My Dead World (2 page)

Bobby was a schizophrenic source of information that first day. One moment he was optimistic, the next the most pessimistic person on the face of the earth. The day after our midnight phone call he projected that he was relieved, that possibly what had happened was a fluke. The next day he was unsure.

He wasn’t specific about what the virus did, it was as he put it, a need to know situation and he would tell me when I needed to know. Which to me, seemed rather ridiculous.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” he said. “I still don’t believe it.”

“Try me.”

“I’d rather not.”

He did tell me that despite what books and movies projected, it more than likely was not going to be how it happened. It wasn’t an overnight thing, where one day the world was fine, and the next it was besieged by plague.

Even with air travel it would take time to cross the globe. That was a good thing.

The news of an outbreak wouldn’t become public for a while, and when it did, not only would it be downplayed, it would be a fraction of the truth. I found it hard to believe that he would give it to us straight, since he was telling me very little now. But the truth was, Bobby knew very little.

The outbreak started with ten men and it seemed to end with those ten men. There was an indication that it could have been some sort of weaponized virus. The migrant workers were chosen from the street and taken by truck to do work in a warehouse elsewhere. Somehow, speculation was made, they stumbled across the virus there.

Authorities were checking it out.

The worst nightmare virus didn’t seem to pan out.

Then three days after the initial phone call, my brother was getting on a plane. He had been a field worker for years then settled into an office in Atlanta, but they moved him out. He sent a text to me simply stating he was going to ground zero.

That scared the hell out of me that he was referring to it as ground zero.

As I waded in the communication silence with my brother, I had to thwart off constant questions from my father. It was easy to avoid answering questions, bending the truth over the phone and via text, but face to face, my father read me like a book.

Seeing that he lived right down the street, approaching me face to face was easy.

“Have you heard from your brother? He’s not posted on social media lately.”

“He’s busy with work,” I said.

“So you have talked to him?”

“In a way,” I said. “He’s out of town.”

“Out of town? Meaning at a site?” My dad questioned. “He’s not field anymore. If he’s at a site, something is up.”

I cringed.

“What do you know, Niles?”

“Nothing.”

“Did he tell you not to tell me?”

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean, sort of? Either you can tell me, or you can’t.”

“He said not to tell you yet.”

“Probably because he doesn’t have enough information to answer my questions,” he said. “Is it a virus?”

“A very small outbreak. But it’s mysterious. He honestly hasn’t told me much except that he’s worried. Please don’t tell him I told you.”

My father held up his hand. “Oh, I won’t. Is he worried?”

“Yes, he seems to be.”

“Okay. Thanks.” My father kissed me on the cheek and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Anthony’s.”

“Anthony’s gun shop?” I asked. “Why?”

“To stock up on ammo. If your brother is worried, it’s bad. If it’s bad, I want to get my ammo before everyone else makes a run for it.”

“Dad, you can’t shoot a virus,” I told him.

“No, but you sure as shit can shoot the people that want to steal your stuff and that’s what’s gonna happen, Niles, if this world shuts down with a virus.”

My father left. Had he stayed a few more minutes he would have been there when Bobby called.

It was a bad connection and I feared not hearing everything he had to say.

“I can’t talk long. Are you by a computer?” he asked.

“Yeah. My laptop,” I said. “What do you need?”

“Go to CNN,” he told me.

“Give me a second,” I opened up the browser and typed in the web site.

“You there?”

“Yeah, what am I looking for?”

“Do you see a story about a fire in India?”

I scanned the page, then to the right, I saw a link to a story. “There’s one,” I said. “Fire kills one hundred and twelve in Bihar slum?”

“That’s the one.”

I clicked on it. “Oh my God. They say the fire just swept through instantly. Why am I looking at this?’

“That’s where I am.”

“Wait. You travelled all the way there and the slum had burned down?”

“No. Ninety percent of the slum was infected. It didn’t just burn down … we burned it down,” Bobby said. “And I don’t think we stopped it.”

The news regarding the mysterious outbreak was still buried and hidden from the public behind stories of slum fires and riots. Truth was, seventeen of Patna’s ninety-nine slums had faced the infection. The virus was sweeping through the indigent communities and no one cared. The presence of the CDC was kept under wraps, and Bobby told me he was working day and night. Not only as a director, trying to get people to work on fighting it, but as a doctor.

It was a hopeless battle.

“There is no surviving this bug,” Bobby said. “You get it, you’re done. The final stage is the worst and we have been exercising euthanasia before people get there.”

I knew my brother and knew he was facing something that caused him not only distress, but was breaking his heart.

Our conversations were brief and sporadic. The good news to me was, it had been two weeks and the outbreak was still contained to that one area in the country of India. But I knew each day that passed, each person that had the virus, was another chance it could break the boundaries.

It was the two week mark exactly when the doorbell rang and the, UPS guy left a shoebox size package at my doorstep. My ‘fresh out of the dryer’ hot shirt was still warm against my body when I stepped outside. That’s when I saw the police car in front of my father’s house. I took the box inside and walked down the street to his house.

Officer Winslow was on the porch talking to my father, while Lisa stood in the doorway, drinking her pint of Jack Daniels via a straw.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Nilie, can you tell him I’m not planning a mass murder,” my father said,

It was such a ridiculous notion that I laughed. “What?”

“Ma’am, this is not a laughing manner,” Officer Winslow said. “Your father has been purchasing large sums of ammunition and they were flagged as suspicious.”

My father huffed. “So it’s against the law to buy bullets.”

“Sometimes, yes,” the officer responded. “We’re just following up. Is there a reason Mr. Hanlan that you need that much ammunition.”

“Yes,” My father answered. “And it isn’t to kill people.”

“We aren’t saying that. We’re just …”

“Officer, I can explain,” I said. “See, we own property up in Butler County. My father is supposed to teach me, my husband, his brother and some friends how to shoot. We want to be ready for hunting season and the ammo is for target practice. We’re going up for a long weekend.”

“He bought four thousand rounds.” The officer said.

“And that flagged him?” I scoffed, fluttering my lips. “Think about this. Eight people learning, four day weekend? That’s maybe a hundred rounds a day. You know how fast you can go through a hundred rounds at a range.”

“I don’t think I have ever gone through a hundred rounds on the range. It’s not just the amount, it’s how fast he bought them. But ... I’ll mark it down that we talked. Just … if you can hold off buying Mr. Hanlan, Homeland would stop getting flags.”

“Yep.” My father nodded. “Thank you.”

The officer left, although I don’t think he bought our story.

“Jesus, Dad, four thousand rounds?”

“It’s forty boxes, five a day. When you think about it that way, it isn’t that much. You’ll thank me later. So for now, shut up.” And then my father just stormed into his house.

I stood for a second in disbelief over the fact that my father had just told me to shut up. I had to get home, get ready for work and write the girls a note.

When I walked into the house, I remembered the box. I didn’t recall ordering anything, but clearly on the box was a message in black marker.

‘Call me before you open this, B.’

I didn’t know if he would answer, after all it was the middle of the night where he was, but Bobby did pick up.

“I got the box,” I told him. “Can I open it?”

“Not yet.”

“What is it?”

“Listen to what I am going to tell you. There is a point of no return with every pandemic. Meaning it reaches a point when we can’t stop it. There is also a point where things start to go crazy, cities shut down, borders close and people are quarantined.”

“Has that happened before?” I asked.

“Not in the United States. Not since the Spanish Flu epidemic.”

“Is it going to happen here?”

“Hopefully not there,” he said. “But I can’t guarantee it won’t.”

“I mentioned to Daddy that you were in the field. He figured things out.”

“Yeah, I know, he posted a cryptic message on my Pal Book Wall.”

“He bought four thousand rounds of ammunition.”

Bobby laughed. “That is why I didn’t want him to know. He goes bonkers. Open the box, Nilie.”

I grabbed a kitchen knife and opened the packaging. After folding back the flaps I discovered the two items in the box. One was a phone and the other a credit card. “Why do I need a phone?”

“Keep it charged at all times. Don’t use it yet. It’s a Satellite phone. If things shut down it will be our only means of communications. The credit card is for you to use for supplies.”

“Supplies?”

“Long term. Think that way. We are as of now quarantining three people in Germany, and two in Paris. It’s time to start planning for worst case scenarios.”

“Seriously? Bobby, come on, it sounds like maybe you’re over reacting. Are we really looking at worst case scenario?”

“Right now. If this thing crossed borders,” Bobby said. “We’re already there.”

<><><><>

Without details of what exactly the virus did, I was left to my own imagination and the visualization provided by Hollywood. I just figured it was a virus, so we were looking at flu like symptoms.

I needed to research, to learn, but I needed more than to read facts on some CDC website. Since Bobby mentioned worst case scenario, I wanted to learn what worst case scenario meant.

Paul was doing late night inventory and I planned a movie night with my girls. Notebook and pen in hand, freshly popped bowl of popcorn, I perched myself between my daughters on the couch and sought out the best pandemic outbreak movies I could stream.

Katie fell asleep before even acknowledging the victims in the movie,
The Stand
. Addy, on the other hand questioned why I was subjecting her to watching the movie.

“Think of it as educational,” I told her.

“Are they dead?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“How did they die?’

“A germ got loose.”

“Is that why that man ran away?” She questioned further.

“Yes.”

“Is his baby gonna die?”

“Probably.”

She kind of shrieked when I answered her, more so in offense because I was making her watch it. Addy lasted nearly halfway through, then she also fell asleep.

By the time Paul made it home after inventory and drinks with the gang, I was on the third episode.

“Well, this is strange,” he said. “This is not your usual Friday movie with the girls.”

“No it’s not.”

Paul sat down in the chair. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird lately, Nilie. Quiet. You don’t even want to talk to me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it with you, I do. I didn’t realize I was being like that.”

“Well you are, and if you weren’t continuously on the phone with your brother, who works at the CDC and now watching virus movies, I’d swear you were having an affair with Roy.”

“Roy, the potato cake boy? That’s funny.”

“Is something going on?”

I stared down at my hands.

“Nila. Come on. Talk to me. I know you want to.”

“I do,” I answered. “I was going to tell you tomorrow. Bobby is concerned, he wants us to start preparing.”

“Preparing?” Paul stood up. “Like for …”

“Worst case scenario. He wants us to start buying supplies and stocking the cabin. That’s our destination. That’s our plan.”

Paul whistled. “Head to the cabin? When will we go there?”

“I don’t know. He said he’ll let us know. He doesn’t want us to go too soon, because one day early is one day of supplies we’ll need later.”

Paul nodded, he was surprisingly calm and level headed. No disbelief. Not that I expected that from him. “Your brother always said you can’t run away from an outbreak. So obviously this is something that we can avoid. He wants us to wait it out?”

“He says very little, except for us to get ready. But I’m thinking that’s what he wants. He’ll tell us more, but he hasn’t yet.”

“Then … we have no choice.” Paul leaned down and kissed me. “We get ready. When it’s time to go, we go.”

“Do you think it will come to that?” I asked.

“I think if Bobby is telling us to be ready and concerned, then without a doubt,” he said, “We need to listen.”