The Shanxi Virus: An epidemic survival story Read online

"Nobody gives a crap about me old man."

  "What about that big ape of a man and his mother that came to visit and brought you those flowers? They aren't your friends?"

  He glanced over at the nightstand next to his bed where Aaron was pointing, and removed the small get well card rubber banded to the vase of flowers.

  Mike, hope you get well soon. Ted and Sherri McCormick.

  "How in the hell did they even know I was in the hospital? I don't know these people, well, they're kind of neighbors of mine, but I don't really talk to them. Ted talks to me, but I don't really like him at all," Mike said. Why would Ted and his mother bring him flowers? Every time Mike saw Ted he tried to brush him off. Ever since the homes in Oak Park had popped up he'd tried to avoid socializing with the sheeple.

  "Well maybe you should start talking to him, because the way I understand it, that big hairy oaf saved your life."

  "What? No, that's not--"

  "According to Ted's mother, he heard the accident and came running to see what happened. He found you laying in the middle of the highway. Apparently there's a blind corner, and somebody could have just come along and run over you if he wouldn't have pulled you off to the side of the road."

  He was surprised to hear Ted had basically rescued him, but it didn't change anything. He had to get out of the hospital and get home. "Look, that's nice and all, but if the virus has made it to the East Coast, then it's only a matter of time before it gets here. I need to get--"

  "Listen. I was trying break it to you slowly since you just woke up for the first time in a week, but you need to hear me out. Now don't go running off, just sit down and listen to me for a--"

  A young nurse burst through the door and slammed it shut behind her. She stripped off her facemask and her latex gloves, and then tore off the clear plastic goggles covering her eyes. Her eyes had deep circles underneath them. She looked exhausted, as if she'd been on her feet for a few days. Sinking down to the floor, she curled up into the fetal position and began to sob.

  "Are you all right?" Aaron asked.

  The nurse dried her tears on her sleeve and looked up at them. Her eyes seemed to plead for understanding or forgiveness. "I can't do it anymore. I can't go back out there."

  Mike glanced over at Aaron questioningly.

  "I was trying to break it to you slowly. You seemed pretty jumpy about the virus last time you were awake. What I'm trying to tell you--"

  "Jumpy? Of course he's jumpy. You'd have to be stupid not to be jumpy," the young nurse blurted out. "We lost two doctors today, and four nurses have died in the past two days. They were my friends... I'm scared out of my mind! What if I catch it and bring it home to my baby?"

  "Here?" Mike's skin crawled. "It's here?"

  "St. Louis has been quarantined. The hospital is treating a number of people with the virus," Aaron said. "Not that they can do much of anything for them."

  "It's true. None of the antiviral drugs help. And if we give them something to ease their pain, it suppresses their respiratory system and causes more problems. There is nothing we can do. I don't even know why I'm here anymore." The nurse started to sob again. "It's a terrible way to die. Their chest fills up with fluid, and they cough, but can't keep up with the amount of fluid the body produces. They keep coughing and coughing, and their airways become inflamed and bleed. They cough until they can't breathe any longer, and then they suffocate on their own fluids."

  "Dear God," Mike whispered.

  The nurse took a bottle of pills out of her pocket, and shook a few small white pills into her palm. Swallowing them without any water, she stuffed the pills back in her pocket and smoothed out her uniform. She got to her feet, dried her eyes, and regained her composure. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have troubled you with this. Just stay in your room. That is the best thing you can do for now."

  Mike watched the nurse leave the room, shocked that the woman would still show up to her job with so much at stake. She had a baby, and yet she risked her life to come in, even though there was little to nothing she could do for the infected patients.

  Aaron cleared his throat and sat up in bed. "That's what I was trying to tell you. It's here and it's bad. Real bad. Seventy percent of people that get infected die. Seventy percent!"

  Mike slowly pulled the IV from his arm, and used a piece of medical tape from the tubing as a bandage to stop the bleeding. His head began to spin, and his vision went blurry. He was weak. Even if he stood up he couldn't make it down the hall by himself. And if he got out of the hospital, where would he go? If things were as bad as the nurse and Aaron had made them out to be, he doubted he would be able to find a taxi. He was trapped in a hospital with the infected.

  "I know that look in your eyes. That's fear. It's all going to end kiddo, nothing you can do about it," Aaron said.

  Mike glanced over, annoyed and confused as to what the old man was babbling about. "What?"

  "You're afraid of dying. I used to fear death. Until I got lung cancer that is. I got to stare into the abyss, as they say. I've got a zero percent chance to live, and you do you want to know the weird thing about it? I've never felt more free in my life," Aaron said, an odd smile on his face.

  "That's great, but what has that got to do with me?"

  "All I'm trying to tell you is that there isn't any point in running around fearing death. If it's time for your ticket to get punched, then--"

  A body slammed against the window to the hallway. A balding middle-aged man had his face pressed up against the glass, the mask covering his mouth soaked red with blood. His hands went out and pressed against the glass as he held himself up and tried to stand, but he slumped against the window and began to slide downward.

  The man gave a deep guttural cough that sounded like it belonged to a behemoth, not a human. When the coughing fit stopped, the man's mouth flew open and he began to desperately gasp for air. He ripped off his facemask, and coughed, spraying blood against the outside of the window. As the coughing fit subsided, the man's face slid down out of view, his hands smearing lines through the blood on the window.

  Panic set in. Mike's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. Not six feet away from him, separated by only a thin windowpane of glass, the Shanxi flu waited, ready to punch his ticket.

  Friday, June 12th

  Chapter 8

  Jen stood at the kitchen sink, vigorously scrubbing her soapy hands with a hard bristled brush under the piping hot water. Through the window, she watched the scandalous events unfolding two houses down from her parent's home, unable to tear her eyes away. In the Preston's back yard, Lance walked around edge of the pool with a skimmer, his shirtless muscular torso glistening with sweat. Mrs. Preston sat in her lounge chair, sipping a cocktail, watching his every move. Mrs. Preston set her cocktail down and stood up from her chair. She said something to him and cut through Jen's back yard to the empty home next door, entering through the sliding glass door in the rear. Lance dropped the pool skimmer and followed her into the house.

  Jen's face flushed, embarrassed at their display. Lance had been staying at the empty home next door since she'd come home from school, and the pair had become bolder as time went on. The lewd distraction gone, her thoughts turned back to her parents. Where were they? And what had happened to them? It had been a week and she still hadn't heard from them. They were supposed to have landed in Barcelona a week ago, right in the middle of a hot zone. She had no idea if they were dead or alive, and she felt tremendously guilty over the way they had parted.

  Pain shot through her hands all of a sudden. Lost in thought, she had begun to scrub her hands too hard with the hard bristled brush. Her already irritated skin cracked open at the sensitive membrane between her thumb and pointer finger, leaving behind a deep open cut. She jerked her hand out of the hot water and pinched the wound together to stop the bleeding, chiding herself for being so careless. Her stomach knotting up at the sight of her own blood, which usually didn't bother her, it was only the sight of
other people's blood that disturbed her. She realized her condition was getting out of control.

  Her cell phone rang, startling her. Drying her hands off on a kitchen towel, she snatched the phone up, praying that it would her parents on the other end. "Hello?"

  "Jennifer?" her father asked. "Ellen, it's Jennifer. I got through."

  All of the tension went out of her body at once, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Dad!"

  "Jennifer, I'm terribly sorry we couldn't call you sooner. I know you must have been worried about us," her father said.

  "What happened? Why haven't you called? I've been trying to reach you."

  "We were stuck on the cruise ship. A bad stomach bug ran through the ship. Norovirus. Nearly everyone caught it. When people started getting sick, the captain cut off the cell repeater and ships communications systems because he though people were coming down with the Shanxi influenza. He assumed, probably rightly, that passengers would make phone calls to the police and claim they were being held against their will, to try to force the ship to dock. He kept us out at sea for an extra week. He thought he was preventing the spread of the disease. Nobody died, and it soon became apparent that it was norovirus, not the Shanxi flu. The captain then tried to land, but by that time no ports would let us land since the cruise originated out of Barcelona. We were forced to land in Barcelona. I'm sure you've heard the news that there is an outbreak of the virus here."

  "I did. I've been worried sick about you. Are you safe?" Jen asked.

  In the background, Jen heard her mother whisper to her father. "Just tell her we're ok. Don't tell her how bad it is here."

  "We are staying in a hotel room in the outskirts of the city. We are safe so far. Once we got off the boat we came straight to the hotel. The outbreak is mostly contained to a quarantine zone from what I understand. We have food and water. I paid a bellboy to fetch a few days worth of groceries from the local market. We're going to stay inside until this is over. How are you?"

  "I'm fine. I stayed at your house instead of going back to school. I hope that's ok with--"

  "That is fine. Under the circumstances, I wouldn't expect you to do anything different. We can talk about medical school later. Jennifer... I wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you. I know I can come across as too harsh sometimes, but I just want what is best for you," her father said.

  Jen was taken aback. He'd never apologized for anything before. Ever.

  She heard shouting in the background of the call, and her mother whispered urgently to her father, but she couldn't make out what she said.

  "Listen Jennifer, I have to go. We love you. Don't worry about us, we'll--"

  With a soft click, the line went dead.

  "Dad?" The relief she'd felt earlier dissipated. Why had the line dropped? What was her mother whispering about? She wondered what was really going on there.

  She tried to call his cell back, but he didn't pick up. Her father wasn't telling her something, and she began to imagine many terrifying scenarios.

  The doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts.

  Jen ran to the front door, tiptoeing for the last few feet, and put her eye up to the peephole. A middle-aged woman with curly brown hair, her clothes a little hippie-ish, stood a few feet away from her door, holding a stick in her hand. When Jen didn't answer, the woman rang the doorbell again, pushing at the button with the stick.

  "Hello? Who are you? What do you want?" Jen called through the door.

  "Robin Greene. I live a few houses down. Are you the Pruitt's daughter Jennifer? Are they home?"

  Jen opened the door a crack. "I'm their daughter. My name is Jen though. I don't go by Jennifer. My parents aren't here--" Her throat seized up on her, and the tears she had been holding back ran freely down her cheeks.

  "Is everything all right?" Robin asked gently.

  "Yes... No... I'm sorry. My parents are in Barcelona. I... I just found out." Jen sank down and sat in the doorway.

  "Oh, I'm so sorry dear. I'd give you a great big hug, but I'm going to keep my distance. It's why I came over, to talk to you about the virus and what the neighborhood can do about it. Do you want to talk about what happened to your parents?"

  "No. I'd rather not. What do you mean you want to talk about the virus and the neighborhood? Did somebody get sick?"

  "No, thank goodness. We've been lucky, at least so far. I don't know if your parents have mentioned me before, but my husband Bert and I live a few houses down. Bert is an electrical engineer, and I'm a stay at home mother, but I used to do foreign aid work for a charity organization in Africa. I've seen some epidemics first hand in third world countries, so I know how bad things can get.

  "I don't know how much you've been paying attention to the news, but there are outbreaks in many cities across the country, including St. Louis. I don't know if the C.D.C. will be able to keep it contained there, but we aren't all that far away. All it would take to have it spread here is one person driving to work, catching the disease, and bringing it home with them.

  "I'm asking everyone in the neighborhood to stay put until this is over. If we stay inside and don't leave our homes, we should be fine. Don't go out of the neighborhood unless it is a life or death situation for the new few weeks, and don't let anyone in your house. We can isolate ourselves from the city until the virus has run its course. It's not like there is much of anything to go and do anyway. Everything is closed up. There aren't even any stores or gas stations open. People are scared and not going in to work.

  "Aside from that, there are some other things I wanted to pass on to help keep our neighborhood safe. Since the trash man stopped coming around, I've set up burn barrels in the empty lot at the end of the cul-de-sac. Put your trash in the barrel and burn it. Your dad should have a container of gas for the lawn mower in the garage you can use to start the fire. If we let the trash pile up, we risk spreading other diseases.

  "Last, and most important thing... don't touch anything you don't have to with your hands. That means especially your face. Make sure you wash--"

  "I've got that part covered. I know about infectious disease control and prevention protocols. I'm a third-year med student," Jen said.

  "Really? Wow. I didn't know we had a medical professional in the neighborhood. That is really good to know. You can be a lot of help if someone gets sick or injured. Nobody wants to go to the hospitals right now, with all of the Shanxi cases filling up hospital beds. My little girl Kelly had a sinus infection last week. I made her tough it out because I was afraid to take her into the clinic. Poor thing, her nose was dripping so bad she used up all of the tissues in the house. If I had known, I could have brought her over and let you check her out," Robin said.

  Jen's skin crawled. "I'm not sure I'd be very good at helping out with that kind of thing."

  Robin looked at her strangely. "OK, well, it was just an idea. You should think about it. You could do a lot of good with your knowledge. You're the closest thing to a doctor this neighborhood has right now. If you need anything, just give me a call. Here's my cell number."

  Jen plugged Robin's cell phone number into her contacts, then stood up and moved back inside the doorway. "I will. Thanks for sharing the other stuff with me. I don't plan on going anywhere. I'll be here until my parents can come home."

  "OK. Take care then." Robin waved and then walked up the street towards the next house.

  Jen shut the door and leaned against the wall next to the door. Exhausted after a full week of little sleep and too much stress, she badly needed rest. She hadn't been able to drift off for more than a couple of hours at a time, worried that her parents would call and she wouldn't wake up to answer it. She pushed herself off of the wall and lay down on the couch in the living room, flipping through television channels, halfheartedly trying to find something to watch.

  Robin had given her a lot to think about, but she couldn't deal with it right now. Out of medicine, and tired beyond belief, she needed sleep before she could focus
on anything else. She almost wished that her father hadn't called. It left her with more questions than before. Why had the line gone dead?

  Friday, June 12th

  Chapter 9

  Mike's blood ran cold at the sight of the infected man collapsing in the hallway outside, fingers smearing trails through the blood on the window as he fell to the floor. The shit had really hit the fan now. It was right here in front of him. His cheeks flushed with anger, and he uttered a silent curse against whoever hit his truck that morning and put him in this situation. He should have been in the Middle of Colorado right now, not in the middle of a hot zone.

  That plan was out the window now. Even if he had a vehicle he wouldn't be able to get to Colorado without potentially exposing himself to the virus. It was too late to bug out now, and even if he wanted to. Two weeks of laying in a hospital bed on just an IV drip and no food had left his body weak. The concussion still affected his balance and vision. He needed to get home. Right now. He had guns, ammo, food, water, and shelter, and he had the home field advantage. It wasn't Colorado, but it was a damn sight better than sitting in a hospital bed at ground zero.

  Mike pressed his feet against the floor, clinging to the bed for support as he tried to get up. His head started spinning the minute his rear left the hospital bed, and he flopped back down. "Damn!"

  "Really? You're trying to get up and get out of here by yourself again? You're something else," Aaron said. "You haven't even had the sense to try to get some food into yourself. You're going to fall and crack your skull open. That would be some way to bite the dust in the middle of an epidemic."

  "Well on the bright side, if I crack my skull open and die, at least I'll be immune to the virus."

  Aaron rolled his eyes, and then he cackled, "You're sick Mike. I like your sense of humor. Why do you have such a big problem asking people for help? You can't get ahold of your friends, well, OK. I'm here. I can help you if you want, if you can give me a place to stay and feed me. Trust me, I don't eat much."