was well versed in an assortment of military protocols. While a city-wide quarantine was quite new to him, he felt confident that it would be like most anything these days—being all about connections. Who you are and who you knew far outweighed the rights of the many. This world is—as it has always been, about money and power. James thought about the ignorant people that he encountered almost daily, that believed love and family is the key to happiness. Please, the key to happiness is getting what you want and the way to do that is through money and power. How could anyone who lives a life of squalor and poverty achieve any level of happiness? Revolted by the thought, James felt no remorse for those who would not be permitted to leave The Port—their troubles would soon be over. All that really mattered to him was the colonel’s assurance that he and his faculty would be permitted to leave.

  “Do you know what method will be used?” James probed.

  “Listen James, I am doing you a solid by letting you evac your people. Let’s not push it, alright. You just get yourself, and your people out by eleven, or you’ll get to see the method firsthand.”

  “I understand. Eleven o’clock, we’ll be gone hours before that. Thank you,” James hung up.

  Looking in his datebook, he scribbled 11pm in his book for today’s date, and underlined it three times. Not bad, he thought, dropping the pen on the adjacent page.

  Beneath the pen, written on yesterday’s date, a note had been written, 4:15pm—Dr. Edward Stanton’s Retirement Party.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  The walk down the hallway of Lynn’s house seemed endless, yet it remained such a short distance. Roxy held her wound tightly. Her bite was at the halfway point from her neck to her shoulder on the back side. The hallway walls were wallpapered in an awful light blue and red design, faded with time and covered with a thick layer of nicotine. Lynn’s house reeked of cigarette smoke. The smoky scent lingered in the air as if suspended mid-air by the overwhelming heat contained within the home, leaving the air with a sticky feel to it. Roxy could sense Lynn’s eyes all over her and the ladies as they walked through the stifling house. Each time Roxy looked in Lynn’s direction, Lynn would deliver look of repulsion.

  “How long have you lived here?” Roxy tried being friendly, turning back toward Lynn with a gracious smile.

  “Ten years,” Lynn said abruptly.

  Yeah, and probably smoked about a pack a day, every day of the ten years. Ordinarily, Roxy would have regretted that pessimistic thought immediately, but she felt different now, as if something had changed her. She knew that she would die soon and that Dave would take care of the rest. But it wasn’t as if she were biting crazy right now. While she understood Lynn’s hostility, she still resented it. As they approached the door to the spare bedroom, Roxy noticed the master bedroom across the hall.

  Mattie opened the door for her, a regretful look on his face. Their eyes met just for a moment, before Mattie’s eyes shifted downward. Roxy walked through the door without uttering a word, her dogs trailing just behind. Dave shook Mattie’s hand in the doorway, while clutching Roxy’s duffle bag in the other hand.

  “Thanks Mattie, I appreciate it. I’ll make sure that it’s all taken care of so that she doesn’t hurt anyone in this house,” Dave whispered. He accepted a first aid kit and a handgun from Mattie, tucking the gun in his waistband at the arch of his back.

  “Here are some trash bags. Maybe you can lay these out on the floor, so you don’t make a mess of the place when you shoot her,” Lynn said crudely putting a roll of black garbage bags in Dave’s hand.

  “Lynn! Get out into the front room for Christ’s sake! You’re a cold hearted woman,” Mattie said, flashing a look of apology as he closed Dave inside the room.

  Roxy looked out the curtain-less, water stained window. A bluebird bathed in a swooshing hose sprinkler on the neighboring lawn. The sprinkler seemed incredibly loud, yet it laid on the grass about thirty feet
away or so. This house must be poorly insulated. How do they even sleep at night, when you can hear everything outside? It looked like a perfect morning just beyond the boundaries of her prison. That’s when it really hit home for her—that she stood in a prison. This room would be the last place that she would ever go. The tacky wallpaper and shag carpet, the stained quilt on the bed, these would be the last things that she would see before she died.

  “Roxy, come here and let me bandage your shoulder,” Dave said, jolting her out of her trance of self-pity.

  “Do you think that’s such a great idea?” Roxy turned and faced him, “I don’t want you to get infected.”

  “Well, as long as you promise not to bite, I think I should be okay,” he smiled.

  “I promise.”

  Roxy thought again at what a handsome smile Dave had. His eyes twinkled, while his whole face lit up as he smiled. She plopped down on the floor, sitting cross legged with her back to him. She recoiled in pain as she pulled the shoulder strap of her tank top off her shoulder. The ladies excitedly pranced around her, now that she had come down to their level. After all of thirty seconds, they calmed down, settling on the carpet in front of her.

  Dave sat in one of two run-down chairs that were next to a small, round, wooden table—a few feet from the door. Pulling out gauze pads and waterproof tape from the first aid kit, he set them on the table. Passing her a few moist towelettes, to wipe her bloody hands, he put on a pair of latex gloves and wiped Roxy’s shoulder with a peroxide soaked towelette. She arched her back, squeezing her shoulder blades together as the wound sizzled in pain.

  “I have to clean it first,” he said tossing the towelette in the wastebasket beside the table.

  “I know,” she said through tightly closed lips, as she wiped her hands and fingers clean. “Before you wrap it up, is there a mirror? I want to see how bad it is.”

  “No, there isn’t a mirror. Roxy it’s really not that bad. You don’t need to see it,” Dave tore off a piece of tape.