H7N9- The Complete Series

by Mark Campbell

  Ein sighed. “I’m starting to think we should’ve taken our chances and stayed in Dover…”

  Teddy said nothing and kept moving forward.

  One of the rear service doors of the warehouse was unlocked.

  They took refuge inside and waited.

  CHAPTER 15

  JANUARY 1st

  1:14 AM

  Even though it was well below freezing outside, Fox was sweltering inside the white protective suit. The hood’s plastic visor fogged with each breath, and the whirl of the oxygen pump attached around his waist made his ears ring.

  Worse than anything, he was so exhausted.

  All he wanted to do was to go home.

  At least it would all be over soon.

  He walked next to a medical officer who had been flown in from the Atlanta Safe Zone.

  The medical officer, Dr. Lance Jones, wore the same type of protective suit. A small LED lamp affixed on the interior of the suit’s hood reflected off of the moonfaced doctor’s eyeglasses.

  They walked down the center of two rows of army cots positioned inside of the church. White-suits that bore the CDC emblem on their shoulders meandered between the beds and collected blood samples. Those who were still conscious and not driven mad with feverish delirium cried out and begged for help, but their cries fell on deaf ears as the white-suits continued their duties like cold, emotionless automatons.

  Fox counted at least sixty people lying on the cots, but he imagined that number would diminish throughout the night as they succumbed one-by-one.

  “This looks worse than what I’ve seen before.” Fox’s voice had a somewhat distorted, robotic quality as it emitted from the speaker attached to his suit’s chest. “Are you positive we’re dealing with the same virus?”

  “I’m fairly confident, but I won’t be completely sure until I can review the samples in a proper laboratory setting. The rapid field test kits are useless—the mutations have been too pronounced.” Jones looked down and flipped through some papers attached to a clipboard. “It appears that the antigens have significantly drifted… Neither the original type A strain nor the subsequent type B variant had such pronounced gastrointestinal symptoms.”

  Fox shook his head. It took just forty-eight hours for the germ to strike down an entire town, he marveled. “The sooner we find and eliminate this Ein Becker, the better off we’ll be.”

  Ein was the last one, and Fox knew what had to be done.

  After all, the general wasn’t a fool—he knew that keeping asymptomatic carriers around was far too dangerous.

  He ordered all of the remaining quarantine centers and work camps to execute the confirmed and suspected carriers.

  The ones with an abnormally vigorous immune response such as Teddy Sanders—there were very few—were to be transported to a specialized BSL-4 laboratory in Atlanta for further vaccine research.

  All that was left for him to do was to track down and deal with the loose ends.

  He was so close, too.

  So very close.

  “The good news is that we were able to reasonably ascertain that Becker and Sanders are headed north towards a larger settlement via the Cumberland River,” Jones said. “The information that they were traveling by water was vetted by six sources who all told us the same thing—they even saw them cast off on December 29th.”

  Fox wasn’t the type who was satisfied with speculation. “I want to speak to them.”

  Jones hesitated. “Five of them have already expired.”

  “And yet none of the deceased knew for certain where the subjects were headed?” Annoyance was evident in the general’s voice.

  “The only one whom they said may have known relevant information refuses to share it with us out of concern for their safety.”

  “Who?” Fox asked in a dark voice as he looked around at the cots.

  Jones pointed at one of the cots at the far end of the row. “The priest… He’s still lucid and communicable, but I’m not sure how long that will last.”

  “You couldn’t make him talk?”

  Jones shook his head. “Even near death, he’s a very stubborn individual. We considered utilizing sodium pentothal or another psychoactive drug, but his system is too weak.”

  Fox dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “There’s no need for such theatrics. I’ll speak with him myself.”

  Fox walked towards the cot and stared down at the feeble, bedridden priest. He crouched down as best as his bulky white-suit would allow and whispered into the mic inside his hood. “How are you feeling?”

  Castello opened his milky eyes and looked over at the general. “At peace.” Each labored breath came out in a wispy, rattling wheeze. “I’ll be home soon…”

  “Yes.” Fox smiled behind his visor. “Before you go, I need to know about the men who visited you in the boat and where they’re going.”

  “I’m not going to let you hurt them.” Costello gazed up vacantly at the church rafters, wheezing.

  “Who said that we’re going to harm them?” Fox asked. “I was planning nothing of the sort.”

  “What do—” He gasped for breath and let out a series of wet coughs before he was able to continue speaking. “What do you people want with them?”

  “I want to help them.” Fox smiled again, but his hood’s lamp cast a shadow that made it look more like a sinister smirk. “We didn’t make it in time to help you, but it’s not too late for them.”

  Costello reached a trembling hand up and clutched at the silver crucifix that dangled around his neck. As he held onto it, he shifted his gaze towards Fox. “They’re beyond your help… The seals are open, and man’s time is at an end.”

  “I still must try,” Fox gently pressed. “It’s the right thing to do… Please, father—let me try.” He reached over and placed his gloved hand on top of Costello’s as he clutched the crucifix. “I’m a Christian as well, you see. Surely I have been led to you for a reason.”

  The line, full of feigned concern, captured Costello’s attention.

  “Perhaps so.” Costello gave him a weak smile. He was too weak to sense the deception in the man’s voice, or he was too weak to care any longer. “They’re going south… Mississippi River…” He stopped and let out another rattling chain of coughs.

  “South, you say?” Fox asked. “He’s not traveling north along the Cumberland?”

  “No. He thinks salvation awaits him in the Gulf of Mexico. Teddy’s a lost, confused soul. I pray for him.” Costello reached up with his other hand and laid it atop Fox’s gloved hand. “Will you pray with me?”

  Fox tore his hand away from the man’s boney grasp, stood up, and started walking towards the exit. He pointed at one of the soldiers wearing a white-suit who stood guard just inside the doorway. “Bring me Lt. Harrison immediately. Tell him to get me two of his UAVs in the air and—”

  “Sir,” the soldier cut-in, “Lieutenant Harrison went back to Memphis.”

  Fox was caught off guard by the news. “Memphis? What on earth for?”

  “They’re having some problem with one of the regional rebel factions. He didn’t go into much more detail than that, but he left in a hurry and took six of his men with him.”

  “Fine,” Fox growled. It infuriated him that Harrison hadn't cleared it with him first. “Get command on the line then!”

  “Yes sir, I’ll patch them through.” The soldier snapped a salute and hurried towards the make-shift radio command center erected in the belfry.

  Fox pushed the doors open and stepped outside.

  A massive human bonfire burnt in the middle of the town square in front of the church. White-suits carried corpses in wheelbarrows from the old storefronts and alleyways. They tossed the dead unceremoniously into the flames, while others kept the fire burning with chemical flamethrowers.

  Generator powered flood lamps and yellow tents surrounded Dover’s perimeter. Helicopters hovered low overhead and scanned the rooftops with their searchlights.
/>   Fox stared out passively at the flurry of activity.

  Jones walked up and stood beside him. “How long until you find them?”

  “Once we get a few high-altitude UAVs in the air over the Mississippi, it shouldn’t take long.” Fox turned towards the doctor. “I’ll capture Sanders for you, but I cannot allow Becker to live. You understand that, right?”

  Jones waved a gloved hand in the air. “Becker and other asymptomatic carriers like him are irrelevant to the vaccine program. However, I do hope you know that there are more like him out there.”

  “I’m aware—we have already lost two safe zones thanks to them.” Fox sighed and stared at the flames. “We’ll find them, though, and we get rid of them.”

  The two men watched as white-suits hurled corpses into the fire.

  “Does your team have everything they need from here?” Fox asked after some time.

  “We’re almost done collecting the samples that we need.”

  “Good. Your team needs to be out of here by sunrise.”

  “Why? What’s happening at sunrise?” Jones asked.

  “Word came in as soon as I landed. Central Command is issuing Contingency Plan Julia to deal with this new strain and the contaminated area.”

  “Thermobaric weapons?” Jones seemed surprised. “Isn’t that somewhat extreme?”

  “These new variants frighten the old men,” Fox explained. “I guess they don’t want any of these super germs sneaking into their underground hidey-hole.”

  “Your office is in the Cheyenne Complex as well, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Just curious if you’re afraid as well.”

  “No—not anymore.” Fox’s voice was flat. “I’ve been on borrowed time ever since this whole mess started. Fear left me months ago. Now? Well, I’m just tired.”

  “We’re all tired.” Jones pulled the clipboard out from underneath his arm and glanced down at the affixed reports. “If you’ll excuse me, general, I need to go check in with Doctor Andrews and make sure that he’s aware of our timetable.”

  Fox nodded. “Take care, Jones.”

  “You as well.” Jones clapped Fox on the back. “Try to cheer up—this will be over soon.”

  “Yes, it’ll be over soon,” Fox agreed.

  Jones walked down the steps onto the courtyard and disappeared into one of the medical tents.

  Alone again, Fox sighed and held his left arm out in front of him. His weary eyes lingered on his forearm.

  He didn’t see anything, but he knew for sure that it was there.

  There was no doubt in his mind that the wooden splinter had poked through.

  It happened when they were walking through the apartment above the bookstore to look at the bodies of the two women who were suspected to be the town’s first cases.

  It was a stupid, clumsy move to bump against that building’s old rotten doorframe, and he never would’ve done it if he wasn’t so goddamn tired.

  After staring at his arm for several minutes, Fox finally saw the hole.

  It was no larger than a needlepoint, but it was there nonetheless.

  A steady supply of air whooshed out of the hole—he felt the air with the palm of his other hand.

  Fox waved his hand over the hole of his compromised environmental suit and felt an odd, cold detachment from reality.

  Surely, something so small and insignificant couldn’t infect him, could it?

  Why should he report it?

  They’d make a big deal out of nothing.

  He just wanted to go home.

  He was tired—so tired.

  The church doors opened, and a young soldier wearing a white-suit stepped outside. “General Fox, sir, Command is standing by on the secure line.”

  Fox quickly lowered his arm and composed himself once again. “I’m coming.”

  He turned and followed the soldier back inside the church.

  It would all be over very soon.

  CHAPTER 16

  Judging by the battery-operated clock hanging in the warehouse supervisor’s office, it was just past three in the morning. Still, the gunfire and explosions had been going on ever since sundown.

  A company banner for “J.P. Powell’s Logistics” was tacked over the clock, and multiple pin-ups of girls in swimsuits hung underneath.

  It was a garish display that suited the tacky office perfectly.

  The wood-paneled office with its chipped veneer desk, beaten-up metal filing cabinets, dusty fake ferns, and a large fax machine was a throwback to the eighties. Stale cigarette smoke clung to everything inside the room and stained the ceiling in an awful shade of yellow.

  Two of the overhead fluorescent fixtures had burnt out, but the last one remained operational.

  Teddy sat on the rickety old executive chair, his fingers laced behind his head, and his feet propped up on the desk. He stared impatiently at the clock.

  Ein sat on the floor and leaned against one of the filing cabinets. His chin rested on his chest, and he snored quietly.

  How the kid managed to get any sleep through all the ruckus, Teddy hadn’t a clue.

  There was another explosion—closer.

  The building shook, and the light flickered.

  Ein was nudged out of sleep and looked up at the clock. “They’re at it again?”

  “They never stopped.”

  Ein rubbed the crud out of his eyes and yawned. “Still think it’s bandits?”

  “Most likely.” Teddy brought his feet down and stretched. “Either way, we need to move.”

  “During this?” Ein looked at him doubtfully. “No way—it sounds like a warzone out there.”

  “Yeah, that’s the point.” Teddy stood up and put his duster back on. “The uniforms will be distracted, and we’ll be able to slide past them. This chaos actually works to our advantage.”

  “I don’t know, man…” Ein frowned and got on his feet. “I don’t like this.”

  “Just stick close to me.”

  They left the office and walked through the warehouse. The industrial sodium vapor lamps swayed overhead, and dust fluttered down from the steel rafters as the building trembled with each resounding mortar explosion.

  As they approached the loading dock door and prepared to step outside, the explosions stopped.

  Everything stopped.

  Teddy froze for a moment and listened to the sudden, uneasy silence.

  Ein cocked his head and glanced around the warehouse. “Is that it?”

  “Sounds like it,” Teddy answered quietly.

  “What happened?”

  “I guess someone won.” Teddy pushed the door open, peered outside, and then motioned for Ein. “Come on. Keep quiet.”

  Outside, the bitterly cold air was thick with smoke and cordite. The grey haze blotted out the moonlight and diffused the streetlights, giving the entire area a ghostly glow.

  Teddy hurried to the pier, and then came to an abrupt stop as he stared out at the river with sickening horror.

  Hundreds of bodies floated face down in the river, and their blood had turned the water red. Many wore uniforms, but most did not.

  These poor fuckers are from the safe zone, Teddy realized as he looked at the bullet-riddled corpses of civilians. It took a special kind of monster to indiscriminately fire at unarmed innocents who were probably doing nothing more than trying to flee from the carnage, but he was getting uncomfortably accustomed to witnessing humanity’s moral degradation.

  He noticed that many of the soldiers weren’t wearing FEMA uniforms and had on a mishmash of items that looked as if they had been picked off an old army surplus shelve.

  Militiamen, Teddy realized.

  They were a well-armed militia judging by the commotion they made.

  Ein, standing next to Teddy, covered his mouth with disgust at the sight of a child floating along nearby like driftwood.

  Luckily, the speedboat was still there.

  Teddy pulled the wooden planks a
nd trash off the top of the boat and then hopped inside.

  Ein stood spellbound on the pier and kept gazing out at the dead.

  “Come on, kid,” Teddy urged as he untied the anchor. “There’s nothing we can do for them. If we don’t get out of here soon, the chances are that we’ll be joining them.”

  He helped Ein onto the boat and then started the engine.

  Teddy pointed at one of the splintered planks that were still onboard. “Take that piece of wood and clear us a path forward… Make sure I don’t drive us right into a steel beam or something.”

  “Got it.” Ein picked the plank and hurried towards the front of the ship.

  Teddy moved the boat at a snail’s pace along the side of the barge and used the massive vessel as cover.

  Ein leaned over the bow and pushed bodies away with the plank.

  A few corpses rolled under the craft and knocked against the hull’s underside with a dull THUMP.

  “Don’t let them go underneath!” Teddy pulled back on the throttle some. “If they hit the propeller, they’ll gum it up!”

  “I’m trying my best,” Ein said as he kept pushing the dead away. “There’s too many of them!”

  Another THUMP as a body scraped underneath.

  “Try harder!”

  Ein narrowed his eyes, frustrated. “If you want to switch places, be my—” Fear stole his voice as a bloodied FEMA officer who was floating on his back suddenly grabbed the plank and latched onto it with both hands.

  The officer looked at Ein with protruding, bloodshot eyes and tried pulling himself up the plank. “Helppp meee.” His garbled voice came out as a croak, and red foam came out of his mouth.

  Ein screamed and let go of the plank.

  The officer was sucked underneath the boat and rolled along the underside with a THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.

  “Goddammit, kid!” Teddy snapped.

  “It was an accident!” Ein said as he backed away from the bow. “He grabbed the fucking thing!”

  The boat jerked violently as the officer struck the engine’s propeller.

  A gory mixture of fleshy chunks, tattered cloth, and blood shot out from under the stern.