Three Miles Out: Book One Page 4

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  Aaron Finch wasn’t a bad guy, at least he didn’t think so. Since he wasn’t married and had no children, he was able to go where his job dictated. He enjoyed it. Even though it was under dire circumstances he had the opportunity to see some pretty exotic places. From the Congo to Ukraine, even the outback, he had been there. Although, he wouldn’t classify Sandusky, Ohio as exotic, it was the most interesting and difficult case he had been involved with. This was the ‘big one,’ which he and every epidemiologist waited for their whole lives.

  Shrouded in secrecy, only a very select few knew why he was at the hospital. His lab, expedient operating room, decontamination area, and especially patient, Vivian Cramer’s room were all located in the old wing being prepped for remodeling. He was on call and on site twenty-four seven, that was his job… just as it was Vivian Cramer’s role, and anyone else that would join his case load.

  He hoped others like her would become available for research because he felt Vivian was on her way to being one very unique case study.

  Aaron was one of many of the DRAFT. Dispatched Research and Analysis Field Team. He had been in touch with all of the others through group email and only four others had someone special like Vivian.

  ‘Keep an eye out,’ one wrote. ‘I thought I had one and then at the twelve hour mark, it changed.’

  ‘Mine waited nearly twenty-four hours before it changed,’ another wrote.

  Aaron dismissed what they said, he was optimistic because Vivian wasn’t showing signs of any wound infection, the number one thing the others had.

  Clearly, she had made it beyond the twelve hour mark. He had those test results before him and was preparing to call them in to some Colonel in Maryland.

  Aaron questioned why that was. He wasn’t CDC, or WHO, or even FEMA. He was in the private sector, he worked at his own lab in Texas. Sure, he was always brought on site, but never before did he have to report to some Colonel, whose medical knowledge stopped at treating injuries on the field.

  He supposed her work had to do more with the cover up and keeping it from the public portion. On that mark, with all the other cases, she was doing a pretty good job.

  With a nurse on duty, and confident that Vivian would rest through the night, he prepared to call the colonel and then set his sights on his cot for a few hours sleep.

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  She had slept on her couch for a few hours. Linda knew the routine. Each incident had a DRAFT doctor assigned to it and each of them routinely called in. Sometimes Brian took the calls, but Linda tried to speak to them. The patients they dealt with were priority.

  Suffice to say, Linda had not slept much.

  She was awake and on her third sip of coffee when Doctor Aaron Finch called just after three am.

  “Sorry if I woke you,” he said.

  “No, I was awake. How is the Wakeman Woman?”

  “Emotional.”

  “Well, yes, she would be. Does she remember?”

  “She remembers what happened,” Aaron said. “But we haven’t gotten into details yet. We’re keeping her sedated in case the heart rate has something to do with the PVI-2 in the blood stream.”

  “Any signs.”

  “None whatsoever at the twelve hour mark. I am being cautious because there could be a delay. I’m going to say that I doubt it. She was bitten pretty bad, yet her wounds aren’t showing immediate infection.”

  “Good. Good.” Linda exhaled. “The facility should be ready in two days. I believe you are assigned to it?’

  “I am, but I am not going until Mrs. Cramer is free and clear and can be moved there.”

  “We should know in two days, right?”

  “We should,” Aaron said. “I’m not aware of any other surviving victims from Wakeman.”

  “Fortunately, Doctor, the Wakeman woman killed the soldier, number Fourteen, before he could attack anyone else outside the home. Which was a first. An autopsy will be performed on those victims tomorrow, or rather in a few hours, to see if they were infected at all prior to the attacks, especially since the father was a carrier.”

  “Any word from Wakeman, the town?” he asked. “I’m in the dark, I’m pretty focused on the woman.”

  “There were no other attacks. It stopped at soldier fourteen. However, we know his wife was caring for him and then went to work at a nursing home. Those at the home could potentially be a level two transmission. They can take up to a week to be symptomatic. However, we also know given the age of those in the home, they not only are more susceptible, but can also be symptomatic faster.”

  “Any level one transmissions?’

  “We’re watching law enforcement and emergency technicians that were on site.”

  “Sadly,” Aaron said. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with completely. It has changed twice, it could change again.”

  “I do understand. I know on your end that makes it harder to beat,” she said.

  “They’re working on it.”

  “There is a positive,” Linda said.

  “And that is?”

  “If we can’t cure it, we can defeat it,” she explained. “We keep those infected isolated and keep them from hurting and infecting anyone else. First sign of it in their blood we isolate them.”

  “Kill camps?” Aaron said.

  “If that’s what you want to call them. As harsh as it sounds, it is the only way to contain this. Round them up, euthanize them. Because once the infected dies, it’s dead,” she said. “They can’t spread the infection anymore.”

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  At the age of twenty-two Jerry Petrielo decided he wanted to go to college. But he was smart and knew he didn’t want to take on that sort of debt. Especially since he wanted to be a teacher. Student loan payments would be far too high for the salary he’d make as a middle school educator. He made the decision to join the Army Reserves, and he believed it to be the smartest one of his life. One weekend a month, two weeks out of the year and college was paid for. With the exception of the two deployments he had seen, it wasn’t bad.

  Except for his current situation.

  His unit was put on alert for a domestic deployment. He wasn’t told what, or where. Jerry assumed it was a disaster of some kind, or a flood.

  He never thought he would have been called to seal up a small Ohioan village with a population of a little over a thousand, for a murder none the less.

  The perimeters were easy enough. Only a few roads led in or out. Outside of Wakeman people were told it was a gas leak. Which seemed to be a common occurrence in the United States lately. The residents however were told it was a possible rabies outbreak, and they were to stay in their homes.

  It was some sort of infection; Jerry knew that. He wasn’t told what it was. Rabies sounded just about right to him. One of the residents went nuts and killed their entire family.

  There weren’t many soldiers on the ground in Wakeman. Some held posts keeping the town closed, others walked a beat, and some, like Jerry, took shifts between patrolling outside the by County Meadows Assisted Living, and sitting a block away, inside and outside, of a twenty foot trailer, set up as a temporary morgue.

  Jerry thought it was wrong to put the morgue so close to the Assisted Living. He thought about those who lived there, looking out and seeing it. Then again, they probably didn’t know what it really was.

  He also didn’t understand why they needed not only a temporary morgue, but such a large one at that. They must have expected more people to be infected, thankfully that didn’t happen.

  There were only three victims.

  It was Jerry’s job, along with another soldier, to guard the morgue trailer that housed them.

  For the next four hours, he and the other guy would guard the area around the trailer, and once an hour go inside and check the temperature, along with making sure the phones and computers were operational.

  Easy enough.

  It was quiet so far. Jerry would walk around, occasi
onally looking over to the guards outside of the Assisted Living.

  Now it was his turn to do it.

  He wasn’t privy to the details of the family massacre. No one warned him when he stepped inside the morgue and turned on the main light he would not only see three bodies, but three small ones, too.

  As a teacher, it hit him really hard when he saw them.

  His heart sunk a little and immediately he just wanted to get out.

  Three bodies on three tables. One was really small.

  First thing he did was check the temperature, it was fine. Then he lifted the phone … worked. Lastly was the computer. Was it running and did it have internet connection?

  He walked over to it and that was when he saw the clipboard. On it was a preliminary report, he spotted the names.

  Kaddy, Karen, and Kira Cramer.

  All sisters.

  He ran his finger over the mouse pad and woke the computer from power saving mode. He saw a connection and just wanted to leave.

  Turning, he caught sight of something through the corner of his eye.

  His heart skipped a beat as he spun around.

  Nothing.

  He shook his head in disbelief at how he had spooked himself, he then walked toward the door and reached to shut off the main light.

  After he did, he looked back to make sure the lab lights were still on. They were and gave a blue hue to the back portion of the morgue where the bodies were.

  Just as he was ready to leave, he saw it again, movement. Only this time it didn’t scare him. He was certain he had seen something.

  One of the sheets had moved.

  Jerry went to investigate. More than likely it was the air conditioning.

  Slowly he walked towards the back area near the bodies.

  He lifted his hand toward the ceiling to see if he could catch the breeze, but he felt nothing and heard nothing.

  Jerry chuckled. “It’s your imagination. What is wrong with you?”

  After exhaling in relief, he took one step back before jumping from his skin. He wanted to run, but he was frozen in his stance.

  The first body to his left, that of Kaddy Cramer … sat up.

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  He wasn’t spry, he wasn’t quick, but Bert Daniels shot from lying to a sitting position the moment he heard that ungodly scream. He hadn’t moved or jolted that fast in decades, not even when he had to use the bathroom.

  He wasn’t sleeping. He had a hard time sleeping since they placed a quarantine on Country Meadows. So he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

  He heard that scream.

  A male voice, long and loud. It had an echoing sound to it, but it wasn’t far away.

  He swung his legs over the bed and pulled his walker near to steady himself as he stood.

  It came from outside, and Bert inched his way to the window not far from his bed.

  He was on the ground floor, the drapes were partially drawn and the window was open just a smidge.

  As soon as he reached the window, he heard another scream.

  Instantly, he slammed the window closed, locked it and pulled the drapes together.

  ‘Calm down, Bert. Calm down,’ he told himself. ‘You don’t want to have a coronary.’

  Drawing up courage, he leaned forwarded. Hand on the drape, he parted them slightly and he peered out the window. Not far from the edge of the parking lot was that government trailer. The lights flickered, other soldiers ran toward it.

  When yet, another scream rang out, Bert pulled back.

  “Good Lord,” Bert swiped his hand across this mouth.

  Something was happening and it wasn’t good.

  Screaming, soldiers running, then more screaming and shouting.

  Holding his walker, Bert moved across his room. He paused in the kitchenette area and checked his cupboards. Then he made his way to his room door.

  The doors on the room were heavy, fire doors, and rules be damned, Bert reached up and locked it.

  He had food, crackers, cheese, mainly snack stuff, but food nonetheless. Plus, he was safe. No one was getting in and Bert wasn’t going anywhere until the craziness was done.

  He just wished he knew exactly what the craziness was.

  SEVEN – AN OUNCE OF TRUTH

  “Parasitosis.” Brickman was his name, or at least Linda believed that was his name. He was the lead scientist from a private sector BSL 4 lab working on the case. He occupied the top right hand square of her four screen video conference.

  The President was in the upper left.

  “Parasitosis,” Brickman repeated.

  “Para … what?” asked the President.

  “A parasite. Sort of,” he said. “Four months ago …”

  “Four months?” the President blasted. “Why did I only hear about this two weeks ago?”

  Brickman replied, “Because it wasn’t a national emergency, and possibly global until then. With all due respect, I will be more than happy to continue with my findings if you care to listen?”

  The President waved his hand. “Go ahead. Four months ago is when what happened?”

  “Thirty soldiers returning from Niger,” Linda explained. “Eighteen of them got sick on the flight and were brought here to Walter Reed. We isolated the other twelve. They never showed symptoms. We were treating them here and they made a full recovery. We thought nothing of it.”

  Brickman added. “They all demonstrated flu like symptoms. Fever, chills, headache, coughing. Problem was, it wasn’t a bacteria or virus, it was a parasitic infection. Most people when they think parasite, they think tapeworm or something you can easily see. It’s not that simple. And sometimes neither is treating it. I received samples from the first wave, and it is like nothing I have ever seen. Parasites are always changing and evolving, they will survive when all else dies.”

  “How did eighteen soldiers get it?” the President asked.

  “Same source,” Brickman answered. “Sir, there are two ways to get infected with a parasite. Either the parasite itself, usually from direct contact via saliva or water. They get into your body, lay eggs in the digestive tract and from there the parasite makes its way through the blood stream, usually to the brain. Or the other way is to ingest or come in contact with a larva, which enter the system very easily. Parasitic infections are highly contagious. Usually you are highly contagious before you show any symptoms.”

  “We followed procedure,” Linda said. “We treated them with antiparasitic drugs. They recovered and we sent them on their way. That is why you didn’t know.”

  “Thirty soldiers, twenty locations,” Brickman said, “Parasites are also resistant to antiparasitic drugs. Some go dormant and then come back stronger, as it did with these men. It took eight weeks and they got ill once more. They were all brought back to Walter Reed. It was then they discovered they needed to try phage therapy.”

  “And that is?” The President asked.

  “Killing the parasite with a virus.” Brickman said. “It’s common. It was tough to find the correct phage virus to combat it, but they did. Again, the men recovered, they were kept an extra week and sent back home. And that’s when it started. The parasite didn’t succumb to the virus, it married it.”

  The President sighed out and sat back. ‘I’m not a scientist, but to me it sounds like it mutated.”

  “It did, and badly, too,” Brickman said. “When the new and improved parasitic virus woke up, it caused severe flu like symptoms as the body tried to fight it, until it took over the brain completely. The infected lost all reasoning and became enraged and maddened as if on some sort of mind control substance. Exhibiting great strength and extremely dangerous behavior.”

  “And contagious.” The President added.

  “They were contagious long before they lost their minds. At that point, out of control. I told you the parasite was like nothing I have ever seen. Now you have this super microscopic … thing … which is impervious to everything, except extreme cold and long exposure to
high temperatures.”

  “Not true,” Linda intervened. “There are four people right now who are showing no signs of infection when they should have. Their bodies are combating it.”

  “And we’re planning to work with that,” Brickman said. “Right now, this scares me. Mother Nature created a fantastic biological weapon. Man made it better and inadvertently deployed it by way of eighteen infected soldiers, sending them out and across the country to spread the seed wherever they went.”

  “Christ.” The President rubbed his forehead. “Do we know …”

  Linda didn’t hear what the President said. Her attention went to Brian who stepped into the office without knocking. He wouldn’t have done so if it wasn’t important. By the look on his face something was dire.

  Over the laptop he handed her an open folder.

  She hit ‘mute’ on her computer’s microphone and looked. Her eyes widened and immediately she unmuted her end of the conversion. “Mr. President, I have to get back to you.”

  “Are you goddamn kidding me?” the President said. “You keep me in the dark at how bad this thing is and then…”

  “I have to go.” Linda stood up.

  “This better be important.”

  “It is.” She shut the laptop lid.

  “Did you just hang up on the President?” Brian asked.

  “I did.” She stared at the folder. “This can’t be right.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “It’s impossible.”

  “Not really. Before today I would have thought so. The photos show otherwise,” Brian pointed. “There’s video as well.”

  “And is Wakeman the only report of this?” she asked.

  “At this time. What do you want to do?”

  “Seal it up. In fact, seal up all twenty locations. Bring in extra soldiers if you have to, but seal them in tight until we can figure this out. No one gets in, or out. Whether they are sick, well, alive or …” She closed the folder. “Dead. No one leaves those towns.”

  EIGHT – CHANGES