The Shanxi Virus: An epidemic survival story Page 4

  Mike ignored him. His wallet and clothes weren't in the chair or nightstand by the bed. He looked around and spotted an open closet across the room from him. A plastic bag was suspended from a hanger, filled with what looked like his wallet and the shredded remains of his clothes. The bag was only eight feet away at the most.

  "What are you doing? Why do you want to leave so bad?" the old man asked.

  "Haven't you been watching the news? The Shanxi virus has spread across half the globe. Or do you have your head stuck up your ass like that doctor and think that the epidemic won't happen here?" Mike asked.

  The old man gave a sad little laugh. "I don't give a damn about the virus. The flu doesn't scare me." He lifted one of his rail thin arms up and pointed at his chest. "My ticket's already been punched. Inoperable lung cancer."

  "Sorry to hear that." Mike said. "But I've got to get out of here."

  The old man shook his head in disbelief. "What, do you have brass balls? Or just no brains? Have you looked at yourself in a mirror? You're in no shape to go anywhere."

  "You know what? I really don't feel need your crap right now," Mike said. The last thing he needed was guff from an opinionated old geezer like this one.

  "Suit yourself. Mind you, I agree that you're right to worry about the influenza epidemic. My great-grandfather died in the trenches during World War One from the Spanish flu. It's nothing to take lightly. But if you try to leave like that, well..."

  "I got it pops," Mike said shortly. "Thanks for your concern."

  The old man turned his head and looked out the window with pursed lips, his nose out of joint.

  All Mike really wanted was to get the hell out of there. He put some weight on his legs, testing their strength. His legs hadn't been injured except for some minor bruising and cuts along his left side. A stark contrast to his ribcage and his left hand. Damn. Why did it have to be his trigger finger? It felt like somebody up above had it out for south-paws.

  Confident that his legs were steady enough to make the walk down to a taxi stand, Mike stood up to go get the bag with his wallet and clothes from the closet.

  As soon as he stood up, the world began to spin wildly. It was as if he'd just chugged a pint of whiskey. He staggered forward, his arms stretched out before him as he tried to find anything to grab on to for support. Finding nothing, he took another step forward, but his feet got caught up on one another and he tripped. Flying forward, Mike slammed his head against the metal frame of the doorway. He felt more than heard the sickening thud, and then his field of vision went white. He had a distant sense of pain as he hit the floor.

  A pair of white women's shoes and then pair of shiny black men's dress shoes appeared in front of him. Somebody called his name, but he was too tired to answer. He decided to ignore them and rest for a while, and then closed his eyes and drifted off.

  Friday, June 5th

  Chapter 6

  Curled up on the couch in the living room of her parent's house, Jen watched the last of the movie credits roll by, wishing that the movie had been several hours longer. It wasn't that the movie had been all that great, it was just that the move was a distraction and she had been able to stop thinking about things for a while. Now she was out of movies and had already read all of the books in the house. There was nowhere else to escape, and she wished she was anywhere but here. Being home made it nearly impossible for her to avoid thinking about their reaction to her decision to drop out of med school. If she had any stomach for alcohol, she would have spent the past week intoxicated, but it just wasn't her thing.

  Her father had been furious. Her mother's silent disappointment was worse though. She couldn't get it out of her mind. They had been gone a week, and she still hadn't made up her mind what to do about medical school. Her parent's cruise was nearly over. They disembarked in Barcelona today, so she had to make a decision. She had two options, neither of which was particularly appealing.

  She could stay in med school and finish her degree, but that meant that she would have to drastically increase her dosage of OCD medication. She would have to in order to deal with the day to day tasks of a medical intern. Drawing blood, working with sick patients. A shiver ran through her at the thought of it. The OCD medicine had some severe side effects, and Jen was unlucky enough to experience nearly all of them.

  On the other hand, she could drop out. If she did, her father would probably disown her, and her mother might never speak to her again. She had no job and a mountain of medical school debt that her father could stick her with if she didn't cooperate with his plans for her to become a doctor. The loans were in her name after all. More importantly, as emotionally distant as they could be, they were still her parents, and she didn't want to lose them forever. She couldn't imagine living her life without them.

  "Oh fudge it," she said. There was really only one option. She knew she had to suck it up and endure the last year of medical school until she could graduate. Maybe then she could find a job in the medical field that wouldn't require her to work with sick people or bodily fluids. A research position maybe. She wondered if there was some aspect of the medical field that didn't deal with illness. Or humans.

  Jen resigned herself to her fates. She would stick with it and sign up for next year's dorm assignment later this afternoon. She would swallow her pride and see a therapist about her OCD, and then call her doctor and ask for an increase in her medication. Fighting back tears, she picked up her phone and dialed the doctor’s office. After she made it past the automated answering service, she waited for several minutes before she finally got a live person on the phone.

  "Doctors office. How can I help you?"

  "Hi, I'm a patient at your clinic, Jen Pruitt. When is the doctor's next available appointment? I need to see him about increasing my medication. Oh, and I also need to call in a refill. I ran out of pills a couple of weeks ago," Jen said. More like she'd stopped taking them and tossed the rest in the trash after the last day of school.

  "Let me check the computer. It looks like we have an opening in two weeks. That's a Wednesday at 9 am. Should I put you down for that one?"

  "Is there anything sooner? And if not, I don't really need to see the doctor in person really. Can you just call in a higher dose of my medicine?" Jen asked.

  "I'm afraid you have to see the doctor for something like that. It looks like you haven't been in the office for several months now. You'll need to come in before we can give you another refill."

  "But I'm out of my medication. Isn't there anything you can do?"

  "I can call in an emergency prescription to your pharmacy. It's only a weeks worth of your medication though, so we'll need to get you into the office soon. Can you come in next Thursday at four pm? The doctor always keeps one or two spots open a week for emergencies like this one."

  "Thursday at four is great. Thank you so much for your help," Jen said.

  After hanging up the phone, Jen grabbed her laptop from the coffee table and brought up her school's registration page on the internet. She logged in, and skimmed over the course descriptions and internship outlines, hoping to find some specialty or branch that did not involve sick people. There was the mandatory clinical foundations class at the beginning of the year, followed by clinical clerkships. Her skin crawled as she read over the clerkships. Surgery. Obstetrics. Family medicine. Each clerkship made her think of how terrifying the difficulties she would have to overcome. Bodily fluids. Germs. Viruses. Parasites. Sweat began to bead on her forehead. Wringing her hands, he felt an overwhelming urge to run to the bathroom and scrub them.

  "Ok, that's enough of that for today," she said, slamming the lid of her laptop closed.

  Jen was frustrated at herself for chickening out, but decided to tackle a smaller challenge first. The prescription would be ready at the pharmacy soon. While the OCD medication wouldn't take effect immediately, it would give her some satisfaction to know that she was doing the right thing and had committed to the course of action. She gra
bbed her car keys and purse and headed for the front door. Locking the house up, she glanced over at the neighbor's home, accidentally getting an eyeful of something she probably wasn't meant to see.

  Eva Preston, the woman who lived next door with her husband Rich, was reclined in a lounge chair next to the pool in her back yard. Dressed in a skimpy string bikini, her skin was uniformly tan and smooth. Her blonde hair shone in the sunlight, and her red lipstick was visible even from this distance. She was a stunning woman. Jen thought she remembered her mother saying the woman was in her mid-forties. Eva had the figure of a twenty-three-year-old, but carried herself with an elegant, knowing, seductiveness that only an older woman could possess. Sipping on a cocktail, Eva held her shapely leg up in the air, and pressed her foot against the pool boy's shirtless chest, massaging his muscular chest. Lance dropped his pool cleaning net and sank to one knee, running a hand up her leg.

  Jen sucked in a breath in surprise as she recognized the pool boy, or pool man rather. Lance Snyder was closer to her own age than Eva's. She'd gone to high school with him, he had graduated a year ahead of her. Jen suppressed a snicker and bit the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Eva had to be at least fifteen years older than he was. It was scandalous. Not to mention that she was married. She couldn't believe that the pair were so bold, blatantly touching each other like that in full view of the public. Then again, her father had mentioned that Eva's husband hadn't been home in several weeks. Not since he had bought a flat in the city. She looked away and shook her head, her cheeks burning. The less she knew the better. She had enough drama in her life as it was.

  Jen started the car and turned on the air conditioning, then turned on the radio as she put the car in reverse. An announcer came on the radio. It was the same news station she'd turned on while driving her parents to the airport in a feeble attempt to change the topic, she recognized the broadcaster's nasal tone.

  "Breaking news. For those of you who are driving - please people, focus on the road. This will be upsetting to many of you and may trigger an emotional response. We have confirmed a report that the Shanxi virus has spread to five European countries. Our sources say that there may be more, but those reports are unverified as of yet. Again, we have confirmation that the virus has spread to five European countries. The World Health Organization suspects that detection measure at airports may have failed in isolated incidents-- Hold on. We have more news incoming. I'm being told. Hold on."

  Jen stomped on the brakes, stopping the car with a sudden lurch. Her stomach a ball of nerves, she hung on the broadcaster's every word. Reaching for the bottle of hand sanitizer on the dash, she squirted several pumps into her hands.

  "The C.D.C. has issued a statement. I'm reading it live. The international flight ban on flights from Asian countries has been expanded to include all foreign countries. I repeat, the C.D.C. Is shutting down all international travel. In the statement, they reference Shanxi outbreaks in the same five countries we confirmed earlier. There are specific cities listed here. It looks like the outbreak is confined to Berlin. Prague. Vienna--"

  Jen drew a deep breath and let out a sigh. These cities were all in countries in the northeastern part of Europe. Her parent's cruise ship would be landing far from there. Barcelona was on the coast of Spain.

  "Madrid--"

  Heat washed over her face, and she froze with fear.

  "Barcelona."

  Jen's vision went fuzzy and dim. Her palms itched and began to sweat. Her ears rang. This couldn't be happening, she thought. Her parents cruise ship was about to land right in the middle of a hot zone.

  Still frozen with fear, she screamed inside of her mind at her unresponsive hands, willing them to move. Hand sanitizer dripping from her palms, she forced herself to pick up the phone and call her mother. Her hands slowly responded, and she tapped her mother's contact entry on her phone with a shaky finger.

  No answer. She tried again, but there was no answer. Frantic now, she tried her father's phone three times, each time with the same result.

  With international flights shut down, her parents would have no way to get home. They would be stuck in Barcelona, right where an outbreak of the Shanxi epidemic had been announced. She had to talk to them, but she couldn't even get them on the phone.

  Jen couldn't think, her mind frozen with fear for her parents. She put her car in park and removed the keys from the ignition. What should she do now, she wondered? She couldn't possibly go back to med school when her parents were about to land in the middle of an epidemic viral outbreak. She would have to stay here and try to get ahold of them. Tears rolled down her face as she called their cell phones again and again, desperately wishing they would pick up.

  Friday, June 12th

  Chapter 7

  Mike woke up in a panic. As he opened his eyes, a sense of deja vu hit him. Hadn't he already been here after the crash? He seemed to remember leaving the hospital. His left arm was still in a cast, and he reached up with his right feeling for the bump on his head. Still there, but nowhere near as painful as it had been.

  As he looked around at the room, everything started to come back to him. The dizzy spell when he had stood up and tried to leave, the fall and hitting his head. How much time has passed, he wondered. He was thirstier than he could ever remember being. The need for water was compelling. Mike sat up in the bed and looked around for a water bottle or glass.

  "We meet again Mr. Dunham. Or can I call you Mike?" the old man in the bed across the room asked.

  "What? Who are you? How long was I out for?"

  "I'm Aaron Bauer. I've been looking at your ugly mug for two weeks now, although you probably don't remember any of it. You were here for a week after the crash before you woke up the first time. Then you tried to bail out of here and gave yourself another concussion. Seven more days. Are you always this accident prone?"

  "I've been here two weeks?" Mike asked.

  "That's what I'm telling you. And a fun two weeks it has been, let me tell you. At least you weren't hooked up to that ventilator the whole time. Do you know how much noise that thing made? I couldn't sleep with--"

  "Hold on a minute," Mike said. Searching the bed, he felt around for the television remote and powered on the television set. A news station was on, and he turned up the volume.

  "Canada has followed suit and shut down all border crossings. On the domestic front, four northwestern states are the only to remain largely untouched by the virus; Idaho, Wyoming, North and South Dakota. Hardest hit areas remain the entire eastern seaboard and southern states. President Stokes has declared a national emergency, and the Secretary of Defense has ordered all able bodied former and retired military to active duty. Our coverage of this crisis continues as--"

  Mike flipped the channel to a different station, where live coverage from cities played across the screen from a drone mounted camera. The banner on the bottom of the screen gave the location as Atlanta Georgia. The drone passed through the city streets, which looked as though a third world war had ravaged the area.

  "Looting remains widespread, even though National Guard troops and police have orders to shoot looters on sight. As you can see, bodies of the dead are lying everywhere in the streets, left unburied. This is a tragedy unlike any other in our nation's history." The camera switched to the announcer, who cleared his throat, dabbing at the tears welling up in his eyes. "Next we'll take a look at--"

  It felt like he'd been kicked in the gut by a mule. Those are American cities on the news!

  "Damn," Mike said. "How did it get here so quickly? A week ago it was nowhere near the U.S."

  "Well, there's the story that you'll hear on the news, and then there's the story you'll get from reading between the lines. My take? The government was afraid to shut down international travel and trade from Europe. Pressure from Wall Street if you ask me. Those bigwigs are more concerned with profits than people.

  "Anyway, a couple of infected passengers made it through the screening process a
t the airport. A few days later their family, friends, and coworkers were infected and after that, it was all over, there was no containing the virus."

  "The C.D.C. said that the Shanxi virus has a long incubation period, and that's how those people made it through the airport screening. Some people don't show any symptoms until a full seven days after infection. By the time they shut down flights from Europe, it was too little, too late. The virus had gotten a foothold. The big cities on the east coast with international airports like New York City, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C. were hit first," Aaron said.

  "Damn. They should never have allowed those flights to continue," Mike said.

  Aaron scratched his chin, shaking his head. "It wouldn't have made a difference. By the time they did that, refugees were pouring across our southern border, some of them carrying the virus with them. Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, Florida; all of the southern states have been hit. They say there are less than a million people alive in Mexico City. That's one in eight people left alive, and the virus hasn't even finished running it's course," Aaron said.

  Mike shook his head in disbelief. It was all so surreal. It was one thing to read about it happening in a country on the other side of the globe, but this was here. It was in the United States. He had an overwhelming urge to get up and run out of the hospital.

  Mike sat up and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. A wave of dizziness hit him right away. "I've got to get out of here. Like right now."

  "You're in no shape to leave by yourself. Don't you remember what happened the last time you tried to bolt out of here? Why don't you sit down and use that phone over there to call your friends or family to come pick you up?"

  "I don't have any family left, and I don't have any damned friends either," Mike said.

  "What? I can't believe that. There's got to be--"