Fugitive Spy

by Jordyn Redwood

  Ashley’s eyes widened as she read the notations. Casper slowly closed the flaps. “We’re probably fine. Whoever wrapped these seemed to take enough care not to expose whoever found it. They didn’t want someone to accidentally contaminate themselves, but we need to hide this somewhere.”

  “Agreed,” Ashley said. She sat cross-legged on the floor and began examining the documents. “These are the medical records for two of the three boys that popped up with the mysterious illness—I guess ES1. They start with the ER evaluation. The date seems to be about ten days after the news article about the balloons that floated into town.”

  After leafing through the pile, she handed a set to Casper.

  “I’ll look through the ER records,” she said. “You handle the admission notes and the labs for both boys. Might as well use our strengths.”

  They both read silently for a few minutes. Casper finished the last page and straightened the stack that rested on his legs. Ashley looked at him expectantly.

  “You first,” Casper said.

  “The boys present within one day of each other. First symptoms were classic flu-like etiology. High fever. Headache. Fatigue. Muscle pain and weakness. There is a rash. In one chart, the physician notes that it started on his face and hands.”

  “That’s a classic presentation for smallpox,” Casper noted.

  Ashley nodded. “After the rash, Patient One is noted to have developed blisters on his trunk, which was what prompted his mother to seek medical attention. The attending doctor, Brent Ward, thought the teen had chicken pox—same with the other boys.”

  “That confusion would be natural. Admittedly, this ER physician wouldn’t be thinking their small town had suffered some kind of biological attack, so viewing this teen’s illness as possible chicken pox is reasonable. Assuming the other boys having the same thing would also make sense because of their close proximity to one another, making transmission probable.”

  “This patient was sent home but then presented two days later when the blisters filled with blood. The doctor also notes strikingly reddened eyes.”

  “Which are hallmarks of Ebola infection. However, the hemorrhagic vesicles can also be a rare complication of chicken pox, so no real reason to reject the original diagnosis,” Casper noted.

  “What did you find?” Ashley asked.

  “The medical course for Patient One was a very quick demise. Respiratory distress. Bleeding from multiple sites. The lab work is consistent with overwhelming infection. The symptoms described and the signs that the medical team were managing could be consistent with coinfection of both Ebola and smallpox. The teens exhibited patterns of both disease processes.”

  “So what’s next? Where do we go from here?”

  “I want to go to the cemetery. Seems like a good place to hide this box. Plus we can see if there was a cluster of other deaths around this time frame.”

  They walked out of the building and stopped by the car. Casper kept the sheaf of papers and tucked them under the driver’s seat. Ashley sat in the passenger seat and he handed her the box. She took it, though with a look of distaste on her face.

  Casper drove farther up the hill to the cemetery and passed through its dilapidated wrought iron gates. The dirt roads were largely overgrown with weeds, but it was possible to still make out the twin tracks ground into the dirt where many wheels had passed before. Finally seeing what he was looking for, he stopped and motioned Ashley out of the car, grabbing the same pipe he’d used to unearth the box from the bottom of the shower.

  After walking a few steps, he stood before the grave marker. It was one of the teens. Side by side were the boy’s parents and likely his sister. The next sets of graves over were the two other teens and their families. Casper calculated the dates in his head. The family deaths were perhaps within two weeks of the index cases. Did that mean the disease had been airborne-spread as smallpox was known to be? Contact-spread like Ebola? Or was it an indication of some combination of both?

  Ashley stepped back as Casper began to walk down the line of graves. Each marker held a story of a cluster of deaths this town had suffered within a two-week period.

  “Brent Ward. Wasn’t he the ER doctor who saw Patient One in the ER?” Casper asked.

  “He was,” Ashley affirmed.

  Casper stood in front of another grave. “And this woman, she was one of the nurses in the medical unit.” A heaviness settled over Casper—grief over these innocent lives lost. He kept walking, kept looking. Energy leached from his body with every granite stalwart bearing silent witness to what had come to pass in this town.

  “Ashley,” Casper called. She walked to where he stood.

  The grave marker listed the name Vladimir Sokolov.

  Her father’s Russian friend—the bioweapons specialist—had died during the outbreak.

  What had they been doing?

  She reached out and latched onto Casper’s hand, her breath ragged in her chest, apparently needing to feel close to someone other than death.

  When those three boys found the balloon on their evening trek—it had led to the deaths of over ten people.

  Definitely not chicken pox as the medical professionals initially believed.

  * * *

  Ashley sat silent in the dried grass as Casper hacked away at the ground. She couldn’t discern his mood. Angry? Grief stricken? A combination of both? Ever since he’d given her a count of the graves and told her his plan of burying the box that held one of the most lethal bioweapons known to man he hadn’t said much to her.

  It was cool, slightly breezy. Bearable with a jacket. She could have sat in the car, but she wanted to be there with him. If only to keep him company as he physically exerted himself while dealing with the emotional pain caused by what was no doubt running through his mind.

  The clouds rushed by as quickly as her thoughts tumbled through her mind. Seemingly, she couldn’t concentrate on one thing. Where was her father? Was he alive? Was her mother still okay? Her brother?

  Lord, Casper believes everything has a purpose, but it’s hard for me to see that among these stones that mark where innocent people have died by an evil person’s hand. What should we do next? Where should we go? If there’s an attack coming soon, we need You to reveal the next step we should take to stop it.

  Casper neared her, taking the box from her hands and offering her a weak smile. She stood and followed. It fit tightly into the hole he had dug, but the top would be a few inches under the ground. He’d picked a spot at the back of the cemetery at the base of the most distinct tree. He slammed the pipe several times against the tree’s trunk, knocking off some of the bark so they could find it again. If anyone happened to walk by, it would be noticeable, but who would ever guess the secret that it held? Who would take that mark as a sign to dig up one of the earth’s deadliest threats?

  Using his foot, Casper pushed dirt over the box. Ashley helped. Once it was covered, Casper lightly tapped the top, leveling out the dirt. Ashley walked through the markers, picking handfuls of long dried grass. Casper did the same. When they’d gathered enough, they met back up and covered the site with their clippings.

  “Hopefully, we’ll be able to send the right people to find this. And if we can’t, then hopefully the wrong people will never find it.”

  “What’s next?” Ashley asked.

  Casper’s vision was drawn away from her. He was looking back at the partially burned-out shell of the hospital. She followed his gaze.

  Another car—parking at the ambulance entrance just as they had done.

  Casper motioned her down. Ashley dropped into a crouched position.

  “We can’t let them know we’ve been here,” Casper said.

  How had Jared found them so quickly? Did he already know about these sites? Even though she could never justify taking a life, they wouldn’t be in this predicament if
Jared and his men had died. Casper started to crawl. Ashley followed. The distance to the car wasn’t great, but within a few feet the palms of her hands were already scratched up from the rough ground. They eased inside. They couldn’t see the men by the other car anymore. Casper turned the vehicle on and began to take the road down.

  As soon as they hit the paved road, the men came out of the hospital. One pointed straight at them.

  “They see us,” Ashley said.

  Casper took a hard right. Unfortunately, the only way back to the two-lane highway was the small road that passed in front of the hospital.

  Too quickly, the other car eased behind them, gaining speed.

  “This is going to be rough,” Casper said.

  Ashley tightened her seat belt. The car swung into the other lane. She looked ahead up the road. A red truck was bearing down on their assailants. Casper hit the brake, and the car veered into their lane just seconds before the beat-up vehicle passed, its horn blaring.

  Casper checked the road up ahead and moved into the other lane, quickly speeding up.

  “What are you doing?” Ashley asked, her voice an octave higher.

  “Getting Jared off our tail.” Casper pulled up next to them. “Hold on.”

  He veered right, ramming their car into their assailants’ vehicle. The black car swerved onto the loose gravel shoulder, swiveling violently as the driver tried to get the wheels to find the safety of the pavement once more. The shoulder dropped off, and the car slid off into the embankment. Ashley turned around, saw the car roll one and a half times, settling on its hood.

  A haze of dust settled in the air.

  Ashley settled back in her seat and looked straight ahead. The jolt awakened the aching in her side.

  “Are you okay?” Casper asked.

  Ashley swallowed over her beating heart. “Yes. They teach you that in spy school?”

  Casper remained silent for miles, constantly checking in his mirror to see if anyone else was following them. Ashley found herself breathing easier after thirty minutes had passed without seeing anyone suspicious.

  They seemed to be in the clear for now.

  Casper never had answered her last question. He’d been deathly silent. Was it the incident they’d just survived? Or was something else bothering him?

  “I can understand why you’re quiet. Is it our pursuers? Or is it finding out about all those innocent deaths in Black Falls? I always need time after the death of a patient to get my bearings, but I’d like to know what you’re thinking.”

  At first, he looked out the driver’s window, most likely to hide the emotion on his face. “Seeing those graves is reminding me too much of all the innocent people who are gone because of Jared. My partner died. He was going to find you—to protect you. We’d been working on some intel that was pointing to a pending attack.” Casper shook his head in dismay. “This incident that this town suffered happened just over a year ago, but to develop a pathogen like this could easily have taken years...even decades. People in power, those who are supposed to protect us, forget just how patient an enemy can be.”

  Ashley contemplated his statement. It was true. If there was an imminent attack, it could have been in the works for close to two decades—if her family suddenly being flush with cash was payment for her father’s participation in the scheme. Casper didn’t think it was possible for her father to do something like that, but if her father loved her as much as Casper proclaimed, then wouldn’t he have done anything for her to get the heart surgery she’d needed?

  “Even if we stop this, there will always be something else—someone else bent on destroying everything good about life,” Casper said.

  A cavernous hole opened up in Ashley’s gut. Casper, the über-optimist, was faltering right in front of her eyes. Everyone had a breaking point—a time when they questioned the purpose of life...their purpose. She’d done so herself. Perhaps it wasn’t natural for her to always go to God first, but it was for Casper.

  “In the ER, I’ve seen many people suffer devastating injuries. Sometimes, I’ve had the opportunity to get to know them, to keep in touch with them. All I know is, sometimes going through events like this becomes the glue that binds people together in a way that other events can’t,” Ashley said.

  “It’s just the devastation. For the people left behind, I can see what you’re saying. We can come to know a different purpose after struggling through traumatic events. Right now, I’m just angry over all that’s been lost.”

  Casper stopped the car and Ashley shifted her focus to the structure right in front of them. Whatever that building had been, it looked like a bomb had leveled it.

  And considering their current circumstances, that could be exactly what had happened.

  “What is this place?” Ashley asked Casper.

  “It’s the location of one of the labs that we found in your father’s secret files. Guess this isn’t going to help us find any clues. If I had to guess, looks like it was destroyed on purpose. Someone is definitely trying to hide their tracks.”

  Ashley swallowed hard. Who were these people? An entire town decimated from some person’s evil plot? Casper was right. It was hard to reason in her mind if they could have anything good come out of these tragedies. What they were seeing was leaving a mark on their lives. Casper’s partner and good friend was dead. Her father could easily be gone, as well. Both of them had already nearly died.

  Suffering changed a person...that was for sure.

  Who would Casper and Ashley be after they survived this?

  If they survived this.

  FOURTEEN

  Casper parked in front of a motel they found in Aspen Ridge, Colorado. According to the files on the thumb drive, this was the other town to have suffered a biological attack of ES1. He paid for two rooms in cash. Both had decided a good night’s sleep was warranted. This town was a step up from Black Falls. At least it had people, a sense of life. The cases here hadn’t led to the demise of the town.

  What had been the difference between the two incidents?

  They’d stopped by a thrift shop and bought some upscale clothes. The next morning, Ashley was already showered and dressed when he awoke. Not that she needed any improvement to her, but Casper was smitten by her in makeup and heels. Both of them had to look professional and not as if they’d been living out of a car for a week.

  “I didn’t know what I would use this badge for, but I think this is the only way we’re going to get our questions answered regarding what might have happened here six months ago.” He clipped the CDC badge to his sport coat. “Do I look official?”

  “Official enough.”

  The hospital was close to the motel where they’d stayed the night before. Casper packed everything back into the car. They were considering staying another night, but he thought it best to be prepared.

  Just in case they had to run.

  After talking to a few of the medical staff, flashing his badge for emphasis, Casper pressed the buzzer for the entrance to the lab.

  An older gentleman opened the door. Hopefully, he was here when the event occurred and could give insight as to what type of pathogen might have infected the patients. Many labs sent items out, but this being a regional facility, Casper could see that it looked like they had some decent microbiology equipment on hand.

  Casper held his badge up. “I’m Dr. Casper English and this Dr. Drager. I’m from the CDC and we’re inquiring about a mysterious illness that hit this area about six months ago.”

  The man held his hand out. Casper shook it briefly. “Oscar Simmons.” He motioned them forward and brought them into a small room that Casper guessed to be their staff lounge. They all took seats.

  Casper opened a folder that had a photo of the pathogen. “Have you worked much in microbiology?”

  “I have. My whole life.”


  Finally, they were making headway. Maybe this wouldn’t be the obstacle Casper thought it might be. “We know you had patients that showed up with a mysterious illness about six months back. Did you ever identify the pathogen?”

  “Two patients. I did not identify the virus. The government did. It surprised me then that no one from the CDC seemed interested despite my phone calls. However, this guy from the military was quick to show up...came in and took things over. Ordered the patients into quarantine and everything. He and his team handled the situation.”

  “What can you tell us about the illness?” Ashley asked, leaning forward.

  “Started out like seemingly every other bad viral illness. High fever. Muscle aches. Headaches. Then they developed a rash that progressed into fluid-filled lesions.”

  “Did the lesions fill with blood?” Ashley asked.

  “They did.” Oscar rested back in his chair. “Why are you here now? Has there been another outbreak?”

  “No, sir,” Casper said. “There have only been a smattering of these cases and we’re going back and looking at the data to see what conditions, if any, make the emergence of this virus possible.”

  “Personally, I don’t think it was a natural occurrence, if you know what I mean,” Oscar winked.

  “What makes you say that?” Ashley asked.

  Oscar withdrew his phone from his back pocket and pulled up a photo. “One of the boys had a picture of this.” He placed his phone on the table and slid it in Casper’s direction.

  Casper caught it between his fingers and moved it so it sat between him and Ashley. The skin on his forearms prickled.

  It was a photo of a bomblet, the same type and style that fell in Black Falls. There wasn’t any feasible way it would have been from the same balloons because of the months between incidents.

  “Did your patients come across this item?” Casper asked, handing the phone back to Oscar.

  “They did—in the middle of a field. Hard to know if it was part of their becoming sick, but one of the mothers informed the physician about it, who then forwarded it to me. You know what this is?” Oscar asked Casper.