Independence Day Plague

by Carla Lee Suson

  INDEPENDENCE DAY

  PLAGUE

  A Novel

  by

  Carla Lee Suson

  Fireside Publications

  Lady Lake, Florida

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidences are either, the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Published by:

  Fireside Publications

  1004 San Felipe Lane

  Lady Lake, Florida 32159

  www.firesidepubs.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  Copyright © December 2009 by Carla Lee Suson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, scanned, photocopied or distributed in any printed, or electronic, form without written permission of the author.

  First Edition: December 2009

  ISBN: 978-1-935517-05-4

  This book is dedicated to:

  My husband

  who never gave up on my writing even when I did,

  My parents who gave me a love of great stories and

  My children who tried to get me arrested while helping me research this book.

  Better luck next time, kids.

  Chapter 1

  May 21, 2026

  “Here’s to the death of Bio-Lab 4.” Mitchell lifted his glass in mock salute. “It just hit me that this is quite probably the last time we will ever be together again. We’re all listed as officially dead to the world, deceased as of tomorrow.” He scanned the room filled with tuxedoed men and finely dressed women. “Most of us have worked together for more than fifteen years. Yet tomorrow, we don’t exist anymore and all of this,” he waved a hand vaguely around the hall, “this falls into obscure history.”

  “You’re fucking morbid today.” Clark’s face was flushed red and his breath was a haze of Jim Beams. “Got your new name yet?” He snorted, “Those asshole government types don’t care about us. They’re gonna stick us with some kind of asshole name and asshole job where we’ll rot to death.”

  James Mitchell smiled down into his own champagne cocktail. “I think you’re the only one worried about names. What I don't care for is the name for our work. Doctor or veterinarian sounds better than the Deathmaker. I’m actually glad we’re moving into some more positive work. I’m tired of every experiment being a potential life or death experience.”

  “The outside world ain’t that pretty.” Clark growled. “Look at the news, man. Kids are wiring their brains up on the new drugs. They flip out, go postal and shoot everyone. Suicides are past five digits in the corporate world. Join the stressed-out freaks or the Greenies, eating rabbit food and bitching about how technology ruins everything. Not much choice either way.” He swallowed another mouthful. “Glad to get out of fucking cold North Dakota though.”

  The news to close down Bio Lab-4 had been unexpected and with extremely short notice. Tonight’s party acted as the last hurrah for friends that lived, worked, and cared for each other in the isolated community. The smiling people mingled in and out of groups, glasses in hands. The room buzzed with tension about the closure. Colonel Forester had sent emails, assuring everyone that the plan included relocating them back into the mainstream society. That meant new names and new identities.

  Mitchell looked out of the glass windows that filled the back walls of the cafeteria. The building was one of the last ones by the back barbed-wire topped fence. The land beyond was gently rolling prairie, now filled with brown, dead grass. The sun sat low in the horizon, giving off brilliant reds and yellows and casting red and pink hues across the skins of those nearest the wall.

  Forester promised new names and jobs for everyone but the world had changed in twenty-three years. Mitchell knew he was a good vaccine man, in fact, probably the best one in the country although no one outside BL-4 knew that. Even after they left, he'd remain obscure. No one worked at other research centers after leaving the bio-labs.

  “Yep, one week from now, nothing will be left here except empty houses. I wonder what the Company will do with the base.” Mitchell tried to put a cheery note into his voice.

  Clark slurred, “The ‘Company?’ Geez, Jim I thought you’d moved past that crap. Little shop of horrors is pretty appropriate.” He took another long drink of his cocktail.

  James replied, “Katie calls it the bug factory, which is accurate too, I guess.” He sighed and watched the bubbles in his glass. Clark worked at BL-4 for the last thirteen years, but the two men never formed a strong friendship. “Why all the heavy drinking?”

  “Oh shit, not much. Just that my career is completely fucking over and I’m only thirty-five. Hell, you have Caroline and Katie. I haven’t got anyone. So the ‘Company,’ as you so delicately put it, is thrusting me into the world, nameless, careerless and just about as naked as the day I was born.”

  Mitchell sighed, “They'll find good positions for all of us. It's hard shutting everything down though. Caroline spent the last week and a half systematically destroying all the animals and burning the bodies whether they’ve been exposed or not.”

  “Jeez, that’s a shitty job!”

  “Yeah, she’s comes home depressed every night.”

  Raymond Geller, head of gene mapping, joined the small group. His black suit and tie offset the old-fashioned crisp white shirt and the gray in his hair. He held a plate heaped with cheese squares and fruit chunk appetizers with his right hand and a little girl’s hand with his left. The six-year-old stared at Mitchell with large brown eyes as she nibbled on a strawberry. Her face, normally pink and smiling, looked feverish. Mitchell stared at her as Geller talked, “You know the old nuke stockpiles are still in place, rotting in their cradles but ready to fire at a moment’s notice.”

  “Your point being?” Clark sneered.

  “The only reason we quit making better nukes is because we built a better weapon. Chemicals and biologicals take out people without large-scale damage. Bomb a city, wait for them to die, and then move your immunized people in. You’re up and running in no time.”

  The three men turned towards the sound outside the window. A black car drove up and parked in the commander's space in front of the cafeteria. Three men got out of the car, full dress uniforms including gloves and ceremonial swords.

  "Here comes the fucking bossman," Clark mumbled. He turned back towards Geller “So why are we shutting down if the world still needs weapons?”

  Geller gave his daughter an apple slice in response to her tugging on his pants. “I don’t know. We’re the last one though. The first Bio Lab disappeared off the hypernet grid eight years ago.”

  Mitchell watched Geller’s hands. Purplish bruising started appearing on the back and spread up the fingers. His heartbeat sped up. “Geller, what’s happening?”

  The man continued addressing Clark. “Did you hear the news last night? China's announced that it plans on shooting down foreign satellites in its airspace in ten days.”

  “Oh shit, not the Chinese again!” Clark swallowed the last of his drink. “It’s always you and the damn Chinese. Just enjoy the party, man. Relax, grab a drink, and ponder your next life.” Clark staggered off towards the appetizer table.

  Geller frowned, watching Clark weave between the party guests. “Sticking our heads in a vat of alcohol works for some but I’d rather keep my wits about me.”

  “Maybe it’s what he needs to get through this.” The voice was feminine and sultry. The men turned to the tall, blond woman in the royal blue satin dress. The dress hung in long A-line drape with a deep neckline set off with small white stones. She smiled and her honey bro
wn eyes glowed with laughter. “Sorry, but the shutdown seems to be what everyone is talking about.”

  Mitchell put an arm around her waist, “Hello dear.”

  “Good evening, Caroline. You look very lovely tonight.” Geller said smiling back. For a moment dark lines appeared under his eyes and his face looked thinner then the image faded again.

  “Thank you.” She smiled down at the pink and white lace ruffled girl, “Hi, Anita.”

  Mouth full of cheese squares, the child wiggled upright fingers in response before grabbing another fruit slice off Geller’s plate. Caroline turned to Mitchell, “Clark is in rare rancid form tonight.”

  He looked at her smooth face. She smiled back and, as he watched, the capillaries in her eyes swelled and burst, making her pupils swim in a sea of red. “Caroline, your eyes!”

  Caroline turned away as if he hadn’t spoken. “Ray, Jim’s told me about some of your theories but I agree with him. After the outbreak in North Korea, people know how uncontrollable biowarfare is. What, about 6,000 people died in the North Korean lab leak? The UN hasn't repealed the travel ban yet. It’s time man evolved past his destructive nature.”

  Geller looked bemused, “I didn’t know our discussions went beyond the door.” Geller was Mitchell’s immediate boss and good friend. They often talked while waiting on experiments.

  “Only to Caroline, no one else,” Mitchell replied. He looked at her again. She returned his gaze with a questioning one, eyes bright and clear. He placed his drink on a passing tray and wiped a hand across his eyes. Despite the coolness of the room, he felt damp with sweat. “I think that’s enough drink.”

  “Caroline, I couldn’t agree with you more. Man must evolve.” Geller said, “But evolution can’t be forced. Unfortunately, man is a predator and killing always will be the thing he’s best at. The Chinese threat is the best example of that. As integrated as communications are today, they know that we can’t shift our satellites out of their territory. The skies practically overflow with hundreds of satellites. They spy on us; we spy on them. It is saber rattling and it’s going to get louder. We know they’re doing chemo/bio warfare preparations. If we don’t have the vaccines ready, America will be at a tremendous disadvantage.”

  “And you consider China a national threat?” Caroline continued.

  “One of several. Consider this. From 2006 to 2010, China exported several processed materials, chemicals and products that were defective and, in some cases, deadly. Once discovered, the items were quickly removed from the market and apologies issued. What if someone in the Chinese government used the incident to discover weaknesses in our inspection and response systems? Now it’s a build-up of arms and an argument of what constituted legal limits in the skies. Shooting down satellites will destroy our communication, Internet and hypernet systems.”

  It must be tiredness and drink, Mitchell thought. He looked around the room again. The world seemed to slow down and tilt at a crazy angle. Forester and his men entered the room and went straight to their seats. His stomach lurched with nausea. The light from the deep red sun intensified and filled the room with bloody looking light. Suddenly it felt hard to breathe.

  “Why do you think we’re shutting down?” Caroline spoke again.

  Geller leaned closer, his voice dropped to a conspiring whisper. “Somehow we’ve become an embarrassment or something has made us obsolete. For the bases to stay secret, we must disappear.”

  Security at the Bio Labs existed at the highest conceivable levels. Not one of the research members or their families existed to the outer world except for the most minor of paperwork such as bankcards or drivers’ licenses. The military personnel provided the usual forms of red tape through military channels.

  The research at the base was cutting-edge science but no one presented talks at conferences or published papers. Computer communications were limited and always monitored. No bloggers, website diarists, or even private websites were allowed for the people living at the lab. Whenever anyone left the premises for a conference or went on vacation, they had to apply for permission. After being carefully screened, they were then shadowed the entire time. Eventually, it became easier not to leave at all.

  Mitchell shifted back to his wife. "We need to leave. The drink—there's something wrong with the drink."

  “Aren’t you being a little paranoid?” Oblivious of his words, Caroline continued talking to Geller. “It’s not like they’re going to line up four hundred-fifty people against the wall and shoot them. People will notice us being gone.”

  “Will they?” Geller replied. “How many people do you call or write to on the outside? How many extended family members really know anything about your last few weeks or even years? How long would it take before someone realized you were missing? A few months or even a few years?”

  "Ray—" Mitchell stepped forward, head aching with each movement.

  Geller smiled, “Sorry Caroline, just my ranting. No, they'll distribute us amongst the teeming masses in the big cities. But we'll probably never see each other again.” Geller nibbled on a cheese square.

  “Have you gotten your new assignment yet?” Caroline asked.

  “No, not yet. You?”

  “We’ve asked for a small town veterinary practice that I can take over.” Caroline replied.

  The catering staff banged through the swinging kitchen doors flourishing loaded trays. The smell of roast beef and chicken rose and mingled with the other delicious odors from the kitchen. The caterers were Army, flown in with all their supplies for the occasion. Caroline gently pulled Mitchell towards their seats. He followed, unresisting with tears flowing down his cheeks. “Guess we’d best take our seats," she said.

  Everyone shuffled and wound their way towards their assigned seats with a scuffing of chairs and clinking of glasses. As waiters moved between the tables with pitchers of tea and water, an Army colonel dressed in formal uniform gave a short sentimental speech. Mitchell knew Col. Forester on sight. The man was always cool and distant so the sentimentality he displayed now seemed artificial. Whenever the colonel appeared, it was to gather progress reports or to whip the workers into a new course of action. Tonight, he looked tense and paler than usual. He finished the speech with an apology for rushing off. Mitchell heard Clark mutter from a nearby table. “Too good to eat with the grunts.”

  The three men filed out of the large hall just as waiters entered and began bringing plates to each table.

  Ray Geller’s five kids, ranging from three to eleven, sat quietly at their family table in a rare act of good behavior. Mitchell grinned at the youngest one, Anita who Katie often babysat. She returned a shy smile; her cheeks now looked sunburned red. He stared as pink, blood-mixed tears trickled down in furrows, dripping onto the white ruffles on her dress.

  Mitchell gasped. A hand tugged on his gray jacket as Katie whispered, “Dad, are you okay?” He turned towards his sixteen-year-old daughter and watched as her honey colored hair turned dull and limp. He grasped her hand on his sleeve. It felt hot and tiny vessels broke under his hands, darkening her skin from red to deep purple. A dull roar filled his ears as he looked at her. Blood flowed slowly from her nose and leaked from the edges of her eyes. “Daddy?” she whispered as tiny capillaries in her skin broke one by one and purple bruising swelled on her pale cheeks.

  “Katie,” he cried as she shook with spasms and fell into his arms. People around him began moaning and crying, their voices blending into a shrieking cacophony.

  He lowered Katie back into her chair and turned around. “Caroline, help me!” he shouted.

  “I’m here, Jim.” Caroline spoke from behind him.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up.

  Caroline’s face and chest were covered in hundreds of blacken skin tears, each oozing fluid. Her eyes were sightless red orbs, and her body began to shake. Blood spilled from her open mouth. She screamed his name and fell upon him. Blood smeared across his face and hands.

&nbs
p; Around him, the pale celebrants turned towards him one by one, moaning in pain, some calling his name. As they moved, they too, began to shake and split open. Their features melted into horrifying masks. The voices rose into a screeching din encouraged on by the screaming of one voice…

  The scream ripped through the night and woke him. Mitchell shot up in bed, eyes wide and heart pounding in his ears. His throat felt raw and tight. He gasped for air, willing himself to slow down his breathing and the pounding ache in his chest. It took him a few moments to realize that he was not in cold North Dakota but in warm Landover, Maryland. The night breeze stirred the bedroom’s faded curtains, showing glimpses of the dark street outside. The alarm clock glowed red numbers, fifteen past five from the chipped dresser.

  His stomach lurched and he ran for the bathroom, vomiting. Afterwards, he splashed water on his face and then stared at the pale old man in the mirror. The images, half memory, half guilt-ridden nightmare played across his mind again. They were getting worse over the last few weeks. With shaking hands, he picked up the snapshots of his wife and daughter. Caroline’s soft smile seemed to beckon him while Katie, only fourteen when the picture was taken, looked impertinent to the point of cocky. “I love you.” He whispered, “I’ll join you soon.”

  The bare light bulb in the bathroom made his skin look sallow as he stared at his own brown, bloodshot eyes. At forty-eight years old, he wasn’t much to look at, not particularly handsome or ugly. He was average height and still fairly fit with light brown hair flecked with a little gray. He usually wore it closely cropped but now it grew long and unruly. In truth, his lack of distinction had served him well over the last few weeks. In a suit, he blended in to the business-suit, corporate worker world. Often called corp clones, they bustled in and out of the subways from dawn to dusk with com-units tucked into ears and comp-screen glasses in front of their eyes.