by Ison, S. A.
He passed Zack, who was gulping down ice water.
“Quit screwing around Zack, I need help with these tables,” Dale barked.
“My friggen’ head feels like it is about to explode,” Zack said, and took another long drink.
“Well, join the fucking club. You ain’t the only one that’s hurtin’, I’m about to lose my lunch, dude. I wish you’d have brought something to help us out, man. If I have to do this shit, so do you. Don’t be a pussy, man,” Dale said, and punched Zack in the arm.
“Fuck you, and fuck off, man. I’m going to Kalvin, then I’m going home. I got the trots, man, and I ain’t gonna crap my pants here,” Zack growled.
Dale watched as Zack ripped his apron off and flung it onto the back counter, then exited out the back of the restaurant.
That made his mood even more foul, and every chance he got, he spat onto the customers’ orders until his shift ended later that evening.
Berlin, Germany
Terry Webb lay on the soft carpeted floor of the Scandic Berlin Potsdamer Platz, telephone pulled down from the night stand. He gasped and moaned, trying to get the words out, but bloody bubbling and wheezing were all he could manage.
He’d been in Berlin for two days, and had tried to call Miriam’s cell without any luck. He’d left numerous voicemails. He’d come off the flight with gripping gastrointestinal pains and his head splitting as shards of pain ripped through his brain. He’d drunk whole bottle of Kaopectate, and still the diarrhea persisted. He’d spent the first night hugging the toilet, counting the blue tiles on the walls.
This morning, it felt like his gut was on fire. Between the vomiting and diarrhea, he had coughing fits that left him breathless. He tried to drink water, but vomited it back up immediately. As his lay his head on the toilet seat, he thought of Miriam. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to talk to her again. Somehow, deep down, he knew he was dying. This just wasn’t normal, and he’d started seeing blood in the watery stool and vomit.
After some confusion, Terry was rushed to Herzinstitut Berlin. By the time the hospital staff realized what they had on their hands and placed him in isolation and quarantine, Terry had come into contact with over a dozen people. He died that night.
Washington, DC
Gerald went back and forth to the computer; he just had to tweak his program a little more. He knew he should have handed it over to Georgia a couple of days ago, but it was irresistible not to add a little here, amend a little there. He had so many levels to the virus. It could take down power grids, banking exchanges, communications networks, and satellites. Shit, he’d even devised a way to take out military protocols and get around firewalls, which had been a big challenge. His pride and glory was its domino effect. Once downloaded, the program would trigger a series of multilayered offshoot viruses, going in as innocuous files, only to explode with polygonal destruction.
The best part of the virus was that he had developed a destruction graphic. Three days and nearly a case of Red Bull later, and he had developed worms with huge sharp teeth that would chew across a screen, eating away the data.
It was brilliant, and he was impressed. They were green and black nasty looking things. And he could envision some sucker sat in front of a console watching as his little creatures ate away, causing havoc. It was priceless. As the worms munched across the screen, the words “Welcome to the Stone Age” scrolled across.
He’d been tempted to put “Made in America,” but had thought better of it. It was supposed to be secret, after all. He would tweak it for another week, and then he would call Georgia. It was ready now, but he wanted to mull over it, just in case he thought of any more nasty tricks he could program into it. Another week, and then he could make plans to head to China or some cool place with hot chicks, and with money in his pocket to spend.
Chicago, Illinois
Zack left Chandler’s. His head and his throat were killing him. Dale had wanted to leave, but he’d asked first, and was glad he had. The place was packed and he was feeling so rotten, he just couldn’t stay. The base of his skull was hot, and he felt as though the back of his head wanted to explode. He’d been wheezing and coughing all day, trying not to get it on the food. Then the diarrhea had set in, and he just wanted out of there.
He’d taken a small tray of roasted eggplant in olive oil. His sister loved it, especially with the pregnancy. He would drop it off and leave. He knew that would make Stephen happy as hell. He was pretty sure Mike was there too; they were always together. He wouldn’t stick around. He knew he was getting sick, and didn’t want to get near his sister.
Mike answered the door, his face breaking out in a wide smile when he saw the tray in Zack’s hands. Taking the tray, he looked Zack up and down. His nonexistent eye brows quirked up in a silent enquiry. “You don’t look so good, dude. Maybe you should go home and go to bed,” he said.
“Yeah, you think so, asshole? Make sure my sister gets some. Don’t you and your boyfriend eat it all,” Zack called from the door.
Stephen held up a middle finger, still intent on playing his game.
“We love you too shit bird. Don’t get my wife sick. Go home,” Stephen said.
Before Zack could say anything, Mike walked back to the door and slammed it shut in his face.
“Screw you, assholes,” Zack yelled through the door, then stomped down the hall.
Zack made his way home. He sat near the front of the bus, moodily watching the people get on and off. He got off at his stop and walked the last block to his apartment. He stopped by a bodega near his home and got some beer and aspirin. He just felt horrible, and wasn’t planning on going in to work tomorrow. He didn’t give a shit if Dale went or not. He wasn’t working.
15 June
Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina
Pearl brought a tray of sweet ice tea into the living room. Randal was flipping channels, then settled on the local news. It was early evening; Pearl’s hair gleamed in the lamplight, its jet-black mass streaked with wide swashes of silver. Pearl’s father had been stationed at the airbase in Misawa Japan years ago, where he had met and married Pearl’s mother, Mieko. Because Harris was black, Mieko’s parents had disowned her. So Harris had brought his bride home to Charleston.
The couple settled close to each other on the deep green tweed couch, Pearl’s feet resting in Randal’s lap as he absently rubbed her feet, her back against several gray pillows. The light from the TV played over her husband’s face; a soft smile creased her face. They watched the news, and sat forward as reports of a virulent flu virus came in from around the country. Multiple cities and towns reported new cases cropping up. The announcer’s face was serious as he leaned forward, advising folks to get their flu shots and to keep their hands clean.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Pearl said, biting her lower lip. Worry crossed her features.
“No, it doesn’t. Look, it’s all over the place. They’re saying they think it started in St. Louis, or Chicago, but cases are being reported all over,” Randal observed, rubbing Pearl’s hand in his larger one.
“That’s really scary. I wonder where it came from,” Pearl murmured.
“There’s no telling. With the way travel is today, you could catch it in one country and spread it to another country within hours.” Randal sipped his ice tea.
“Looks like it’s a nasty flu strain, for sure, and spreading fast. Didn’t we have something like that a couple years ago?” Pearl asked, turning to look at Randal.
“No, that wasn’t the flu, it was Ebola. They brought some teenager into California who had it, and knew she had it. I was so angry, because I couldn’t imagine why anyone would knowingly bring in and infectious and dangerous virus into the US.” A frown creased Randal’s forehead.
Pearl sighed heavily; she could feel vibrations of fear start to move through her body. At their age, getting sick could kill either of them, and this flu sounded deadly.
“Yes, and then a pair of twins from Liberi
a flew into Laughlin International Airport in Bullhead City, Arizona, and the women knew they were sick. They could have infected so many. I can’t believe people would do that on purpose.” Pearl’s voice trembled.
“Maybe it’s happened again. Maybe someone from over in Africa or Europe flew in and got some people sick, and now it is spreading; only this time it’s the flu…or something like the flu,” Randal said.
“We need to be careful, honey. It hasn’t hit South Carolina yet, but I think it will only be a matter of time. What say we do a little bulk shopping tomorrow?”
“I think that is a good idea Pearl. Let’s just stay close to home for a while. I’ll call the kids and suggest they do the same. I know those flu shots don’t do a lot of good. They always make me sick, and I still get the flu. I’m glad the children are out of school for the summer.”
Pearl laid her head on Randal’s shoulder. She could hear the surf, and she took a deep breath. She felt her husband’s arm slip around her slender waist and pull her closer. She fought down the urge to get up and lock all the doors and windows. She knew she was being foolish, but couldn’t help herself. Randal squeezed her to him and murmured that it’d all be all right. She hoped so.
St. Louis, Missouri
Nancy Pryor was rushed to Gateway Regional hospital after she blacked out while driving her SUV. The SUV had ended up wrapped around a lamp post. The EMT rubbed her sternum briskly, trying to get a response. Her BP was low, and her breathing shallow. She’d been wearing her seatbelt, and the airbag had saved her from eating the steering column. The EMTs registered her temperature at 99 and thought nothing of the slightly elevated temp, but noted it on the chart.
She was rushed into the bay, and several nurses and the ER doctor began to work on her. Blood was drawn and sent to the lab; there wasn’t any smell of alcohol, but the accident could have been drug-related. Nancy was sent to radiology, and pictures were taken of her head, neck, and thoracic area. They needed to see what was going on internally.
The film showed a brain aneurysm. By the time Nancy made it back down to the ER, her eyes were fixed, and she died on the table. The nurses wrote on the chart and the ER doctor on duty signed off on the cause of death as “Brain Aneurysm.” Sad. She was a young woman. The ER doctor briefly wondered if she had children.
The EVS personnel came in to clean the ER bay, ready it for the next patient. The body was transported to the morgue.
***
Sitting in court, Officer Hamilton waited to give his testimony. It would only take a few minutes and then he could get on with his day, but it felt like an eternity. His skull felt like shards of razorblades rushed through with each heartbeat. He felt feverish, and his throat was raw. He’d been feeling lousy the last few days, and had woken this morning with one hell of a fever. He’d tried to call in sick, but was told they needed him at the court house, so here he was.
While he waited, he texted Julia and asked how she was feeling. She too was feeling lousy and was in bed. After court, he thought he might just go home and join her in bed. He wished he had some aspirin. His phone chimed, and he read her text. Feeling crappy. Wish you were here.
He snorted, and texted back that he loved her and would come home as soon as he could. He leaned back on the bench and breathed in the smell of the courtroom. It was a mixture of furniture polish, paper, and body odor. He could smell someone’s cheap cologne, and felt nausea creep up his throat. Terrific, he thought. It would be just great if he barfed while giving his testimony.
He had just come from the county jail, and that had also put him in a foul mood. Several of the prisoners being processed had started a tussle, and he’d had to break it up. One prisoner was on his way to Tipton Corrections, and the other to Jefferson City Corrections. Which was a good thing, as they wanted to kill each other. It didn’t help that his head was about to come off. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered the frightening question: might be that flu virus?
He’d seen the news earlier that morning about a virus going around. It was here in St. Louis, and other places around the country. Maybe he would pick up some sports drinks on his way home, and some chicken soup. It couldn’t hurt, and to hell with work; he was feeling lousier by the minute. He’d like nothing better to cuddle in misery with his Julia-Poo.
He wondered idly if they’d caught the bug from Rich’s kid’s birthday party. Rich’s kids always had green gunky noses. He shuddered at the thought. He hoped that when he and Julia had kids, she wouldn’t let them run around like that. He swallowed hard, trying not to think of the youngest blowing green bubbles from his nose.
He heard his case number and shook off the gruesome thoughts. He had work to do, and then it was home to his bride. And no more thoughts of gunky green noses, he ordered himself, swallowing down a reflexive heave.
MS Albino Marsopa, off Andros Island, The Bahamas
Mavis and Caroline were seven days into their ten-day cruise and enjoying themselves. The Miami Travel Inc. cruise ship Albino Marsopa was island-hopping, and their diet was one of shopping, eating, and sunbathing. They’d already made a stop in St. Martin, and had gone shopping. They had also stopped in Nassau, and had just left Andros Island. The people at each island were so friendly and helpful.
The Albino Marsopa was a beautiful ship, and there were so many people from different places, everyone enjoying the sun and the fun. Their cabin wasn’t too small, with twin beds. They had a small bathroom that sported a roomy shower. Mavis wished they could afford a room with windows, but really, this was sufficient, as they spent the majority of their time above decks at the pools, man-watching. Both had flirted with some of the staff members as well. She and Caroline were of about the same build and height, and so traded clothes. They enjoyed the shows each evening, and had danced the night away in the ballroom several times already.
Eating in the spacious dining rooms was a treat. The food seemed endless, and there was so much to choose from. They both loved the soft ice cream, and went back several times to indulge themselves. There were buffets they could cruise by and eat their fill, there were restaurants where they could sit and relax and imbibe fruity drinks. Their every wish and whim was fulfilled with a smile from the staff.
The heat was intense, though, and Mavis had returned to the ship early while it was still docked at Andros Island. She now lay in her bed with a cool damp cloth on her forehead. If only her head didn’t hurt so badly, then she could really enjoy herself. Caroline had loved her new dress, and Mavis thought she was just the tiniest bit jealous. She had used the new lipstick, which had matched perfectly. She’d capitulated and let Caroline borrow it for their outing today. She knew her cousin was now wandering somewhere on the ship.
Mavis dozed off, and woke when Caroline came into the cabin, laden with bags of gifts for family and friends. She smiled wanly at her cousin as she watched Caroline deposit the package on her neatly-made bed.
Mavis readjusted the damp cloth on her head.
“How goes it, Mav?” Caroline asked, placing her hand on Mavis’s forehead. “You’re feeling kind of hot.”
“I’m okay, just a headache. I’ll be good in a bit. I want to go to dinner. We get to sit with the captain tonight, and I’m not going to miss that.”
“Are you sure? I hope you aren’t getting sick or something. I’d hate to see you spend the rest of the trip in bed,” Caroline said as she sat down across from Mavis
“I think it was just the heat and the sun. I’m not used to it, you know.” Mavis shifted her body to get more comfortable. “Trust me, I’ll be all right. Just come get me in an hour. I’ll be ready.” She replaced the damp cloth back over her eyes.
An hour later, both women were in the dining room. It was crowded, as usual, and everyone was chattering away. The smell of lobster and fish permeated the atmosphere. The table was beautifully set with fine china and a massive centerpiece of exotic flowers. Mavis was pale, but felt better after a few aspirin. She sipped the cold water as
she listened to the captain, and she smiled from time to time, her eye catching Caroline’s every now and then, who’s mouth was hanging open.
After dinner, she and Caroline mingled and visited with the other guests. Both women reveled in the feeling of make-believe. They could both pretend to be something they weren’t: rich and elegant. It was their time to be pampered and waited on.
Mavis noticed Caroline rubbing her head. “You okay, cuz?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a headache and feel a little queasy. I ate some conch earlier on the island, I know I shouldn’t have, but it was so good,” Caroline said, sipping her rum punch.
“Maybe we need to go dancing again so you can sweat it out,” Mavis laughed, then grabbed her cousin’s arm and dragged her off to the discotheque.
St. Louis, Missouri
In the very bottom basement complex of the University of St. Louis, several unofficial government agents arrived at the admin section with notices. Only a few personnel were on hand, as most of the others at the complex had become ill and been admitted into the local hospitals. The agents were closing down the facility and locking it up until further notice.
All employees signed non-disclosure agreements once more, and were told that they would receive severance as well as possible new assignments. They were told to take an extended vacation. The agents also visited the homes of any victims associated with the lab, which they sanitized, ensuring no evidence was left of the lab’s existence. The innocuous agency had mandated that its employees never have, keep, or carry anything identifying or linking them to the lab. The government needed complete plausible deniability. The right hand didn’t want the left hand to know what it was doing.
