The Doomsday Infection (27 page)

Of course, he’d heard the rumors of what the captain had done earlier that day when they went ashore to find the missing crew; apparently he’d ordered the murder of a crewman that was still alive - not the behavior of an officer and a gentleman, and not the sort of man he wanted to command him. He dwelt on his best course of action. He felt anguish in the pit of his stomach and realized there was only one thing he could do, and that his actions would put him in danger li
ke never before. It was only his good conscience, and for the men and the safety of the country that he loved and had sworn to protect that he was even contemplating such a terrible plan. There was only one thing for it, he was going to have to relieve the captain of his duty. He was talking about mutiny . . .

CHAPTER 37

18:15 PM

Sergeant Gruber choked on his cigarette at the startling sight of the furniture truck and spluttered; “Get after them.”

The driver started he engine and gave chase. The
Humvee lurched from the side street and was hot on the heels of the furniture truck, although the driver had to swerve around the objects of furniture ejected from the back.

A bullet cracked Luke’s side-view mirror. “Shit.” He saw the army vehicle trying to pull alongside him. He swerved taking evasive action and the enormous furniture truck sent the smaller vehicle spinning off the road.

He put his foot down, but knew deep down that they could never out run the faster Humvee, which zoomed up his inside. He lurched to the side, but this time the driver expected it and took the necessary action to avoid a collision and as Luke straightened the truck, the Humvee slipped through the gap and got ahead of them.

“They are not wearing helmets,” Sophie gasped. Worried for the danger the soldiers were in. Luke stared at her incredulously, fearing she had lost her mind
, fretting for the well-being of the men who were about to kill them.

The
Humvee got ahead of them and the machine-gunner slowly stood as if he had all the time in the world while he organized the roof-mounted machine gun and got ready to aim at them. Luke spotted a turning to their right going over a canal and yanked down hard on the steering wheel, but because of the furniture truck’s huge bulk, instead of taking the turn, it rose into the air as if it was about to topple over, “Argh!” Luke screamed out as the rear of the truck caught up with the front and the wheels on one side started to rise.

The soldiers laughed as they saw the furniture trucks predicament, “What an ass-hole,” the driver laughed. “What a boner.” He watched awestruck as the beast finally overturned and screeched along the street amid a blast of sparks.

Luke gasped, badly shaken as the truck ground to a halt. He quickly cleared his head, and he saw fuel pooled in front of the cab and spread over the street, knowing the smallest spark could ignite it. “Are you OK?” he asked Sophie.

She nodded. “I’m OK,” she said and saw the army vehicle turning a circle up ahead. She released her seatbelt, climbed up the interior of the truck, and pushed up the heavy door. She crawled out onto the side of the truck and balanced on the wheel before dropping down onto the bridge. She noticed the pool of fuel, and recognized the danger; she promptly made her way to the back of the overturned truck hoping that it would give her some protection from the inevitable bullets. Luke emerged from the cab, and crouched down
, rushing along the side of the truck as the Humvee completed the circle and now faced them. He did not hang around and leaped down from the back of the truck making Sophie jump.

The machine-gunner saw the upturned truck laying in the intersection like some sort of dinosaur
, smoke streaming from the engine compartment. He spotted Luke and Sophie hiding at the back of the truck. “This’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.” The driver laughed and picked up speed, enjoying the first action they’d had in days, and headed toward them.

Luke gulped,
they were sitting ducks as the armored vehicle rushed at them. He took the pistol from the front of his pants but knew it would be hopeless. Even the machine-gunner on top had armor shielding around him. He could try for a head shot, but he was too far away and a moving target, but he lined up and aimed anyway.

The machine-gunner saw Luke and chuckled. “What a boner.” He laughed and swung the heavy machine-gun around to face him. Steadied his balance and readied his aim.

Luke came out from behind the safety of the truck, held the pistol two-handed and took careful aim, knowing he only had one chance at this and aimed to take out the gunner, the most dangerous enemy at that moment and fired.

The bullet pinged of
f the armor plating protecting the gunner, who sniggered. “Not bad . . .” he mumbled to himself. “But not good enough . . .” He went to spray the area with a retaliatory shot when the Humvee hit the fuel and went into a spin.

“Whoa!” the driver yelled and wrestled with the steering, he clipped the side of the truck, which spun them in the other direction, shaking him badly. The driver sp
un the wheel in the opposite direction, trying to regain control of the vehicle when the Humvee clipped the curb, shot up the embankment of the canal totally out of control, went up on its side, teetered, then dropped upside-down into the canal with an almighty splash.

Luke could not believe his eyes as the
Humvee sank into the murky depths of the canal. He rushed to the bridge and tentatively peered into the stagnant water, clogged with weeds, unable to see the vehicle, only the bubbles emitting from it.

“We have to help them,” Sophie said.

“You’re joking, right?! They were going to kill us.”

She looked at him pleading with her eyes and bit her lip. He sighed heavily, made his way down onto
the towpath where one of the hazmat suited soldiers emerged from the depths gasping for air. He sucked in huge mouthfuls of fresh air, and then spluttered as he swallowed some dirty canal water at the same time.

The sergeant splashed wildly and swam noisily to the embankment. “Help me. My suit is filling up with water.” Luke watched hypnotized as the sergeant sank beneath the water level, then popped up again, “Help!”

“Luke!” chided Sophie and nodded crossly towards the sergeant.

Luke leaned out and outstretched his hand, “Come on, grab hold.”

The sergeant splashed noisily toward Luke’s outstretched arm, unable to swim properly as his hazmat suit filled quickly with filthy canal water. He panicked and sank fast. As he resurfaced, he once again stretched his hand out to Luke’s thankfully, and their fingers had almost touched when an alligator tugged him back down under the surface of the water.

Luke stepped back startled. He stared aghast as the water bubbled furiously where the sergeant had been.

He popped back up as the water around him turned bright red. “Help me! There’s something in here!” He scrambled towards Luke who held onto a nearby cypress tree and leaned out further to the soldier, when an alligator soared from the canal and took a huge chunk out of the sergeant’s torso. His eyes popped open, his jaw dropped and he coughed up blood.

Luke made contact and grabbed
the soldier by his wrists and heaved him to the side of the river when he saw the triangular wake caused by the alligator’s snout slightly below the surface heading towards the sergeant once more at speed. He redoubled his attempt and with supreme effort, he got a proper hold of the sergeant, strained with the weight of the man and his water-filled suit and started to pull him from the canal. The alligator snatched him from Luke’s grip and within a second had dragged him back down under the water’s surface.

CHAPTER 38

18:55 PM

Commander Roscoe charged onto the bridge of the USS Thomas Jefferson accompanied by four armed men, and swiftly took control of the room. The officers relinquished their weapons and raised their hands, all apart from the captain who seethed with hatred.

“How dare you come bursting in here!” the captain raged. “What is the meaning of this? I will have you court marshaled and shot for such treachery, you mutinous dog.”

Save your breath Captain, I’m relieving you of your command. I’m taking over as you are no longer fit to captain this vessel,” Commander Roscoe said formally. He turned to the armed guards. “You two; take him to the brig, stay with him.” He turned to the remaining pair of guards. “Cover the room - any funny business. Shoot.”

The officers were marched from the bridge accompanied by an armed escort towards the brig. Roscoe turned to a subordinate. “Assemble the men,” he said. “I’ll be making a speech presently.”

__________

The sailors assembled on deck as if on parade, smartly dressed as they stood at ease, their pant-legs and neck scarves flapping in the breeze. Commander Roscoe approached the microphone and began his speech. Those men that could not attend due to their duties, listened over the
tannoy system, some had the benefit of watching on CCTV monitors as the commander broadcasted to the enlisted men. “Attention, attention, this is Commander Roscoe; I have taken control of this vessel and I've placed the captain under arrest. I’m sure by now, that you’ve all heard the gossip that the Bubonic Plague has contaminated the ship. This, I’m afraid I can confirm is true . . .”

Around the ship
the crewmembers reacted in shock to the news, as the commander continued. “I’m sure that you are also aware that there is no antidote . . .” He let this sink in for a few moments. “I’m going to tell you a story from history that may best illustrate my reasons for the actions I have taken and the tough decisions that I have made on your behalf.”

The
crewmen quit their regular chores to listen to the commander. “I’m sure that since the recent Black Death outbreak erupted in Miami that you have been brushing up on the Bubonic Plague, and how it decimated Europe in the 1600s. This time period has a special meaning to me, as will become apparent, if you’ll indulge me for a moment I’ll give you some background . . .”

“Back in 1665 the plague raged through Europe, indiscriminately killing all in its wake, multi-millions died as the Bubonic Plague marched through mainland Europe finally arriving on the British Isles in early 1665. It carried from village to village by travelers and tradesmen. It took the population, simple peasants and yeoman, a while to understand what had happened to them; putting it down to God’s work and that there was nothing they could do to stop its march, when one brave village,
Eyam, in Derbyshire in England made a stand. When the plague arrived there in a flea-infested bundle of cloth from London delivered to the tailor, George Roscoe - yes, my ancestor.”

“Within the week he was dead, and the villagers looked
to their Puritan leader, a Thomas Stanley for guidance. He decided bravely, to quarantine the village from the outside world in an attempt to halt the plague’s progress. It was tantamount to mass suicide, yet if it were to work, their selfless act would have saved the rest of the country. The plague raged through the village in the following weeks killing most, but sparing the odd one or two, there was no rhyme or reason to it. Elisabeth Hancock for example had been in close contact with the bacterium, but never succumbed even though she buried six of her children and her husband within an eight day period, and Marshal Howe, the village grave digger also survived despite handling all of the infected bodies.

They invented a system for goods to be delivered from the outside world. Leaving payment of coins, w
hich they dipped in vinegar in the hope of cleansing them, on a boundary stone and the outsider would leave supplies in its place.

One full year after the Black Death had subsided throughout the c
ountry, the first outsiders bravely entered the village to find only one survivor for the village that had once counted over eight hundred inhabitants, but their selfless act had subdued the plague in that part of the country and undoubtedly saved countless lives.

That was the survival ratio back then and this new strain of the Bubonic Plague has an even higher mortality rate . . .” He heard a hubbub reverberate around the ship to this news. “What I’m proposing is that we become that village, we sacrifice ourselves to save the many, we will sit it out, and, when it's over then, the survivors, if any, can make their way to safety.”

As the Commander spoke, one of the sailors fell into a faint, the men nearest to him backed away in fear. “Don’t break rank, you sniveling worms!” The warrant officer yelled at them, he addressed the sailor flat out on the deck. “You; stand up or you will be put on a charge!”

The Commander chose to ignore the collapsed man and became aware of coughing and the odd sneeze amongst
the ranks of men, he continued, “I know that this is asking a lot, but in all honesty, as there is no cure for the Black Death, most of us will succumb to this virulent disease.” He paused and felt no shame or guilt that he wore a life-saving hazmat suit. “I’m working on a scheme with the good doctor to mix up a concoction, a suicide pill, that one can take rather than suffer the ravages of the plague. To the religious amongst you this end is not a viable option, but there will be pain-killers to ease the suffering.”

“In time it will be recognized that this great sacrifice that we make today is one of honor and dignity in the face of certain death . . . and that we can be positive of being revered in the future.” He gazed around the bridge and saw that his words were hitting home, that his fellow officers thrust their chests out with pride, and guessed that the same was
happening all over the ship. He knew that his whole life had been leading to this moment, cometh the man, cometh the hour, he thought. He felt his own pride rise to bursting point, as he would go down in history as a hero. He had tears of humility forming at the corners of his eyes while he continued his message. “Medals will be awarded posthumously, and bestowed to our loved ones with all the pomp and ceremony that such acts of bravery deserve, so they can take comfort that our end would not have been in vain. This ship could well become a catchword for all that is noble and worthy because there could not be a more valiant reason than to give one’s life for ones country. We will even be admired for our courage in making this stand, and who knows, it might catch on, but we will be the first and be certain that in centuries from now your names will be spoken of in awe . . .”

19:00 PM

Luke stared aghast unable to speak, he watched in despair, as another soldier’s body, already dead from drowning bobbed to the surface only to go through the indignity of having chunks bitten out of him by the ‘gator.

“Luke,” Sophie said trying to get his attention. “We have to go.” But he stared at the millpond surface of the canal in silence, still half expecting one of the soldiers to materialize. “Don’t give up on me now. We have to get out of here.”

He shook himself out of his gloomy reflection, and she smiled at him. “So how ar
e we going to get to the President’s compound?”

“Let’s see . . .
in the last forty-eight hours since meeting you, I’ve ridden a jet ski, driven a speedboat, a motorcycle, a furniture truck, I’ve flown an airplane in the sky, also drove another one along the ground, I’m trying to think of another mode of transport to get us north that I haven’t tried.”

She smiled and
helped him to stand and they leaned on the handrail of the bridge looking down into the canal when they saw the alligator tear a chunk from the body of the sergeant. Without speaking, they crossed to the other side of the street, and looked along the canal in the other direction. The sun sparkled off the water and had a soothing, hypnotic effect on Luke and he found himself calming and restoring faith in his own abilities. The leafy mangrove trees overhung the canal making a telescopic effect like looking up a tunnel.    

“I’ve got one,” said Sophie.

“Got one what?” Luke asked confused.

“Another mode of transport we haven’t tried.” She smiled and pointed down the river. He turned and saw a dray horse towing a brightly pai
nted, dilapidated old barge. “I’m not travelling by horse if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said dismissively.

“Not on the horse, you idiot – on the barge, its perfect.”

“Come again?”

“You said yourself that the canals and the
Intracoastal Waterway river network stretched all the way to Canada.”

“How does that help?” he asked still confused.

“We stay below deck, if anyone should do a cursory aerial view all they would see is a dumb old horse haplessly towing his dead master’s barge.”

“I’ve got a better idea, we’ll hide on the barge until we’ve cleared the exclusion zone then get help,” he smiled. “It’d be slow but we co
uld sneak right out of the zone.” He made his way down from the bridge onto the canal bank.

“That’s what I just said,” she said defensively as she followed
him.

“You said, ‘Canada,’” he reminded her, teasing.

“I didn’t mean go all the way to Canada. I merely mentioned the river went to Canada,” she said in her defense.

“You said, ‘Canada’.”

19:45 PM

“Have you ever heard so much crap in all your life?” Captain Phillips growled from the huddled confines of the brig he shared with the officers who had stayed loyal to him. They looked an odd sight still wearing their biohazards suits like spacemen in the cramped cell. He rocked his head in dismay. “Names spoken with awe?! Who’s swallowing this shit?”

The captain banged on the jail-bars attracting the attention of his armed guard, “Are you swallowing this baloney? He wants you to sacrifice your life; meanwhile he’s wearing a goddamned hazmat suit, so he’s not dying any time soon. He’s not making the ultimate sacrifice for his country.”

The guard ignored him, shifted his feet uncomfortably and thought there might be an element of truth in what the captain said. if Commander Roscoe wanted them all to die without attempting to make it to the mainland, then surely he too, should be making the same sacrifice and not wear his life-saving suit. He looked on the monitor screen at the commander and wondered for the first time if he had backed the right horse.

The captain knew people, that was his talent, not only could he lead men, but he could also read them and he was convinced that he had sowed the seeds of doubt in the young guards mind. “You owe it to yourself to at least try to live. Make it to the shore. Let us go and we’ll take you with us. Take a hazmat suit off one of them
at gunpoint. And who knows the virus might not have made it down to this deck yet?”

“You’re wasting your time,” the guard said unconvincingly. “I’m not listening to you.” He stood upright and stared at a spot on the wall in front of him.

The captain grinned and made a ‘got him’, gesture to his friends miming catching a fish and reeling it in on a line.

“Don’t take too long thinking about it, sailor. The sooner you’re in one of these life-saving suits the better,” the captain said, watching the guard’s face screw up in doubt.

20:05 PM

The row upon row of corpses littering the main deck shocked Commander Roscoe. He sucked in his breath then led his men in their hazmat suits down the rows of bodies covered in white shrouds. He approached the doctor and returned his salute. “How many, Doctor?” he asked.

The doctor shook his head wearily. “Over three hundred and -”

“Already?” cut in the commander. “How many were A.S.?”

“Assisted suicides?” the doctor said giving it its proper titled, not watering it down to abbreviations. “Probably half.”

The commander nodded, and felt encouraged. He turned and gave instructions to one of his subordinates. “OK we need to organize work parties to dispose of the bodies over the side.”

“We have another problem, Commander,” the doctor said.

“Go on?”

“We have more volunteers for the assisted suicide pills
than I have doses of the medicine.”

The commander gritted his teeth and swore under his breath. “OK, leave that with me.” He saluted and turned, the group of men followed, when they were back on the bridge the Commander said. “We’re going to have to scuttle the ship,” he told them with a bleak look on his face.

He watched them take in this information; they looked as if they’d been hit by a knockout punch, he saw the shock etched on their faces by this announcement. The cost implication alone of scuttling an aircraft carrier would be almost incalculable. The USS Thomas Jefferson was one of the most recent additions to the Atlantic fleet and no one knew the exact cost, somewhere between three and three and a half billion dollars.