Cough (20 page)

“Don’t need electricity to run a church.”

“I still find that hard to believe. What’s up?”

“I have a favor and it’s gonna take a few days of your time. Maybe more.”

Stokes folded his arms. “Shoot.”

“The treatment we’re giving folks, well, it’s not public. More than likely it will be. When that happens, things are gonna be tight for the medication. And sadly, if folks are showing up to work to run the power company, I don’t they’re gonna show up for work at the pharmaceutical factories either.”

Stokes sighed out. “Eventually the medication will run out.”

“Yep. And those who are infected won’t stand a chance.”

“Unless the virus disappears. Like any other virus.”

“HIV doesn’t disappear, it just gets controlled. I’m thinking this runs on those lines.”

“Then we need to get that medication and as much as we can.”

“I need you and my brother to head out and find it. Dr. Harmon is working on potential locations. It won’t be easy,” Wells said. “At least I don’t think it will be.”

“When do you want us to go?”

Wells looked at his watch. “I’ll start getting supplies ready. First thing tomorrow. Maybe tonight.”

“Wait. The National Guard is still out there.”

“Yes. Yes they are.”

“How the hell are we supposed to get by them?”

“Just walk right by them. They don’t care anymore. Many are already leaving their posts to go to family.”

“If we get shot?” Stokes asked.

“They aren’t gonna shoot you.”

“Awfully confident on that.”

“Yeah, I am. And I’ll leave you to your food inventory. Thank you for doing this.”

“You’re welcome. And chief, can you do me a favor. Can you check on Macy and the kids? I’ve kind of taken a watch over that family.”

“Sure thing. I’ll pop by a couple times a day.”

“Appreciate it.”

Wells nodded his acknowledgement and hands in pockets walked out of Breyer’s. Stokes returned to his task, but he had other things on his mind. Including leaving Littlefield. It was what had had to do, but the prospect of it scared him a little. Because he just didn’t know what was out there.

There were no planned picnics, fireworks, parades; the only sparks that flew were when Nadia informed the president and his staff that she was leaving. There was no reason to stay underground any longer. Her work against the virus wasn’t done, but it could be handled elsewhere. In her lab, in her home state of Montana surrounded by her family.

She began to dissection of her research and underground lab before dawn.

It was time to leave. She wasn’t optimistic at all and just wanted what time she had left with her family.

Nadia prepared her notes because she was certain that there would be a briefing. The vaccine was in slow production and after testing the treatment in nineteen rural areas, they planned to release the information to the public by noon Eastern Standard Time.

There was nothing more she could do in DC.

As expected she was called into the bunker meeting room.

“I’m going topside myself,” the president told her. “Nothing more I can do down here. I have to govern from above.”

“I think that’s best,” she told him. Then informed the president she would attend the meeting as soon as she was finished.

Their voices carried as she stood outside the meeting room.

With the Bunker seal broken, the meeting room opened to the remaining Joint Chiefs of Staff who had been above and had a more realistic approach to what was happening.

At least that was what it sounded like to Nadia.

“While we have several major cities not hit by this virus, we have many that are,” a man said. “We need to stop. Regroup and replan this.’

“Agree,” another said. “Mr. President in the six days we have been facing this, we underestimated what it could do. How fast it could travel.’

Another said. “We have pulled all our service men and women. They are our front lines. Other countries are quarantining cities. Interment camps for those exposed. We have barely scratched the surface of containing this thing or coming up with a viable plan. Other than border guards on a dozen rural towns.”

“Most of them guards want to go home. Their families are sick or exposed.”

“Unfortunately,” said another. “By the time they have made it home, their families have died. We need to reiterate they are our means to stopping this.”

“We’re releasing treatment information today,” the president said. “It’s holding off the virus in eighty percent. At least that’s what we are getting from the towns we are testing.”

Nadia took that as her entrance sign.

“And here,” the president pointed. “Is the woman that discovered the treatment?”

“Actually, I’m not,” Nadia said. “The honors go to the Flight Attendant who discovered it. She unfortunately was killed. It looks like it was injuries sustained when dealing with the delusional.” Nadia took a seat in the room of eight men.

“Speaking of which,” one man said. “What are we supposed to do with those who are violent, delusional? We have reports of them being abandoned, left in the streets to run amuck. They are contagious and dying. We’re teetering between civil liberties and what’s best for humanity.”

“Euthanize,” Another said, “That’s the humane thing. They’re going to succumb to this anyhow. Euthanize them.”

Vocal agreements and disagreements erupted from around the table.

The president held up his hand. “They live twenty four hours. We know this. That’s it. But we have a treatment.”

Nadia interjected. “It works but … the downfall is until we get a cure, they must remain on the treatment. Will we have enough medication to help all those who get sick? Should our focus be on treating those inflicted? Should that take priority over a cure? Because our numbers are through the roof and we haven’t received today’s yet. Let’s not forget we haven’t a clue how many just died in their homes. They don’t have time to make it to a hospital so there is no way to truly get a good count.”

“Reports from people who are seeing this sound higher than our official reports are stating,” a general said. “First report, on the twenty-ninth was that twenty thousand in the U.S. were ill. Twenty four hours later, that number tripled. On the first of July we had a report it was one million. Yesterday an additional nine million, today if our estimates hold true, in less than a week, ten percent of the population will be infected or dead of this thing.”

“That number is not including those killed in riots,” someone said. “Violence is insane. People are panicking. Now granted news of the treatment will help.”

The previous general added. “News of a cure would be better. Forget inoculating. I don’t want to think of the chaos when that gets released. Ten percent may not seem like a lot but it is. Ten percent of all Americans are dead.”

Nadia nodded. “And at the rate we are going, sadly, we won’t last much longer. Thirty million total today. Do we know how many those thirty million have infected? My virus model predicts ninety-five percent infection and or death by August tenth. That’s not much time. Our best course of action right now is to try our best to contain it. Shut down the cities with high infection rates, like Vegas. Seal them off. No in or out. Let it burn itself out in the cities. And it will. As inhumane as it sounds we must focus our attention on what can be saved instead of trying to save all.”

The president asked. “Then we only supply aid in the treatment to those with low infection rates, small towns?”

“Yes,” Nadia replied. “But keep in mind we have to emphasize taking responsibility to those in treatment. They are highly contagious. This is airborne. It doesn’t take much. They can spread it.”

A general tossed up his hands in defeat. “So a treatment keeps people from dying. It doesn’t stop this thing.”

“Unfortunately,” Nadia said. “Other than a cure. The only way to stop this thing is to cut it off at the source, and that is, everyone, in treatment or not, that is infected. They are the source. Until the carriers stop, the virus will continue.”

Stokes reflected back on the morning, and how he was surprised that Macy smiled when she opened the door and the pre-dawn hours.

“I never took you as a morning person.” Stokes said.

“I’m not. I just haven’t been to bed. Come on in.” Macy open the door wider. “I’m surprised to see you. You clean up well.”

Stokes rubbed his hand over smooth chin. The beard was gone. “The chief said that I ought to clean up some if I want to flash my agent badge and be taken seriously.”

“The chief has a point.”

“So you haven’t been to bed?”

“No, the medication kind of makes me jumpy. Dr. Harmon said that was normal.”

“It is.”

“So, tell me, what brings you here this early? And why the cleanup and flashing the badge.”

“The chief gave me an assignment. He wants me and Albert to go out and get… More medication.”

“Are we out?”

“We could be. We just need to make sure.”

“How are you going to get out?”

“We thought the National Guard would be gone by now. They aren’t. So we’re taking some bikes and following the creek. The chief, well he shared the information with Russell about the treatment in exchange for getting us a vehicle and gassing us up. Of course, we got to get some medicine for them too. More than likely, we are going to have to hit Vegas. We know there’s stuff there. “

“You should be able to stockpile if you hit Vegas. Plus, the town of Russell, they don’t have many people there.” Macy said. “Did they get hit?”

“Yep. There are about fifty percent down.”

“Wow.” Macy said. “Good luck.”

“Thank you. Hence, why stopped by. I kind of stop by here every day. You know, to check on you. And I wanted to let you know what was going on. So when you didn’t see me. You knew. In case you got worried. Not that you would.”

“I would.” Macy tip toed and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for thinking of us.”

“Always. And I’ll get that medication. I really will.”

“I know you will,” Macy said. “Stokes, do you think they’ll ever be a cure?”

“Yeah, I do. Eventually. They were close. Really close. I got to watch a lot of it when I was undercover down at the biomedical facility in Texas. That you guys ever on it, they were brilliant. Fortunately, they were in that crash.”

“How long did you work there?”

“Long enough.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Those two guys, the ones in the accident, you knew them. They were friends. Right?” Macy asked.

“Friends. I guess the one I was friends with. Me and Dr. Kimble. Well we had a love and hate relationship. I loved to drive him nuts. He hated when I did it.” Stokes took a moment and chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you could say we were friends.”

Friends. That was the thought that Stokes had as he stood before Sunrise Hospital. That was the place he knew they had taken Dr. Kimble when they airlifted him out.

His conversation with Macy stayed on his mind so heavily, that he made Las Vegas the first stop they had after visiting the small town of Russell.

He had not heard anything in regards to Charles Kimble since right after the accident. He knew he went into a coma, but hasn’t heard since if the good doctor had lived or died. If he were alive, Stokes believed that Kimble was the answer, the hope to beating the virus. If anyone to do it he could.

If he was alive he was in the hospital. But it had seen better days.

The entire area was deserted and Stokes didn’t see a single person. The chain restaurant on the corner was closed and the windows busted out. A rushed fence had been erected in front of the hospital, a few military tents were there, but there weren’t any soldiers.

Just numerous quarantine signs and an ‘Enter at your own risk’.

Stokes thought,
It looks vacant and empty
, and even wondered if he should venture inside.

“Looks like you made the right choice coming here,” Albert said. “Although I argued, I admit when I’m wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Stokes asked.

Albert held up his phone. “They are releasing the information about the treatment in about two hours. If we hit the small towns first we stood a chance of taking their only supply.”

“Ah, you’re talking to your Flumance.”

“My what?”

“Text message romance during the flu.”

Albert laughed. “That’s funny. I wonder what she looks like. If she’s young or old.”

“Younger than you,” Stokes said. “Not much though.”

“You know Nadia Lenza.”

“Oh, sure. Dark hair, a few bits of grey. Not bad looking, holds her age well.”

“Heavy, thin?’

“What does it matter?”

“It’s nice to have a visual when I message her,” Albert said.

“She’s average.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you tell her we’re out looking for medication?”

“No,” Albert said. “I’m keeping that to myself. She sent the message unprompted. She says she’s leaving Washington.”

“Are they giving up?

“I asked the same question. She said she can work from her own lab. Why are we staring at this place?”

“You think anyone is in there?”

Albert pointed. “Considering the warning sign, I’d say yes.”

“He’s in there.”

“Who?”

“Charles Kimble. He’s in there. I think. Last I heard he was in a coma after the accident. He knows this virus better than anyone.”

“I would think if he was better, we’d hear about him working on it.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know how bad it got?”

Albert looked left to right. “He needs only to look out the window.”

Stokes knew Albert was right. In fact, Las Vegas showed signs of being the first major city to report and experience the virus. All around were remnants of chaos. People dying on the street, bodies not moved, merely covered. The first wave, when it hit, surely would have caused that. The second wave didn’t breed instant death, and health workers probably scurried to help.

What happened on Day three or even four? Did people try to make it to the hospital or did they realize it was just useless.

It was still early in the morning in the city that never slept. Although Stokes saw no signs that business were open as usual. They had left Littlefield before the sun was up completely, took the back creek way out, were actually spotted by the National Guard, never stopped and they made it to Russell NV within an hour.

Russell had suffered. As much as Littlefield. The only difference was, they didn’t get the ground zero patients that just cough, dropped and died. They got the ones that were sick for only twenty-four hours.

Where Littlefield, like Vegas, was on Day six, Russell was on day four. They were happy to hear of the treatment.

And the search for more medication for the treatment, motivated Stokes and Albert to venture into the hospital.

The air in Vegas was hot and stagnant, it didn’t move, and that was a good thing. No sooner had they passed the unguarded barricade, they saw the mounds of bodies. Stacked up outside the hospital emergency entrance like garbage bags with a city sanitation department on strike. A lot of bodies weren’t even bagged, they were covered with a tarp. If a good breeze blew by, Stokes would vomit. He already felt his stomach cramping and twisting in nausea brought on by the wretched smell.

The door to the Emergency Department was open and Stokes, hand covering his mouth and nose, walked inside.

He slid his hand down but it wasn’t any better.

The smell and the sight.

“Jesus,” Albert gasped. “Is the whole town dead?”

“I don’t know.”

It was apparent the hospital had been flooded. The waiting room was crammed with people. Most had died sitting in the chairs, on the ground, overlapping each other. Someone has made an attempt to move the bodies in the far corner .

“Do you have the list?” Albert asked.

“Yeah.”

“We need to find the pharmacy or drug storage. Try to locate what we need.”

“That’s a good idea. Obviously, it’s not out here.” Stokes pointed to the doors that he assumed led to the main core of the emergency department. “Let’s head back there.”

The lights were still on, and a temperature in the hospital let Stokes know the air conditioner was still running on power from Hoover Dam. The hospital would only go down if there was an accident or someone shut it down.

He pushed on the double doors and stepped through. He believed he was in a dead hospital until he turned to his left and nearly barreled over a woman.

She screamed, the items in her hands flew up in the air, and she grabbed her chest. She was a woman in her late twenties, hair disheveled, and wearing scrubs.

“Holy hell you scared me,” she spoke, catching her breath. The just as quick as she played the frightened Florence Nightingale, she switched to Clint Eastwood, reaching behind her back and pulling forth a revolver. She aimed it point blank in Stokes’ face.

She didn’t tremble and she was confident. That worried Stokes.

“What the hell do you want?” she asked with deepened, serious voice.

“Easy. Easy.” Stokes raised his hands. “We aren’t here to rob you.”

Albert whispered. “We kind of are.”

“Shut up,” Stokes blasted then looked at the nurse. “I’m a federal agent. If you let me reach into my back pocket I’ll show you my badge.”

“Which pocket?” she asked.

“My right.”

She planted the revolver firmly to his belly as she stepped close and reached around him and into his back pocket. She did so with ease.

“Shit. Are you a nurse or a cop?” Stokes asked.

Gun still on Stokes, she blindly flipped open the wallet, glanced down and replaced the hammer on the revolver. She handed Stokes his wallet.

“Thanks.” Stokes put it in his back pocket,

She nodded at Albert. “You a federal agent, too?”

“No. Not me. I’m a pastor.”

“What’s a federal agent and pastor doing here?”

“We’re hunkered in a small town about a hundred miles from here,” Stokes said. “We need medication.”

She chuckled sarcastically. “For the virus? There is no medication that works. You are either one of the few lucky ones immune or you get it and die. No in between. No saving.”

“No. No saving. But buying time until there is a cure,” Stokes said.

Albert asked. “What is your name?’

“Sue.”

“Sue, it works. We have about two hundred people in town right now using the treatment to keep alive. Some have had the virus for three days now. It works. But we need the medication to keep them alive. We’re gonna run out.”

“You’re serious.” She stated.

“What?” Stokes asked. “You believe him and not me?”

“He’s a man of God.” Sue finally put the revolver behind her pants. “If I can help, I will, but you have to let me know what the treatment is, so I can help people, too.”

“Absolutely,” Albert said. “And you’ll know when we tell you that it kind of makes sense. Are you the only one here?”

“No. About fifteen of us remain. We remain because we either lost everyone or have no one here in Vegas.”

“Are sick still coming in?” Albert asked.

“Not for a couple days. It’s thinning out in the city.”

“Why did you stay?” Stokes questioned.

“The virus isn’t the only reason people were in this hospital. We have sick here,” she said. “They need help, too. A lot of our patients caught the virus, but a few didn’t. And we stay... just in case. Now … what can I get you?”

Stokes handed her the list.

After reading it, her eyes lifted. “This is all medication for COPD and Asthma.”

“Yep.” Stokes nodded.

“It kinda makes perfect sense.”

“See?” Albert said. “What’d I tell you?”

“This way.” She turned and headed down the hall.

“Sue.” Stokes jotted to catch her. “Hey, listen, after we get what we came here for, there’s something else I need from you.”

She stared up to him questioning.

<><><><>

A single heart monitor beeped steady and slow, as Stokes stood outside the observation window of Room 3L in the ICU.

“Miracle man,” Sue said. “That’s what we call him. He’s a big reason why a couple of us stayed. He came in before it all started and despite the fact space was limited and sick were in and out of his room, he never got ill. We took him off of life support three days ago and he’s getting stronger.”

“Still in a coma though. For how long?”

Sue shrugged. “I don’t know. Hard to say. He suffered a head injury. Bruised ribs, a broken arm. He was fortunate. We heard the accident was bad.”