The Beginning at the End of the World: A Post-Apocalyptic, Dystopian Series (The Survivor Diaries Book 2) (6 page)

It had been four months – 123 days – since Monterey was hit by the enemy, and to my complete dismay, we had more to worry about than “God’s Warriors,” as Steve’s group asked to be called. Excuse me, Steven’s group.

It seems that a bacterial disease has taken a foothold in the Village. Doc Malcolm is calling it “The Sneaker Wave.” He believes it was dropped during the Last War and was triggered by the freezing temperatures we are trapped in now. It’s ironic that the only “Sneaker Waves” we have ever had to deal with were the waves at the beach that would sneak up on an unsuspecting person, usually tourists, and knock them off their feet and into the currents. Usually these were only slightly dangerous, mostly just embarrassing to the recipients.

It is hard for me to believe that the Last War had been so deviously planned. I guess if you are planning global devastation, you might as well do it thoroughly. So, some scientist must have been sitting in a laboratory somewhere on earth, playing out the scenario for the remote possibility of survivors. And some leader, somewhere on the same earth, made provisions to eradicate a completely helpless group of human beings.

I wonder if some day we will actually learn how this all came about. Just after the disaster hit us, I didn’t care very much about why, but now that we have found that the threat has not ended, I feel the need to know every detail.

The medical team checks us regularly for signs of radiation sickness and illnesses caused by environmental exposure. They have found a few people who have the early stages of lung and stomach cancers in our population. Thankfully, they caught them early enough to treat them in the hospital.

But the Sneaker Wave just snuck up on us and hit us like a wave. It is obviously highly contagious. We have twenty eight cases so far, and the Doc says that it has the potential of becoming a new plague.

I called the meeting between the medics and the Council. We gathered at the ballroom to discuss containment, resistance and finally a cure for the disease.

Three members of the Council have the disease now. Katie, Shelby and Adam were listening in on the walkies from the hospital. Doc Reilly was also listening in because she was needed at the hospital twenty-four-seven now.

When I heard that Shelby was ill, my mind went to my worse possible fear; that the kids were infected, that
Bailey
was infected.

“I would like to start by explaining the Sneaker Wave to the Council in a way in which it is understandable to laypeople.” Malcolm’s voice was stressed.

“First, this is environmentally contagious. We know that it was dormant somewhere in the environment, most likely it came down with the bombs that hit, so it is most contagious in the debris and rubble that surrounds us.” Malcolm stopped and cleared his throat as he tried to muffle a tremor in his voice.

Ammie walked around with face masks for everyone, and we all immediately put them on. By now, I could read Malcolm well, and I knew that this wasn’t a small outbreak of the flu; people were going to die unless we could find a cure immediately.

“We all need to wear these masks at all times, even when we are home with our families,” said Ammie. “Every hygiene precaution must be used at all times now. Hand washing, hand sanitizers and new bathroom precautions need to be put into effect.”

“Before we go jump to that, I would like Dr. Reilly to explain some of the details of the disease,” Malcolm interrupted. “She will try to explain it as simply as possible.”

We all had our masks on and were waiting to find out about the specifics of the disease that might take our lives. I held my breath and waited for the blows.

“Hello everyone,” said Dr. Reilly. “I wish I was talking to you under better circumstances. As Malcolm said, we have twenty-eight cases of the Sneaker Wave in the hospital, to date. The patients arrived with similar symptoms that we have identified as a man-made bacterium that is capable of staying dormant and is then released in freezing conditions.”

The tone and formality in Alexis’ voice told me that this was more than a warning.

“Is there a cure for this?” Bri asked. Her face was ashen. I know that she was very concerned about Adam. I got up and sat in the empty seat next to her. Her sister sat on the other side, looking equally as worried.

“I wish I could tell you there was,” replied Doctor Reilly. “Obviously, we don’t have the Center for Disease Control or the World Health Organization to help us. None of the medical people who survived have a background in research beyond medical school.

“Here is what we know,” her voice became very formal as she told us the grim facts. “Patients present with flu-like symptoms; however, it doesn’t end there. Vomiting and skin pustules form, in some, but not all, and there is a lung infection that presents like pneumonia. The chance of person-to- person infection through air borne pathogens is high, so every person in the Village must wear a mask. Also, the patients have all had high fevers, and swabs of their perspiration show traces of the bacteria.

“One major problem we are having is with antibiotics. Some of you might have heard about the problems before the war with the overuse of antibiotics. It seems that our chickens have come home to roost. The antibiotics are not having the effects we had hoped for. It’s still early, and so we might have some luck further into a course of antibiotics. That is what we are hoping for. It is still hard to tell.”

“We also have the problem of a pathogen that cannot just survive in cold weather, but it can survive suspended in the air for a relatively long time,” commented Malcolm. “That is why I am calling a complete moratorium on all public, in-person meetings.”

“Veda, and Joseph,” I said. “Please coordinate a full Village meeting on the walkies.”

“Thank you, Laura,” said Malcolm. “But this is just the beginning. We need to end all jobs done inside, such as office work, child care and all classes. Because we are at a complete disadvantage here with such a small amount of equipment for research, and so few people to do the work, it is going to be very difficult to eradicate. That’s why we can’t have close contact with each other. In fact, after this meeting, I recommend that everyone retreats to their homes.

“And that brings me to another part of the problem; the overcrowding in our homes since the fire. We need to break that up somehow. I know that we were saving some of the empty homes as places to conduct business, but it is really more important to get clusters of people separated.”

“While in our homes,” began Ammie, “we still need to be vigilant about cleanliness and physical contact. It is smart at this time, until we know more, that there is no sexual contact, including kissing.”

I shot a quick look at Mark, and I felt myself blush. He saw me and gave me a small, sly smile that only I could read. He was thinking about sex, as was his habit at inopportune times. I shot a quick glance around the room and saw Jackson staring at me.
Had he seen the little telepathic interaction between Mark and me?

I refocused on Ammie, who had continued talking about the possibilities of what would happen if we continue to have indoor contact without masks and maybe even gloves.

“Now, we know that these things will help greatly in prevention; however, we need to maintain our health. I have been working with Charlotte, and we have been growing herbs in her greenhouse that have positive medicinal benefits. The aloe vera plants have been working on the skin lesions to soothe patients. We will also be harvesting some of the greenhouse herbs to create teas that will help with resistance, such as echinacea. It’s also important to keep morale up, especially now that people are going to be stuck inside again, so I am making a St. John’s Wort and lemon balm tea for mental health and wellness.”

A weak voice came over the walkie, and it dawned on me that it was Katie. I looked over at Malcolm and saw the sadness on his face as his wife spoke. “That is a great idea, Amanda. It is also important that people get exercise. If they can take walks, but not come into close proximity to others, that should help, too. As far as we can see, this is contracted person to person and when digging through the debris.”

“We need to talk about the Out-bounders, as well. Eight out of nine of them have the Sneaker Wave, so we know that going into homes for food and other items is out, indefinitely,” Malcolm added, looking at our distressed faces. My mother’s face really showed alarm.

“The one Out-bounder who does not have the disease is Sampson. We are doing tests and keeping a close eye on him, but we have a working hypothesis; we think Sampson did not contract the Sneaker Wave because he had a resistance that somehow has something to do with his previous homelessness. Please remember, this is just a theory for now.”

∞

This meeting was the worst yet. I asked for the rest of the day and evening to work out the details. I will announce my decisions to the Villagers tomorrow.

Veda was telling everyone over the walkies to return to their homes due to a possible impending storm.

Mark and I picked up Bailey from day care directly after the meeting and brought her home. I had a box of papers and my now working laptop, thanks to generator power, so I was set to work from home.

Bailey was unusually quiet on our walk, and I suspected that she sensed something was not right. She was far more intuitive than most children, but spending time with my nieces when they were growing up had prepared me for that.

My main problem for the day was trying to figure out our supper time meal without having to go into the details about what was happening with the Villagers. I did not want to lie, but having a mass panic before I could figure out how to handle everything would be worse.

When we got home, Bailey went into the kitchen to help Annie with supper. Before she could touch anything, I saw Annie bring her to the clean water basin and begin to sanitize her.

Mark and I went to our room, and I set my things on my desk. I sat and rubbed my temples to try to calm the growing ache in my head. Mark came and massaged my shoulders, but I really wanted to be left alone. I didn’t tell him that, though.

“You don’t have to figure out everything yourself,” he said.

“I don’t?” I asked, pointing out window. “All of those people think I do.”

“I know, but you have people under you. Delegate.”

“Mark, at times like this I want to give up,” I said, planting my forehead on the cold, hard desk. “It just keeps coming, and not only can I not get ahead of it, I’m failing. People keep dying; the freezing, the fire, and now the Sneaker Wave.”

“YOU CANNOT BLAME YOURSELF FOR ALL OF THAT,” he said loudly, stunning me out of what was about to become a good-sized meltdown. He had a knack for being able to talk me down from the edge of a full-blown Chernobyl.

He took me to the bed, and laid me down on the soft surface. He closed the curtains, came to my side and kissed me on my forehead, going against everything we had just heard about physical contact.

“Rest,” he said gently this time. “It will come to you.”

When I woke, Mark was beside me, holding me tightly. I felt his heat warming my body, but I would not let our physical contact go any further than that - doctor’s orders.

He opened his eyes, and I whispered, “You were right. I do feel better.”

I checked the time on the windup alarm clock and realized how late it was getting.

We went into the kitchen, with Mark’s hand on the small of my back. Jill was helping with supper, and I asked them to stop and come into the living room with us for a family meeting.

“You go, I’ll keep working,” said Jill.

“No, Jill. You are family,” I told her.

I picked up my walkie that was on the “dedicated Jackson channel” and asked him to come over. Then I called for Veda on our usual walkie.

Mark stoked the fire until it was raging, licking up to the sky through the stone fireplace. The sky was dark and irate, angry at what the human race had done, and it threatened more snow to cover up our mess.

Everyone assembled was wearing a mask.

Bri and Ammie settled in on the couch with Jake. I sat on the rocking chair near the warm fire, and Mark pulled up a chair next to me. Bailey sat on the floor with the beautiful doll that had once belonged to Bri, dressing her in various outfits. Mrs. Ingram was in her wheelchair on the other side of the fireplace. She looked so frail. Annie, Jake, and Billy also pulled up chairs.

Jackson and Veda let themselves in. Jackson was much quieter than usual today. That was unsettling.

I felt the missing person in our group and looked worriedly at Bri. Her face was sad, and my usually cast-iron niece rested her head on her father’s shoulder and stared despondently into the fire.

I took a moment to take in my family. Some had been family by blood, and some had been family by horrendous tragedy, but I loved them all; well, maybe not so much Jackson most of the time.

“Most of you were at the meeting today. I guess the rest of you were told what’s going on while I rested.” I saw the scared, but still stable faces of these wonderful people who did nothing to deserve this. Bailey got up from her spot, doll in hand, and sat on my lap.

“What’s going on, Laura?” she asked. I hadn’t thought that no one would have wanted to overstep their boundaries by telling her.