Extinction 2038

by P. R. Garcia

  “The only way to enter Kenya without possibly getting shot down is from the ocean,” Commander Quill explained. “If what Mr. Fitzpatrick told you is true, that everything in the area is dead, we should be able to pick him and the birds up with no problem, except for one thing?”

  “What’s that?”

  “A plane and available pilots who are not infected with the virus. Even if the aircraft is carrying the cure, our government is not going to let sick pilots fly over our borders.”

  “You couldn’t find anyone?” a frustrated doctor asked.

  “A few,” the Commander replied. “Germany has everything we need, but there’s no way to reach the target over land. That means they would have to fly around the continent of Africa and come up into the Indian Ocean.”

  “Couldn’t they cut through the Mediterranean Sea, go over the Suez Canal and through the Red Sea to the Gulf of Aden, then down the Indian Ocean to Kenya?”

  “Not if we want the mission to be a success. We’d never get a plane passed that many countries. Not even at night.”

  “What about Okinawa?” Dr. Q asked. “That flight would be over water all the way.”

  “True, but as with many other countries, there has been no communication from Japan for the past two days. Even if we could reach our military base, no plane could carry enough fuel to make the flight,” the commander answered. “There is no base where the plane could land and refuel. And, before you even ask, we could find no one who could do an aerial refueling.” The commander saw the disappointed looks on the doctor’s face. “But, luck is apparently on your side. We were ready to scrap the mission when the President got a call from a British base in Turkey. As you may or may not know, the Brits have been designing Airlanders for the past few decades. A lot of it is top secret stuff. And they just happen to have a manufacturing facility in India.”

  “I’m not familiar with Airlanders,” Dr. Q stated.

  “They’re marvelous machines, a modernized version of the traditional blimp. They use about a third of the fuel a plane uses, can land anywhere on land or water and are quiet. Under the cloak of darkness, they should be able to sneak into Kenya and get your passengers before anyone even realizes they’re there. And even if they are detected, Airlanders can remain aloft even with numerous bullet holes in them.”

  “Are you telling me, Commander, that Operation Fitzpatrick and the birds is a go?” Doctor Q excitedly shouted.

  “We are still waiting for confirmation from the British. If it’s a go, extraction will be in two days. But do not get too overjoyed, Dr. Q. Picking them up is the easy part. Flying them all the way to Tennessee is the hard part. Not even the Airlander can fly from Kenya to the west coast of the United States without refueling.”

  “But you said no one could do an aerial refueling,” Dr. Q stated, now deeply concerned again.

  “True. But we did find someone who can do an ocean refueling.”

  “An ocean refueling?” Dr. Q asked.

  “There is a Russian submarine in the middle of the Pacific Ocean,” the Commander explained. “She’s had no contact with the outside world and, therefore, has not been exposed to the virus. She will rendezvous with the Airlander and give her half of their fuel. Hopefully, it will be enough to get her to the U.S.”

  “And if it isn’t?”

  “Then it’s over. She crashes somewhere into the Pacific Ocean.”

  “You don’t candy-coat your news either, Commander,” Dr. Q stated.

  “Something I learned from you.” The Commander smiled. “I think we’re both past hoping and just want the hard facts.”

  Dr. Q looked hard at his sister. “Wouldn’t it have been easier just to tell me you found a way to pick up our grad student and birds instead of giving me this long story?”

  “Yes, but, it wouldn’t be as much fun,” Dr. Flanagan replied, a huge smile on her face. “I owe you for a lot of crap over the years and only a day or two to get my revenge.”

  “Don’t say that, Sis.” Not wishing to think of his sister’s impending death, Dr. Q quickly changed the subject. “Any word on how much this disease has spread? You mentioned nothing has been heard from some countries for days. I assume everywhere in the Southern Hemisphere has now been exposed?”

  “Afraid so. Communications is just about nonexistent from anywhere below the equator.”

  “What about the North?”

  “The disease is spreading across Europa, the Middle East, North America and Asia. Like their southern counterparts, the major cities are becoming giant cesspools of the dead and dying. Birds and insects are dropping dead out of the sky. Aquatic life in both salt and fresh water are dying just as fast.”

  “So even if the vultures do hold the key to a cure, there might not be anyone to administer it to?” Dr. Q asked.

  “That pretty much sums it up, although so far the extreme northern regions have not been hit hard yet: Greenland, Northern Russia, the top parts of Alaska and Canada.”

  “Human population is sparse in most of those areas,” Dr. Q said. “Plus, the indigenous people there have a unique immune system separate from the majority of humanity. They may very well be the ones to survive this onslaught, to repopulate the world.”

  “Guess Mother Nature got tired of us plundering her.”

  Dr. Q laughed. “My team and I just had that very conversation yesterday. This isn’t Mother Nature’s doing, Sis. It’s mankinds. We took from her until she had no more to give. She simply doesn’t have the energy to make things right anymore. With man gone, she will rebuild the planet like before. Life will continue, hopefully for the better this time.”

  “I hope you’re right Dr. Quartermaine,” the Commander replied. “I hope to see you this evening, but if not, it’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

  “Right back at you. Thanks for everything. The best of luck, Commander.”

  “And to you. Dr. Q.” The Commander stood. “I’ll give you two sometime alone.” Without another word, he stood and left the room.

  “Well, I never thought I’d go before you,” Dr. Flanagan said, a forced smile on her face. “You always were a stubborn SOB when it came to death.”

  “Still am,” Dr. Q replied. “That’s why I’m not giving up on you. And you shouldn’t either. You might survive.”

  “And what? Float around for months, or even years, all alone on a ship of dead and decaying bodies? No thank you.”

  “Have you gotten to talk with Hubert?” Dr. Q asked. “Or Mom or Dad?”

  “No. I haven’t heard from anyone since I arrived on the ship. Hubert was going to take them out to Pappy’s people in the Outback. If they have any chance of surviving, it would be there.”

  “True,” Dr. Q said, remembering back with fondness of the time he had spent with his grandfather.

  There were a few moments of awkward silence, neither sibling knowing what to say. As scientists, they accepted the death of a colleague. But as siblings, it ripped their hearts out. Finally, Susie broke the silence. “I best go. I still have some stuff I hope to finish before, before the end. I love you, Lachlan.”

  “I love you too, Sis. Good luck.”

  The screen went dark. He had more he wanted to say, needed to say, but now he might never have the chance. Perhaps that’s the way his sister wanted it. Dr. Q just sat there, going over everything; his sister’s imminent death, their transportation off the continent gone. He never once thought the crew aboard the naval ship would get sick, or that those at the Australian Station would die. He had been so sure that somehow Gayle, Max, himself and possibly even Alex were going to survive this damn thing. But now that future was gone, disintegrated in reality. A frigid night of eternal blackness would be his and the others graves.

  He heard commotion in the kitchen, then Gayle’s voice. It was Max’s turn to fix breakfast for the lot. Gayle must be in there helping, as she sometimes did. He rose, stretching his arms out, trying to release some of the tension. As he walked toward the kitche
n, he debated if he should give them the bad news now or after breakfast. As he caught the scent of pancakes, he decided to wait until after. No sense spoiling everyone’s appetite. But if he walked into the room now they’d see the tear stains on his cheeks and know something was wrong. He dashed down the hallway to the bathroom, hoping to compose himself. Turning the faucet on, he didn’t even wait for the water to get warm. Talking handfuls of cold water, he slashed his face washing away his tears. After drying his face, he stood up and looked into the mirror. He looked horrible. His eyes were red and puffy. Everyone would know he had been crying. As he looked into the mirror at his image, the realization of the conversation came flowing back into his mind. Unable to control it, he sobbed loudly for the death of his sister, for the passing of the Admiral and his crew, for the end of the team at the Australian Station and for the imminent death now facing him. He did not hear the footsteps running toward the bathroom.

  A LONG WALK

  Later that afternoon Dr. Q tried to reach the other Station on the radio. As the Commander reported, there was no response. Were they and Captain Willis really dead? What was different about the four of them that had spared them such a gruesome death? Or would their death be just as horrible as they either starved or froze? Questions, it seemed, was all he had. Questions with no answers. Why had some species survived the mass extinction sixty-five million years ago? What made them different? Somehow, a member of each phylum had survived: dinosaurs, mammals, invertebrates, amphibians, reptiles, and insects. Why did his small team have in common with those prehistoric beings that enabled them to beat the odds?

  When he walked into the kitchen, Dr. Q was quite surprised to see Professor Stevens sitting at the table. “Alex, you look like you’re feeling better.”

  “Yes, I am,” Alex replied. “I’m still very weak from all the blood loss, but I haven’t had any new episodes of bleeding for sixteen hours.”

  “Hopefully, you’re on the road to recovery,” Dr. Q stated. He reached into the cupboard and removed four mugs, placing them on the counter. He then filled each with fresh coffee before carrying them to the table.

  “Lachlan, next time you speak with the Admiral, remind him that we must start making arrangements to leave,” Professor Stevens stated. “Winter comes pretty early down here sometimes.”

  “Remember we told you the Admiral passed away last night,” Gayle corrected her colleague.

  “Passed away?” a shocked Professor Dilbert asked. “I, I don't remember you telling me that. Was it the virus?”

  “Afraid so,” Dr. Q replied. “He started showing symptoms right after our conversation last night. The disease progressed quickly.”

  “How many others are sick?” Professor Stevens asked. He had no recollection that they had already had this conversation.

  “Sixty-two, when we spoke,” Dr. Q replied, not wanting to go over the details again. “If the disease progresses as it has been, I estimate that within thirty-six hours the U.S.S. Barack Obama will be a ship with no crew.”

  “I am so sorry to hear that,” Professor Stevens replied. “Thankfully the naval crew’s wellbeing is not contingent to our departure plans. The plan has always been to leave the same way we arrived. Captain Willis will fly us over to the coast where a cargo plane will be waiting for us. They will fly us to wherever we will be going next. I assume we can no longer fly back into Buenos Aires as originally planned.”

  “Correct, we won’t be flying back to Buenos Aires.” Dr. Q hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to proceed. He had already spoken to Max and Gayle about the current situation. And Alex had been informed several hours earlier that there might not be anyone alive to take them off the continent.

  “Were you able to reach anyone at the Australian Station?” Professor Dilbert asked.

  Dr. Q just shook his head negatively.

  “Everyone is still probably asleep,” Professor Stevens replied, hopping up and scurrying to the kitchen sink, rinsing out his coffee cup. “We should try them now. I’m sure they’d answer now. They’re probably all eating breakfast just like we are.”

  “Alex, it’s one o’clock in the afternoon,” a worried Professor Dilbert answered. She looked over at Max and Lachlan. They too had worried looks on their faces.

  “So it is,” Professor Stevens laughed. “Have you seen Frank or Cindy? They're supposed to go with us today out to the dig. Where are those kids? They better not be still sleeping. I won’t wait for them. I’ll take Paul and Tim instead. I will.”

  “Maybe you should go lay back down while you wait,” Dr. Q suggested. “The sun’s always shining here, so there’s plenty of time to go out to the dig. Let them sleep a little longer.”

  “Yes, let them rest,” Gayle added, as she and Lachlan led the professor back to his room. They helped him to bed, wrapping his blanket securely around him. Gayle felt his forehead. “He’s burning up.”

  “I’ll get the medicine,” Lachlan stated, then hurried out of the room. He returned quickly, injecting the professor with medication to help bring down his fever.

  “I’ll stay with him for awhile to make sure his temperature comes down,” Gayle said, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

  “Lachlan, you know we can’t survive the winter here in the Station,” Professor Stevens quietly said. Then he drifted off to sleep.

  “Need anything?” Dr. Q asked his fiancée.

  “Just hope.” He leaned down and gently kissed her, then walked out to the kitchen.

  “Doc, what are we going to do?” Max asked.

  “The only thing we can - go to the Australian Station,” Dr. Q stated. “It’s only about ninety miles. If we leave first thing tomorrow, we can reach the Station in four, maybe five days.”

  “But Professor Stevens can’t make the journey,” Max replied. “He’s way too ill.”

  “We’ll make some kind of litter and carry him,” Dr. Q said. “Do you know if the thermal tents are still in the storage room?”

  “No, but I can look.”

  “There’s only one,” Gayle said as she entered the room. “He’s sleeping, so I decided I did want some coffee. We used the other one at the dig site. But the one here is plenty big enough for us four.”

  “Gayle, before we leave you must realize there’s a good chance Alex can’t make the journey,” Dr. Q finally said, hating the look she gave him. “If we try to take him, he’ll slow us down. He’s already in the final stages of this disease. If he gets any worse, we may have to leave him behind.”

  “No, I won’t leave him,” shouted Professor Dilbert. “Not to die alone. I can’t believe you would even say such a thing, Lachlan. He isn't bleeding anymore. He’s going to be okay.”

  “Gayle, he’s right,” Max said.

  “No,” she screamed, then ran from the room.

  Dr. Q went to follow her, but Max stopped him. “I think she needs some alone time. Doc, what happens if we get to the other Station and everyone really is dead?”

  “Then we’ll just have to survive the winter there and hope for the best in the spring,” Dr. Q stated.

  Gayle said little to the doctor the remainder of the day. She was still so angry with him for suggesting that they leave Alex behind. She knew he was only thinking about saving her and Max, but this was Alex they were speaking about. He was like the brother she never had.

  Later that afternoon, Dr. Q stopped in to see how Alex was doing. He was glad to see his fever was down and he was sitting up in bed reading. “You three need to start getting ready to leave tomorrow. There’s a small sled in the storage room, as well as field rations, a small stove and blankets. You should take a few vials of my blood with you too. I must have some kind of immunity to this damn virus since it hasn’t managed to completely kill me yet. Maybe it will help with your research.”

  “You know, Alex, Gayle is not going to leave you behind,” Dr. Q said.

  “But she must,” Alex replied. “I’m not going to survive more than a f
ew more days. My strength is already gone. You go and get ready to leave. I’ll make sure Gayle goes with you.”

  Max tried the ship and Aussie Station one more time before disconnecting the computer. Thankfully, he had made it a habit to backup all of their research onto disks, so it only took him a few minutes to gather all their research. He wrapped them in a water-proof case and placed them at the end of the desk. He would carry them inside his suit to ensure they were not damaged by the cold. The laptop would ride in his backpack. Once their research and computer were packed and ready to go, Max hurried down to the storage area. He stopped when he opened the door and saw the bodies of the deceased students lying inside.

  “Crap, I forgot about you guys being inside,” Max said, staring at the bodies.

  “I’ll get the stuff in here,” Dr. Q stated as he walked up. “You go see what food we can take from the kitchen.”

  “No, I have the feeling I’m going to be seeing a lot of dead bodies in the future,” Max replied. “Best get used to it now.”

  “Tell you what? How about we both go inside. Two will make the time go faster than just one.”

  The two entered, carefully stepping over any frozen puddles of blood. They were able to find everything they needed except for the most important – the thermal tent. Without it, they’d freeze to death their first night outside. They searched everywhere, but the tent was nowhere to be found. Knowing there was only one more place to look, the professor and Max carefully moved the bodies away from the side wall one by one. Even though the bodies were frozen, the smell of old blood till permeated their nostrils. After the last body was moved they discovered the tent was not behind them either.

  “Where could it be?”

  “Maybe Alex or Gayle know,” Dr. Q said. “I’ll go ask them. You get everything loaded on the sled.”