Influenza: Viral Virulence (6 page)

By the time he got back to their apartment, Brian had managed to finally drag himself out of bed and was keeping down the first food of the day…dinner.

“I’m glad my birthday only comes once a year. I don’t think I’d survive more than that,” he groaned. “I heard you got yourself into a little trouble last night. Sorry I wasn’t able to be much help.”

“It worked out all right,” Michael said. “Besides, you don’t have to be my guardian angel all the time.”

“The last thing I remember is seeing the drain hole in the bathroom sink.”

Both Michael and Scott laughed out loud. Despite not feeling well, Brian smiled at his own admission.

“What’s going on in Asia?” Michael suddenly asked. “Lorie told me that something bad is happening over there.”

“Lorie?” Brian asked. “You hung out with your girlfriend today? I thought you were out studying.”

Ignoring Brian, Scott answered Michael’s question. “It’s all over the news. The flu has hit the area hard. There have been a lot of deaths, more than the normal flu season. According to the news, the onset is a lot quicker. Just a couple of hours after being exposed to the flu, people are starting to show symptoms and are contagious. Then, most of the sick people are dying within twenty-four hours from complications like respiratory problems.”

Michael was aghast. “You are kidding me, right?”

Scott shook his head.

“The flu comes around every year. It doesn’t kill people like that. Maybe the very young and very old are susceptible, but most healthy people with normal immune systems fight it off. Are they sure it’s the flu and not Ebola or something?” Michael asked.

“The World Health Organization says it’s the flu,” Scott answered. “As soon as people started filling up the emergency rooms and dying, the WHO sent some people in. The so-called experts verified that it is the influenza virus. Now the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta are telling the public, besides the standard ‘don’t panic’ and ‘we have everything under control,’ that everyone should go and get their flu vaccine.”

“Wilbur’s going to be happy to hear that!”

“Yeah, all the pharmacies are getting slammed with people who waited until the last minute to get vaccinated. The news reporter said the CDC is doing more tests on the virus and to expect the results in the next twenty-four hours. They have had hundreds of cases pop up in California already.”

“Wonderful,” Brian said.

Scott piped up, “Remember back when we took that Infectious Disease class? One year, I think it was 1918, the Spanish flu killed a lot of people. Most of the people it killed were between twenty and forty years of age. Not the typical flu strain. They didn’t know much about viruses back then, but we now know the Spanish flu was just the regular flu virus that had mutated.”

“Have you guys gotten the flu shot yet?” Michael asked them.

They both shook their heads.

“Have you?” Brian asked.

“No, although Wilbur offered to give me one for free yesterday. I just didn’t feel like it. I was too wiped out from working, and I simply wanted to get out.”

“You should see the internet,” Scott added. “It’s gone viral with this flu stuff. No pun intended. Not only are news agencies calling this a pandemic, but people are also blogging crazy ideas like government conspiracy, terrorist attack, or an accident at a lab as being responsible. My personal favorite is that this is just the beginning of an alien takeover.”

“You can find anything on the internet. Crazy people with even crazier ideas.”

Now seeded in major cities across the United States (thanks to rapid airline travel), the virulent influenza strain was more than content to be passed along easily in the human-rich environment. A simple cough or sneeze could allow it to spread in an instant over many victims in a crowd. Like an invading horde, the virus spread like wildfire in heavily populated areas, and then it started to reach out into less densely inhabited areas as people carried the virus with them. In less than a day, the influenza virus was starting to invade the outlying areas, leaving destruction and chaos in its wake.

Chapter 6

Sunday morning, Michael
got out of bed early and went directly to his little wooden desk in the bedroom. It was an overcast day, so the outdoors didn’t beckon him like it had the previous day. With renewed determination, he cracked open his books and finally got a few good hours of studying in. He emerged briefly from the seclusion of his bedroom to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Both Brian and Scott were already up, and Brian looked a lot better than the day before. Respecting Michael’s desire to study, they both left him alone. A little after noon, he took a break for lunch, and then retired once more to his study desk. At roughly one o’clock, he heard the television blare the all-too-familiar music for the upcoming football game.

Closing his book, Michael joined his friends out in the living room. Scott’s favorite team from Los Angeles was playing Dallas. Michael settled into an empty space on the couch and grabbed a handful of chips from the large bowl sitting on the coffee table.

When the announcer read off the starting lineup for the Los Angeles team, Scott cried out, “What? Where is Mark Ariello? And who is this rookie playing wide receiver?” Ariello was the famous quarterback who had propelled the Los Angeles team to the front of their league with both his extraordinary passing completion rate and his uncanny ability to scramble out of the pocket.

As if hearing Scott’s complaints, the announcer mentioned that because some of the players were sick, other players on the second string had been given the opportunity to fill in. After the game started, the Los Angeles team proceeded to lose, and lose badly. It was such a blowout that Scott screamed in frustration and threatened more than once to break the television.

“This is horrible!” he cried. Just then, the Los Angeles running back fumbled the ball; Dallas recovered it and then ran it in for a touchdown. “Arghhhh!”

Scott was so upset that he ended up changing the channel to some other game in New England.

“I can’t believe that you actually root for Los Angeles,” Brian chided Scott. “What about our own Pittsburgh home team?”

“Yeah, I want them to win too. What’s wrong with having two favorite teams? But you do know that Ariello graduated from Penn State, right?” he replied, defending himself.

Not really interested in the New England game, Michael decided it would be a good time to get some more studying done. He grabbed a soda from the refrigerator for the caffeine and disappeared into his room once again. Outside, the foreboding gray skies had darkened, and a light drizzle was pattering on his bedroom window pane.

Sitting down at his desk with his textbook lying open in front of him, Michael thought about the recent news and the status of the Los Angeles football team, with players unable to play due to illness. There was too much coincidence to be ignored. Was the flu as devastating this year as everyone was saying? Maybe he should finally give his parents a call. He was sure they were following the news closely. They always did. Besides, his call was way overdue. He tried to avoid calling them because they were always prying into his life and making suggestions about what he should do. Nothing he did seemed to be good enough for them and he usually got upset when they talked. Why couldn’t they just let him be who he wanted to be?

Promising himself to give them a ring later, he got back to memorizing his notes. He managed to cover most of his study material, and he had a good feeling that he was as well prepared for the test as he could be. Closing his notebook, he glanced at the clock. It was a little after his normal dinnertime. He rejoined Brian and Scott, and they all decided to order some carryout pizza.

Before calling the local pizzeria, Michael reluctantly dialed his parents’ phone number.

“Hi, Dad,” Michael said when his call was answered.

“Michael! Good to hear from you,” his dad said enthusiastically. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is great,” Michael replied, glad that they weren’t using the internet video to talk―his father might see the lump on his head. Fortunately, his parents were very leery of the security of internet connections. Anyone, especially hackers and identity thieves, could monitor those calls. Of course, if the government was involved, they were probably already monitoring internet and cell phone calls under the pretense of “Homeland Security.”

“You’re feeling okay? Not sick or anything?” his father asked.

So his parents had been following the news. “No, I’m perfectly fine. My roommates are good too. What seems to be going on?”

“Well,” his father hesitated. His parents were a little paranoid about speaking plainly on the phone. “We’ve seen some postings on the web as well as some video that has been uploaded. It’s really disturbing.”

“How bad is it?” Michael asked.

“You may want to check it out for yourself,” his father replied. He sounded more than just a little concerned. “We have been thinking about making a trip to Aunt Thelma’s soon. We’d really like you to think about coming too, if we decide to visit her.”

Michael gripped the phone a little tighter. “Sure, I’ll think about it. When will you know more?”

“I think we’ll make a decision late tomorrow,” his dad said. “In the meantime, you may want to stock up on some camping supplies. Maybe one to two weeks’ worth.”

“Okay,” Michael said. “I’ll call you tomorrow after I get off work.”

“Are you scheduled to work at the pharmacy tomorrow?”

“Yes, and I may need to pull a shift at the animal shelter, too. I don’t know. They haven’t called me with this week’s schedule yet.”

“You might want to pick up some things at the pharmacy while you’re there. Love you, son.”

“Love you, Dad. Say hi to Mom for me.”

“Will do. Bye.”

Michael slowly placed the phone back into the cradle. There was no Aunt Thelma in their family. “Going to visit Aunt Thelma” was a code phrase for getting out of town and heading to the summer cabin that his parents had been working on for the past five years. Things were serious—at least, serious enough to concern his father. And his father wasn’t one to scare easily. Michael stood there, mind racing.

His parents were what other people called “preppers.” Most people thought preppers were crazy, paranoid people who were into stockpiling guns and ammo, waiting for judgment day. Michael pretty much tended to agree with that assessment. Most preppers he had met were more than just a little nuts. On the other hand, although he wouldn’t admit it to his parents, some preparations did seem to make sense. Why not prepare for a possible problem? People put on seat belts all the time. Are they crazy? No. It’s just about taking precautions. If a hurricane was heading toward the coast, shouldn’t people prepare for it? The government even issued warnings and recommendations at the beginning of hurricane season about being prepared. Far from the hurricane-susceptible coast, the state of Ohio still had its dangers. In the middle of “Tornado Alley,” an emergency situation had the potential to develop at a moment’s notice. People would be negligent if they had no plans for their family in case the warning sirens went off. Michael even remembered having tornado drills in the middle of school.

But preparing for an end-of-the-world scenario was a bit too obsessive for Michael. He really resented how much time, energy, and money his parents had invested in prepping that he felt could have been better utilized elsewhere. It was embarrassing when he lived at home and his parents had dragged him to prepping conventions. Although the meetings were boring and he would rather have hung out with his friends, he had learned some skills as he was growing up. Not that he’d ever have a chance to use them. Even though his parents were extreme, he still loved them. They were his parents. He just wished they would tone down their fanaticism a bit.

That was how he had felt… until his conversation with his father. A little sliver of doubt had just been inserted into his beliefs.

Brian walked into the room. “Did you order the pizza yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” Michael replied. He was lost in thought. “Hey, Brian, if I could borrow your car, I’ll make a quick grocery run. We’re running a little low on food, and I can pick up that self-rising crust pizza that’s just as good as the restaurant. It costs less too.”

“Yeah, fine. But I thought we were okay on food…”

“We’re okay on potato chips and soda…but when it comes to real food, we don’t have much. I just need to pick up a few things,” Michael said.

Brian dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out the keys. Tossing them to Michael, he asked if he needed some money.

Michael caught the keys, shook his head no, and left the apartment. Going out the back door, he crossed the lawn to Brian’s car. Michael’s head was still spinning from the comments his father had made. He had told him to pick up camping supplies. That meant Michael needed to make sure he had enough food and water for one to two weeks. Hopefully, his father was just overly worried, and this was all merely a preventative measure. They could use a little bit more food anyway; and with him and his two friends in the apartment, any extra food would definitely not go to waste.

Getting into the car, Michael drove down the gravel alleyway that went behind the row of apartment buildings and out onto the paved street. He traveled the few minutes to the town’s one and only grocery store. At this time of night, the parking lot and the store were fairly deserted. Michael went into the store, got a shopping cart, and then used the antiseptic towels provided at the entrance to wipe down the cart’s handlebar. It was a good habit he had picked up. Most people didn’t know how effective shopping carts were at spreading germs.

He pushed his cart up and down the aisles, picking out things here and there. Barely seeing the items on the shelves, Michael was still thinking about the flu virus. Everything seemed so surreal, almost like a dream. He picked out cans of vegetables and meat. He also got a big value pack of hot dogs and another box of burgers. From there, he went into the picnic section and got a couple of bags of charcoal along with a few boxes of stick matches.

He looked around at the few customers shopping in the store. They were all going about their normal lives, oblivious to any pending threat bearing down on them, reading box labels, checking prices, and deciding which brand of pasta sauce to get. They seemed to be acting so…normal. Were they normal, and was Michael panicking? Why had the conversation with his father unnerved him so much? Maybe it was the tone of underlying urgency in his father’s voice. That was what had scared Michael.

He hoped beyond all hope that everything was normal and would continue to be normal.

Michael went through the checkout and loaded up the car with the groceries. Then he brought the cart back into the store. He wasn’t finished yet.

He went directly to the cleaning aisle. He got a couple of gallons of generic bleach and a few packs of rubber cleaning gloves. He was looking for the latex surgical gloves but couldn’t find any. The grocery store probably didn’t carry them anyway. He also looked for, and was surprised to find, some masks that were intended to help protect the wearer from the noxious chemical-cleaner fumes. Remembering that the flu virus could be spread by inhaling contaminated air, he added more than a few boxes of masks to his cart. Then, he filled up any remaining space with gallon jugs of drinking water.

Heading for the checkout, he realized he’d almost forgotten the pizza. He went back to the freezers and grabbed their favorite brand.

He arrived back at the apartment a short time later and carried the grocery bags into the kitchen. He was just putting away the canned vegetables when Brian walked in.

“Did you get the pizza?” Brian asked.

Michael reached into one of the grocery bags and tossed a large, square box to him. Catching it easily, Brian turned the box around and read, “Pepperoni supreme! You got the best!”

“Of course.”

Brian eagerly took the pizza out of the box and shoved it inside the oven. He then turned to watch Michael put away all the cans of food. Brian had a really puzzled look on his face. “What’s with all the vegetables? You never eat vegetables.”

Michael looked at the can that he was putting in the cupboard. Green beans. “We should be eating a little healthier,” he replied.

“Right,” Brian said, looking at him curiously.

Michael didn’t want to tell his friends anything yet, at least not until he knew more. He was praying that there was nothing to worry about, and he wouldn’t have to tell them anything. Then, the only problem he would be facing was what to do with all the vegetables he had just bought. He really didn’t like eating them.

After storing the food and helping his two roommates devour the pizza, Michael retired to his bedroom under the pretense of studying. He closed the door, and instead of opening up his notes, he grabbed his laptop.

It seemed like his connection was down, because it took him forever to bring up any web pages. It happened from time to time. Their internet connection in the apartment wasn’t very good. All the search results links he clicked on had a “404, page not found” error. He tried to bring up some video to see what his father was referring to, but most website links stated that the video had been removed due to “content.” The only news he was able to read was that the California governor had issued a statewide curfew in order to try to prevent widespread panic and looting.

He did manage to find one video link that was still working. It was a shaky video, uploaded from someone’s cell phone, showing the outside of an unknown emergency room. It was dark, and there were flashing emergency lights and sirens everywhere. Ambulances were parked haphazardly in front of the entrance. The video was very fuzzy, but Michael could see that the emergency room was packed wall-to-wall with sick people. There were even people waiting outside the entrance, jamming the doorway.

Occasionally, the person taking the video pointed his cell phone at a gurney being wheeled by. A sheet covered the entire gurney, hiding whatever was beneath. Dead bodies, Michael presumed. He wondered if the sheets were out of respect or if they were covering up the dead in an attempt to prevent others from panicking—probably both.