The Viral Epiphany (19 page)

“Wow! That would be neat. We could use candles and even cook outdoors on the grill!
 
It’ll be like camping!”

Marie looked at him with clear disdain. “I don’t think it would be that great.
 
Besides there’s a TV show on now that I want to see. Come on,” she said, “let’s go in and turn on the lights and see what happens.”

She started running towards the house with Johnny two steps behind. By the time they had reached the back door he had passed her by one step and he reached up and grabbed the door handle just before she did. He turned and smiled a victory smile for a second before he turned back, jerked open the door, and ran in.

“Mom!” he called, “we’re home!” Marie flipped up the light switch in the kitchen and the lights came on, then she followed him into the living room and turned on the television.
 

“Mom! Dad!” Johnny called again as Marie settled onto the sofa. Her show was just beginning.

Johnny walked over to the stairs and called upwards, “Mom, Dad!
 
We’re home!” But there was no answer.

“Mom?…Mom?” he called again.

“Hey, Marie.
 
Where do you think they are?”
 
She turned to him and listened but she only heard the television.
 
She turned it off and listened again.
 
The house was very quiet.
 
Her face became serious.

He’s right,
where could they be?
she thought,
 
and besides, the car is in the driveway...
 
She swallowed hard and felt her pulse begin to quicken.
 
Her eyes widened as she spoke to Johnny.

“Something’s wrong, Johnny.
 
I’m scared.”

“What do you mean?
 
They’re probably upstairs or in the basement, that’s all.”

Marie said nothing for a few seconds and then said, “Then why don’t they answer?”

Johnny said nothing in reply but he went over and looked up the darkened stairway again. “Mom!…Mom!” he called but again there was only silence. Marie got up from the sofa and walked over to him.

“We’d better go up,” she said.
 
They climbed the steps slowly pausing twice to listen for any sounds from above but they heard nothing.
 
When they reached the top of the stairway Marie went in front of Johnny and walked towards her parent’s bedroom.
 
The door was partially open.
 
She pushed the door all the way open and looked at their bed.
 
Then she screamed.

Within fifteen minutes after the 911 call was received by the Westford Fire Department an ambulance, a police car, and fire truck had arrived at the Chan residence.
 
It was located on the shores of Lake Nabnasset and access was down a half-mile long unpaved road.
 
The remoteness of the home had caused a slight delay in the emergency crew’s response; however, in the end it really had not made much difference. There was nothing that could have been done.
 
The couple had obviously bled to death in their bedroom and, from what the firemen had been able to learn from the near-hysterical children, the cause of death was a complete mystery.
  
It was clear that neither had suffered gunshot or knife wounds. Indeed the bodies were entirely intact.
  
It looked as if almost all of their blood had simply poured out of every one of their body orifices - even from the pores of their skin.

“What the hell do you think this is?” one of the firemen said to the paramedic who had just finished examining the bodies.
 
The fireman, a veteran of many tragic accidents, was clearly shaken.
 
The paramedic stood still for several seconds contemplating what he had just seen.
 
He was shaking his head in wonderment at the scene.

“I’m not sure,” he gasped,
 
“I’ve never seen anything like it…but there is something… we just got a notice from the State Board of Health to immediately report any cases of extraordinary bleeding, particularly if sudden death is involved.
 
The notice said it might be a case of that disease that is killing so many people in Asia now.”

“That hemorrhagic thing? You think this is it?”

“Yeh, yeh, I do,” he replied, “Has to be…that’s it.”
 
He continued to stand there looking at the now bloodless bodies.

The fireman looked back at the bodies of the couple and then made the sign of the cross, “Holy shit,” he said under his breath.

An hour after the paramedic had made his conclusion the director of the Massachusetts Department of Public Health had called the Federal Centers for Disease Control and then he had also called the United Nations Agency for Population Safety.
 
It was Dr. Charles Goodfellow of UNAPS who had first contacted the President Cranston.

“Sir, I’m sorry to be calling you at this time of day but I wanted to make sure you heard the news.”

“What news is that, Charlie?” he replied pleasantly.
 
It had been a good day in Washington D.C.
 
The French ambassador had called and requested a meeting.
 
It seemed that France wanted to purchase twenty U.S. manufactured fighter jets.
 
This could be the first success for the U.S. defense contractors in their campaign to crack the vast European Union market.
 
That could be a great help in next year’s election campaign.

“It looks like there is a confirmed case of Asian Fever in the United States, sir.”

“You mean that hemorrhagic thing?” the President said trying to recall the briefing he had received a week ago.

“Yes, that’s it.
 
There’s a probable case in Massachusetts.
 
It was just called in.”

“Understand,” he replied.
 
“Any information about the victims?”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure, but from the sound of their last name I would guess they are Chinese.”

“Chinese?”

“Probably.
 
The name is Chan, so I guess they are.”

“I agree; does sound Chinese doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.
 
Do you want us to take any action?
 
Or what about the CDC?
 
Should we contact them?”

President Cranston didn’t reply immediately.

“Hello?”

“Oh,” yes, Charlie.
 
I’m still here. I’m just thinking.
 
Look, let’s not get too carried away yet and over react. OK?
 
This is really, first of all, the responsibility of the local and state authorities, not the federal government.
 
Let’s let them handle it – at least for now.
 
Besides, based upon the information that you’ve provided to me in the past this is probably not a great risk for most of our population anyway, right?”

“Yes, sir.
 
I think that may be true.”

“Good. Very good.
 
Well, thanks for calling, Charlie.
 
Let me know if anything changes.

“Will do sir. Good night, sir.”

“Good night.”

Twenty

           
Taken singly and examined with the aid of a suitable microscope, a single snowflake is a crystalline wonder, full of six-sided symmetries and fuzzy, fanciful designs.
 
Each one is almost an entire universe in itself.
 
Yet taken as a group, their individual identities are lost and subsumed in the billows and clouds of snowstorms.
 
When nature conspires to conjure up a brew of howling winds and icy air, and snowflakes are as thick as a swarm of locusts, the beauty of the individual flake is hidden, but the storm takes on a collective and dark beauty of its own.

           
Such a storm now raged in the Alaskan wilderness, above the deep underground chambers of Omega headquarters, and had anyone been above ground to hear it, the storm winds would have sounded like the wail of a thousand banshees.
 
The falling snow, frozen now into hard crystals in the extraordinary cold of the arctic, flew sideways, skidding across the ground and then lifting back into the air and then skidding along the ground again. The long black nights of ice and snow had come to reclaim their ownership of this desolate landscape and no living thing could stand against their power without the shelter of a hole or nook or cave, out of the way of these horrific frozen blasts and their beautiful crystalline snowflakes.

           
Deep underground, three levels below the Omega control room, John Church and Tom Blackman were finishing their briefing to General Baker, oblivious of the deadly blizzard far above them.
 

           
“So that’s it then?” the general asked pointing to the suitcase with the frozen mammoth tissue.

           
“Yes, sir,” John said.
 
“We repacked it in dry ice in Ireland just before we left and then we took the quickest flights we could find to get here.
 
It should still be in good shape.”

           
General Baker nodded his head and thought for a moment. “What about this Itagaki guy you told me about.
 
Was there anything in the newspapers there about his disappearance?”

           
“No, sir.
 
I don’t think his body has been found yet.
 
Anyway, as far as we can tell he just showed up on his own in Ireland, so it’s unlikely anyone will miss him. I think he was just trying to escape from prosecution in Japan.
 
He insisted that he was just planning to lay low and be anonymous in Ireland.”

           
“In Ireland?
 
Are you kidding?” the general asked, “I would think he would stand out there like a sore thumb.”

           
“Oh, no sir,” John said somewhat uncomfortably.
 
He didn’t like contradicting generals; it almost always turned out to be the wrong thing to do.
 
“Ireland has become extremely cosmopolitan in the past few years.
 
He would have blended in with no problem at all.”

           
General Baker simply stared at John without saying anything.

           
“We were both very surprised, sir,” John added quickly, “I mean… who knew, right?” He looked over at Tom for reassurance but found none there.

           
General Baker continued staring at him for a few more seconds then slowly nodded once.
 
“Very well,” he said, “good job men. Now, why don’t you join Roger here for a tour of the bioresearch laboratory? I’m sure you’ll find it interesting.
 
You can leave the mammoth material here with me.
 
I’ll see that it gets to the right people.”

           
John and Tom turned to Roger who had just entered the room.
 
He was wearing a long white lab coat and cap, much like surgeons wear in hospital operating rooms. Disposable protective coverings covered his shoes, while a light blue surgical mask dangled from his neck.

           
“Come along with me gentlemen. We’ll get you suited up and then I’ll give you the quick tour of our facility.
 
I’m sorry it can’t be too in depth; you need a special security clearance for that, but you’ll get a good idea anyway,” he said with a smile. “Trust me.”

He turned and walked out the door with John and Tom trailing closely behind.
 
General Baker remained behind, and after the door closed he simply stood and stared at the suitcase with the mammoth tissue for several minutes, thinking.
 
Then, with a last look – a mixture of disgust and fear – at the suitcase, he picked up the phone and made a call to the bioresearch lab area.

           
“This is General Baker,” he said to the technician on the other end, “send someone over to conference room delta immediately for a pickup of material for the bio-mining group.”

           
Roger walked John and Tom down the long corridor away from the conference room to a corridor intersection where a sign indicated that Lab 1 was to the left, Lab 2 was towards the right, and Lab 3 was straight ahead.

           
“There are only three labs?” John asked as Roger began to open the door to the left. “I thought there would be a lot more given the size of the project.”