Viral Misery (Book 1)

by Watson, Thomas A

  “I don’t care. You need something or need to tell me something, you call.”

  “Arthur, I will, but the internet will be the fastest way for us to talk. I got your message when you sent it. I just had to wait in line for the phone for half an hour,” Wendy told him.

  “Okay, babe. You stay safe. I love you,” Arthur said, feeling helpless.

  “Love you too,” Wendy told him and Arthur heard the phone click.

  Looking at the phone with a sigh, he carried it back to the bedroom and put it back in the base on Wendy’s side of the bed. He looked on her pillow to see the cats side-by-side like sphinx, ruling over their land. “I’m telling Wendy neither of you were worried about her,” Arthur huffed and neither cat even cracked an eye open.

  Grabbing his workout clothes, Arthur headed to the bathroom and just started the day ahead of schedule. Brushing his teeth, he said a prayer for Wendy and Joseph but even now, the visitor was slowly multiplying through Wendy’s body.

  Chapter Ten

  Only those in charge need to be safe

  May 2

  Hearing a tap behind him, Dr. Sutton stepped back from the lab table and turned around. He saw Jackson at the view window overlooking the lab. Inside a pressurized lab suit, Sutton reached down and pressed the radio box connected to the outside intercom. “Yes?” he said and saw Jackson motioning with his hands. “Look to your left and you will see a communication box. Press the green button to talk.”

  Glancing to his left, Jackson stepped over and pressed the button. “Sutton, the president has arrived and wants an update,” Jackson told him.

  “I need ten minutes,” Sutton snapped. “I’m almost finished with these dishes.”

  “I’ll let him know and will be waiting outside the airlock,” Jackson said, then walked away.

  Moving back to the microscope, Sutton went back to work spreading the virus on the prepared culture medium. When he had the last one done, he grabbed the stack of petri dishes and carried them to an incubator. Looking over at his assistants, “Mark lot four in,” he called out.

  “The latest report is in from Atlanta,” one of the assistants said and Sutton waved a thanks, then opened the pressurized door. Walking into the sealed chamber, he relocked the door and pressed the shower button.

  Holding up his arms, Sutton let the bleach water wash over him as the UV lights came on. Turning in slow circles, Sutton let the water wash flow over him as two sprays started on the sides. For ten minutes, he continued the dance he had done too many times to count in his career. When the water shut off, steam erupted under his feet. This was new and he had only seen it in this new lab, and it scared the shit out of him.

  He felt the heat inside the suit as visibility was lost in the cloud of steam. Then a hum sounded and the steam was sucked out. In front of him, a green light turned on and he opened the outer door and saw Jackson waiting in the changing area.

  Sutton had to admit, he liked the Surgeon General. He had been in the Mt. Weather complex for four days and he was blown away at the size. He had been expecting a cave, but he’d found a small city buried under a mountain. “One of your people handed me this,” Jackson said, holding a stack of papers.

  “Latest reports,” Sutton said, unzipping the suit and started the process of taking it off. It didn’t take as long as putting it on. Putting it on, one knew it was your last line of defense while working with the most lethal killers of nature and you did it slowly and correctly. Even after decades at his job, Sutton took his time, triple checking everything.

  “Yeah, I think the virus is moving faster than your team predicted,” Jackson said.

  Hanging his lab suit up, Sutton turned around to stare at Jackson. “Atlanta discovered two mutated viruses yesterday,” Sutton told him.

  “Please tell me one is less lethal,” Jackson pleaded.

  “Sorry,” Sutton said, kicking his Crocs off and shoving his feet in his loafers. “I’m not putting on a suit and tie. I’m coming back here when I’m done.”

  “If anyone says anything, I’ll take care of it,” Jackson assured him, looking at Sutton who was wearing scrubs. “Remember, no blame on them.”

  Grabbing the stack of papers, Sutton gave a tired smile. “Thank you for helping me through the political waters.”

  “We need you and I’m not kidding. If they, the ones in charge, think someone will place blame on them, that person will disappear,” Jackson said, holding the door open.

  “The director told me, off the record of course,” Sutton said, flipping the folder open. “Has the mountain been sealed?”

  “It was after the president came in from Camp David. I put your laptop in my cart,” Jackson grunted, opening the door out of the building. The door opened up to a cement road in a tunnel. Golf carts were parked in marked spaces like cars would be in front of the building buried in the side of the tunnel.

  Following Jackson to a cart, Sutton climbed in the passenger side as Jackson jumped behind the steering wheel. “Thank you, I always forget my laptop,” Sutton yawned. “If someone infected got in, then we are dead,” Sutton said, looking at the folder. “I hope everyone has at least been mucosal screened.”

  Backing up and heading down the tunnel, “Yes, the nasal swab screen has been done on everyone before they entered,” Jackson assured him.

  “It still takes one day after infection to become positive,” Sutton said, flipping through the papers.

  Driving along, the tunnel opened up into a huge cavern but it didn’t look like a cavern. A hundred feet up, huge lights blocked out the roof. There were shops, stores, and buildings on both sides and a large lake on the left with a small park. “You have everything you need?” Jackson asked, passing other golf carts as they approached a crossroad.

  Looking up from the papers and turning to Jackson, “That lab is better than the one I had in Atlanta, and it was supposed to have the best equipment,” Sutton snorted.

  “So, you have everything?”

  “Equipment wise, yes. But we have none of the chickens yet and I would like to get samples of the mutated viruses,” Sutton said, not paying any attention to the wonders around him.

  “I’m working on the chickens, but the flocks are being decimated and the Department of Agriculture is destroying any flock that shows infection. I should be able to get you the samples,” Jackson said, approaching another crossroad and turned left. He honked the small horn on the cart as a man tried to walk across the road. Sutton looked up as the man jumped out of the way.

  “Was that Senator Dayle?” Sutton asked.

  Chuckling, “Yeah,” Jackson smirked.

  “Should’ve run his ass over, he cut our funding,” Sutton grumbled, turning his attention back to the papers.

  The buildings around them stopped and the walls closed in as they entered into a tunnel. Slowing down, Jackson stopped at a barrier gate like those in parking garages. But there were soldiers manning this one.

  “They are expecting you,” one of the guards said, waving at a booth and the yellow gate swung up and Jackson pulled through and the tunnel opened up to a smaller cavern.

  Pulling up to another building, Jackson parked in one of the vacant spots and climbed out. Closing the folder, Sutton slowly got out and grabbed his laptop bag. “I hope they give me a few minutes so I can go over this,” Sutton said, holding up the folder.

  “They will,” Jackson smiled. “Paterson came to see you yesterday and saw you working in the lab.”

  “What were they expecting me to be doing?”

  Shaking his head as he opened the door, “It shocks them that people at the top do actual work,” Jackson laughed.

  “I didn’t have a choice about taking the job as associate director,” Sutton said, walking in. “The other man for the job could barely tie his shoes.”

  “Could almost say the same about some in the room we are about to be in,” Jackson commented as they walked across a large room and a guard opened a set of double doors. Walking
down the hall lined with doors, two guards were standing beside double doors.

  Seeing the two coming, they opened the doors as Jackson held up his ID card. Reaching down, Sutton held up his ID card hanging on a lanyard around his neck.

  The guards nodded as they walked into another room where a man wearing a suit sat beside another door. Not seeing the man, Sutton gave a cry of excitement at seeing a table loaded with food. He ran over as a Secret Service agent opened a door on the opposite wall. Jackson grinned as Sutton put his laptop and papers down and grabbed a plate, loading it with food.

  “I take it, you haven’t eaten?” Jackson laughed.

  Glancing at his watch, “Fourteen hours ago,” Sutton answered, grabbing a can of soda. “I really want this vaccine and I forget to eat when I’m working.”

  Hearing the word ‘vaccine’, the agent tilted his head to Sutton and then stepped over to grab Sutton’s laptop and the folder with the stack of papers. “Thank you,” Sutton said, smiling.

  “Pleasure, sir,” the agent said and followed them inside.

  The room held a long table almost identical to the one at the White House and Sutton barely gave a glance as he started eating, heading to an open seat. Moving past Sutton, the agent pulled his chair out and set the folder and then his laptop bag down.

  With his mouth full, Sutton gave the agent a funny grin and the agent just nodded with a smile. “Dr. Sutton, haven’t they prepared you any food?” the President asked, sitting at the head of the table.

  Holding up his hand as he chewed faster, Sutton opened the soda and took a drink to wash the food down. “Sorry, Mr. President,” he said with a dry voice, then took another swig of soda. “I’ve been in the lab and when I took a nap at my desk, one of the guards brought me and my team some sandwiches.”

  “That was fourteen hours ago, Mr. President,” Jackson said, sitting down beside Sutton.

  Everyone at the table gave an impressed nod as the president snapped his fingers and the aide standing behind him stepped forward. “Sarah, I’m assigning you with Dr. Sutton twenty-four-seven. Your job is to make sure he and his team are fed and taken care of.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” the young lady said and stepped back to the wall.

  “Where are we at, Mr. President?” Jackson asked. “I wanted to give him a chance to eat and read over what Atlanta sent because Dr. Sutton’s already told me that he’s headed back to the lab when we are done here.”

  Nodding his head, the President grinned as Sutton shoveled food in his mouth, reading a stack of papers in a folder. “The NSA is reporting that they are having problems keeping panic off the internet and several broadcasters are getting antsy about not reporting the deaths,” the President answered.

  “We have an actual death toll?” Jackson asked and Sarah ran from behind the president and down the table. Stopping beside Jackson, she handed him a bound report and put one beside Sutton, then ran back behind the president.

  As Jackson opened the report, Paterson looked across the table. “As of this morning, over six million, four hundred, and twenty thousand,” Paterson said glumly.

  Not looking up, “Shit,” Jackson gasped, looking at the printout in the report that listed areas of the nation. “It’s growing exponentially like Dr. Sutton said, but it’s every other day, not three, and these numbers are much higher.”

  “Fuck,” Sutton mumbled with a mouthful and leaned down to grab his laptop out of his bag.

  Jackson and everyone at the table turned to Sutton as he opened his laptop up. “Problem?” Jackson said and Sutton’s chewing exaggerated as he turned on his laptop and held a hand up to Jackson. Grabbing his soda, Sutton shook it and gave a depressed sigh, hearing it was empty.

  As Sutton pushed his chair back, the President pointed to the door and Sarah took off running. Jackson grabbed a water pitcher from the middle of the table and poured a glass, seeing Sutton needed anything wet so he could swallow.

  Grabbing the cup, Sutton downed it and emptied his mouth. “Shit, I can’t eat like that anymore,” he grumbled, setting the glass down and looking at his laptop screen. “Oh, come on!” he cried out, reaching down and grabbing his power cord.

  Jackson leaned over and saw the low battery shutdown warning on the screen. He grabbed the plug and stood up, plugging it into a power strip in the center of the table and Sutton plugged the supply into his laptop. “Mine does the same thing. When I need it the most, the battery dies,” Jackson said and everyone around the table nodded and chuckled dryly, not liking the look on Sutton’s face.

  “That’s why I bought this one, it has the largest battery available,” Sutton huffed, waving his hand at the computer and then typed in his password.

  As the computer came to life, Sarah came back with two cans of soda. Setting one unopened on the table, she opened the other one and set it beside Sutton. “Thank you,” Sutton said, clicking the wireless connection. “The password is not the same here?” Sutton cried out.

  Leaning over, Sarah pushed Sutton to the side and started typing on his laptop. When she hit enter, the screen showed access. “There you go,” Sarah smiled.

  Sutton looked up and saw Sarah was a young intern and couldn’t be much over twenty-five. “Thank you again,” Sutton grinned. “Sorry you had to get that close to me when I’ve been wearing a pressured lab suit for days on end.”

  “You haven’t been shown your quarters?” Paterson cried out across the table.

  “Oh, I threw my suitcases in there with my home computer, but then I went to the lab,” Sutton replied, grabbing more food but putting smaller pieces in his mouth. “I may be senior in rank but not in the lab, and I hauled Dr. Skannish up here from Atlanta. He forgave me as soon as he got in the lab. We aren’t slowing down until we make some headway.”

  “Thank you for eating smaller sizes, I don’t want to do the Heimlich,” Sarah smiled and moved back behind the president.

  Sutton nodded at her, then turned to Paterson. “I had one of my assistants go and find some cots to put in our offices by the lab so we can grab a few winks. It took him over an hour and some major tried to arrest him for taking the cots,” Sutton told him.

  “You have the name?” Paterson asked and Jackson tapped Sutton with his foot.

  “Sorry, but that was several viral sequences ago and to be honest, he wasn’t worth my brain power to commit him to memory,” Sutton replied and several around the table laughed.

  Very proud of Sutton, Jackson looked up from the report and over at Paterson. “So, there still isn’t any civil unrest?” he asked as Sutton continued eating, tapping on his laptop and reading the papers.

  “Very little, and most are families of those we’ve told their patient has been flown elsewhere,” Paterson said.

  The president stared at Sutton eating, reading his laptop and papers all at the same time. He watched how fast Sutton scanned the papers and then his laptop, knowing he was reading very fast. “When can we expect the stock market to crash?” the President asked, never looking away from Sutton.

  “The day we announce the virus is deadly,” Temple answered. “Wall Street is helping support the losses, but they want to know what’s going on.”

  “Jackson, what’s your thoughts on that?” the President asked.

  Looking up from the report and setting it down on the table, Jackson turned to the President. “Sir, if you tell them, you tell the world,” Jackson answered. “Our primary goal has been to buy time, but we are losing that fast because this virus is beyond anything we’ve ever dreamed of in our worst nightmares.”

  Still watching Sutton scanning pages and the laptop, the president nodded. “I agree, and that would only cause chaos,” he said as Sutton put the last page down and picked up the report Sarah had put beside him. Before the president could ask, Sutton started reading.

  Several others noticed the president staring and followed his gaze to Sutton. Sutton’s eyes scanned each page from top to bottom quickly, then he flipped the page to
start on the next. “Sorry, Dr. Sutton, but I have to ask, are you actually reading or scanning that report?” the President asked.

  “Reading it,” Sutton responded, not looking away from the report as his hand grabbed the soda and brought it to his mouth. When he set the can down, his hand moved over to the empty plate. Glancing at his empty plate, Sutton sighed and then turned his eyes back to the report.

  Sarah moved up behind the President, whispering in his ear and the president nodded. With the President still watching Sutton, Sarah left the room.

  Laying the report flat on the table, Sutton picked up the folder and thumbed through the papers. “Jackson, compare that to page one hundred and four,” Sutton said, handing several pages to Jackson. “I’ll be with you in just a second, Mr. President,” Sutton called out, tapping his computer. “I hate giving half information and I’m sorry, but I didn’t prep before coming.”

  “Quite all right,” the President smiled as Sutton looked from his laptop to the report and flipped the page.

  “The Atlanta team is right,” Jackson said, handing the papers back.

  Not taking the papers, Sutton handed the folder to Jackson. “There’s a graph on age dispersion infection rates in there, compare it to what’s in the report,” Sutton said, flipping another page in the report and then typed on his computer. “Am I reading right that youth has the highest survival rate?”

  Everyone started flipping through their reports as Paterson spoke up, “Page ninety-six.”

  The President flipped his report to the page and saw columns of numbers as Sarah came back in, carrying a plate loaded with sandwiches. She took the empty plate and set the full plate down, then opened the other soda before taking the empty can. “Sarah, my colleagues would love to have you around,” Sutton said, not looking away. “You can read people like we can read viruses.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Sutton,” Sarah smiled and carried the empty can and plate out.

  “Holy shit,” Jackson gasped, leaning back in his chair. “That’s why the numbers are so skewed.”

  “Um, can you explain?” Paterson mumbled, looking at the rows of numbers.