The Liger Plague (Book 1) (16 page)

“You seem to know a lot about this, mister. What’s going on here on this island? Is our country getting attacked?”

“Someone has released a weaponized virus on Cooke’s Island. I have no idea who committed this act or what their motivation was. All I know for certain is that the entire island has been quarantined and that no one is allowed to arrive or depart. And that’s all I can tell you.”

“I’m Dan, and this is my wife, Janice. What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know my name, Dan. Sorry to be so rude, but I suggest you keep on moving for your own sake.”

“Okay, I hear you,” the man said, shaking his head. “Just tell me this, mister. Is this thing going to kill us?”

“Depends. What you have now will make you very sick, but it probably won’t kill you. It’s the second part of the disease that you should be concerned about, which is why you need to get down to the water and keep cleaning your body. And do not use your cell phone. Throw it away. It could be the difference between surviving and death.”

“We come up here from Tennessee to see the ocean and maybe eat a little Maine lobster. Never tried lobster before, and it looks like we might not get the chance now.” Dan laughed halfheartedly.

“Good luck to you, folks. Head down this street, and you’ll find a dirt path leading to Chandler’s Cove. There’s a grove of trees surrounding it. You’ll be well protected down there. If I get the chance, I’ll come down later and check in on you.”

“You don’t anticipate getting sick?”

“Not when I’ve got a biomask, food and a gun.”

Tag watched the group stagger down the street and disappear from sight. The dead bodies in his front yard had served a purpose. They forced other potential intruders to think twice before trying to make a move on them. He was glad he’d left them there and would claim self-defense if those two cops returned. And the way things were going, he didn’t care about the law right now.

He made his way down to the basement and flipped the switch on the generator, killing all the lights. He ran up to the main floor and emptied the contents of the refrigerator into two Freezetec coolers. Once all the food had been stored inside the Freezetecs, he retrieved a black marker and made two signs warning people to keep away from the house, advertising that they were armed. Then he checked on Monica and Taylor. Their temperatures were still high, but they both seemed to have momentarily stabilized. What concerned him most was the growing number of red splotches beginning to darken over their bodies.

With Monica and Taylor resting comfortably, he walked over to the bay window and pushed aside the drapes. Casco Bay and the Atlantic Ocean appeared in all their majestic beauty. A Portland P.D. boat circled the island, powering over the swells. Whitecaps sprayed up and crashed up against the exposed rocks jutting out of the water. Purplish, angry clouds darkened the skies to the south. Bolts of lightning lit up the sky in jagged spears, and he feared for the poor people stranded out there and exposed to the elements. He prayed the storm might pass quickly, but from the looks of the system heading this way, it appeared that it might be a fierce one.

What else could go wrong
?

He went over and collapsed in his Mission leather chair, all his strength sapped. Too tired to think, he sat dumbfounded by the idea that he’d been accused of planting this bug. And now that the generator was down, he had no way of finding out whether this information had been leaked to the general population. If so, he was finished in his field and would never work in the industry again. He could forget about teaching at Harvard. Worse, he faced the prospect of spending the rest of his life behind bars. He felt sorry for his three children. They, too, would suffer the inexorable scars of this false accusation, and the horrific label would follow them throughout their lives.

The rain started tapping lightly against the roof. He gripped the Magnum and, for a second, thought about putting it up to his head, but he’d always been a fighter and would fight this false accusation to the bitter end if necessary. Besides, he knew the truth of his innocence. And there were a whole lot of people on this island who needed his help, especially once the worst of this virus began to take effect. By disabling the crafts on Cooke’s Island, he’d accomplished quite a task—he’d kept the crisis contained. If just one infected person had made it over to the mainland, then the entire country was in jeopardy, especially his other two children.

The rain beat increasingly harder against the roof of the house. In a matter of minutes the wind started howling, blowing through the trees with a biblical vengeance. Thunder boomed like nuclear blasts, followed by the illuminating dazzle of lightning. He prayed that all the people on Cooke’s Island would survive this violent storm, and he felt the tremendous burden of guilt that came with trying to protect his family and keep them safe.

Chapter 12

The rain and wind got worse. He looked out the window every so often and watched as it punished the island into submission. Jagged bolts of lightning electrified the ground. Trees bent sideways in the blustering wind. Tag could have sworn that he never heard thunder that loud in his life. The swells out in the bay looked to be at least ten to fifteen feet. Massive whitecaps exploded against the rocks piled up along the coast.

He worried about the thousands of people spread out along the island, trying to withstand the elements. The thought of them huddled in the wind and rain left him despairing and guilt-ridden. If only he could have somehow calmed the unruly mob and organized them into some of the vacant homes on the island, yet reality told him that he had no other choice. There was no way he could have subdued all those people. And at this time of year, there weren’t many vacant homes. It was either protect his own family or suffer the consequences like everyone else. Besides, the pox symptoms would soon be progressing at an alarming rate, and many people would be too disabled to move.

Monica groaned from the couch. Tag rushed over to see how she was feeling. He looked over at his daughter and saw her also writhing in discomfort. Their faces radiated a bright red, and he knew that both were suffering from the debilitating backaches and body pain, common symptoms before the skin started to blister. He took out the thermometer and checked his wife’s temperature. A reading of one hundred and two. He didn’t need to check Taylor to see that her temperature was similarly elevated. A deafening clap of thunder resonated overhead, shaking the house and all the glass sculptures hanging inside the room. It felt like the aftershock of a strong earthquake.

He went into the kitchen to retrieve some ice and saw a streak of light explode in the backyard. A deafening crack went up, followed by a long, protracted groan. By the time he discovered what had happened, the pine tree had begun its descent. A few frightful seconds passed before it crashed through the roof. The terrifying sound of splintering wood caused both Monica and Taylor to sit up and take notice. A section of the pine’s trunk busted through the ceiling and now rested three feet from the floor. A gaping, shredded hole opened up, and rainwater poured into the room and pooled up along the floor. As if he didn’t have anything else to worry about.

He ran out to the garage for a tarp and two garbage bins and brought them inside. The rainwater gushed onto the hardwood floor, and a large puddle formed in the middle of the room. He set out the tarp and then placed the empty trash bucket under the stream and mopped up the excess water. The walls of the house shook under the tremendous force of the wind. Tag got as many towels out of the bathroom cabinet as possible and sopped up all the moisture. After about thirty minutes he checked in on Monica and Taylor. The ice on their foreheads had melted, so he got some more and returned to them. The ice in the chest had started to melt as well, and he knew that by continuing to open the cooler he had released a lot of cold air.

Despite the bags of ice on their foreheads, their temperatures had come down very little since the last time he’d checked. Reaching into his medical kit, he took out the bottle of liquid Tylenol and codeine and gave them each another spoonful of the medicines. Then he cleaned and replenished their IV bags and set them back on their platforms so fluid could drip into their veins. Once he’d set them back up, he went over and replaced the trash barrel, emptying the full one over the deck.

He was about to go back into the garage and get a third trash barrel when he heard a knock at the door. Who in their right mind would be traveling through this storm? He grabbed his rifle off the kitchen table and ran upstairs to the bedroom. The windows rattled with each billowing gust. As he approached the glass, he could see the massive waves rippling in from the ocean. They smashed up against the tiny islands and small lighthouse standing at the mouth of the bay and continuing to flash its beam to all lost ships. He struggled to open the window and, in the process, got pushed back by a blast of wind. Sticking his head out into the pummeling rain, he looked down and, to his astonishment, saw Versa standing at his doorstep dressed in a long, yellow raincoat and rain hat, and holding her rifle in a green plastic trash bag. The hard rain pounded the driveway and nearby roofs. It sounded like a gigantic sizzling pan. The wind howled through the trees, causing them to sway back and forth.

“Versa, what are you doing here?” he shouted into the howling wind.

“Let me in, Colonel, and I’ll tell you!” she called up, holding the brim of her plastic rain cap while struggling to stay upright.

“You left here by your own choice. Why should I take you back?”

“Because you know I can help you. I’m good with firearms, Colonel, and know how to use them.”

“I can take care of everything myself, thank you.”

“Please, I have nowhere else to go.”

He sighed. “I’ll be right down.”

He slammed the window shut, his hair soaking wet, and made his way downstairs. Releasing the deadbolt, he turned the door’s central lock and opened the door. A buckshot of warm rain blew sideways and inside the house, soaking the oak floor. Versa quickly scampered inside and past the threshold. Using his shoulder, Tag struggled to close it. He secured all the locks and slipped the deadbolt back in place. Upon seeing Versa, the tough and durable islander, he leaned back against the door and stared at her as she undid the latches on her bright yellow raincoat. Puddles of water had formed at the front door and around her boots. He’d worry about that later. Secretly, he was glad she’d returned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he said, wiping a hand through his damp hair. “No, better yet, how in God’s name did you
get
here in this storm?”

“Walked like I always do, Colonel. There’s no storm out there that scares this lady, and I been through quite a few bad blows. Living on this island all these years, I seen plenty of nor’easters spinning through these parts and many a lot worse than this little shit-kicker.” She took off her rain jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. “Got any tea?”

“Why didn’t you stay home?”

“Think I wanted to leave there? That crazy mob was everywhere, and they were breaking into my house and trying to kill me. One guy even climbed up on the garage and broke in the upstairs bedroom. I had no other choice but to leave. So I slipped out the side door and made my way over here in the wind and rain. People are sick and dying like dogs, Colonel. All my neighbors were forced out of their houses, too, not that I liked any of those weasels, always gossiping behind my back and spreading rumors. Kept the rifle out so they’d keep their distance, and my hand on the trigger just in case.”

“And you’ve not gotten sick yet?”

“Feel as fine as the day I was born,” she said, kicking off her boots. “Kept a safe distance from all them sickos. No, sir, I’m not going to let them breathe their dirty germs on this old gal.”

“How can that be?”

“Good genes, I guess. My mother lived into her nineties.” She stared at him. “And what about you? Why aren’t you coming down with the crud, Colonel?”

“I’ll tell you later. Since you’re here, how about helping me mop up this rainwater? I’ll get you an AVAB mask.”

“See you had a little accident,” she said, gesturing toward the hole in the ceiling. “That’s what happens when you try and build a house high up on a bluff overlooking the ocean. End up paying through the teeth for the view. Last thing I’d ever want is a view of that ocean.”

“Done gloating?”

“I ain’t gloating. Nope, no gloating here. It’s the plain truth. This island used to be a good place with hardworking people when I was a kid growing up in the sixties. Everything started to go downhill when you mainlanders started showing up and buying up all the old houses just to tear them down and build yourselves these fancy new ones with a view.”

“Didn’t stop you from coming over here when the shit hit the fan.”

The old woman turned to observe his wife and daughter lying on the couch. “They’re burning up pretty good.”

“What did you see on your way over here?” he asked. “Are people taking refuge from the elements?”

“Families and little kids are huddled on the streets and sicker than dogs. Some busted into cars and had to fight to keep others out. Them parents are desperate and will do anything they can to save them little tykes, even if that means attacking people for food and supplies. Of course they didn’t try any of that with me. Feel sorry for them kids and all, but there wasn’t much I could do to help. Could only protect myself.”

“Consider yourself lucky I let you in.”

“I knew you wouldn’t turn down an old pain-in-the-ass like me,” she said, laughing. “To know me is to love me.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You should have had all of those trees taken down years ago. Roots don’t go down very deep, and up here they’re susceptible to a good blow.”

“The tree got hit by lightning, for your information. Besides, in hindsight, there’s a lot of things I should have done.”

Versa walked over to the window and peered outside. “Not every day you see a tree hit by lightning that close to the base. Got a chainsaw?”