Sealed In

by Druga, Jacqueline

  Day 97 of the virus – 55% infected

  64 days until I am forced to see what lies above.

  Time Stamp – 10

  Andy’s Journal

  April 3rd

  The United States sits at the highest infection rate. Russia is rapidly catching up. We never heard anything from them regarding a vaccine. China, however, seems to have pulled through. From their underground ‘doomsday’ lab, they seem to have cracked the code. They believe they have what they are calling the morning after vaccine. It works before exposure and within twenty-four hours of exposure. They started testing.

  Phone contact isn’t guaranteed; Chad is hoping for results soon. Chad could create the vaccine and test it down here, but even if it worked, there was no way to produce more than a hundred doses here in the facility.

  A hundred doses was really nothing.

  China and India were still on the low end of the infection rate. They told Chad that if the vaccine proved successful, they would inoculate all those within the facility and go topside by overriding the seal. China could do that. We could not.

  Even if we could, the United States didn’t have the resources or the bodies to mass produce the serum. We lost all power two days ago. While we still had generators, the rest of the US lives in the dark.

  China’s plan was to mass-produce the serum with help from India and Japan. However, best-case scenario was three months, realistically six.

  A little too late for this side of the world.

  Day 108 of the virus – 68% infected.

  53 days left until the seal is broken.

  Time Stamp – 11

  Andy’s Journal

  April 30th

  It took Chad Walker nearly two weeks to copy the serum successfully. He refused to believe, despite what the Chinese had told him, that it worked, and then he ran simple lab tests. It looked promising.

  China had informed him they had already moved into mass production.

  They had power, they had news, and we had dark.

  Five days ago, four people volunteered to be test subjects. Two would get the vaccine before exposure, two after.

  Del was one of those people. I was so angry. He and I had just actually started to become friends, and he did that.

  It angered me that his reasoning was weak. He owed it to nobody to be a guinea pig, but he did anyhow.

  I spent the days watching the surveillance. Everybody did at one time or another. Eight monitors and someone always caught something.

  At first, there were many people coming in and out of the CDC. They weren’t workers. Somewhere in everything that happened, Chad and Edward failed to tell us the CDC closed down. We learned that when we saw the broken glass.

  People were desperate, looking for things.

  Fires burned; we could see them better at night.

  Every once in a while, someone would point out movement.

  Was that a person? I think so, yes.

  Del survived the testing. The serum worked both as a vaccine and as a morning-after treatment. It was a shallow victory, but Edward was happy. He spoke to his wife and believed it was the last time he’d speak to her until he went to their safe house.

  Her generator power was fading and the phones would be out of commission.

  They were still healthy, and Edward wanted to deliver the vaccine himself.

  The woman that cooks our meals gave a lot of us haircuts. It passed the time and prepped us for the world in our final days in the facility.

  Chad began working on producing doses of the serum. He’d give it to everyone in the shelter and extra to those who needed to take it to family members they knew were alive.

  Last, we spoke to China; they insisted they would drop vaccines once they provided for their own.

  Would it even matter?

  Day 135 of the virus – 72% infected.

  26 days to go.

  Time Stamp – 12

  Andy’s Journal

  May 24th

  This is my last entry in the journal. I am now packing what few things I have in a survivor backpack to take with me on my journey.

  I have no idea how Del and I will get to Montana, but we will. We will.

  Edward will find his wife, and Chad said he was confident his wife went into their home’s safe room. He designed it for such an event. It was the first he spoke of his wife the entire time here, at least to me.

  There is nothing left up there, at least in Atlanta. The last movement we saw on the street was ten days ago.

  We watch. Every day, diligently, we watch for any speck of movement. Even a rat. Nothing. I wonder what waits for us above. It has been so long since I saw the sun, felt the warmth. It was snowing when I came down here.

  We will emerge into a completely dead world. Will it be violent? Will those who survived this plague of horror be shells of human beings caring less for each other, or did they band together as survivors, making communities?

  Did the Vice President come out of hiding, rally the troops, and start things? We don’t know. We lost all ability to communicate with anyone.

  We may have lights, but we are in the dark.

  The doses are done, sealed, and packed. But it doesn’t matter. Maybe it does, just as a safeguard against future infections.

  But when the timer counts down and the door opens, we will walk into a world that is safe from infection. Not because the infection was cured, but because every person that was to get sick … got sick. Every person that was to die has died.

  There are no more hosts to spread the virus.

  God help us all, and I pray, I just pray all is not lost.

  Day 159 of the virus – we stopped keeping track of the infected.

  Two more days left.

  THE EMERGING

  Chapter Sixteen

  May 26th

  Like schoolchildren waiting for recess, they lined up in front of the only exit door that was viable. The clock counted down.

  Edward seemed the most enthusiastic, waiting to go to find his family. It was a six-hour drive that he hoped to begin right away. He had to go first; he had gasoline stored at the house.

  If, of course, the house was still there.

  Andy stood with Del and carried a small pack over his shoulder. It was from Chad.

  “There are sixty more days of the medication in there,” Chad told Andy. “After that I can’t guarantee if the stutter will come back or if you’ll be able to get more. Perhaps you’ll be lucky and find some marijuana.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Andy replied. “I’ll deal.” He was excited. His stomach twitched in hopefulness and fear, and then the counter reached zero.

  The buzz went through him like an electric shock. There was a hiss as Edward reached for the door. It opened.

  The journey topside was no less than eighteen flights of stairs, a marathon of exercise Del and Andy were more than ready for.

  The others were not. They stumbled and stopped, rested, then moved. Andy and Del ended up leading the way. The staircase led to the far end of the employee-parking garage. That was where Edward hoped the car would be, a car left there by Martha.

  Andy wasn’t even winded when he reached the top, Del right at his side. He looked over the banister and hollered down. “I’m gonna go check it out. Stay put. We just don’t know.” He then turned to Del and told him to hang tight, and Andy alone opened that final door.

  There was a spring smell to the air, and it wasn’t what Andy expected. He prepared for a raw smell, death, maybe even burning. But nothing.

  The dead had passed on long enough beforehand that they left no smell.

  Dust was thick on the remaining cars in the lot. He ran his fingers across them as he raced toward the sunlit entrance of the garage.

  Already, before he even arrived, the daylight hurt his eyes. He took a few steps, paused, moved, and paused again.

  Inching his way into the sun, Andy let his eyes adjust. They watered and burned; soon the blurry vision
left, and he stepped into the street.

  It wasn’t a wise move because Andy didn’t know what awaited them.

  Nothing.

  Empty streets, quiet like he had never experienced. Not a bird, animal … nothing.

  “Hello!” he called out loudly.

  His voice echoed back.

  He tried again. “Hello!”

  Not a roll of a can, a scuffle of movement, only silence. The sky was blue, the early morning sun was bright, and the temperature warm. Andy went back to the garage.

  It was time to tell the others they could come out; there was no danger because there was nothing.

  <><><><>

  Edward kept the battery as charged as he could in the facility and was able to start the car with ease. After it charged some, he jump-started other cars. They were the first to pull out of the garage. Andy drove, because Edward’s eyes were having trouble adjusting.

  Andy and Del said their goodbyes to Chad, and promised to return or find a way to contact him.

  Chad had no idea where he’d end up, but he said he’d leave word at his home, and gave Andy and Del the address.

  Edward didn’t want to waste the gas to drive Andy and Del to the outskirts of Atlanta. They would try to find a vehicle outside of town; if unable to do so, they’d walk.

  Andy was certain they’d find transportation eventually. Many people died. Many cars were left and gas buried in the ground at defunct fueling stations.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to Virginia with me?” Edward asked. “It’s wonderful property.”

  Andy shook his head. “No, I have to go to Lincoln. I left something there I have to get.”

  “Nothing is left,” Edward told him.

  “I’m certain that this is left,” Andy said.

  “Del?” Edward asked.

  “I go where he goes. As much as we hated each other, he’s all I got.”

  Edward nodded, and then he wished them good luck.

  Andy and Del began their journey. They had food and water and would ration as best as they could. They walked all morning and into the afternoon.

  Somewhere around three, a pickup truck stopped and asked them if they needed a ride. It was the survivor Andy and Del had seen since they left the facility!

  When the older man asked where they were going, he laughed at the response of Montana.

  He told Andy and Del he would take them as far as Alexandria, Virginia, but that was where he stopped.

  They accepted and got in the truck.

  Their first run-in with a survivor was good, and Andy hoped it was an informative trip.

  <><><><>

  Chad was quiet on the ride to his house. Carl, who lived in an apartment building nearby, drove Chad to his home.

  Atlanta’s downtown was desolate, but it wasn’t completely devoid of people. They saw a few, but not many as they left the confines of the city.

  Chad’s neighborhood was upscale, and he knew as soon as he turned onto his street that looters had already hit the neighborhood.

  Houses were burned, windows broken, belongings strewn in the street.

  Chad’s house was not immune. His front door was open, his couch on the front lawn.

  “Maybe I should go in with you,” Carl said.

  “No, wait here. Can you?” Chad asked. “I want to check the safe room.”

  Carl nodded.

  “Hopefully, if she isn’t there, she left a note or something.” Chad stepped from the car and walked the path to his home.

  It had been vandalized, pictures knocked from the wall, papers everywhere. At first glance, he could see that every drawer was open. They came for food. Chad walked up the stairs.

  There was an odd smell to his house. Musty, sour, but it wasn’t a fresh smell. Chad’s gut instinct told him that something was wrong.

  The safe room was located at the back of the master bedroom closet, but Chad didn’t need to go into the safe room to find Belinda.

  She didn’t go into the safe room at all.

  Her body was so decomposed that it was evident she had been dead for months. It also was clear she didn’t die of the plague. A portion of her head was missing. A huge brown stain of blood formed a halo around the saturated pillow, and the gun was still in her hand.

  She had taken her own life.

  He had some sense of sadness, but a part of him knew. When he hadn’t spoken to her and she hadn’t answered the phone, he knew, even though he’d hoped she had gone into the safe room.

  Chad covered her, took a moment, and said goodbye. He then gathered a few pictures from the home, some clothes, and he left.

  <><><><>

  Rollin, Virginia

  Edward used the last five-gallon can of gas just before he turned up the mountain road. That was it; that was all he had. The only redeeming feature was the small town ten miles before. He saw a few people there and a sign that said ‘gas for food’.

  Edward had that and something more valuable. The cure.

  The plan was his wife and children, along with Edward’s mother, would go to the house, a cottage deep in the hills and stocked with a year’s supply of food and well water.

  It was far enough away from civilization that as long as his wife and children left before exposure and stayed away, they would be safe.

  He would be lying to himself if he thought for sure everything was fine. Truth was, Edward was scared. Scared to death that he’d arrive and find his entire family dead.

  The road was overgrown, and the last mile was quiet.

  He pulled through the open gate and saw the SUV parked in front of the house. It was ‘weather’ dirty, and weeds grew up almost to the tires. The car hadn’t been moved or touched.

  The curtains were drawn; there were no signs of life.

  It was a beautiful day; surely the children would be out playing.

  Edward turned off the car and paused for a moment. He prayed and then gathered the courage to go to the house. The step creaked as he placed his foot on it. He didn’t want to call out because he didn’t want silence to be the answer.

  Edward reached for the door. Before he even touched the knob, the door opened and his wife Donna cried out.

  He couldn’t take it all in as his children cried out, “Daddy,” and grabbed on to his legs as he grabbed his wife.

  He didn’t think beyond that moment. Edward hadn’t a clue what the next step would be. He’d think about it... later. For that moment, he was happy. His family was alive, and, well, that was all that mattered to Edward.

  <><><><>

  Alexandria, VA

  The pickup truck driver was a nice enough fellow. More than being nice, he was informative to Andy and Del on the five-hour trip.

  His name was Ben, and he was from Sarasota, Florida, one of the last places in the United States to be hit with the Black Hartworth, the name they gave to the germ that swept the country and eventually the world.

  Andy loved the information Ben provided. Ben lost his entire family, except an uncle, in the Black Hartworth. He said people fled the West Coast and unfortunately brought the virus, and then they came south. They lost the news, then the internet, then the power. Radio was still operational two hours a day through FEMA broadcasting networks.

  Even though Andy and Del had radio in the facility, being so far underground made it worthless. So no one in the CDC facility heard the FEMA broadcast.

  News came that China had a cure, but it was going to take months.

  “Gotta understand,” Ben told them, “This China cure thing came at the end, when people were desperate and worn. That’s when the Atlanta riot began. People stormed the CDC, and then things kind of just … fizzled.”

  Ben explained that the United States, like every other country, lost its sustainability and structure. Forget financial. That all went to the wayside. Everyone concentrated on rebuilding, sustaining life, and then reconnecting.

  According to now-President Wallace, the former Vice President, o
rder of importance was food and water, shelter, healthcare, power, communications, security, and finances.

  The restructuring of sustainability was set to begin on June 1.

  There were nine government contract hubs. People were urged to register for work. They’d be fed, transported, and cared for in exchange for useful skills.

  Ben worked for the power company for eight years before the virus hit. He got the power back up in Sarasota and was certain that was where his skills would be needed.

  When they pulled into Alexandria, there were droves of people, men and women, carrying belongings, standing in line.

  “This is insane,” Del said. “I did not expect this many people.”

  “This is just one of the sign-up places. People need food. This country needs farmers, teachers, and workers. You name it, the sustainability project will do it. We hope. At the very least it’ll bring people together.”

  Andy gave a nod of his head. “I didn’t expect to see soldiers.”

  “A lot went into the safe location with the Vice President,” Ben replied. “They divided them between hubs. They still need people to patrol streets. That’s on the list as well. You two ought to join.”

  Andy nodded. “I will, but I have to get back to Montana first.”

  Ben laughed. “Here I thought that was a joke. Even though there is gas in the reserves, it’s rationed. You can catch a ride to the next hub. Maybe there you can request gas to go to the hub farthest west.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. Del?” Andy called his attention.

  “All these people. Somehow I didn’t think this many would survive.”

  Ben stated, “They estimate a little under twenty percent. But still, twenty percent, that’s seventy million people. That’s as many people as there were in 1880. At least the radio said.”

  Ben pulled over and parked. He wanted to get his place in line, and Andy and Del had to part ways.