Three Miles Out: Book One

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Three Miles Out: Book One Page 6

by Jacqueline Druga

“It’s an invasion.”

  “Yes, and other countries are reporting…”

  “I don’t give a shit about other countries,” she said. “I care about mine. We have been invaded. We’re at war against this infection and infected. Time to treat it that way. Instead of containing it, while they try to cure it, we need to kill it.”

  “The latest mutation …”

  “Those infected, they can still be stopped and put down. Once we eliminate an infected, no matter which state they are in, they are eliminated. So instead of setting up welfare borders, we need to go in there and clear the area of all infected.”

  “Treat them as enemies.”

  “They are enemies. Hell bent on destroying us. We start with those stupid kill camps I authorized two days ago.”

  “Playing devil’s advocate here. I agree with your plan, but …” Brian said. “With all those affected counties and states we are looking at tens of millions infected. If we took every active, retired and reserve soldier and put them on the front lines, that’s still only one point five million. The infected outnumber our soldiers ten to one.”

  “That still leaves a hundred million able bodied Americans to fight. That’s enough to beat this.”

  “And how do we get them?” Brian asked.

  With a sigh, Linda finally faced him. “I was out and about today. People don’t care, they aren’t paying attention. We spent so much time burying this, they think this will just pass.”

  “The President wants us to keep it low key. He’s downplaying it to keep everybody calm. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Right now, society isn’t falling apart.”

  “Yes, I know, but it will as this thing grows. That is going to happen. We need to beat it. To do that, we need soldiers on the front line killing the infected. So we leak an honest map to the media, get our best PR and marketing people on this and do what the army has always done when they need manpower,” Linda said. “We recruit.”

  <><><><>

  Along with her emotion of grief, Vivian was angry. The second the ferry docked, she turned to Aaron and bluntly told him. ‘We’re here. Now you will tell me what the hell is going on. Why I can’t go home. Why that mob was chasing us.”

  “Agreed. You deserve to know. Maybe you should have something to keep you calm.”

  “I don’t ever want medicated again.”

  “I was uh, thinking more along the lines of a drink.”

  Aaron explained the island tourist attraction just off the coast of Sandusky, Ohio was evacuated and cleared for the project, then he explained what he could. They sat at a two seater, outdoor café table, just at the end of the dock. Vivian rolled her drink between her hands.

  “After I did … what I did to Ben,” Vivian said. “I was angry, I didn’t care. He killed my children. But you know, stuck in a room by myself, no TV, you constantly sedating me, the dreams were horrible. I started to feel guilt. Now …” she shook her head. “I’m angry over what happened, but I don’t hate him like I did that day.”

  “You did a pretty rough job. There was nothing recognizable of his …”

  Vivian peered up.

  Aaron cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

  “When he came home from Walter Reed after deployment, they said he had the flu. I would video chat with him. He looked sick. When he got home he looked better, but something was off. When they called Ben back to Walter Reed, he looked as if he made a full recovery. He drove there.”

  “Most of the men weren’t symptomatic yet,” Aaron said. “They were brought in as a precaution and over the course of a couple days we saw it came back. They were treated, their blood was clear and we sent them on their way. It was just in a remission, or metamorphosis.”

  “When did he get contagious?”

  “About two days before he showed symptoms.”

  “He was bad, you know,” Vivian said. “Headache, fever. I begged him to go to the doctor, to call Walter Reed. He didn’t.”

  “You just need to know, there was nothing that could be done. No one saw this coming and some of the best minds in the world worked on this. Nothing has ever happened like this.”

  “That’s not true,” Vivian said.

  “What do you mean?” asked Aaron.

  “You said it was parasitical. Parasites that go to the brain are known to cause irrational behavior.”

  “Vivian, come on. Irrational behavior, yeah. Tearing people apart with bare hands, that’s a bit more than irrational behavior.”

  “Am I a carrier?” Vivian asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “So, you’re saying all those people in the mob had this?”

  Aaron nodded.

  “If it started with the eighteen soldiers, how did it get to Sandusky? I had to bring it.”

  “Oh, you did. But it wasn’t you that spread it. The paramedic that brought you, the police that came to check on you. This thing is so contagious, it’s scary,” Aaron explained. “It’s microscopic. It could have been on their shoes, anywhere. It didn’t respond to any existing regimen or cure. Hell, it is impermeable to water treatment. Someone with the infection, takes a piss, flushes, that water is clean with the exception of PVI.”

  “How do you stop it?”

  “There has got to be a way to kill it,” Aaron said. “That’s why we’re here. To work on it. You and five others can’t get it. We tested your blood and tissues, your defenses defeat it.”

  Vivian nodded. “Then you need us to try to make a cure.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do what you need to do.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “Is everyone on the island immune or resistant?”

  Aaron shook his head with a chuckle. “No, not at all. Well, some are. Not like the Nostrum.”

  “What is that?”

  “You and the five others. A Nostrum is another name for miracle cure. So that’s what we’re calling you. All of you could walk through infected blood barefoot and not a single larva would live in your system. Some people here, the infection can penetrate them just by walking in an area. More than likely, they’ve already been infected. It’s just dormant, like your husband’s was. We’ll catch it when they emerge.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “Me, I fall into general immunity. I can get it. Just not as easy as most. I’d have to be bit or scratched.”

  “What about drinking tap water?” she asked.

  “I’m gonna say no simply because I was drinking it before we realized it was spreading that way. I’m not taking chances though. I’ve been drinking bottled water and wearing goggles when I shower. Still doesn’t guarantee I won’t get it.”

  “That’s a hell of a way to live.”

  Aaron shrugged. “I can’t obsess about it. No one can. It is what it is. That’s why we’re working so hard.”

  “Am I prisoner here?”

  “We prefer you not to leave the island. But you can feel free to move around. Everyone’s gone, it’s just you and the other Nostrum, the research team, a few soldiers and those who helped get the place ready. In fact …” Aaron stood. “We have your room set up at the Resort. Would you like to go there?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Grabbing her drink, Vivian stood. “What about clothing?”

  “We found some things. But there are shops on the island.”

  “So, steal clothes.”

  “Mark what you take. The government has the bill.” Aaron winked.

  She walked with him, slowly of course. Even though it was a short distance, it was a long haul to go on a bad leg.

  The Island Venture Resort was not as grand looking as the name made it sound. The yellow frame resort, set near the bay, was quaint and charming. A two and a half story, ‘L’ shaped structure surrounded by a walking path lined with flowers. Each room had its own entrance with white chairs outside.

  The only things that offset the beauty were the research mobile units in the parking lot adjacent to the resort.
r />   Her room was the third from the lobby, Aaron swiped the card key and handed it to her as he opened the door. “I’m not gonna lie. We don’t have anyone preparing food. But there are prepackaged meals in the dining room and the kitchen is stocked. We need you to eat. So if finding your own ...”

  “I’ll be fine,” Vivian cut him off and stepped into the room.

  It was nice, modern and clean. A typical looking motel room. One bed, a chair, couch and table.

  “The bag on the bed has clothing for you. It isn’t much.”

  Vivian turned her head to look. Just as she acknowledged what he said, she spotted them on the dresser.

  Six framed pictures perched there. They were the same pictures that graced the mantel in her house. Photos of her children, her husband, them as a family.

  She stared coldly at them.

  “Vivian?”

  “How did you get these?”

  “When the final team went through Wakeman, I knew you would be coming here. I … told them to grab pictures for you, if they could. The glass is broke because we ran them through extremely cold temperatures to kill …” He paused. “Vivian, I’m sorry. I thought you’d want them.”

  She spun to him. “You went into my home. You sent strangers into my home?”

  “To get you photos of your children.”

  “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I don’t,” Vivian said with edge. “But I wanted to go home. If I wasn’t under arrest, if I’m immune, I should have been able to go there.”

  “You can. When this is all said and done. If I’m still alive and standing I will take you there myself.”

  “I don’t get why I couldn’t go before we came here?”

  “Are you serious?” Aaron asked. “Did you see Sandusky? That was a residual infection point. By the time you were well enough to go there, it was too late. It was far too dangerous.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Vivian, Wakeman was like a ground zero. We’re just waiting for it to burn out. There’s nothing left there,” Aaron said. “Nothing left alive, that is.”

  <><><><>

  Brady had an itchy left leg. Behind the knee and just above the calf muscle, the itch drove him nuts. He scratched and scratched. It even invaded his dream to the point he heard the scratching.

  Scratch.

  Scratch.

  He woke suddenly from the dream and sat up in bed.

  “Fuck, I bet there’s bed bugs.” He flipped off the covers and reached for his leg.

  Scratch.

  Scratch.

  Brady paused. He wasn’t even touching his leg.

  He heard the scratching noise.

  Swinging his legs from the bed to the floor, he prepared to wake up Jason.

  Scratch. Scratch.

  The noise came from behind him.

  Slowly, he turned his head and lifted his eyes to the window.

  A bloody hand clawed against the glass. Fingers curling slowly.

  Then instantly a face appeared next to the glass. Flush against the surface, the window smashed his appearance and whatever was wet on his skin caused a squeaking noise.

  Brady screamed and jumped.

  He screamed loudly.

  “What?” Jason jumped up. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

  “Something. Something is out there.” Brady pointed, his hand shaking.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Jason, look…”

  A lamp was on the table between the two beds, just under the window. Jason turned it on.

  Brady lowered his arm.

  The window went black.

  “You’re dreaming, dude,” Jason said. “Nothing is ….”

  Scratch. Scratch. Squeak.

  Both men looked at each other.

  Brady lowered his voice to a whisper. “Something, someone is out there.”

  Jason walked over to the bathroom and flicked on the light, then he returned and stood next to Brady. He reached down and shut off the lamp. When he did, both men screamed and jumped. It wasn’t just one hand, one face, but multitudes, clawing, scratching, shoving together trying to get through.

  Jason turned on the lamp.

  “Turn it off, turn it off, they can see us!” Brady yelled, then reached down and turned it off.

  As soon as the room went dark, both Brady and Jason spun on their heels and raced for the door.

  “Help us!” Jason pounded on the door. “Anyone!”

  Brady pounded as well, pulling on the knob. “Someone!”

  In the midst of pounding and pulling, Brady heard something. A knocking. Where was it coming from? It sounded like an echo of their attempts to get out. He stopped and reached for Jason. “Shh.” He pulled Jason’s hand away.

  The knocks and bangs continued, but only this time they came from the other side of the door.

  “Oh, fuck,” Brady stepped back.

  “Someone is out there, too,” Jason said.

  It stopped and went quiet for a moment, a split second later two large bangs rang out.

  Brady jolted and jumped back, when he did, he crashed into the cart with the snacks on it, knocking their box of supplies to the floor.

  Clink.

  “What was that?” Jason raced to the lamp and turned it on.

  The pounding at the window intensified.

  “Oh my God,” Brady said in shock.

  Jason walked over to him.

  Brady instantly realized there was a method in the Sheriff’s madness.

  Take your time. Don’t eat it all at once. Make it last.

  The sheriff left it there for them, with hopes they wouldn’t have found it for a couple days. Perhaps, after things had died down. And with the way they were rationing, had Brady not toppled the supplies, they wouldn’t have found it.

  But they did.

  There with the overturned snack box and five remaining cakes … was a key.

  TEN – Reflection

  It was about three in the morning and Vivian couldn’t sleep. Maybe her body was used to the drugs Aaron had constantly fed her, or perhaps she just slept too much over the last few days. Whatever the reason, staying awake didn’t help make her feel better.

  She paced about the room, sat down, stood up, picked up the phone to a silent line. No television, radio, not even a book.

  The quiet and solitude was crushing because all she did was think of her family.

  Vivian cried a lot, actually sobbed. At one point, she muffled her own screams into a pillow. There was no way, no how she was going to be able to live with the loss. Never was she a praying person, but she did that first night in the hotel.

  She prayed that there truly was a heaven, somewhere, an afterlife, so she could take solace that her children were in another place waiting.

  The hotel didn’t have a dining room like Aaron said. It was in another one of those mobile trailers set up at the side of the building. She saw Aaron there when she went to find something to eat. Not that she felt like eating, she just had to do something.

  There was even a moment, a fleeting one where she thought about taking her own life, death would relieve her of the pain, then she realized she couldn’t. Not only did she not have the courage, she just couldn’t.

  Vivian knew she still had a purpose on this earth. Whatever it was they needed, blood, tissue, for her to be a Guinea pig, she didn’t care. If her tragedy could stop one person from feeling what she felt, it was worth it.

  Finally she had enough of the room, she decided to walk. After all, she was told she was free to do so.

  She was well aware the island was just about empty and she recalled seeing the restaurant on her walk to the hotel. She decided to go there, find a drink. Maybe the alcohol would help her relax a little bit.

  It was warm out and she could catch a breeze coming from the lake. The lake looked almost too dark.

  As she passed the parking lot she saw it lit up. The mobile labs had lights on and she could see people m
oving in them, working diligently.

  The Brewery Restaurant was across from the parking lot. There was a street light out front and a soft light came from inside.

  More than likely, the light was left on by those who evacuated. She was well aware that the businesses were closed with evacuation, but like Aaron said, she could take what she needed, just keep track so the government could pay the bill.

  He was wrong about the dining room, she hoped he wasn’t wrong about the resources on the island.

  The door was open and Vivian stepped inside. It reminded her of the type of places she would visit at Virginia Beach. Bench like seats with a relaxed atmosphere.

  A light was on behind the bar and a jar encased candle which burned on the bar. It wasn’t bright, but light enough for her to make her way across the restaurant.

  She stepped behind the bar. It was void of everything but tap handles with names of brews she didn’t recognize.

  “Swell,” she said. “Only beer. I hate beer.”

  The sound of two footsteps caught her attention and she looked up.

  “The uh, harder stuff is under the bar,” he said. “Cabinet to your right. I broke the lock.”

  She couldn’t see him well; he was a shadow.

  “Thank you,” she replied, following his instructions she found the cabinet. “Ah ha!” She bent down, opened it and found a bottle. Standing she set it on the bar and reached for a glass.

  “Can you leave that out?”

  “Sure,” she answered, pouring some in a glass.

  “You must be number six,” he said, stepping into the light.

  His appearance took her aback some. A man only slightly taller than average with average build, there was a strong presence about him, yet her eyes strayed to his left cheek. It was sewn together like a recreation of Frankenstein’s monster. Swollen some, the puffiness encompassing the sutures.

  He reached for the bottle and caught her gaze at his face. “You think it looks bad now, you should see it in the light.” He poured some of the brown liquid in his glass. “Seems my niece thought my cheek looked pretty tasty.”

  “I’m … I’m sorry.” Vivian shook her head. “I’m being rude.”

 

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