Point Of Transmission: A Post-Apocalyptic Epidemic Survival (The Morgan Strain Series Book 1)

by Max Lockwood

  Bretton’s stomach hurt. He wanted to get out of the office as quickly as possible.

  “Is there anything else you need to know?” Bretton asked. “I was planning on staying late at the lab today.”

  “No, that’s it,” the colonel said, looking disappointed. “Let’s meet in four days’ time. I need to know if any progress is being made.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, standing up from his chair.

  With shaky legs, he made his way back to the lab. Before he could return to his workbench, a voice whispered to him from the other side of the hall.

  “Doctor Vincent,” a man whispered.

  Bretton hadn’t seen this man before. There were people entering and exiting the base all the time. If Bretton wasn’t working directly with them, he didn’t take the time to get to know them.

  This man didn’t look like the other soldiers. He was dressed in a navy blue suit and had slicked back blonde hair.

  “If it’s okay, I’d like to have a word with you,” the man said in a low voice.

  It was suspicious to Bretton that the man seemed so secretive, but they were working on a secret operation. There was a lot that Bretton didn’t understand about military work.

  “Sure,” he said, stepping into the small office.

  “My name is Agent Stephens,” he said, offering his slender hand to Bretton. He shook it and sat down in his chair.

  “I understand that you’re working on a vaccine for the Morgan Strain, correct.”

  “Yes,” Bretton answered shakily. He wasn’t sure who was given clearance to know about it, but the man seemed like he knew a lot. He felt like he could probably trust him.

  “You’re not having much luck, are you?” the man said sympathetically.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Bretton fired back, trying to defend himself. “It’s a difficult subject to work with.”

  “Oh, no doubt. I was wondering about something concerning the virus. Just a few quick questions.”

  “Shoot,” Bretton said.

  “In your very professional opinion, would you say that the virus could be altered to become easier to control?”

  “I’m sure that’s possible,” Bretton said. After all, he had messed with it and made it harder to control. He figured he could mess with it again and have different results.

  “What I had in mind was something practical—something that didn’t spread like usual illnesses. Something that could maybe even change the body on a DNA level?”

  “Oh, I’m sure of it,” Bretton said haughtily. “I bet you I could made a strain of this virus that wouldn’t do anything but give you the monster strength without the rage. I could probably make it so it only gave the fatigue without the rage. There’s no telling what this thing could be.”

  “That sounds very promising,” Agent Stephens said. “You’re a brilliant scientist, Doctor Vincent. I’d like it if you did a little job for me.”

  Bretton beamed. Finally, someone was giving him the attention he deserved.

  “What is it?”

  “We’d like to see you make this nasty virus into something the military can use. It will be extremely secret though, so I’m afraid you won’t be able to ever write about it in a journal.”

  Bretton frowned. “Then what’s in it for me?”

  “We can offer you protection that’s unparalleled. Maybe even better than top officials get. Plus, there’s money. You might never have to work again.”

  Bretton hid his smile. He was ready to sign any contract that he needed to. He could do without the fame for now as long as he could ensure that he would be safe.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Will eagerly peered over the steering wheel, adjusting the seat for his short stature. Alec was quite a bit taller than him, so he fiddled with the levers until he was ready.

  “Go ahead and adjust the mirrors, too,” Alec reminded him, having seen a few accidents caused by reckless teenagers. His truck wasn’t particularly nice, but it was the only one he had. He didn’t want it to be totaled while riding along helplessly in the passenger seat.

  “I used to have a truck like this,” Will mentioned as he strapped his seatbelt on.

  “Yeah?” Alec asked, pouring a few of the pain pills from Will’s house into his hand.

  “It was stolen,” he said. “It was the day after my parents died. It just disappeared from the driveway. I guess I have to take some of the blame for it—I left the keys in the ignition.

  “In our neighborhood?” Alec scoffed.

  “You should have seen my truck. Trust me, I’m sure whoever stole it is sorry. It probably broke down halfway out of town.”

  Alec didn’t know if he should feel offended that the kid was comparing his truck to a run-down piece of crap. Alec didn’t have a lot of money as he was just starting in his career. He didn’t really care about status symbols like cars and clothes. He just needed the basics to get by. That’s how he was raised, and that’s how he planned to live his life.

  “Alrighty, then,” Will said, turning the keys in the ignition. “We have a full tank of gas—that’s a promising sign. Where are we going to go?”

  “What?” Alec asked, unwrapping his bandages. The bleeding had nearly stopped, but the pain had yet to subside and he still felt a little woozy.

  “Where should we look first? For the girls, I mean. What were their names, again?”

  “Lainey and Natalia. Natalia’s short and scrawny, about your age. Lainey is—”

  His mind was momentarily lost in thought about the older girl. How could he describe her smooth, porcelain skin, gentle eyes, and long, silky hair to Will? How could he do her description justice without sounding like a kid with a crush on someone way out of his league?”

  “Hey,” Will said, snapping his fingers. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Alec said, snapping to attention. “Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve been silently staring into space for about a minute now. I asked you what Lainey looks like.”

  “Oh, right. Uh, she’s pale, kinda freckly, and has long, brown hair. She was wearing a Seahawks hat the last time I saw her.”

  “Got it. So basically, if we see two girls walking together and they don’t look infected, then it’s probably them.”

  “Sure,” Alec said.

  Will put the car into reverse, pulling out of the driveway. “Where to?”

  “I—I don’t know,” Alec said.

  “Oh, God, did I knock your memory loose? Oh, shit, this is bad. Do you remember my name? What’s your last name?”

  “Shut up, smart ass,” Alec responded. “I’m trying to think.”

  “Well, where were you guys planning on going next?”

  “We didn’t have any plans. We were just going to get in my truck and look for a good opportunity.”

  Alec was furious with himself for not doing any more planning when they still had the chance. All he would have had to do was listen to where they wanted to go, and then he’d have a good starting place. But now, they could be anywhere. It had been hours since he had last seen them.

  “That’s not a problem,” Will said, sensing Alec’s rising frustration. “What do you know about them? Is there somewhere they would want to go? Maybe a favorite part of town? Maybe like a school or a library or something? Or were they trying to get out of town and make a run for it?”

  Alec shook his head. He didn’t know anything about the girls and was a little embarrassed that he didn’t know much more about them than Will did.

  “That’s okay, man,” he said, giving Alec a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Why don’t we just start looking in the area? If they’re on foot, they couldn’t have gotten too far. We’ll cruise around the area and keep an eye out for them.”

  “Yeah, let’s go,” Alec said. “I’d like to get a good start before it gets dark.”

  Will took off, driving a little too fast for Alec’s comfort. He didn’t blame the kid—there was something exhilarating about fly
ing down empty streets, not having to worry about traffic. Most people had the good sense to leave the city days ago once the virus showed no signs of being under control.

  They drove through deserted residential areas, circling through culs-de-sac and cruising down windy streets. Will scanned the road ahead of him as Alec stared deeply between homes, hoping he’d catch a glimpse of Elaina’s grey jacket disappearing between two houses.

  Alec continued to pop a variety of pills into his mouth to keep the pain from his head at a manageable roar, but also to keep him awake and alert. He so badly wanted to close his eyes, but he knew the second he did, he’d miss the girls. The warm, cozy air from the cab of the truck, the quiet hum of the engine, and the gentle motion of the vehicle was trying to lull him to sleep. He fought heavy lids until he couldn’t fight them anymore.

  “Unless they’re posting up inside one of these houses, I don’t think they’re around here. They move quickly,” Will said, jolting Alec back to consciousness.

  “Crap, was I asleep?” Alec asked, wiping the drool from the side of his face.

  “Yeah,” Will said softly. “I was going to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful. I thought you could use a little rest.”

  “What if we missed them?”

  “Relax, you were only out for about twenty minutes. I doubt they’re in this area anyway. It’s too residential. I’m willing to bet that they ventured out into something more commercial. More supplies, you know?”

  Alec frowned. He felt guilty with his bag of food and drinks in the truck when the girls were so hungry and dehydrated. Wherever they were, they must have been absolutely famished, he worried.

  “You don’t think it would be crazy if we stopped at a McDonald’s along the way?” Will asked, testing the waters. “I could go for a Big Mac and some fries right now.”

  “Do you really think that there’s any of them that are open?” Alec asked incredulously. He was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with the kid, apart from a little PTSD.

  “I know there probably aren’t any functioning ones, but we could always pop in and cook something up from the fridge. You know that stuff’s preserved to last through the apocalypse.”

  “I highly doubt it,” Alec said, his stomach reminding him that he hadn’t had much to eat. “You’d be the only moron to die of food poisoning in the middle of an epidemic.”

  “I doubt I’d be the only one,” he said darkly. “What do you think is going to happen when there’s no electricity to keep the food safe? I guarantee there will be a lot of people desperate to eat the last of their food and take a risk. Besides, food poisoning is probably a lot safer than leaving your house to get food.”

  Alec went quiet. This kid was not doing his conscience any favors.

  “Oh, I know what we could do,” Will offered. “Turn on the radio.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, you’ll get a kick out of this.”

  He pushed the volume button and fiddled around with the tuner.

  “Okay, here’s the Top 40 station.”

  Alec listened, wondering if Will was having a psychotic break.

  “It’s just static. There’s nothing playing.”

  “I know! This is such a popular station, too. They didn’t even bother to leave a running playlist. You know that’s all they do there—the songs are always the same. But no, they shut that whole thing down.”

  Will flipped through a few more stations to illustrate his point. All of the stations, classic rock, metal, jazz, even local news were nothing but static. In the middle of Will’s channel-changing, Alec swore he heard a few words.

  “Wait, what was that one? Go back.”

  Will slowly pushed the scan button until he found what Alec was talking about. The voice was intermixed with the buzz of static, but it was still audible.

  “Dude,” Will said, “I think this is National Radio.”

  He twisted the knob until they could clearly hear what the monotone voice was saying.

  We’re continuing to get updates from Seattle, Washington, the epicenter of the Morgan Strain outbreak. Understanding the size and scope of this disaster has been difficult, as many city officials have evacuated the city, despite telling their own citizens to stay where they are. We’ll be spending this hour talking about what happened in Seattle and what’s to come for the bayside city. Milton James has more.

  A classical piano interlude played, and Alec and Will exchanged surprised glances. For them, it felt like everything had happened so quickly, yet National Radio was dedicating an entire show to their precarious situation.

  I’m standing near the Space Needle in Seattle, wearing a full plastic suit, as if I were visiting an alien planet. If it weren’t for the towering landmark, I might forget that I’m in the state’s largest city and not in the middle of a warzone. Destruction is everywhere—smoke rises from fires in the distance, crushed cars sit parked in the middle of the street, and rubble crunches under my feet. It’s hard to believe that this was the result of a virus released from a university laboratory.

  In order to gain access to the city, I had to gain permission from the United States Military. They insisted that I wear the proper protective suit of their design, much like the one that would be worn in the event of chemical warfare.

  Along with my safety suit, I am required to be accompanied by armed soldiers. When they first told me this, I laughed at them. Then I realized that it wasn’t a joke.

  You see, there are many strange symptoms of this new-age virus. First, symptoms start off fairly mild. In fact, many sufferers believed they came down with the flu, packing doctor’s offices with sick people. Then, symptoms intensified. The victims felt extreme fatigue, horrible nausea, diarrhea, and coughing fits.

  These symptoms led to death in children and young adolescents, as their frail bodies would not respond to fluids. However, adults faced a fate that no one could see coming.

  Because the virus is so new, no one has had the chance to really study and understand its effects on the human body. Thus, no one can explain why it causes madness in adults.

  It’s widely reported that the infected in later stages of the virus will undergo a complete personality change. They do not respond to reason and become highly agitated. Once they’re upset, there’s no telling what they can do. In fact, much of the destruction I see is caused by the moments of rage, a source tells me. These infected individuals are liable to attack healthy people, spreading the illness, if not killing them. Hence, my armed guards.

  “This can’t be great for tourism,” Will joked. Alec shushed him.

  The report went on, telling them everything they already knew about the virus and its alleged release from the lab. Then, the report mentioned something they hadn’t thought much about.

  We talked to a member of the National Guard assigned to securing the perimeter. For reasons you’ll soon understand, we cannot disclose any information about them, as they are bound to secrecy. So, this interview will be read by Derek, an actor. Can you tell us some of the things you’ve heard about the state of the city at the current moment?

  Sure, an eager voice replied, no doubt a young actor doing his first gig. The city had strongly recommended its citizens to stay where they are and not evacuate, yet all citizens of special importance, like the mayor, left weeks ago. But since the spread of the virus, we have now been ordered to make sure that no one enters or exits a twenty-mile radius of the city limits. In fact, if you drive down the road, you’ll see armed military keeping anyone from going through in either direction.

  “So we’re trapped?” Will breathed.

  “No, that’s not possible,” Alec responded, though with little confidence.

  Though our source says that the perimeter is being guarded, that doesn’t mean that rule is being enforced.

  Money, the actor read. If you have enough money to pay one of the members of the Guard, you can get through. Unfortunately for the working class, unless you rob a bank, y
ou’re not getting through.

  Alec put his head in his hands. That explained a lot of the theft in the area and a motive for people to commit crimes even though they were perfectly healthy. This one was the government’s fault. As a public servant, he felt so ashamed of his superiors whom he’d adamantly defended in times of controversy.

  But don’t think that will continue, the reporter said. Word is, the soldiers assigned to protect the rest of the country from the city have been told that there are no uninfected survivors left. At best, if you venture to the border, you’ll be turned away. At worst, you’ll be shot on sight, no questions asked. It appears that the world has given up on Seattle in hopes that diverging more resources to minor breakouts will keep it from spreading beyond control.

  “We’re screwed,” Will said, slumping over in his seat. “You heard that report. What options do we have if we can’t leave the city and go somewhere safer?”

  Alec shrugged. “The infected will die off eventually. We just have to wait it out.”

  “It mutates, though. What if the symptoms change and the rage period lasts months, not days?”

  “We’ll just keep moving until it clears up. We have to try.”

  The boy nodded, sitting up a little straighter. “You’re right. It’s just you and me against the world, Alec. We’re not quitters.”

  “No, we’re not,” Alec answered. “And I’m not going to give up on those girls either.”

  “Do you remember anything about where they wanted to go?”

  Alec thought for a minute, remembering one debate that went nowhere.

  “Lainey wanted to go to a hospital. I think she wanted to be somewhere with a backup generator.”

  Will winced. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea. A hospital is a good place to find a virus.”

  “That’s what I was trying to tell her. I don’t know if she believed me.”

  “If that’s the case, they might be dead. I wouldn’t be surprised. They had a good run, though. There should be a memorial or a record board for anyone who stayed here and survived for more than a few days.”