by Perrin Briar
“How long will it take?” Richard said.
He already knew the answer, but sometimes it was good to hear it anyway.
“Eight hours,” Susan said. “Give or take.”
“I sincerely hope it gives,” Richard said. “We need this cure made and distributed to the world as soon as possible.”
“We just have to hope the virus doesn’t spread too fast,” Susan said.
“And hope Archie can actually formulate a cure,” Phil said.
It was an awful lot of blind hope. But what other choice did they have?
They stood back and watched Archie, his arms moving in perfect synchronicity. They were potentially looking at the world’s only hope for a cure.
“The situation we were planning for…” Richard said. “It’s already happening.”
“We should inform somebody,” Susan said.
“Who?” Richard said.
“Everyone,” Susan said.
“I don’t think you need to worry,” Phil said. “They already know.”
He was staring at a TV monitor. Somewhere in the land of the free a fire had been ignited, birthing a dirty gray-black column that rose like a portal to hell. From its gaping jaws, the lumbering lurching creatures emerged.
Behind them, Archie’s arms spun and revolved, attempting to create a brew that could save them, if only the research center could last long enough.
Unfortunately for them, more bad news was already heading their way.
Z-MINUS: 7 hours 53 minutes
The US army set blockades around New York, choking the lifeblood traffic to a dribble. Helicopters hovered overhead and scanned the city streets. Long queues were evacuating the city, out of every exit, purging like blood from an open wound. Vehicles were packed with possessions from their old lives. The army checked them with handheld thermometers as they passed, but there were so many evacuees it was difficult to do a thorough job.
Richard changed the channel. More images of the stricken city. No one was entirely sure what was happening, but since the army had taken action there seemed to be less violence on the streets. Another channel. A behavioral expert sat on the panel speaking to the anchor.
“What do you think has suddenly caused all these people to begin acting this way?” the anchor said.
“Repression,” the expert said. “Years of repressing anger and fear from a government that has been taking opportunities away from them. You’ll notice the majority of the attackers are young men and women.”
“What about the eating of flesh and blood of others?” the anchor said. “What accounts for that?”
“By consuming others the attackers believe they are removing their competition and consuming the skills of others,” the expert said. “These are not normal functioning human beings.”
“I’m certainly glad we have you here to tell us that,” the anchor said, straight-faced.
The expert only nodded, serious expression in place.
Richard changed the channel again.
“It’s on every channel,” he said.
Except one. Reporters stood waiting on an airport runway. It was still business as usual in some parts of the world.
“After the hostilities between the US and Cuba thawed in recent years,” a reporter said, “rock and roll icons the Rolling Stones were excited to host a free concert after their sold-out show in New York. Rock and roll was banned in Cuba for many years. This marks a historic day in relations between the two countries.”
The airplane door opened and the Rolling Stones disembarked. They looked rough, blinking against the bright sunlight. Perhaps they’d been partying hard on the plane.
They descended the steps to the runway, barely managing to catch themselves with each step. The photographers’ cameras flashed. The reporters leaned in close.
“Mick, how does it feel to be in Cuba?” the reporter said.
Mick turned to him, cocked his head to one side, opened his famous mouth wide and bit a chunk out of the reporter’s neck. Blood squirted over the assembled, who screamed as the rest of the band fell upon them. The camera jerked side to side as the cameraman ran.
“It’s out of New York,” Richard said. “Outside the U.S.”
Their problems had just gotten a whole lot worse. A virus was easier to control when it was contained within a single area. If it had gone international…
“It’s going to get here,” Phil said. “Isn’t it? It’s going to get to us.”
“It’s a real-life test,” Richard said.
“Except we haven’t got all the other facilities built or online yet,” Susan said. “Otherwise we would have a lot more information than we currently do. We’re in the dark.”
“We have some time,” Richard said.
“The plane the Rolling Stones came on was from New York,” Susan said. “Who knows how they caught the virus. Maybe they already had it. Maybe everyone at the concert was infected… And now they’re going to take it back home to their friends and family. Before long the cordons the army set up will act more like cages.”
“Then why hasn’t the virus already started spreading?” Richard said. “We should be seeing the virus all over the country by now.”
“Maybe it has an incubation period,” Susan said. “Maybe it takes time for the virus to spread and infect someone.”
“I hope so,” Richard said. “I hope it’s several years.”
Unlikely, Susan thought, but she didn’t want to cast an even darker spell on their mood.
“We need to make preparations,” Susan said.
“What preparations?” Richard said. “We’ll have the cure by the time the virus gets to us.”
“We can’t know that,” Susan said. “And we certainly shouldn’t be depending on it.”
“Then what are you suggesting?” Richard said.
How could Richard be so naïve? They couldn’t blindly hope for the best. They needed to act, and act fast. Otherwise the virus was going to be on them and there would be nothing they could do to keep it in check.
“New York will soon be overrun with them,” Susan said. “And look at the Rolling Stones. If others were infected at the concert, then the virus is already amongst us. Anyone who was in New York recently could have it. Someone here could have it. Some of the investors who came here today could have it. We don’t know.”
Phil’s eyes grew wider the longer Susan spoke. By the end, his eyes were like saucers. He wiped his hands unconsciously on the front of his jacket, feeling dirty, like the virus might be on him now.
“What about the media?” Phil said. “Shouldn’t we be informing them we’ve got information on the virus? They could get the word out, inform people.”
“Cause a panic, more like,” Susan said. “Since when has the media ever not stirred up a shit storm once they’ve been given breaking news?”
Susan wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from there, to grab Amy and remove her from harm. But she didn’t need to worry. Rosario would take good care of her. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
“No,” Susan heard herself say. “The virus is already on its way. No matter what happens, we have to stay here. We can’t leave. Not yet. Not until Archie has made a cure. We have the weapon that will stop the virus in its tracks. It could save millions of lives. We can’t leave now.”
“God,” Phil said. “She’s right. I wish she wasn’t, but she is.”
He ran a hand through his long hair. He walked away, then turned and walked back, a lost boy.
“What are you suggesting we do?” Richard said. “Stay here while those things come get us?”
“If Archie’s here, we’re here,” Susan said. “This has to remain a secret for as long as we can maintain it.”
Richard looked over at Phil, who was mumbling to himself and shaking his head.
“Do you think we can rely on him to keep it a secret?” Richard said in a low voice.
“Of all of us, I think he’s the only one we
can rely on,” Susan said.
Z-MINUS: 7 hours 32 minutes
Richard called the hospital manager, a close friend, and explained to him what was happening in New York and how they expected it to hit the city of Charlotte within hours. The patients would be sitting ducks. The manager believed Richard, but maintained he could not simply have the patients moved. He promised to call his boss and get his approval before making any decisions. In short, he didn’t want to be blamed if the virus didn’t reach them. Richard hung up and explained the situation.
“What can we do?” Richard said. “We can’t make them evacuate.”
Susan came up short. The hospital wasn’t their responsibility. They would have protocols in place to deal with an emergency.
“What about our patients?” Richard said. “They’ll be doomed the minute the infected get here.”
“We’ll evacuate them,” Susan said. “All of them. We have to send them away.”
“They’re our responsibility,” Phil said. “We can get them somewhere safe.”
“But we haven’t got anything to take them away in!” Richard said.
“I know someone,” Phil said. “My friends. They’ve got a van we could use. But where would we send them?”
“Anywhere far from here,” Susan said. “To the remote center on the outskirts of town. Take them there.”
“I’ll give them a call,” Phil said, reaching into his pocket.
“Are they reliable?” Susan said.
Phil shrugged.
“They’ve never let me down before,” he said.
What other choice did they have?
“Call them,” Susan said.
Phil put his cell to his ear.
“Hey man,” he said. “It’s Phil. You know, Bong Phil. Yeah, I’m good, man. You? I’m sorry to hear you failed to get into the final of Battle of the Bands. Listen, I need a favor. I need you to bring your van to the research center. Can you do that? I need you to take some people somewhere. Do this, and I’ll get you all the bongs you want. Hey, and lay off the grass on your way over, will you? This is an important mission. Later.”
Phil hung up.
“They’re on their way,” he said.
Susan just looked at him.
“What?” Phil said.
Susan shook her head. Beggars can’t be choosers.
“Make sure they’re here within the hour,” Susan said.
“We ought to get the patients up and ready to leave,” Richard said.
“I’ll speak to Steve,” Susan said. “You get the kids.”
“All right, but be quick,” Richard said.
Susan hustled down the accommodation corridor to the door at the end. She turned the handle and entered.
They were communal sleeping areas, like a regular wing in a hospital. Snores filled the room, others chomping with empty mouths like they were eating in their sleep. Rehabilitation was an exhausting process. Sometimes subjects had to have two or three naps a day.
Steve’s bed was closest to the door. Susan creeped up to it and gently shook him awake.
“Hmph?” Steve said. “What’s going on?”
“There might be a bit of a crisis,” Susan said. “We need to get you and the others out of here.”
Steve appraised Susan’s expression and seemed to find something there. His training had burned the need for unnecessary questions out of his mind. It was a time for action, not explanation.
He threw back his sheets and sat on the edge of his bed. Susan handed him his prosthetic arm and kneeled down to help him with the straps.
Steve looked down at Susan.
“While you’re down there…” he said.
Susan shook her head.
“You’re incorrigible,” she said. “Maybe if we get through this I can find someone to accommodate you.”
Her comment had the opposite effect to the one she’d intended. Steve frowned, deep creases in his forehead like a street map.
“If we get through this?” he said. “Through what?”
Susan weighed Steve up. He was used to taking orders and not being told every piece of information. She could get away with not telling him what she knew. But this was not the military, and Susan had more respect for him than that.
“A virus may have broken out,” Susan said. “It was in New York, but we believe it’s already spreading across the world. It might even already be here in Charlotte.”
Steve blinked at the bluntness of the information.
“Okay…” he said.
He took a moment to gather himself, and then wordlessly put on his pants.
Susan stepped back into the hallway. She heard the rumble of Steve’s voice through the wall as he woke the others.
Susan opened her cell and dialed Rosario’s number. The phone rang and rang. Susan felt a tightening in her chest. What if the virus had already seized Charlotte’s suburbs? Please let them be okay.
Finally, and with much relief, the phone was answered.
“Rosario?” Susan said. “It’s Susan. No, everything is fine. Well, actually…”
She took a deep breath. How was she going to ask Rosario to do what she needed her to do without telling her why? Would Rosario blindly trust her? If she told Rosario the truth, could she trust Rosario not to reach out and tell everyone she knew? And how long before one of her friends called the news? They couldn’t risk news of the outbreak coming out just yet. It would cause a panic and do more harm than good.
“Rosario,” Susan said with a voice that sounded much more confident than she felt. “Something’s wrong, something big. And if it goes the way we think it might, then you’ll need to get somewhere safe. I can’t tell you what’s going to happen. I just need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
“Of course I can,” Rosario said. “Fool child.”
Susan smiled. Her shoulders relaxed. She hesitated about what she was going to say next.
“That man who answered the phone earlier,” she said. “Is he important to you?”
“No, not really,” Rosario said. “He’s just someone who keeps me company sometimes.”
Way more information than Susan needed.
“Okay,” Susan said. “The chances are he’ll be fine anyway. Look, I want you to take Amy to my house in the country. You went there once with us, remember? The place with the tall ash tree. The address is pinned to the corkboard in the kitchen. I want you to take my car and drive over there. No, not in the morning. Now. Go right now. Stick to the speed limits and you should be fine. It might be nothing, but I would feel a lot better if you and Amy were far away from it.”
Rosario was silent a moment.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. But you’d better have a damn good excuse for making me skip town.”
It was one of the few rare times Susan had heard the woman swear, so she knew she was taking it seriously. Susan put her cell down and breathed a sigh of relief. It was all she could do to protect Amy at the moment.
She rushed down the corridor. Everything was happening so fast. Was it right for her to make special allowances for herself and not warn the rest of the east coast? For once, she didn’t care. Amy was going to be safe. That was all that mattered.
Boom!
A hollow explosion, thundering and loud. It sent a tremor through the ground. Susan ran to the glass wall of the research facility, joining Phil. They turned to look in the direction of the noise. It was far, but there was clearly a wisp of smoke rising into the sky.
“Where is that coming from?” Susan said.
“From the other side of town,” Phil said. “No. Farther than that. It must be forty, maybe fifty, miles out.”
“News just in,” the announcer on the news said. “We are receiving reports of explosions in Uwharrie forest just a few moments ago. Details are sketchy at this time, but there appears to be smoke rising from the forest canopy.”
Shaky handheld footage, from what appeared to be almost from their own location, appeared
on the screen. White smoke tickled the sky, illuminated in profile by flickering yellow flames.
“I think it’s safe to say the truth of the virus is out,” Phil said. “Or if it’s not, it soon will be.”
Z-MINUS: 6 hours 59 minutes
A cold finger traced up Susan’s spine. They’d made a terrible mistake. They should have warned people, should have told the media, should have gotten word out. No matter how much panic the media caused it wouldn’t have been as bad as this. At least then people might have stood a chance at protecting themselves. Now, it was too late.
Many people would be settling down for the evening, comfortable and warm, bellies full of delicious food, ready to be entertained by the latest episode of their favorite TV show. Something would rap on their windows and doors. They would open them to find someone standing there, something from their worst nightmares birthed into reality.
Screams rang into the night. In the distance, small bangs like punctuation. Collisions and screeching wheels signaled the approach of what Susan knew would be the riot-like behavior she’d seen on TV.
They needed to hurry if they were going to get the patients out of the research center in time. The hospital was awake now, alive with energy. But they clearly had no plan to evacuate their patients. They would hold fast. It was not in the nature of hospitals and care workers to dispose of the people in their care.
Susan led a conga line of children in hospital gowns out the research center’s main entrance. Richard followed behind, pushing a girl in a wheelchair. Phil, Steve, and the other soldiers helped the adult patients.
Phil’s friends turned up in a beaten-up old van that had graffiti scrawled over the sides. Phil’s friends were no more kempt. They had tattoos up their arms and necks and piercings through every available patch of skin. Susan pulled Phil aside and looked at him askance.
“Are you sure we can trust them?” she said.
“They’re as good as their word,” Phil said. “They might look a little rough around the edges, but they have hearts of gold.”
Phil had a lot more faith in his friends than Susan did. Phil’s friends looked at the robed figures with uncertainty and cast accusing glances at Phil. But they weren’t without manners. They opened the van doors and helped the patients into the back.
