Pestilence: A Medical Thriller (13 page)

34

Samantha sat in the passenger seat of the military jeep parked in front of Los Angeles County General Hospital. The building was white with neon-green trim. The parking lot was nearly empty. They got out of the jeep, and the driver informed them she would wait there.

Clyde Olsen had told them where to find Jane. He was reluctant
to hand over the information once he’d heard that she’d been put into personal quarantine. “Sam, I don’t think this is going to end well for her,” he’d said.

But Samantha
had insisted that she needed to see her sister.

Jane Bower Gates was a classically trained violinist
who played for the Seattle Symphony Orchestra. While Sam had always been assertive and daring, Jane was softer and more sensitive. She lived in her own world, and music had always been her escape. After initially wanting to go into a career in mathematics, Jane had changed majors as an undergraduate at the last moment in her senior year and completed three years’ worth of music courses in three semesters.

There had always been a little bit of a rivalry between them when they were younger, each trying to prove to their parents
she was smarter than the other. At the time, the competition was annoying and stressful, but as Samantha grew older, she understood that most families emphasized looks, not intellect. And she was grateful that it hadn’t been that way in their home.

On the day Jane got married,
she told Samantha that she had been her role model and that she’d switched from mathematics to music because she saw how passionately Sam pursued medicine. Samantha had forgotten that she’d told her sister to do what she loved and that if she loved doing something, she would eventually make money at it, regardless of the short-term consequences. Jane told her that that had changed her life.

“You sure you want to see this?” Duncan
asked.

Samantha
started to say something, but no words came. Her eyes welled up with tears against her will, and she put her hand to her mouth as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Duncan put his arms around her, and they stood silently in the night for a moment before going inside.

The hospital was like any other: harsh lighting, the smell of antiseptic and
stale air conditioning, and linoleum floors that needed mopping. The reception desk was staffed by two young women, and Samantha went to them and asked for the quarantine floor.

“Um, you can’t
go up there,” one of the receptionists said.

Duncan pulled out a military badge. “We’re fine
.”

The girl was young and
probably had never been in a situation like this before. She stared pleadingly at the other girl, who shrugged.

“Um, well, okay. I guess.”

They took the elevator to the psychiatric wing and got off on the third floor. They followed the signs on the walls to where two soldiers stood by the door. These weren’t national guardsmen, though. These guys wore Rangers’ uniforms, and Sam wondered why they would be watching the quarantined patients.

Duncan showed them his badge.

“Sorry, sir,” one said. “We can’t let anyone through.”

“Her sister is in there. She wants to see her
, and was given permission. And that comes directly from General Olsen. Call him if you have an issue, but I don’t think he’s going to like getting woken up in the middle of the night for something he’s already given permission for.”

The
Ranger had the same look as the receptionist’s, though he was much more decisive. “One moment.” The Ranger took out a cell phone and spoke quietly for a few seconds. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Sam made out the last two words. “Sorry, sir.”

“
Go in. You can’t go behind the plastic barrier. If you do, our orders are to quarantine you, as well.”

“We won’t. Thank you.”

Samantha opened the door. Jane was lying back in bed, with her eyes closed. Her hair was onyx black, and her face had perfect proportions. Samantha had always thought Jane was the prettier sister, though Jane thought the same thing of her.

A
thick plastic canopy over her bed was taped to the floor to keep anything from coming in or out. A small air pump connected to the power socket inside the canopy recycled the stale air, and a plastic tube that vented the carbon dioxide stuck out from the top.

Samantha took one
of the two chairs against the wall and brought it near the canopy. She watched her sister’s chest go up and down. Slowly, Jane’s eyes opened. They expressed surprise at first, and then she smiled. The smile was so weak, and her lips so dry and cracked from dehydration, that Samantha nearly burst into tears again.

“Hey,” Jane said softly.

“I missed you, Janey. How are you feeling?”

“Like I ate a hot dog from a gas station at three in the morning.”

Samantha, though maintaining eye contact as much as possible, was evaluating her. Jane had no hemorrhaging underneath her skin, and other than the dehydration, she didn’t have the typical symptomology of Agent X.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam
asked.

“They’re saying I have to stay here until they figure out what I have. They haven’t taken my blood
, though, so I don’t know how they’re supposed to figure it out without that.”

“This
… agent that they think you might have, it’s really infectious, and most hospital staff won’t go near a patient. They probably have a policy that they won’t do blood draws on suspected cases.”

“How long will they keep me here?”

Samantha glanced at Duncan and then looked at her sister. “There’s some things going on in the city that you may not have heard about, Jane. Communications have been cut off, and they’ve begun containment centers.”

“
I was in one of the centers. Robert and his family went down to San Diego for the zoo. I was here alone. They said if I took a potential vaccine, I could go home.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean they’ve shut down the city, though?”

“
Everything’s off. No cars on the road, no one at work, nothing. They’re frightened of this pathogen getting out.”

“
Who’s
they
?”

“The military, the NSA
. Probably the FBI and CIA, too. Whoever does this sort of thing. They’ve decided we’re a disaster zone and declared martial law.”

Jane turned away
, and staring up at the ceiling, she shook her head. “I don’t believe this.”

Samantha rose. “Duncan, wait for me here.”

“Where you going?”

“I’m going to take a blood sample and have it tested. If she’s clear
, I’m getting her out of here.”

35

The car slowed down on a residential street in Van Nuys. The homes were immaculate
, and from the cars in the driveways, Katherine could tell this was an affluent neighborhood. A white house with a sports car and an SUV in the driveway came into view on the right, and Ian instructed her to stop there.

“He’s asleep,” she said. “They probably have an alarm
, too.”

“Who’s the alarm going to call?” He grinned
, took the keys out of the ignition, and put them in his pocket. “Stay here. You’re doing really well, Katherine. This will all be over soon.”

Ian got out of the car
, and she watched as he walked around the house, checking the windows. He was limping, and she realized he had hurt himself during the accident, too, but he didn’t let it bother him. He disappeared around the back. She glanced around the neighborhood. She wasn’t aware of the time, other than it was well after midnight, and the clock on the dash was blinking 12:00. The neighborhood seemed darker than any she had ever been in. Not a single light was on in any house. She opened the door and felt the warmth of the night. She debated no more than a few seconds, and then she ran down the street as fast as she could.

The sidewalk was clean
, and running wasn’t difficult, except for the fact that she was still lightheaded from the pain medication in her system. But it wasn’t enough to affect her balance.

She was halfway down the block when she turned down a side street and then another and
another. She was going to get lost and disappear in the maze of homes. One house had an open gate. Glancing around, she didn’t see a dog. Once inside, she shut the door behind her and then sat down. She hoped she could sit there until morning. If she had entered the house and sought the help of the people inside, Ian would see the lights on. She had to wait until morning and then hope she could get in touch with the police.

As she sat
, she realized she was really hungry and thirsty. In the hospital, she was in shock and couldn’t think clearly enough to ask for something, and she regretted that right then.

She thought about her mother’s apple pie. Every last Sunday of the month
, her mother made fresh apple pie with peach-apples, a type of apple mixed with a peach grown by a local farmer. They were a bit softer and sweeter than normal apples and had a tanginess she’d never tasted in anything else. Her mother made her pies with brown sugar and then scooped vanilla ice cream on top while the pie was still hot, and they would eat on the porch or in the backyard.

When her mother passed away from the brain tumor, Katherine
had tried to make the pie for her two sisters, her brother, and her father, but it always turned out either too crisp or too soggy. No one enjoyed it, but Katherine wouldn’t stop making it. She got up early once a month to go to the farmer’s market for a batch of peach-apples and then started the pie from scratch.

Brakes squealed behind her. They weren’t loud, like someone was going fas
t and then had to quickly stop, but they built up in pitch, as if someone were going slowly and had rolled by in front of the house where she was hiding.

She didn’t move or even breathe. Keeping entirely still, she felt a tickling on her leg.
Glancing down at her ankle, she saw a spider the size of a quarter resting on it.

Katherine put her hand over her mouth to make sure she didn’t scream. The spider
crawled again, and instead of going over, it went up her leg. She bit down hard on her lip and closed her eyes. Squealing, she swatted at her ankle and then opened her eyes to see the spider was gone.

The car revved its engine and then drove away.

Katherine jumped to her feet and opened the gate. She didn’t see anyone. She sprinted to the middle of the road, but couldn’t see the car anymore. As she was about to run up to the house where she’d been hiding, she stopped. What exactly could they do for her? The phones had been cut off, and no police were available. Who would come and help her?

But
at least she would be away from him. She walked up to the porch and knocked on the door. She got no answer at first, and so she rang the doorbell and then knocked again. A light went on inside the house, and then another. A middle-aged man in a black robe opened the door. Behind him, peeking out over his shoulder, was a beautiful blonde with large, fake breasts.

“Please,” Katherine said, “I’m in
tr—”

The blood spattered on her face
. She felt numb as the man’s corpse collapsed backward into his wife, who hadn’t even realized what had happened yet. Blood and gore was all over her nightgown and her chest, and as the body fell, she caught it and brought it down. When she saw the gaping hole in his head, she screamed.

“No!”

Katherine quietly took in the scene. It didn’t seem real to her, as if it were happening to someone else far away and she were only watching, like a waking dream. She turned, and Ian was in the street.

Katherine’s mind was reeling. In one moment of absolute, pure rage, she felt out of control. She ran out into the street and shouted, “You want to kill me
? Then fucking kill me!”

He lifted his weapon
, and she thought she was going to die. But she didn’t care. Right then, she was helping a man who was little more than an animal and was worried that God would judge her for it. She thought it better to die. She lifted her arms and closed her eyes, waiting for the bullet to tear into her. But it never came.

She
opened her eyes as Ian slammed the butt of the gun against her jaw, knocking her out cold.

36

Samantha put on latex gloves and a full biohazard suit. She combed the supply closet for sodium hypochlorite and found some tucked away on a shelf. She also found a syringe and vial for testing as well as some swabs and a small packet of alcohol.

She stripped down to her bra and panties and then slipped the blue suit over herself. The plastic faceplate was free of any smudges or fingerprints.
It was brand-new.

Placing
the boots on her feet, she realized they were too large. She tried cinching them with rubber bands. They were still loose, but would have to do.

She
slipped the crinkly booties over her boots and then pulled on the suit’s thick black gloves and tucked her sleeves into them. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and going out into the corridor.

Duncan was standing outside
the room. He seemed to want to say something but didn’t. Maybe because he knew she was going to do it no matter what, or maybe because he, too, thought it was the right thing.

“Where are the
Rangers?” she asked.

“I called Clyde and had them reassigned. You’re clear for a few hours until they send some others.”

Sam was silent a moment. “Thanks,” she finally said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Find a coffee for me, will ya?” She didn’t want one, but she knew it might occupy his mind long enough for her to get the blood. Entering the room, she shut the door behind her, then tore off the tape on the floor that was holding down the canopy.

Slipping underneath, she came up next to her sister and placed her hand on her shoulder. Jane
gave her a weak smile and placed her hand over the glove.

Sam swabbed her sister’s left bicep with a cotton swab and alcohol.

“Close your eyes,” she said.

“You still remember, huh?” Jane said.

Samantha thought back to a doctor’s office they had been in when she was twelve and Jane eight. The doctor needed to give her vaccinations, and Jane sprinted out of the room and ran into the parking lot. Their father had to chase her and bring her back. Holding her down, they finally got the injection in by telling her to close her eyes, and Jane passed out.

“What do you do when they have to give you an IV?” Sam asked.

“They’ve never had to. I avoid the damn things as much as possible.”

Sam withdrew a vial of the black-red blood
, and it splashed up as it filled the tube. She capped and sealed it, then ducked under the canopy and went over to a sink. She washed both the bag and the vial of blood with water and then the sodium hypochlorite. She placed the vial in the bag and threw the syringe into a biohazard trash bin.

“I’ll be right back,” Sam said.

No showers were set up for decontamination, so Sam had to use the one in the room. When she finished washing the suit, she stepped out and went to the supply closet to get dressed.

The hematology department was on a different floor
, and she carefully carried the plastic container in both hands as she went to the elevators. A custodian was on there with her, and he was humming to himself. It seemed so out of place for the moment that Sam couldn’t help but watch him. He smiled at her as he stepped off onto his floor.

Hematology was empty up front. Sam walked behind the front desk and toward the back. Sitting at a table with various vials
, tubes, and microscopes set up in front of him was a man with orange hair and a goatee. He was writing on a notepad, and Sam walked in and placed the plastic bag down on the table.

“You need to test this,” she said. “For an unknown pathogen resembling smallpox.”

The man was confused for a second, and then his eyes widened. “Holy shit, you brought that here like that?”

“Test it now
, please. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“There’s different kinds of smallpox
virion, and most are morphologically indistinguishable from the others. I can’t tell you what I’d be looking at.”

“You have to do negative staining. Do you have an electron microscope here?”

“Well, yeah, but I would need some sort of scab or skin sample from an infected patient to do it.”

“You have two people infected upstairs. I’ll get you the
skin sample. You just get everything ready.”

As she was walking out, the doctor said, “Hey, who the hell are you anyway?”

“I’m with the CDC… and I’m that patient’s sister.”