by Robin Crumby
“Must have been before my time.” Heather shrugged.
“When they were doing their PR campaigns in all the national newspapers in the 1980s, I got interviewed in the Daily Telegraph and The Guardian. They even did a piece in Vogue magazine, if you can believe that.”
Riley angled her body back towards Adele, but the man continued undeterred. He seemed determined to make the most of the opportunity to talk.
“Back in the day, they used to advertise a week’s stay at the CCRU as the best package holiday anywhere. All sorts were going there. Students, small groups, married couples, all getting away from it, earning a bit of spare cash, staying in nice accommodation. We all thought we were doing our bit, helping science develop a cure for the common cold. Little did we know it would all end up like this.”
“What do you mean?”
He leaned across and lowered his voice. “No one really believed they were trying to find a cure for the cold. They were testing all these different strains, trying to find out more about the virus.”
“I don’t understand. Why did you volunteer if you suspected they had ulterior motives?”
“I’ve never really thought about it.” He shrugged. “But I’d do it again in an instant. That’s why we volunteer, isn’t it? If a few years less of my life might mean I can help save others, then it’s a small sacrifice, don’t you think?” He rolled his head back against the pillow and struggled to catch his breath as if the effort of the conversation was all too much for him.
Riley was startled by a loud noise outside their building and the distant wail of a siren. Looking outside, she couldn’t see anything unusual and returned to her seat. She had always wondered what made people like him put themselves forward for human trials. The naivety of the volunteer surprised her. She remembered Zed’s barely believable stories about clandestine weapons testing up at Porton Down. By all accounts, after the war, the search for a cure for the common cold had been a cover story for countless chemical and biological weapons programmes. Zed had suggested there were dozens of conspiracy theories swirling around at that time.
She thought back to the waiver she had signed for Adele to take part in the trial. Riley wondered whether the volunteers were ever truly made aware of the risks they were exposing themselves to. Without that knowledge, could volunteers ever be said to have given their informed consent? She doubted it.
It made her deeply suspicious of what was really going on at Porton Down and St Mary’s. Hearing the sister liken them to Sodom and Gomorrah had struck a chord. Volunteers like Adele were expendable. Their suffering or death was an acceptable price to pay in the search for a vaccine.
The siren outside continued unabated and Riley went to ask the nurse what was going on.
“It’s probably just another drill. They do them all the time here.”
Through bitter experience, Riley knew better than to ignore a warning. She grabbed Heather by the hand and hurried down the stairs to the main entrance. There was a small group of soldiers barking orders at the receptionist as they approached, pointing towards the main gate.
“What’s going on, corporal?” she asked the man standing nearby, who looked a little flustered.
“We’re getting reports of a security situation on the island. The base is on lockdown until we know more.”
Heather and Riley backed away slowly towards the stairs.
“You said we’d be safe here with all the soldiers around.”
“I know, Heather. Like he said, I’m sure it’s just a precaution.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Riley and Heather stood outside the main building at St Mary’s watching a flurry of activity. Soldiers were hurrying from one end of the complex to the other, laden with weapons and equipment. The pair felt like spare wheels, wondering what they could do to help.
“I thought you’d be long gone by now,” said Riley, noticing Sister Imelda striding back towards them.
“So did I. They’ve told me I can’t leave. No one’s allowed in or out,” she said, bustling towards the staircase. “I’m going to take it up with the captain. They can’t hold me against my will, it’s outrageous.”
“Did they give a reason?”
“I don’t think they know themselves,” she said, making a beeline for the reception desk. “They’re just following orders.”
They followed the sister back inside as she fought her way to the front of the line, nudging military personnel out of the way.
“I need to speak to the captain,” she demanded of the receptionist.
“He’s in the main office.” She pointed down the road. “Third building on your right-hand side.”
All three of them bustled up the road, passing a long line of vehicles moving slowly towards the front gate. Above the distant wail of the siren, the unmistakable sound of a belligerent mob could be heard.
At the entrance to the command centre, a single guard watched their approach with some suspicion.
“IDs, please?” he insisted.
Riley went through the motions of checking her pockets and made as if she had forgotten hers.
“No pass, no entry. You know the rules, ladies.”
Turning her back on the guard, Riley whispered, “Come on. Let’s try round the back.”
Next to a fire door, propped open with a brick, they found a group of uniformed men and women smoking. Riley nodded casually at one of them and went through.
“Excuse me,” shouted one of the men, but it was too late. They were already inside.
The emergency exit led through to a darkened service area that would normally have been filled with the hum of machinery. The air conditioning unit stood idle, salvaged for parts, dismantled and broken. Beyond the swing door, along a narrow corridor were various blue hospital signs, that had been repurposed with handwritten notices directing visitors to all the various different departments. The captain’s office was on the third floor.
An armed guard on the stairwell seemed distracted, cupping his ear as if trying to listen to an exchange on his walkie-talkie. Riley strode towards him, bold as brass. He held his hand out to ask her to wait, but she ignored him.
“We’re here to see the captain.”
He acknowledged an instruction over the radio and turned back to give Riley and the others his full attention. “He’s upstairs with the commander and some Americans. And you are?” he said, reaching for his clipboard.
“Just tell him Riley and Sister Imelda are here. He knows us.”
He relayed the message and stepped aside, directing them up the stairs. The padre was waiting for them on the next floor, hands on hips.
“So this must be Heather.” He nodded in her direction. “Glad to see you found each other. Look, sister, I’m sorry, but if this is a social visit, your timing is pretty terrible.”
“I’ve just been told I’m not allowed to leave. Am I to understand we’re prisoners here?”
“It’s a precautionary measure. The whole base is on lockdown.”
“Then what the hell’s going on?”
“You’re welcome to wait, and I can explain afterwards. We’re just in the middle of briefing the Americans.”
The sister was not in a forgiving mood, so he gestured for them to follow. Weaving behind a maze of desks and workstations bustling with military types, he led them into a small office with the name Bennett stencilled on the door, and a wooden cross underneath.
“We’re getting initial reports of a fresh outbreak.”
“Where?” interrupted Riley, worried about the rest of her team in Freshwater.
“Camp Three. It’s just south of here. They’re reporting nearly a dozen infections in one day.”
“How? Haven’t most people on the island had their booster shots?”
“We don’t yet know. We only found out this morning.”
“Could someone have got through?”
“I doubt it. All the beaches and landing points are patrolled. We have checkpoints on every road. The island
is watched day and night.”
“Then the virus must have found a way.”
“They’re doing everything they can to contain the outbreak. We just have to hope that we can nip this in the bud.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“It has to work.”
“Well, then,” said the sister in resignation, “if we’re all stuck here, what can we do to help? Perhaps I could lead some prayers.”
“I was going to suggest that. There’s a chapel at the far end of the compound. There will be a lot of worried people here who would appreciate your spiritual guidance. I’ll let everyone know you’ll be there for them.”
“What about all the people outside the fence?” said Riley, pointing out the window towards the main gate where she could see several hundred locals clamouring to be allowed in.
“There’s not much we can do for them. They can’t stay there. They’ll be told to disperse.”
There was a knock at the door. One of the orderlies stuck his head round, tapping his watch.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lieutenant Peterson is waiting.”
Riley joined Heather on the red leather bench seat where she had left her. She slumped back against the wall and blew out her cheeks.
“Those poor bastards,” she whispered under her breath. “I knew this place was too good to be true.”
“They told us it would be safe.”
“I know, Heather. It’s no one’s fault. Somehow, I guess nature finds a way. If it’s anything like the last outbreak, then our best bet is to get as far away from towns and cities as possible. The south and the west of the island are probably best.”
“Nowhere’s safe,” cautioned the sister. “This is what Sister Theodora said would happen: that the first outbreak was just the beginning.”
“We should never have left Hurst,” conceded Riley. “I’ve never felt truly safe on this island.”
****
After nearly half an hour’s wait, the conference room door opened and the meeting participants filtered out. Riley could see Lieutenant Peterson and his team members still in the room, poring over a map of the Isle of Wight.
She spotted Sergeant Jones waiting patiently by the door. He looked up and smiled, making his excuses to leave.
“Riley, how are you?” he said, looking her up and down, before enveloping her in his arms. “And who’s this?”
“This is Zed’s daughter, Heather.”
“Of course, you have your old man’s eyes.” He grinned, studying her carefully.
“How do you know my father?”
“We’ve been in a few scrapes together.” He shrugged. “For a pencil-pusher, he’s got real guts. How’s his arm healing up?”
“His arm?”
“My bad. I take it you haven’t seen your father yet?”
“Sorry, Heather,” said Riley, shaking her head. “It must have slipped my mind. He lost his arm in an incident.”
“Look, I didn’t even know he was alive until yesterday.”
“We think he’s up at Porton Down with the colonel.”
“That’s what I heard too. Hey, listen, I guess we’re all sticking around here for a while. If the boss doesn’t need me, you want to grab a coffee?”
“Go ahead, I’ll keep the sister company,” said Heather. “We’ll be at the chapel.”
****
Riley was reluctant to leave Heather alone for too long, so they collected a styrofoam cup of black coffee each and took a quick stroll around the compound. They talked and talked, about life at Freshwater, what they had both seen and heard, their hopes and fears, and the family and friends they had both lost. Pete had been married with two kids; a boy and a girl.
“I was never the settling down type,” admitted Riley. “Do you think you’ll ever make it back home, find out what happened to them?”
“Sometimes I think it’s better not knowing. Then I can just pretend this is just an extended tour of duty. That I’ll be home in time for Thanksgiving or my daughter’s birthday.”
“I suppose we all hoped that the US would have been better prepared, better funded. The UK’s so overpopulated. Didn’t geography help slow the outbreak in North America?”
“I don’t think distance made much of a difference. Turns out we were all vulnerable. Everything was so interconnected back then with people travelling far and wide. Life’s different now.”
His shoulders seemed to slump talking about home. It was the same reason people avoided talking about the way things were before the outbreak. It was just too painful.
“When was the last time you got a proper break?” she asked, touching his arm.
He blew out his cheeks. “It’s been a while. I had a couple of days back in September. Just took off on a bicycle along the south coast and back up.”
“Must have been nice to tour the island, see what’s changed.”
“It’s slowly getting better. I’ve been overseeing the new recruits. They’re doing more of the heavy lifting work now. Seven units so far, three more coming online by the end of the year.”
“So you think things are on the up?”
“Until this new outbreak, I’d say we had everything under control.”
“What about the rebels?”
“I wouldn’t worry about them. We’re keeping an eye on them.”
“Do you know what happened to Terra and the professor?”
“We tracked Briggs back to Carisbrooke Castle, but then they disappeared a few days ago. We think they may have gone back to the mainland. Maybe joined up with Damian King’s group.”
“If you know where King and Briggs are holed up, why don’t you just take them out, once and for all?”
Jones found that amusing for some unknown reason. “Unfortunately it’s not that simple.”
“I don’t see why not. You’ve done it before. Remember? You rescued us.”
“That was different. Do you have any idea how much trouble I got into last time I listened to you and Zed? I disobeyed a direct order, nearly lost my command. They threatened me with court martial if I turn vigilante again.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. So don’t go fluttering those eyelashes and ask me to do you any more favours.”
“You know they hanged Jack. Strung him up outside the castle gates like some common criminal.”
“I’m sorry, okay? There was nothing we could have done. I didn’t like it any more than you did. It was a miracle we got the rest of you out.”
“Are you worried about the professor?”
“If we find out he’s been helping them with their research, then we’ll be forced to take steps.”
“You mean silence him?”
“If we can’t get him out, then yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
The colonel half-supported, half-dragged Zed back up the underground passages beneath Porton Down, making for the stairwell to the upper levels.
In Zed’s semi-delirious state, the hazmat suits made the colonel’s men seem like astronauts exploring an unknown world. Their movements were exaggerated, their features distorted and monstrous. Through the perspex panel of the bright yellow hazmat suit, he could see the colonel inside, perspiring heavily from the effort.
Zed started to laugh, prompting concerned looks from those around him. Every time he tried to remove his oxygen mask, the colonel would stop and insist he place it back over his mouth and nose.
Their small group reached a sealed airtight door giving access to the next zone. It was marked “Authorised Personnel Only”. They pushed the button to release the outer airlock. It was just large enough to accommodate five men at a time. Once the outer door was sealed, they were exposed to a high-pressure jet of air from above. They turned around and let the air stream wash over their suits and clothing.
When the decontamination cycle was complete, the colonel rattled the handle, waiting for the locking mechanism to disengage. For some reaso
n, it remained closed. From a speaker embedded in the ceiling came a woman’s voice, polite but firm.
“I’m holding you here, gentlemen. Major Donnelly’s orders.”
“Perhaps you can let him know that Colonel Matthew Abrahams is outside.” He smiled towards the camera, head tilted.
There was a short delay before Major Donnelly’s voice came over the intercom. “Welcome back, colonel. We’ve had to seal this section until we know what we’re dealing with. We can’t risk further contamination. Is Corporal Chappell with you?”
The corporal pressed himself against the airlock door and manoeuvred the colonel to the side before taking his place in front of the camera.
“Sir, we found no signs of contamination or toxins on the lower levels. Casualties seemed to be suffering from dehydration and exhaustion only. All the sensors down there were green.”
“How’s Mr Samuels doing? Any signs of exposure?”
“Nothing at all. Other than oxygen deprivation, he seems fine.”
The speaker fell silent again. Zed braced himself against the wall. He felt a little giddy, but other than that, as far as he could tell, he was unharmed.
“Very well. Proceed to the medical centre. They’ll check him over. The rest of you get scrubbed down. As soon as we’ve finished our sweep and got a full situation report, I’ll come and find you.”
The colonel nodded, waiting for his turn to exit the airlock. The medical centre was on sub-level one, back the way they had come.
“Really, I’m fine,” said Zed, “I’d rather get back to work.”
“For once in your life, just follow orders, will you?” barked the colonel.
****
With a hiss of air, the inner door to the medical centre cracked open, and they were helped through by one of the nurses. She wore a face mask and gloves but no other protection. She led them through to a shower area where they were asked to remove their clothing.
“Is this really necessary?” asked the colonel irritably, stripping to his underwear. His thighs were white and podgy under the bright strip lights.
“Sorry, colonel. We have our orders. It will only take a minute.”
