Braving The Storms (Strengthen What Remains Book 3)

by Kyle Pratt

  With a sigh he phoned.

  “Where are you? Are you okay?” Maria nearly shouted into the phone.

  “I’m at the hospital—but I’m fine.” He then explained everything that happened up to finding Hugh Colson and meeting Doctor Scott at the hospital. “The doctor thinks I might have been exposed to the Kern flu.” He left out most details of the carjacking, Jake waving a gun at him, and that he was in an isolation ward. When she didn’t ask about the Kern flu he continued. “This flu thing is spreading across—”

  “I know about the pandemic.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Lisa. David told her. She assumed I knew all about it. Imagine her surprise when I hadn’t heard a word.”

  I’ll need to review security procedures with my XO. “I was going to tell you about it.”

  “When?”

  “Probably tonight…or tomorrow.” Caden spent several minutes smoothing things over with Maria and then, since he was stuck in a hospital room with nothing to do, they had one of their longest conversations in months.

  The door squeaked and Dr. Scott entered carrying a tray with vials and needles.

  Caden sighed. “I’ve got to go, the doctor is here. I’ll call you in the morning. I should know a lot more then.”

  After getting a swab and a vial of blood Dr. Scott attached adhesive tabs to Caden’s chest that led back to a heart monitor and then clipped a sensor over one of his fingers.

  “I’ll never get any sleep with all these wires and beeps.”

  As she turned to leave Dr. Scott said, “Try.”

  * * *

  Hansen General Hospital, Wednesday, September 23rd

  The sound of footsteps caused Caden to wake. His eyes opened to Dr. Scott holding a syringe. “Need more blood?”

  “No. I think you’re fine. I’ll take another swab to be sure, though.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Nine o’clock.”

  “In the morning? Why did you let me sleep so late?”

  “You weren’t going anywhere so, why wake you up before I needed to?”

  Caden grunted. There was logic to the doctor’s reasoning.

  When she finished he stood looking for his phone.

  “Sit. I need to take your blood pressure, pulse, and temperature.”

  Caden obeyed. “I feel fine. When can I get out of here?”

  The doctor wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm. “If you remain asymptomatic perhaps we can release you later this evening. It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “The samples from last night and this morning.”

  “Like I said, I feel fine.”

  “Right now you’re fine,” Dr Scott said flatly. “So were the two little boys, but now they’re dead.”

  Chapter Nine

  Hansen General Hospital, Wednesday, September 23rd

  Caden knew the woman had died, but news of the children came as a shock. “The two boys? Dead? When?”

  Dr. Scott wilted into a nearby chair. “About four hours ago.”

  The words were not spoken callously, but flatly, without emotion. Looking at the doctor, Caden thought she appeared older than her years. Sadness lurked in her eyes. Of course she was tired. Death had visited the isolation ward twice in one night.

  Perhaps she had seen too much death this last year or perhaps the gloom was because death had come for children. Perhaps both were the cause. “What about the others, Hugh, Jake and his wife?”

  “Hugh Coulson is critical and Debra, Jake’s wife, is in serious condition. We’ll know in the next few hours if they’re going to make it.”

  “What about Jake?”

  “He isn’t showing symptoms, but I had to sedate him during the night.” She shook her head. “If he wakes up and discovers the others are dead…I just don’t know what he’ll do.”

  “What about Zach and Private Nelson?”

  “They’re not displaying any symptoms. If you continue to be asymptomatic, I may release them in a few hours.”

  “Why is their release contingent upon me being okay?”

  “Because they would have been infected by you. If you don’t get sick they almost certainly won’t. I’ll let you know soon, but right now I’m waiting on the results from the tests last night.”

  “How long does it take you to get a test done?”

  “We flew the samples to the lab at Washington State University. They’ll call us when they have the results.”

  “You can’t do a flu test here?”

  “Sure I can,” the doctor’s voice sounded irritated. “But I need to know if it’s the Kern variant.”

  Caden leaned back onto the bed. “Okay, I’ll wait and hope for everyone’s sake I stay healthy.” Alone in his room he stared at the walls and wondered who the Grim Reaper would visit next. Wanting to change the direction of his thoughts, he grabbed his phone and called Maria. He wasn’t going to get caught holding back information from her again.

  * * *

  Brennon Trailer Home, Wednesday, September 23rd

  “Hi,” Vicki said as she greeted her brother at the door of the rusty single-wide trailer they called home. “Where have you been?”

  Since he wasn’t infected, Zach decided not to tell his sister, or DeLynn about his stay in the hospital isolation unit. “Armory stuff. They needed me.”

  “You missed school. I was worried.”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

  “Well, I guess you heard the rainstorm last night and this morning.” She stepped away from the door.

  He hadn’t, but he had seen the puddles on the way home. “What about it?” He stepped into the trailer. Seeing buckets, towels on the floor, and a mop he stopped. “What happened?”

  Vicki grasped the mop. “The roof leaks.”

  His sister had pushed much of the furniture out of the living room, which was a soggy mess, into the kitchen. The threadbare carpet was soaked. Parts of the home were dry, but the whole place smelled like a wet dog.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Good I’ll make us some dinner.” She handed him the mop. “And you can wipe up for a while.”

  Zach took the handle. A huge weight descended upon him. With his father a fading memory and his mother now gone, sometimes he felt more like a parent to Vicki, instead of an older brother. However, right then he really wanted a parent with answers because the rainy season would soon be upon them and he had no idea how to repair a trailer roof or where to find the money to get it done.

  * * *

  On the road to Morton, Wednesday, September 23rd

  As if waking from a long and restless sleep, Fletcher blinked open his eyes. He squinted at the sun coming through a window. He was in a Humvee moving along smooth terrain, probably a road, but why? His body protested every move with aches and stiffness. Struggling, he sat up.

  “Oh, good, you’re alive.” Private Spencer said from the front passenger seat.

  “Alive.” The words came with difficulty from Fletcher’s dry throat. On the seat before him was a body bag. He struggled to organize thoughts and memories.

  “How is Harper?”

  The private laid beside him in the rear of the Humvee. Fletcher clutched his wrist. Harper’s skin was clammy and the pulse weak. “Barely alive. What happened?”

  “I have no idea. Monday a lot of the guys woke up ill. We started getting people into the vehicles, to head out, but more got sick until there weren’t enough healthy people to move them. Then they started dying. For more than a day most everyone was sick or treating the sick. This morning there were enough people well enough to load the sick. So, we left Grim Reaper lodge.”

  “Grim Reaper lodge?”

  “That’s what we call the place.”

  Feeling light headed, Fletcher slumped. “What day is it?”

  “Wednesday.”

  “Are we on the way to the armory?”

  “No,” Spencer repl
ied. “We’re going to Morton hospital.”

  Fletcher nodded, even though no one could see him. “How many dead?”

  “Six. Harper, and Deputy Morris are really sick. We weren’t sure about you. I’m glad you’re getting better.”

  Fletcher wasn’t sure he was feeling better, just conscious, but he wasn’t going to argue the point either.

  “Report in?” he asked, breathing deeply for each word.

  “We’re still out of range. We’ll get everyone to the hospital and then report.”

  “Okay,” Fletcher mumbled. Gradually sleep overtook him.

  It seemed like only moments later that shouts and hurried movement intruded upon his fitful slumber. As Fletcher opened his eyes, two soldiers hoisted Private Harper onto a gurney. Another two pulled the body bag from the seat in front of him.

  Private Spencer offered Fletcher a hand as he slid himself out the rear of the vehicle. He waved off the assistance. Fletcher leaned against the Humvee, stood for a moment, and then shuffled toward the emergency room door.

  Fletcher rested a hand on Private Spencer’s shoulder. “Is Corporal Franklin okay?”

  “Yes, First Sergeant. He was in the other Humvee. We were the only two that didn’t get sick.”

  “Find him. Tell him to make sure everyone gets seen and treated.”

  Inside the building Fletcher found the men’s room and leaned over a sink. He splashed water on the gaunt face that greeted him in the mirror and then, cupping his hands under the flow, drank.

  Fletcher felt, and now knew, he looked like a zombie. People starred at him as he dragged himself across the busy emergency room. He knew he looked like the living dead, but several others in the waiting area looked as bad. Whatever this sickness is, could it already be here, ahead of us?

  He plopped down in a corner seat. His stomach grumbled, but he didn’t feel hungry. All he wanted to do was sleep until he fully recovered—or died.

  Private Spencer sat beside him. “All the sick have been brought in. Corporal Franklin is staying with them. I really think you should see a doctor.”

  “No, I’ll live.”

  “They cleared a ward and moved Harper and Deputy Morris in. They seemed to have some idea of what is going on.”

  “I’m sure they do.” Fletcher slid low in the chair. “When did we last report in?”

  Spencer shrugged.

  Fletcher cursed, fumbled for his phone, and called the armory.

  * * *

  Hansen General Hospital, Wednesday, September 23rd

  Caden awoke. He never slept during the day, but without a television, radio, or even a clock, it was easy to drift off. Wires and a tube still clung to him, but he stood and looked for his phone. Why do I leave it in random places? Such mysteries were unfathomable.

  The door creaked and Dr. Scott entered.

  “Do you need more of my blood?”

  “No. Your tests came back negative.” She wrote on a notepad. “You’ll be fine.”

  Caden knew he was fine, but it felt good to hear it from the doctor. “Can I go?”

  Without looking up from her writing, she nodded.

  “What about everyone...?” He wasn’t sure how to phrase the question.

  “Hugh Coulson died early this morning. Debra is recovering. Jake is asymptomatic, but still sedated. I want his wife awake and healthy when he wakes.”

  “What about Zach and Private Nelson?”

  “I released them two hours ago.”

  “Why did you keep me longer?”

  “Because you were resting, and even sleeping, two things you need to stay healthy.”

  He shook his head, found his pants, and slipped them on under the hospital gown.

  Dr. Scott walked toward the door.

  “Where is my phone?” Caden mumbled.

  The doctor stopped, turned to a locked cabinet, and pulled out the phone. Handing it to Caden she said, “Wouldn’t want you to lose this.”

  “Huh?” Had the doctor purposely hid his phone? She walked from the room before he could ask. After dressing, he turned the device on and called the armory. When Brooks answered Caden asked, “Any word from the First Sergeant?”

  “No, but Second Squad should be near their last reported position, so we should know something soon. Are you okay?”

  Caden walked from the room. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Dr. Scott sat at the nurse’s station in an otherwise dark and empty isolation ward. They nodded at each other as Caden left. As he pushed through the heavy wooden doors, he asked, “What’s the situation at the … hang on I have another call coming in … its First Sergeant Fletcher.”

  He poked at his phone and accidently disconnected Brooks. “First Sergeant, where are you.”

  The words came slowly. “The Morton hospital.”

  “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “Most of us have been sick, sir. Some have died.”

  Caden’s heart pounded. He stopped, and returned to the isolation ward. Dr. Scott still sat at the nurse’s station typing on a computer, but looked up as he entered. “I think we have a problem.”

  Chapter Ten

  Hansen General Hospital, Wednesday, September 23rd

  “First Sergeant, I have you on speakerphone with Dr. Scott. Describe what happened.”

  “Hello…ah sir, this is Private Spencer. The first sergeant handed me the phone. He’s kinda sick….”

  Caden frowned and looked at the doctor.

  Her brow furrowed as she hastily grabbed a pen and notepad.

  “…he was out of it for most of the last couple of days, but he is getting better…slowly. We went to this hunting lodge in the mountains southeast of Morton. We were tracking a gang that used the place as a hideout. By the time we arrived they were all dead. There were no marks on them, they all just died.”

  The doctor leaned over the phone. “I need to know when the onset of this illness occurred and about the symptoms.”

  “For the gang, I don’t know, but for us…it was like crazy quick.”

  She slumped over her pad, rubbed her forehead, and wrote. “Did you come in contact with the bodies?”

  “Yes, we put them in body bags and brought them to the back of the lodge. That night people went to bed feeling fine and woke up really sick. There was vomiting, chills, high fevers. Some were talking nuts.”

  Dr. Scott sighed. “I need to speak with the Chief Physician.”

  “Ahhhh, who?”

  Caden realized the young man had no idea who, or what, that might be. He stepped closer to the phone. “Private, who’s the senior healthy soldier?”

  “Corporal Franklin, sir.”

  The corporal was just a few years older, but should be able to find the man in charge with a little help from Dr. Scott. “Stay on the phone and find him, ASAP,” Caden ordered.

  “Yes, sir.”

  While they waited, Caden asked, “Private Spencer, have you been in contact with Second Squad? They were looking for you.”

  “No, sir, we didn’t see them. I hope they don’t know the location of the place. We started calling it Grim Reaper Lodge.”

  Caden scowled. He didn’t know if Second Squad knew the location or not, but he needed to find out. He hurried around the counter of the nurse’s station and grabbed the phone receiver. He tried to dial Brooks, but when he tapped the fifth number he heard beeping, like a rapid busy signal. Caden growled at the phone.

  Turning from her conversation, the doctor said, “Dial nine first.”

  On Caden’s next attempt Brooks came on the line. “Is Second Squad going to the hunting lodge?”

  “Yes, Deputy Philip reported it as the last location of Fletcher’s men. Are they okay?”

  Caden quickly explained what he knew about the deadly lodge. “We need to stop Second Squad.”

  “They’re at the edge of radio range now, but I’ll try to contact them.”

  When Caden again sat across from Dr. Scott, her eyes were fixed on the phone between them.
Her brow furrowed as she spoke with intensity. “No, no, no. You’ve got to isolate all of them. Didn’t you read the material from Omaha? This is a very contagious and infectious mutation.”

  “Yes, I understand that, but this is a small facility,” the voice from the phone said. “We don’t have an isolation ward and the entire building is on one ventilation system.”

  Scott threw her arms up and shouted into the phone. “Is there another building somewhere? These patients can’t have any contact with unprotected individuals.”

  “Another building? We’re barely keeping the lights on in this one.”

  “Now you listen to me. Those patients are viral bombs. Either you contain them or you’ll see the devastation spread through the town in about twelve hours. What is your decision?”

  No sound came from the phone for several moments. “We’ll stabilize the two that are sick in a separate building…somewhere…but then can we transfer them to your facility?”

  “Yes, but I doubt they will live long enough for that.” Dr. Scott looked up at Caden and mouthed, “Sorry.”

  The voice from the phone continued. “What about the recovering patients and those that remain asymptomatic?”

  “If they are stable you can transfer them to this facility.” Dr. Scott said with a sigh. “What is your plan for the bodies already there?”

  “We’ll take final samples and then cremate them.”

  After several more minutes of planning and arguing with her counterpart at the Morton hospital, Dr. Scott hung up, leaned back, closed her eyes, and sank into the chair.

  Caden retrieved his phone and, as the seconds ticked by, wondered if she had fallen asleep.

  Finally, without opening her eyes, she said, “Well, the news about Kern flu is out now.”

  “How are my soldiers doing?”

  “Six of your men are dead. One is in critical condition. The other five are either asymptomatic or, like Fletcher, recovering. The deputy is also critical.” She rubbed her chin. “I think we’re going to have a major outbreak in Morton, and probably a lot of scared people will head toward Hansen.”