Independence Day Plague (6 page)

“
Well, I’d like permission to reopen one of the med labs and take a throat culture from my daughter. At least then we’ll know if we need to pass out antibiotics to people or not.”

“
Fine,” Stegan spat the word out. “For now, everyone go back to your homes and relax.”

As he joined the others filing out of the small auditorium, Mitchell felt a gentle tapping on his arm. Silently, Geller gestured to the coffee room around the side of the administration offices. Stegan’s office was on the other side of a common wall. When they entered, they could hear his baritone voice raised in a muffled conversation.

Geller was one of the five medical doctors on the base as well as being a PhD in genetics. He sat on the edge of the table and lit a cigarette. Mitchell grinned and gestured at the “no smoking” sign behind Geller’s head. “I didn’t think anyone smoked any more. Most folks consider that stuff contraband now.”

Geller shrugged and replied, “I get a carton mailed into Dawson City once in a while.” He looked over his shoulder and chuckled too. “Not much point to rules now,” he said quietly. “It’s a stress habit from graduate school. I’d start smoking before finals and quit right afterwards.”

“
Graduate school was a long time ago,” Mitchell replied.

“
Now it’s before and after major inspections and when shit like this happens.” He gestured towards Stegan’s voice. “I was up to a pack a day when you were infected and we were waiting to see if you’d live or die.”

“
They didn’t lock the gates then?” Mitchell asked. He remembered very little about his brush with biological death five years prior.

Geller looked grave and shook his head. “We didn’t notify anyone or follow contamination procedure. We didn’t want the brass here. We were afraid of them shutting us down then. Stegan thought we had it contained since we isolated you right away. If you had died, well, it would have been a different matter then.”

Mitchell nodded and then drew in a long breath. “Do you really think that…?”

“
That we’ve been poisoned?” Geller shrugged and took another puff. “Not as such, no. If it had been a poison, none of us would ever have woke up. Contaminated? Now that’s a different idea all together.” He sat silent, blowing out puffs of smoke as he thought. Mitchell knew from long years of working together that Geller never said anything off the cuff. He thoroughly considered each word before he spoke. Finally, Geller continued in a low voice. “Have you received any information about your new life? Any new names or even a location?”

Mitchell shook his head. “They gave us options and the preference sheet to fill out but everyone got those.”

“
Me neither. Yet here we are, two days or less from departure, less for some and we don’t even know where we are going. Some are scheduled to leave today and yet no one I asked has gotten their future assignments. Doesn’t that strike you as odd? I don’t think they ever intended to move us on.”

“
No, that can’t be right, Ray. Why all this charade and the big party last night?”

“
To avoid panic? To keep us feeling secure? I don’t know. But consider this, none of us, not even our kids really exist anymore. We stopped living to the outside world the moment we first crossed the gates for this project. We research, but don’t publish. We rarely travel. We’re allowed to go to conferences only with an undercover escort. Even if the base shut down tomorrow, it would be weeks, if not months, before Dawson City would know the
‘Army Satellite Station’
was gone. None of them would care enough to investigate.”

“
You’re wrong. What about bank accounts, credit cards, food cards, social security numbers, driver’s license and all those bits of paper identity we have to have for society? They don’t just disappear.”

“
When did you last apply or update any of those?”

Mitchell shrugged, “I didn’t have to. We bank through the military credit union. I think everyone does. The military also took care of the yearly paperwork. That way our work wouldn’t be interrupted.”

Geller smiled sadly, “Yes, the great work. It was convenient for them to constantly renew our paperwork for us. It helped them keep us hidden.”

Mitchell snorted, “Ray, I know the military isn’t your favorite subject but don’t you think you’re being overdramatic here?”

“
When was the last time you checked your credit rating?”

Mitchell shrugged. Caroline took care of those things.

Geller pulled a small folded paper out of his pocket. The printout was from an Internet credit service. The names and social security numbers of all of Geller’s family ran down the page. The bold-faced wording stood out against each name, “unknown person, number inactive or not assigned.”

Mitchell stared at the sheet. “Those numbers are assigned at birth.”

“
Yes,” Geller replied, “and despite what it says, I have cards, records, proof that each of those numbers are valid codes.”

Mitchell handed the paper back. “I’m sure it’s a screw-up in the records because of the new identities.”

“
Really? Like most people on an isolated base becoming sick at almost the exact same time?”

“
When did you check the numbers?”

“
Two days ago. I wanted to know how much we’d get for a loan on a new house."

“
But our bank accounts are still good?”

“
Mine was as of yesterday. I haven't checked today. But, think, Jim. All of the official records link to social security numbers. All those processes of school records, driver’s license, food cards—all of them go through the government in some way or link to government numbers. That’s why we’ve assumed the move would be so easy. The numbers stay the same but the government somehow changes the names on the accounts. Something's happening here, something dangerous. If you get the chance to leave, pack up Katie and Caroline and go. Don’t worry about your house or your belongings. Don’t notify anyone. Don’t hesitate one minute to walk out that gate once it’s open. If everything’s okay, the government paperwork can catch up with you once you’re surrounded by people. Keep going until you find a city big enough to get lost in. It may very well be your last chance.”

Noon came and went. The base stayed silent and locked down. The cessation of sound weighed heavily on the entire block around Mitchell’s house. No kids sloshed through the mud or yelled in play. No phones rang or family members chatted while walking the lanes. Everyone hid behind locked doors and shuttered windows.

Katie and Caroline moved slowly, complaining of aches while finishing the last of the packing. Feeling claustrophobic among all the boxes, Mitchell walked the base streets with no particular direction in mind. No traffic moved anywhere on the base. The inactivity of the afternoon left him feeling depressed. The small base communicator chimed in his pocket, making him jump. Feeling foolish, he took the comma-shaped device and plugged it into his ear.

Geller spoke without preamble. “Come to the front gate.” He hung up without waiting for a reply.

Mitchell turned and retraced his steps through the neighborhood. The cold crisp air warmed up to the high forties and the sky was deep blue without a cloud in sight. The nightly occurring ice had thawed, already leaving muddy water behind. Mitchell dropped his overcoat at the house before setting out on the short walk to the gate.

A small crowd of twelve people had gathered near the ten-foot mesh, many of them dressed in heavy coats for an arctic blast rather than a spring thaw. Mitchell noted two or three faces looking flushed more than normal. Four base electric cars sat parked along one side of the road. The brown hills beyond the gate looked colored with the fuzz of new green grass that would carpet the land in another month. There was not a car, farmhouse, or even barn in sight beyond the fence, just rolling hills and the occasional lone tree.

Mitchell sidled up to Geller. When he faced the man, he couldn’t help but notice the flushed skin. “What’s up?’

“
Tyler traced the electric fence lines back to the cut-off inside the base. They turned it off about ten minutes ago. We’re going to try to open the gate now.”

Stegan and Barnes stood in front of the gate, the crowd forming a horseshoe around him. Stegan gestured towards the fence, “Okay, Tyler, forget the lock and chain. Let’s just cut a damn hole big enough for a car and worry about the rest later.”

Dressed in the army camouflage, Barnes brown skin glistened with sweat in the cool breeze. Laser tool in hand, he applied the thin bright light to cutting the fence links. By the third link, his head jerked backwards, exploding in crimson. One of the women started screaming. Blood and bits of gray matter had sprayed across her face. Barnes sprawled face up in the mud, and a growing puddle of blood spread quickly from what was left of his forehead.

“
What the hell!” Stegan stepped to the gate, scanning the horizon. The next bullet caught him in the chest, spinning him around as the second one exploded out his right side.

Screams filled the air as people ran for cover. More bullets silently peppered the street area, chipping up bits of concrete. Two more people dropped, chunks of tissue and blood splattering from their backs.

Mitchell ran for cover around the edge of the security building. When the silence reigned again, after a few moments, he risked peering around the corner. Five people littered the ground, while others behind cars or running in panic down the side streets. Moments passed after the initial barrage stopped. He listened intently but nothing moved beyond the gates. After what felt like an eternity, he stood up with hands raised, palms forward. He tensed, waiting for the bullet but heard only silence. He slowly walked back to the people on the ground, hands still in the air. He heard frightened footsteps behind him as others ran from their sanctuaries to the buildings beyond.

Mitchell stayed on the side of the bodies farthest from the gates. He crouched down, checking each person one handed. Neat little holes in the front belied the vast amount of blood flowing out of the back. When Mitchell checked Stegan, he then understood why they were all dead. The wound from an abdominal shot had blown out most of his spinal cord on exit. Rising slowly again, with hands up. He walked back to the cars and the people crouched there. “It's over. Don’t go near the gate and you’ll be safe.”

Geller rose. “That was really stupid. You could have been shot.”

Mitchell shook his head. “We’ve been here for several minutes. They only started shooting when we tried to break through the fence.”

Geller leaned his back against the wall, letting out a long breath. “We’re not leaving here anytime soon. We need another meeting. This time don’t use phones or the com-units, word-of-mouth only. Have them come to the auditorium by four.”

Lacy Cole clutched her white tweed coat tightly around her dark brown neck. “What about the bodies?”

Mitchell replied, “We’ll take care of them later. Right now, just stay away from the fence.”

The second meeting completely filled the auditorium with grim men and women. Occasional ragged coughs echoed frequently through the hall. Mitchell sat by Sarah Mendoza. Her eyes looked puffy. Her hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail, lacked its normally elegant styling.

“
How’s John?” he asked quietly.

She smiled weakly, new tears threatening to overflow. “He’s got a low fever now and gets dizzy every time he stands up. I’m making the kids stay away from him just… you know, just in case. What about Caroline?”

“
She has a migraine. Katie’s ill too. They both went back to bed.”

She nodded and sniffed. “We’re in real trouble.”

Mitchell didn’t reply.

Geller sat on the edge of the stage, feet dangling next to Captain Marcus Phelps, an expert bacteriologist and second-in-command of the base.

Mitchell rubbed his eyes. The Maryland house filled with deep reds and oranges brought on by the setting sun. The computer timer had just ticked past two hours on the recorder program. He hit “pause” on the screen and poured himself a new rum and Caf. The liquid sloshed shakily around the glass as he picked it up. The memories came, pouring out like anima, like blood flowing from an open wound. It left him weak and blind through the tears. He sat down and clicked the record button.

“
Geller talked for over an hour that afternoon about contingencies and medical supplies. He called for a vote on whether to move the sick into a central area like the gym but most people chose to stay in their homes. The provisions at the PX and Commissary were opened up and people took anything they needed.”

“
By the second day, we knew the military would be back. They cut the power, you see. The electronic umbilical cord should have kept us from freezing in those below thirty-degree nights. We had generator fuel for emergencies that would last at best ten days before it ran out. They cut the power on April 10
^th
but by then many already lay dying. The cryo-units had to be picked up within two weeks of the power being cut off or the product would die.”

“
We worried about the containment chambers. Yep, we panicked about losing containment on all those vials of death. But Ray worked it out. He reasoned by the tenth day to fifteenth day, the military would come back and get the product. By then, no one could stop them.”