by J P Whitney
ED3N
J.P. WHITNEY
Copyright © 2019 by Justin Whitney
Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Written and published in the United States of America
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Cherie Chapman.
For permissions contact: [email protected]
First publishing edition 2019.
Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue - Chapter 41
AFTERWORD
Title Page
CHAPTER 1 - ARRIVAL
Chapter 1
Headlines
The newsstand is dead. At least that was the general sentiment throughout most of North America. Displaced by personally curated topics, little of which was actual news, consumed on smartphones, digital readers, and laptops.
“Dying, but not dead yet”, Johnnie thought to herself.
Eventually, this notion had become somewhat of a mantra as she opened the newsstand each morning. Wondering if today was the day her faithful customers, primarily train commuters from the suburbs, would finally decide to give up the archaic act of getting inky newsprint on their fingers and instead convert one hundred percent to electronic headlines to satiate their appetite for gossip, scores, scandals, political corruption, failing economies, domestic violence and war.
Johnnie knew her ‘not dead yet’ mantra wasn’t enough of a talisman to protect her from the eventual demise of print in exchange for the instant gratification of electronic information. But she also had a secret weapon for grabbing the attention of commuters and he was going to be armed with a lot of ammo this morning based on what she could see on the front page of the bundled stacks papers lined out before her.
She thumbed the speed release of her compact folding knife, the blade locked into place with a satisfying click, and carefully cut the straps on the Friday edition of The Oregonian.
“Holy shit. Eli is going to have a heyday with these,” Johnnie mumbled to herself as she casually flipped through the sections. The papers were going to sell out quickly this morning, that was a given. For some morbid reason, she could never quite understand, customers always wanted a hard copy of the news when tragedy struck. Sure, some wanted to collect the occasional good news but that was typically sports-related. People were especially drawn to negative headlines.
“Must have something to do with our primitive reptilian genes,” she thought to herself reflecting on a few of the negative headlines that had seared themselves into her own brain over the years.
Challenger explodes; no hope for 7 in crew.
Princess Diana, friend killed in Paris car crash.
Highjacked jets destroy twin towers.
Jacko is dead.
Twenty-seven years she’d sold the news, but never had so many headlines foreshadowed genuine doom and gloom as those she read while sorting stacks of various publications on this day.
ASIAN AGGRESSION MAY TRIGGER WORLD WAR III
N. KOREA ACCUSATIONS OF BIOTERRORISM END IN EMP DETONATION OVER JAPAN
NATO MOBILIZES ANTI-MISSILE SHIELD; RUSSIAN ICBMS POSITIONED FOR STRIKE
LONDON STOCK EXCHANGE CRASHES AS CHINA HALTS ALL EXPORTS; NYSE NEXT!
HUNDREDS DEAD AS HONG KONG HIT BY DEADLY FLU
RETURN OF SPANISH FLU?
Maybe it was the historic inference or the simplistically phrased question, but the last headline seized Johnnie’s attention in a way she couldn’t shake. Sure, she usually scanned the headlines to aid in small talk with her customers but rarely did she actually read the articles. Knowing full well she was falling for the physical clickbait, Johnnie spread the paper on the counter and continued to read.
HEALTH OFFICIALS WARN HONG KONG FLU HAS PANDEMIC POTENTIAL AS WORLD BRACES FOR WAR (May 28, 2021)
The second wave of the 1918 pandemic appeared with a vengeance in the fall of that same year. Victims died within hours or days of their symptoms appearing, their skin turning blue and their lungs filling with fluid that caused them to suffocate.
And now, with international superpowers on the verge of World War III, a mysterious strain of influenza has surfaced with symptoms comparable to the Spanish Flu of 1918. Hundreds of Chinese and North Koreans have already suffered a similar horrific death and the CDC warns of the potential for a pandemic on an unimaginable scale unless a vaccine can be developed.
Even more disturbing, North Korean officials claim the new strain of influenza was intentionally modified to be lethal. “This disgusting act of bioterrorism will not be tolerated. Our enemies are attempting to weaken our sovereign nation with a manufactured virus that is killing our citizens in a clear violation of the Geneva Convention. The evidence is irrefutable, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea has been systematically targeted with a modified strain of H1N1. We will not stand by and wait for the global community to wring their hands and apply impotent sanctions against those responsible. This is a clear act of war and retribution will be swift and sure,” stated the Supreme Leader Kim Jong-un.
These words were not an idle threat as North Korea struck back at their alleged enemies late last night when multiple rockets equipped with nuclear warheads detonated approximately twenty miles above the Sea of Japan releasing an electromagnetic pulse that crippled the electrical grid of Tokyo and surrounding areas. The EMP blast left a significant portion of the island without power, and thousands dead, after sensitive flight control and navigation equipment malfunctioned and brought down at least three commercial jets. Experts believe it could be months before power and communications are reestablished.
Fifteen minutes later, in what Russian officials claim was a preemptive strike by South Korea, several nuclear warheads struck the North Korean capital of Pyongyang and its population of more than three million people. Seoul’s President vehemently denied these charges and instead declared a state of emergency on the Korean peninsula amid fears the radioactive fallout will poison their own population as well as continue to decimate that of North Korea. “We don’t know who is responsible for the horrific attack on our neighbors to the North, but we can report that the results were catastrophic not only in their country but ours as wel
l. Fatalities have already been reported in the border town of Daeseong-dong in the DMZ. As the winds shift, more of Korea will be exposed to the radioactive fallout. We pray for the deceased and dying and implore the global community to come together in solidarity to limit further escalations and instead send humanitarian aid to our devastated peninsula.”
In response to the viral outbreaks in mainland China, authorities are taking a more measured tone but agree the virus was intentionally modified, a clear violation of the Geneva Convention, and an Act of War. Lines of cordon sanitaire have been established around several districts within Hong Kong to limit the spread of the disease. Claims of intentionally released strains of influenza with lethal mutations have resulted in Defense Minister Xie placing all branches of the military on high alert while blocking both the import and export of all goods as well as inbound international flights. “We will focus all of our might on identifying who is responsible for these deliberate acts of bioterrorism. And until our enemy has been dealt with, all goods will be kept at home except for the aid we send to Korea. But let there be no doubt. This was an act of war and there will be hell to pay.”
In stark contrast, a social media post from one member of the Chinese Democracy Movement blames the outbreaks on their own government. “The communist fascist government of China is trying to silence us through this calculated and vicious release of the virus. As global support for our movement grows along with the condemnation of the illegal imprisonment, torture, and murder of our people, the government knows using additional force against us would only stir up more international support. Instead, they have released a deadly virus that is indiscriminately killing our protesters in Hong Kong. They are targeting their own citizens in the most heinous act of genocide yet and are starting to infect the rest of the world. What happened in North Korea is no coincidence. And they are pointing fingers of blame at other countries while intentionally destabilizing the region. Calling up all branches of the military and halting the export of goods further proves the government is isolating itself in preparation for world war. The Communist Party of China must be overthrown now before its too late!”
“Christ almighty, this world is coming apart at the seams,” Johnnie exhaled in stunned disbelief.
Chapter 2
Failed Test
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The classroom was so quiet Bryce Olsen could literally hear the mechanical movement of the clock that hung directly above his desk. He paused to look up from his history test and saw only nine minutes remained in period four.
Bryce chewed his pencil while contemplating answers and his teeth left slight depressions in the yellow paint. Something didn’t feel right about question forty-two. He erased the bubble for answer A, Operation Barbarossa, and brushed the rubber crumbs off his desk onto the linoleum floor. He recalled that Barbarossa was actually the code name of Germany’s plan to invade the USSR and changed his mind, carefully filling in answer C instead. Operation Overlord. The only remaining codename that made sense for the Allied Invasion of Europe.
Now only eight minutes remained. One minute for each of the last eight questions. Plenty of time if he focused and stopped thinking about the text from the cute redhead that sat two desks away.
‘Coffee after school?’ was all it read. Even though he was up until 2 AM, it wasn’t the promise of the much-needed caffeine that distracted him. In fact, he hated coffee. But she liked it and he would gladly suffer through the bitter taste to spend more time with her. They had been partners for the final project, something had clicked, and over the last week and a half, the two had spent several hours each night studying. That was all it had taken for Bryce to become hooked. Coffee would be the reward for all the hard work put into preparing for finals.
Tick. Tick.
The daydream was broken by a muffled cough from his best friend in the desk to his left. Then another. Was Jonathan trying to get his attention during the exam? It would be just like Jonathan to make him laugh in the dead silence with his quirky ability to cross his eyes then move them independently until they appeared to ricochet off one another. Or worse, was he looking for help with one of the questions? Time was running out but Bryce couldn’t help himself and stealthily stole a glance out of the corner of his eye and found the cough wasn’t meant for him at all. Jonathan stared in shocked disbelief at red speckles in the palm of the hand he had used to stifle the last cough. And something even more horrific caught Bryce's attention. A small rivulet of crimson snaked from Jonathan’s right ear canal to the lobe where a droplet quivered briefly in suspension before splashing onto the collar of his white t-shirt.
The movement of the second hand slowed and each tick echoed loudly in Bryce’s head as he became transfixed by the surreal scene playing out before him. Another cough, this one more violent, sent a fine mist of pink into the air where it floated like dust particles before settling onto Jonathan’s desktop. Suddenly, all the color drained from his face and he listed sideways toward Bryce as though he’d dozed off. But instead of waking at the last second, gravity won out and Jonathan fell out of his desk and smacked headfirst onto the floor of the classroom.
Tick.
A few students snickered without looking up, not surprised by yet another Jonathan-attention-getting stunt, he was the class clown after all and he took his job seriously. But the teacher shushed everyone as she worriedly rose from her desk. He wasn't moving. The scratching of pencil on paper and the murmuring of the students came to a sudden stop. Only the scraping of chair legs followed by the soft squeak of rubber soles on polished tiles cut through the silence as the teacher hurried to Jonathan's side. A collective gasp cut through the room as she gently rolled him onto his back. For Bryce, the second-hand stopped ticking entirely.
The look on his best friend’s face was chilling. Bloodshot eyes bulged from his thousand-yard stare. His face, ears, and neck were a grey-blue and stood in stark contrast to the bright red mess that foamed from his mouth as he gurgled incoherently. A steady stream of blood pulsed from each nostril.
Within seconds a pool formed around Jonathan’s head and slowly crept toward the legs of the nearest desk. The girl from Bryce’s daydream took a deep breath and let out an ear-piercing scream as she realized the puddle of red was gathering around her shoes.
Bryce didn't remember leaving his desk but found himself on the floor, cradling Jonathan in his lap. It was a stupid, desperate idea but maybe if he elevated his head, the bleeding would slow. For a moment, it appeared to work. The pulsing from both nostrils lessened and eventually stopped. Then reality set in. Jonathan’s breathing had stopped as well.
His best friend had gone from taking a test to bleeding to death in minutes. The anguished look on the otherworldly, cyanotic face was haunting. Through the buzzing in his ears, Bryce could just make out the final bell as the floor beneath him tilted and he slipped into darkness.
Chapter 3
Blue
David Jones, Director of the National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, reviewed the health statistics on the latest influenza outbreak and shook his head in disbelief. Two numbers stood out in particular. 9748 and 9613. Cases and Deaths. A case-fatality ratio of nearly 100% in the United States.
“Jesus H, this disease really is the perfect killer,” he thought to himself.
But as shocking as those figures were, the molecular test reports baffled him even more. Viral genetic material recovered from one of the victims indicated there were actually two strains …
Just then Ruth Atkins, Principal Deputy Director of the CDC in Atlanta, burst into the room in such a hurry the door rebounded off the rubber wall stop and slammed itself shut. David knew Washington's top brass were demanding answers but barging in unannounced wasn’t her style. She could have at least knocked first, the door was closed for a reason.
“David, there are two things we need to determine immediately,” she blurted out in a breathless rush of words but paused when his face flu
shed as though she’d caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. No, that wasn’t quite right. It was fleeting … but irritation and maybe something darker flashed in the hard set of his eyes before he quickly regained his composure. An odd reaction for David because in all the years they’d worked together he’d always been patient, approachable, and calm. But if the mess of papers spread across his desk were any indication he was probably deep in thought before her interruption. So, with an audible sigh, she sunk into one of the chairs in front of his desk and tried again.
“Sorry for interruption David, I should have called to see if your calendar was open. I’m just exasperated with officials in DC, the press, and their unrelenting requests for updates. I get it, people are scared. But they don’t understand it takes time to get the facts straight when dealing with outbreaks of this magnitude.”
“Ruth, you don’t need to apologize. There’s stress enough for the both of us and shit rolls downhill as they say. And you’re my boss for heaven's sake, you don’t need to call first. I was just reviewing some of the figures … but what are the two things you’d like to discuss?” David asked diplomatically now back to his amiable self.
“First, is this strain the return of the Spanish flu … are we teetering on the edge of a global pandemic here? Second, and maybe more importantly, was this an act of bioterrorism and a deliberately modified virus as China and North Korea claim?”
