Pestilence: A Medical Thriller Page 11

  The streets weren’t empty there, and he had a hard time keeping up with traffic. His vision was getting blurry, and the constant vomiting had burst the blood vessels in his eyes. He could see the red strands running along the whites of his eyes in the rearview mirror. He felt it as a sharp pain in his head and eyes.

  At a stoplight, he stumbled out of the jeep and over to the car next to him. The driver was a portly man with glasses, and his wife was in the passenger seat with the window down.

  “Excuse me,” Kyle said, slurring his speech. “Where is the hospit—”

  Vomit spurted out of his mouth and over the woman. It hit her in the face and dripped down onto her white blouse and her neck, making her look like a murder victim. Kyle’s head spun, and he tumbled backward.

  He heard her screaming and the frantic voice of the husband trying to calm her down.

  32

  Katherine sat up in the hospital bed and pressed the call button for the nurse. The nurse took almost five minutes to get back.

  “What do you need, dear?”

  “Did you call the police?”

  The nurse took a few steps around the room, checking the equipment. “None of the phones are working. We’re having some sort of blackout or something, dear. I don’t even know how they found out about you, because none of our phones have been working for a while.”

  “So you don’t have any police here?”

  “’Fraid not. But relax. You can stay here until we figure something out.”

  The nurse checked her IV, which was empty, and then removed the bag and replaced it with a new saline solution before pressing a few buttons on a machine and leaving the room. Katherine leaned her head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. She wondered where her dad was and imagined the panic that must have gripped him when she hadn’t shown up at the airport or answered her phone.

  Suddenly, she became aware that someone had walked into her room though she hadn’t heard anything. Ian was standing at the doorway. He grinned and sat down in the chair next to the bed.

  Unable to say anything, she sobbed.

  “You didn’t miss me?” he asked.

  “Please just kill me,” she cried, covering her face with her hands.

  “I don’t want to kill you.”

  “Why are you doing this? Who are these people? What have they done that they have to die?”

  Ian put his foot on the bed and pushed himself back, balancing on two legs of the chair. “It’s not what they’ve done. It’s what they’re likely to do. They are trying to stop something that my employers don’t want stopped. They’ll become leaders in a movement to stop it. An army of sheep led by a lion is more powerful than an army of lions led by a sheep.”

  She wiped at the tears, shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “The world’s changing, Katherine. A new one is on the way. And certain people aren’t welcoming of the new.”

  “Please leave me alone, please.”

  “I promise that I won’t harm you.”

  “I’m at the hospital. You’ve already harmed me.”

  He was silent.

  “They told me one of the boys is in critical condition. Why did you do that? Why would you hurt people if you don’t have to?”

  Ian grew visibly uncomfortable and then licked his lips. Katherine noticed that a small strand of drool was coming off his lower lip, and he suctioned it up with his tongue.

  “Who knows why we do what we do? Are you well enough to walk on your own, or should I get a wheelchair?”

  “Why me? Why did you choose me?”

  He rose. “Let’s go.”

  A red Audi of the same model as her car was out front. Ian held open the door for her, and she got inside. He went to the driver’s side, got in, and pulled away from the hospital.

  He wiped his mouth again, making sure no more drool was leaking out of him—a side effect of the medication he had been taking, as was occasionally slurred speech. He would have to watch himself more closely.

  “It’s your car now,” he said. “One year newer.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want something that you killed to get.”

  “Who said anything about killed? I bought this for you. Look at the licensing on the back window. It was purchased today. Cost me forty grand. Plus an extra five to get the dealer to come in at this hour.”

  She glanced back and saw the yellow tag with the date. “Why would you buy me a car?”

  “Because I ruined your last one. It’s only fair.”

  She shook her head, staring out the window at the passing homes and trees that swayed in the darkness like shadows. “I don’t understand this. I don’t know why I’m here.”

  “There’s only three more names on the list. After that, I’ll let you go. I promise.”

  “Who are the three people?”

  “No one you’d know. The next one is a man that works for the National Security Administration. He’s thinking about leaking information about the imprisonments.”

  “What imprisonments?”

  “Oh, that’s right,” he said with a grin. “You don’t know. They’re rounding everyone up. Anyone displaying symptoms of a certain disease is taken to various hospitals for personal quarantine. Everyone else not displaying symptoms are taken to cages set up in fields and on beaches, in the middle of streets…”

  Her stomach dropped. “What about my dad?”

  “What about him?”

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. If he had arrived in LA before they shut flights down, he’d be in a cage. But I’m guessing he never made it out here.”

  For a long time, she was quiet, staring out the window. In college, the school had had an earthquake scare once, and everyone had panicked and run out of the building. Going outside was the last thing you were supposed to do, and everyone had known better, but they’d done it anyway.

  Under stress, people’s reasoning broke. Their calm broke. They did what their reptilian brains told them to do. She had known this her entire life. But something was different about the man sitting next to her. He wasn’t like that. Even when he was murdering people, he was completely calm, without a trace of emotion.

  His eyes were forward, concentrating on the road. She was embarrassed of the thought, but it crossed her mind that he was extraordinarily good looking. She wondered why someone with his talent, intelligence, and looks would choose to do what he did. Murderers were supposed to be the monsters that hid under our beds, not someone who could be in a J. Crew catalogue.

  “What’s really going on?” she asked softly.

  He glanced at her and then back out at the road. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  33

  Howie stopped about a dozen feet from the entrance to the cage. He swallowed hard, not so much from nervousness but because of an itch he’d been having in his throat. He was still sweating although he didn’t feel like he should be, and a general malaise was coming over him. He ignored it, attributing it to fatigue, and went forward.

  The guard at the entrance looked up. Howie didn’t recognize him.

  “Hey, how are ya?” Howie said.

  “Good.”

  “Here for two people. They’re being transferred up to the Hills.”

  The man pulled out his iPad and opened a document. “What two people?”

  “Jessica Burke and Harold Burke.”

  He flipped through the document for a moment. “Okay, where they going again?”

  “Facility up in the Hills. I don’t know why. Lieutenant just said to come get ’em and take ’em up.”

  “Lieutenant Edmonds?”

  “Yeah.”

  The man thought for a moment. “I’m gonna call and verify really quick.”

  Howie swallowed and felt the sweat slowly trickle off his head and down his neck. “Listen, I was supposed to take these two up there at the beginnin
g of the night and screwed up. You call the lieutenant, and he’s gonna chew my ass, brother.”

  The man thought for a few seconds and said, “Fine. Just get ’em outta here quick.”

  The guard let Howie into the cage. He walked toward the back. On a cot with her legs crossed, her head tilted to the side, was Jessica, fast asleep. In the cot next to hers was Mike. His cot was pulled closer and to the front of Jessica’s. Howie knelt beside her and glanced at the guard at the entrance. He wasn’t paying attention.

  “Jessica,” he whispered.

  Her eyes opened, and he put a finger to his lips, indicating for her to be quiet. She sat up and put her arms around his neck. He didn’t know how to respond at first, and then he hugged her back—something he hadn’t done since she was a child.

  He said, “Let’s go.”

  Mike had woken. “How’d you get back here?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Come on, I got you outta here, too.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t worry about how. If anyone asks, your name is Harold Burke. Let’s go before they change their mind.”

  They walked in front as Howie stayed behind them. He nodded to the guard at the entrance, who was eyeing him. The guard watched them a good five or six seconds before returning to what he was doing.

  As soon as they got around the corner and out of sight of the guard, Howie said, “Run, now.”

  The metal of the jeep groaned as all three jumped in. Howie turned the ignition and spun a U-turn, then headed down the block before turning onto Belvedere, toward the city.

  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?”
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br />   “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.