Zombie Battle (Books 1-3): Trinity (2 page)

“Eh,” Saul shrugged. “God willing, I’ll be happy to see him go to school.”

Irma gasped out. “Saul. You’re cranky. You haven’t slept.”

“I have to work on this.”

“Can I get you something? Coffee, tea?”

“No.” Finally, Saul turned his head and looked at her.

Irma gasped again. “Sauly.” Immediately, she grabbed a chair, sliding it to the desk. His eyes were dark; he looked more worried than she had ever seen. She sat down. “Sauly, what’s going on?”

Even though she had never seen him with that particular fearful expression, she hated that look on his face. She dreaded that look on his face. Saul was the director at the Centers for Disease Control, and since he started working there, she had waited for that look.

There it was.

“It’s the end of the world isn’t it?” she asked. “The big one.”

“No. No-no.” Saul grasped her hand. “It’s just that…” he shook his head “It’s confidential.”

“You need to get this off your chest. You need to talk to someone. I see it on your face. I’m here.”

“It’s classified.”

“I won’t say a word.” She hit her hand against her chest then rose. “I swear. Have I ever?”

“No, you haven’t.” He smiled gently.

“What’s going on?”

“This one is sealed. I’m supposed to keep it sealed. Send only my best and highest level clearance people.”

“Who is telling you to keep it sealed?” she asked.

“Who do you think? The bosses, governments.”

“Governments as in plural?” She closed her eyes. “And you’re saying this isn’t the big one?”

“It’s not the big one. Not from the info I’m getting. If it was, it has begun, like the last one, in a very remote area.”

“Where?”

“Peru.”

Irma chuckled. “Peru is not remote. How can you say Peru is remote?”

“The village is. It’s 30 miles from the next village and most of the villagers don’t have cars or phones. It’s remote. Trust me it’s remote.”

“What is going on there? A virus?”

“I don’t know. It baffles me. Something landed.” Saul paused in a correction mode. “They
say
something landed and caused these people to get sick.”

“Landed? What could have landed?”

“Meteor, satellite. I think, with this clearance, it’s a chemical weapon, I’m guessing.”

“In Peru?” she asked. “Who would hit a small village in Peru with a chemical weapon? Do they even have any enemies?”

Saul smiled with obvious enjoyment over her words; he laid his hand on her face. “I think it was an accident. You know the Soviets have missiles docked in space forever. One lets loose …” He shrugged his shoulders with drawn words. “You have an accident.”

“That would make sense for the secrecy.”

“Exactly.”

“Are they dead?”

“Sick. We are going to see what they have.”

“Oh, Saul, you said we. You don’t mean ‘you’ do you?”

“No.” He waved out his hand. “I’m sending Katherine to meet Hans Riesman there.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Neither does she, she has valid reasons. You. You don’t like him because he German.”

“Nonsense.” Irma paused and breathed out. “So I shouldn’t worry?”

“No. Not at all. You can worry about Jerry and his teething. Worry about what to make for dinner. Worry that your husband will be too tired to make love to his wife.” He chuckled and grabbed her hand. “But worry about an illness and the end of the world?” He leaned to her and kissed her on the cheek. “Never.”

<><><><>

Katherine Welsh tried to settle herself into a comfort zone; it was going to be a long flight. The wheezing engines aided to her annoyance, she just wanted to take off. Usually when the CDC sent her somewhere in an emergency, they sent her with a ton of data to review. It wasn’t the case with the Peruvian incident. A few sheets. Hans, who would be there hours before her, promised to start right away on sampling. Even though the WHO (World Health Organization) was already there and on it.

Where were the photos, the details? Nothing but basics was in the folder.

Hans commented on the phone that the ‘top secrecy’ of it all was probably the reason for the lack of information.

“We’ll be taking off shortly,” the stewardess said. “Can I get you anything?”

“Not right now,” replied Katherine. “After we take off, coffee would be nice.”

Politely, the stewardess smiled and went back to her business. Which wasn’t much. The full size private jet had Katherine and a skeleton crew.

She was hungry, her stomach grumbled, and the scent of the pastrami sandwich in her brief case called for her.

Katherine didn’t make or pack the sandwich; it was given to her by Irma Klein. Although Katherine was certain, Saul was gonna miss that sandwich come lunch time.

Irma.

Katherine had seen a few CDC directors come and go in her time, but none she liked or respected as much as Saul. Perhaps because she knew him and worked with the brilliant doctor as an understudy in Vermont.

At times though, she wondered if it was Saul as a director she liked or Irma’s presence.

The fifty year old woman was a mother to all, or at least acted it. Anyone younger than Saul who worked with him she took a protective attitude. Even though Katherine was only twelve years her junior, Irma mothered her as well.

Katherine admittedly was nervous about the trip, armed with little information, she was relieved to see Saul and happy to see Irma as she prepared to board the plane.

The second car at the Klein household was in the repair shop and Irma drove Saul.

Saul had very little prep talk to deliver.

“Did you eat, you look pale?” Irma asked Katherine.

Saul shook his head.

“I didn’t eat.” Katherine replied.

“Uh, Honey, you should eat. Is there time to grab a bite?”

Saul held up his hand. “Irma, there’s no time.”

“It’s a long flight. Saul, give her your lunch.”

“What?” Saul acted shocked.

“Give her your lunch. I’ll bring you another.”

Katherine interjected, “Really, I can eat on the plane.”

“She can eat on the plane.” Saul repeated.

“She can’t rely on plane food. They give skimpy portions and who knows how long the food sets. The sandwich is fresh, give her your lunch.” Irma took Saul’s briefcase.

Saul argued with her, Irma ignored him and handed Katherine the brown sack. “There’s a nice pastrami sandwich in there, a kosher pickle and …” she lowered her voice to a whisper as it the edible contents were a secret. “Pickled green tomatoes. Enough to tide you over. Plus it will make you smell enough to keep the Peru men away; I heard they attack blonde women.”

“Irma!” Saul scolded.

She waved her hand at him in a hush manner. “Go,” She said to Katherine. “Be safe. Come back and don’t catch anything.”

Was it embarrassed or annoyance at his wife’s behavior? Katherine couldn’t figure it out but she accepted the lunch with gratefulness.

What an ‘up’ to a downer send off. Katherine knew this was serious and seeing Irma helped. One never knew what Irma would say or do. Once at a get together, Irma asked Katherine that should she die would Katherine take care of Saul and the children. Added bonus, Saul was hung like a race horse.

Katherine responded that she wasn’t sure her husband would like that, but would keep the race horse thing in mind.

In her first class seat, airplane leveling from take off, Katherine laughed.

She didn’t even realize she laughed out loud until Bret Barret said something.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Oh," Katherine briefly closed her eyes in embarrassment. “Just thinking back about something Irma said.”

Bret laughed. “I can only imagine. Irma is like a dose of good when you need it.”

Katherine nodded her agreement. Bret was right. Irma was like Alka Seltzer, a bubbly medicine that kicks in and makes you feel good. She only wished they marketed medicinal versions of Irma. A miracle cure. Something in side of Katherine told her, the situation in Peru, would need just that.

CHAPTER THREE

May 3
^rd

Carancus, Puno, Peru

It was hard for Carlos to distinguish who was asking him questions. Between his illness and the biohazard suits the doctors and military wore, he never knew if he were speaking to the same person.

It didn’t matter. Carlos’ story remained the same.

Why was it so hard for them to believe a rock fell from the sky? Why were there so many government officials? He could see if it were a satellite or missile, but Carlos saw it with his own eyes. It was a rock. Now, he was told there was no rock, there was nothing but water.

Whatever it was embedded itself into the earth.

And if that rock caused his sickness, how many more others would be affected.

At that instant, Carlos thought about his son and worried.

He took comfort in the fact that his son was nowhere near the rock. In addition, Ben’s wife, who also was far away, was well. Carlos knew that, she had been taken into quarantine as well.

The questions were the same. What did you see? What time was this? Did you smell anything?

Carlos answered then Carlos ended it all with ‘excuse me while I vomit’.

Another man from his village said he had eavesdropped and heard the doctors say there were 150 people affected. Anyone who went near the site turned ill.

‘Stay away from the site’, Carlos beckoned in his mind to his son. ‘Just stay away.’

Carlos had thrown up so much in the last ten hours, there was nothing left but green bile. His stomach churned and twisted with pain. His head wretched and a fever raged.

He was told by the medical people it would pass. That he probably inhaled fumes from whatever it was.

If it was going to pass, surely Carlos would have been feeling better. Instead, like a raging infection, he just grew worse.

<><><><>

Juan was hungry, but it wasn’t time to eat. Not yet. He had gone back home to his village, to his home to get food and water for the trip. He knew it would take him days. But he would prevail.

His stomach felt funny, but he attributed that to hunger. At only six, he knew what it took to survive. Before they moved to the village, when his mother was alive, he and his father were lost in the forest for several days. His father taught him much. Including being careful.

Juan was.

He knew he had better take the tree lined path, stay off the main roads, and move without being seen on the way to the next town.

That was evident. The police, military, and men in space suits were everywhere, even more so near the big hole when he walked by. He was able to sneak unseen and get a look at the hole that drew attention, but it only held water.

When a man shouted out for him to ‘stop, don’t move’, Juan ran. He would keep on running, too, until he made it to the next town.

CHAPTER FOUR

May 5
^th

Carancus, Puno, Peru

If it smelled like normal vomit, it probably wouldn’t have bothered Hans Riesman, however the regurgitation that erupted from the 603 patients was foul smelling, like death.

Hans was grateful the journey into the tents of the aid town were infrequent.

He finished his report to Saul, the third and he hoped final one, typing it on the computer and preparing it to send. Hans who was a brilliant virologist was stumped as much as anyone.

None of the infected showed signs of getting better, in fact, they deteriorated. A wellness camp, courtesy of the Peru Health ministry, WHO, and CDC, was erected twenty-three miles from the nearest town in a remote field. They had divided up the ill. Those initially infected, then day two infections. There were no day three infections because the town had been cleared out, and those who remained wore respirators.

That told Hans a lot. Whatever it was wasn’t in the air nor was it airborne. The initial victims were tended to by local doctors twenty miles away and those doctors didn’t wear protective clothing, nor did they show signs of the illness.

Then the other test confirmed. It showed a viral bacteria in the blood stream that had taken over. Hans was hopeful, with it being a bacteria, that meant antibiotics, but this was resistant. Why wouldn’t it be? It came from somewhere unknown.

That same bacterium was found in the soil, on the rooftops, grass, invisible to the naked eye but it was there. It was more predominant around the landing site. Traces of the bacterium dissipated the further from town they went. After a ten mile radius, no traces were found.

Hans and everyone else deducted, whatever landed in that hole released something that worked like a man made biological weapon. It affected everyone in an area, and diminished in time.

The scariest part of it all was somehow it was contagious. No contact victims had contracted it, yet. However, tests showed when healthy cells were introduced to the bacterium; the bacterium took over within four to eight hours. Blood to blood. Fluid to fluid. At least with that route of transmission and infection it was easier to keep under control.

Even though they no longer wore respirators, teams wore protective gear and exercised extreme caution when cleaning up.

Hans was confident, and he expressed so in his report to Saul. Contained.

No new cases, they were isolated, every person exposed was quarantined, and the impact site secure.

He ended his report stating, ‘It is only a matter of time to finalize answers. The infected will either get well or succumb, and for that, we just have to wait.

CHAPTER FIVE

Atlanta, GA

The dining room table was all set for dinner when Saul came home, which was unusual. Irma usually set the kitchen table, seeing that it was just those two. But the addition of two place settings told him they were having company. Saul didn’t want to ask about it, he just wanted to jump in the shower.