Tammy and Ringo

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual names, persons, businesses, and incidents is strictly coincidental. Locations are used only in the general sense and do not represent the real place in actuality.

TAMMY AND RINGO

By

N.C. REED

Creative Texts Edition

Copyright 2015

By

N.C. REED

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Published by

CREATIVE TEXTS PUBLISHERS

BARTO, PA

www.creativetexts.com

COVER PHOTOS MODIFIED/ USED BY LICENSE

CREDIT: THE NATIONAL GUARD/ JOZEF TUROCI

CHAPTER ONE

Tammy Gleason was exhausted. Having twin athletic scholarships was helping her get through college without any debt, but it was always hard this time of year. Basketball and softball overlapped just a little as basketball was winding down and softball was getting started. The games didn’t clash, but they were close together.

Having just finished a marathon of practice for both, she was anxious for a hot shower and some sack time. She ignored her phone , and didn’t even glance at her dorm room’s answering machine, instead grabbing towel and toiletries and heading for the bathroom she shared with three other girls.

Twenty minutes later she was feeling almost human again. Wearing only her towel, she plopped down heavily into her chair and listened to her messages. Coach's announcements, skip. Friend Wendy wanting to get a pizza, skip. Dad warning her to get out of the city while she could, ski. . . .Wait. What? She replayed the message.

“Tammy, for God’s sake where are you? I’ve been calling for over an hour! Listen to me, I don’t have much time. Things are about to get really bad. I mean really bad. You need to pack up whatever you can’t live without and get back to the base right now! Don’t stop for anything but gas and make that quick. Bring everything you can carry but don’t hesitate to leave it all behind if you have to. I’ve got to go, baby girl, we’re being deployed right now. Sweetheart, please be careful and trust no one. Understand? Trust no one. The wheels are coming off, Tammy. I love yo--”

Tammy sat back in her chair, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Holy shit. They were deploying her father’s Army unit here at home? What the hell? She checked her cell phone and realized that it had been his call that she had ignored. She hastily listened to a similar message, noting the fear in her father’s voice. She had never heard him sound like that before.

Her father was stationed at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Reese Gleason was a Battalion Sergeant Major, one of the highest ranking NCOs on the base.

For almost as long as she could remember, it had just been her and her father. Tammy’s mother had died when Tammy was just four years old. Her parents had been only children and her grandparents had passed before she was even born. Reese had managed to put off deployments until she was of school-age, but it had cost him later with extra deployment in the way of TDY assignments.

The wife of one of his best friends had agreed to take Tammy in when Reese was off-base, leaving her with Mrs. Steele for months at a time. With Sergeant Steele also gone and the Steeles unable to have children of their own it had been a good arrangement for both of them. Lucinda Steele became a surrogate mother for Tammy and Tammy became the same kind of daughter. The two were as close as any mother and daughter might have been, save that Lucinda had not given life to Tammy.

She tried her father’s cell phone but got no answer. She left him a voicemail acknowledging his message and informing him she would be on her way within the next hour. It was all she could do. She turned the television on and switched it to a news channel, wondering if there was anything being said. But there was nothing, at least not yet.

She dressed quickly and started throwing her things into a duffle bag. She ignored her stereo, television, uniforms and other less than useful things. She grabbed the small emergency kit that her father had prepared for her and placed it in the top of the duffle. She didn’t even know what was in it, since it was sealed, but Reese had always told her to grab it if nothing else and so, she did. She’d open it later if she had time, or had need.

She was almost finished when the television gave an alert sound, indicating breaking news. She stopped and waited.

“Ladies and gentlemen we interrupt our regular newscast to bring you breaking news from Atlanta, where the CDC is about to hold a press conference. We go live now to our reporter in the field, Gretchen Danner. Gretchen, what can you tell us?”

“Thanks, Dave. The first thing is that this announcement literally comes out of left field. The CDC rarely makes the time to hold an actual press conference and almost never actually asks for television time when doing so. Their only response so far to our questions has been that this announcement is, quote ‘Of vital importance to the entire country’ end quote. That’s all they’ve shared with us at this time, but we are trying to get at least some word from. . .Dave, hold on, something. . .Okay, someone’s on their way to the podium. . .my colleague is telling me this is Dr. Meredith Baxter, the actual head of the CDC, and that it is Ilesa Bokalu, the press agent for the CDC coming to the microphone. Let’s listen in.”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I ask you for order, please,” the dark-skinned woman rapped lightly on the podium. “We have very little time, so please listen carefully. Dr. Baxter is about to make a statement that is vital to everyone in this entire nation and to people around the world. What she is about to tell you is all the information we have at the moment so please, do not interrupt her with questions. Aides are circulating among you with written information as well, so there’s no need to ask her to repeat herself. Dr. Baxter.” Bokalu gave way to the graying blonde woman behind her. Baxter looked frazzled. As if she hadn’t slept in a while. She wasted no time with pleasantries.

“One week ago, World Health Organization field agents reported a strange sickness in the Montanbu region of Greater Africa. This sickness showed similar symptoms with a certain type of rabies usually found in primates across the continent. It has always been held that this particular strain of rabies was not transferable to humans. This strain of rabies isn’t something that can simply be ‘caught’, to use a phrase we’re all familiar with, but rather must be transmitted by bite or exchange of bodily fluids, say the blood or saliva of an infected creature entering an open wound.”

“We have since learned, however, that this strain can in fact be transferred to humans, and from human to human. The first cases detected were monitored closely. Those infected began to show signs of dementia, paranoia, and exhibited aggressive hostility toward everyone around them, usually within twenty-four to thirty-six hours,.” She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“Approximately six hours after these additional symptoms presented, the hospital’s quarantine was broken. Those infected escaped into the city and went on a rampage the likes of which have seldom been seen. Military and police units were called in to stop the resulting riots, but were unsuccessful.”

“Worse, many people who were infected and were not yet aware of it managed to board international flights. These flights landed in France, England, Germany, Brazil, Argentina, Mexico, and,” she looked up, “the United States.”

An immediate uproar went through the press but Baxter held up her hand, and continued to talk.

“Please, I remind you that time is precious here!” she bellowed. The reporters calmed somewhat, but looked rattled.

“We had no idea that any of this had been allowed to escape containment until a few hours ago. By the time we learned of it, it was too late. Those unaware of their infection had reached their destinations and disappeared into the populace. Using the time line for the original subjects, these newly infected are almost certainly past the initial infection and are now themselves capable of infecting others.”

“We have no idea how this has happened. Blood samples from the point of origin will be arriving soon and we will start at once working on a way to counteract this virus. Until we can do that however, the risk of infection remains high. We are already hearing of other cases in Europe and South America. It is unlikely we will be spared.”

“I am making this announcement without the permission of the White House because it is vital that Emergency Responders as well as civilians be aware of this threat. We will bring you--” The screen went black. Tammy almost jumped.

“Well,” ‘Dave’ came back on the screen, “it appears we’ve had some kind of technical trouble on Gretchen’s end, but we’ll try and get her back for you as soon as possible. In the meantime, this announcement from the CDC director is more than a little scary, if you ask me. Joining me now is our in-house medical expert Doctor Jamie--” Again, the screen went black.

“Oh, this is bad,” Tammy muttered to herself. She turned off the now useless television, and grabbed her bags. Taking one last look around, she walked to the door, and turned the knob to exit. The door opened against her suddenly, and pushed her back toward her bed.

“What the hel--oh, Gina! You scared me half to. . .Gina?”

Tammy’s roommate, Gina Terrio, staggered into the room. Her only response was an eerie moan that made the hair on Tammy’s neck stand up straight.

“Gina, what is wrong with you?” Tammy demanded. Gina looked up at the sound, and gave Tammy her first full look at her. Her eyes had a glazed, unfocused look, and her mouth was covered in blood that had leaked down onto her shirt.

“Oh, no,” Tammy breathed. And Gina attacked.

Faster than she would have thought possible, Gina crossed the distance between them, reaching for Tammy with bloodstained hands. With that small part of her brain that wasn’t in total panic mode, Tammy realized that Gina was missing three fingers on her left hand.

She must have been bitten, that small part of her brain informed her.

Meanwhile, the rest of her brain, the part that was screaming ‘oh shit’ very loudly, was backpedaling, hands grasping for anything that would help fend off her former roommate. Her right hand fell on her softball bat.

Tammy Gleason was not a waif. She was strong and athletic. And she had been swinging a bat for a long time. Her hands were on autopilot as the bat came up and that tiny, non-panicked part of her brain yelled ‘swing’.

So she did.

The aluminum bat collided with Gina’s onrushing head with a sickening crunch and the girl fell to the floor instantly.

“Oh my. . .my God!” Tammy just looked on in shock at what had been her roommate, and friend. She had acted on instinct, defending herself, but the fact remained that Gina was. . . .

“I can’t worry about that now, I can’t worry about that now,” Tammy repeated over and over again. Slinging her bag again, she stepped carefully over Gina’s body, pausing to wipe the blood off her bat on Gina’s bedding before stepping into the hallway. Looking both ways, she was relieved to see it was empty.

She locked the door and walked away.

*****

She walked as calmly as possible to her car, a newer model Honda Accord. Her father had bought it for her when she had announced her intention to attend the University of Memphis. Her decision had been based on the Ranger Training Program the school operated, one of very few such programs in the nation. Such a program would help her gain useful summer work experience which she hoped would give her a leg up when it came time to apply for a position in the Department of Interior.

Throwing her duffle in the back seat she crawled behind the wheel. As she started the car she was immensely grateful she had filled the tank earlier in the week. She rarely used the car during the week so the tank was topped off. It wouldn’t get her all the way home but it would take her a long way.

As she put the car into reverse she saw students running through the quad. She could make out a few shouts but not what was being said. She watched a moment longer and saw a male student staggering after those running. His condition was much like that of Gina Terrio, with blood seeping from a wound on his upper left arm and blood around his mouth. She couldn’t see his eyes from where she sat but suspected they were glazed over.

Did that plane from Manu. . .Mabo. . .Africa, land in Memphis? She shook her head. She didn’t have time for that right now. Once she was home she could think on things like that all she wanted to. Right now she had to concentrate on getting home.

She put the car in drive and hit the road. Automatically she pulled down University Lane and out onto Poplar Avenue. If she followed this road it would take her all the way out of town and eventually to Pickwick Dam. From there she could go to Savannah and get on Highway 64, which would carry her most of the way across Tennessee toward home.

There was also the interstate. I-40 would carry her well into North Carolina. In her mind’s eye she considered both routes. Which was better? The route down 64 would take her through dozens of small towns, stretches of two-lane highway and any number of possible places for trouble.

The interstate on the other hand would take many more miles, which would mean she would need gas sooner. But the interstate was two-lane all the way and more around places like Nashville. There were numerous places along the way to get fuel, food, and use the restroom safely as well. Yes, I-40 was the way to go. Decision made, she changed lanes and left Poplar at I-240, heading for the I-40 East and for home.

She had expected traffic to be worse and was pleasantly surprised to find it light and moving without difficulty. She sped down the three-lane highway, careful to keep her speed at the limit. The last thing she needed was to get a ticket. She turned on the radio and tuned in to a local all-news channel to see if there was more information available.

They were talking about how good the Grizzlies were looking in the last few regular season games. Sighing, she turned the volume down but left the radio on in case they had information later. Seeing her exit coming she changed lanes and hit the off ramp smoothly.