Islands - The Epidemic: An Airborne Ebola Disaster Read online

  Max laughed, a short sharp laugh. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

  “Not really. If society had fallen apart around you, and you found yourself the only person living in the area, you might get really scared. If someone came and attacked you, who would you report them to? Who’s left to look after you? You’re relying on the morality of the individual.” She passed her gaze through the group to confirm they got the point. “The pretence of civility slips away very quickly in situations like this. We can’t be sloppy.”

  Max relented, “Yes, you’re right.” He released the handle and, reaching for the knocker, gave three sharp taps and waited for a response. When a few seconds passed and no one came, he gave three more, whilst Hannah moved to a window and cupped her hands against the glass.

  “I can’t see anyone in the living room,” she said.

  Max knocked again, this time harder.

  When the door remained closed a short while later: “Alright, at least we tried,” Judith said. “See if it’s unlocked.”

  He turned the handle, simultaneously pushing the door, then looked at the others when it shifted and opened. “Hello! Is there anyone here?” he called, leaning around the frame. Waiting a moment for an answer, he stepped into the hall with the others close behind.

  “Oh!” Hannah screwed her face up and noticeably winced, “horrible,” she said when the only thing that greeted them was the silence and the smell.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Domes, Two Miles off the North East Coast of Scotland.

  William stood and quickly crossed to the radio left on the table. He had not expected the ‘returners’ to get back in touch so quickly and had casually placed it down by the door on his way back into the apartment.

  He was exhausted after a bad night: worrying about what the group might find, what kind of future they might have and, when he finally did get off to sleep, his dreams had been disturbing.

  He had barely been back home five minutes and was considering returning to bed, when the radio crackled as an attempted connection was made.

  He pressed the button and spoke into the transmitter. “Hello, William here.”

  “William,” a strange voice said. “I thought everyone was dead,” the man sobbed . “I thought everyone was dead.”

  William’s throat tightened. “Who is this? How did you get this radio?” he snapped, worried the group had been attacked and their equipment stolen.

  “They’re all dead,” the man gasped, seemingly oblivious to the professor’s questions. “All dead.”

  William was starting to panic. “Who are all dead?” he said slowly, suddenly very much awake.

  “On the oil rig. Everyone on the Dunford Oil Rig. They’re all dead. I’m the only one alive.”

  William took a deep breath and exhaled the terror slowly from his body. “Are you sick?” he asked, more calmly.

  “Think I’ve got the flu,” the man replied. “Haven’t got what they’ve got,” he insisted.

  “How long have you been ill?” William asked, unconvinced.

  “Started yesterday.”

  “When did everyone else die?”

  “The last of them, last week.” The man began to cry again. “It’s been horrible. I tried to get rid of them, push them off the rig, but I can’t get rid of the blood.”

  William was intrigued. Perhaps the disease was losing its potency. “We’ll keep in contact, so you’re not alone.”

  “No! No!” the man said, desperately. “I need help.”

  “We can’t help you.”

  “I know where you are. I heard your message.” A loud barking cough interrupted the man’s flow, “Oh... Oh... Horrible.”

  William froze. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just a bit of blood.”

  “What do you mean you know where we are?” William probed.

  “I heard you talking to the Nuclear Sub. I need to come down. I need help. You told them you have a hospital. I need medicine.”

  “You can’t come down here.” William wanted to be comforting and had no wish to be cruel; still, he felt the need to bluntly remind the man that their location made a casual jaunt to the Domes impossible. “We’re on the seabed.”

  “I have a mini-sub.”

  William’s eyes widened. “You have a what?”

  “I have a mini-sub. I’m coming down.”

  “You can’t,” William insisted. “No, you can’t, you’re sick.”

  “I only have the flu.”

  “No, you mustn’t.”

  “The other sub is coming, I’m coming too. I need help,” the man began to cry again. “I can’t stand it here alone anymore.”

  “Go back to the mainland,” William urged.

  “There’s no-one there,” the man whimpered, “I can’t reach anyone.”

  “You mustn’t come here. You’ll infect us,” William said, desperately. “Even if you have the flu, we can’t risk contamination.”

  “I’m not well. I need help.”

  In the unlikely event of the man surviving, William knew he would be able to direct him to the others on the mainland. “We can talk to you and when you get better we can help.” He released the button and there came no response. “Hello,” he said but, the radio continued to remain silent.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kinnaird Head, North East Coast of Scotland

  Max recognised the stench the moment he opened the door, but after Judith’s warning he still felt the need to be sure the house was devoid of living occupants before beginning his search for keys.

  Judith and Susan quickly covered their noses and mouths in a vain attempt to stop the odour whilst Hannah, who immediately felt nauseous, quickly returned outside.

  “I think we should seize the opportunity to take a closer look at this disease,” Judith mumbled through her coat, which was now pulled up to just below eye level.

  “Alright,” Joseph said, “but the usual precautions must be adhered to.”

  “Of course,” she said. She removed some protective gloves, a facemask and a bottle of surgical alcohol from a side pocket in her bag.

  “Do you have some of those for me?” Max asked, as Judith pulled on the protection. “I’d like to take a look as well.”

  “Sure.” She handed him another set before stepping into the living room.

  Max kitted up and was just about to follow, when she returned to the hall. “Nothing there,” she said.

  Max stepped into the kitchen. For a moment, he stood in the doorway before moving further into the room. Briefly, he disappeared then, “There’s no-one here either,” could be heard, just before he returned to the passage. “Have you noticed the house is still warm?” He stopped at a radiator and touched the metal with a gloved hand. “Yep, it’s hot.”

  Joseph reached for the light switch and flicked it on. “Well at least we still have power.”

  “That’s a good sign, yes?” Susan asked.

  “It would take a while for the supply to go off as the power stations will look after themselves up to a point,” Max informed, “eventually, though, things need maintaining and then they break down.”

  “How long do you think that’ll take?” Susan enquired.

  “Hard to say, it’ll probably vary from region to region and power station to power station.”

  “Let’s hope it’s still on in Kent,” Judith said, as she started up the stairs, “we’ll need it to help with the research.”

  Max followed close behind, the smell increasing as he ascended the steps.

  Just short of the top, Judith stopped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She pointed.

  He raised his brows. “Oh...” he said, quietly.

  The bathroom door was standing open with most of the room beyond visible. The previously white bath panel was splattered with dried, pinkish blood, which ran down to floor level. A pool had formed on the cream lino and a crimson spray on the wall by the toilet indi
cated some attempt had been made to hit the bowl, with the reddish mass encircling the base confirming it had failed.

  “Someone’s been hemorrhaging,” Judith informed the others downstairs. “The bathroom’s covered in blood.”

  Max tapped her shoulder and pointed to a jagged red trail running the full length of the passage and into a room at the far end.

  “We’re going to look inside one of the bedrooms,” he called.

  They stepped up to the landing and crossed to the door.

  It was not fully shut, but when Max pushed against the wood he found it opened just a fraction more before jamming against an obstacle on the other side.

  “What’s the matter?” Judith asked when he stopped.

  “There’s something obstructing the door.”

  He grabbed the handle and leaned his weight against the wood. Max was surprised by how much effort was required to push the blockage out of the way. A scraping sound could be heard as he forced the door open until it was wide enough to enter, then he stepped into the room with Judith immediately behind.

  A woman, wearing only a satin slip, was lying face down on the floor.

  “Looks like she was either coming back from making that mess or was returning to make some more,” Judith said, pointing to a dark stain on the carpet around the woman’s head.

  The room was extremely gloomy, making it difficult to see.

  “Does Ebola produce light sensitivity?” Max asked. “Maybe that’s why the curtains are drawn.”

  “It can,” Judith replied, “but because it’s been genetically altered, I can’t guarantee it’ll run the same course. Let’s take a closer look.” She crossed the room and opened the curtains. As she turned around she noticed a further body lying in the bed. “Here’s another one.”

  The pillow and blankets around the corpse were caked hard with dried blood.

  Judith stepped closer, careful to avoid brushing against the linen, and leaned over the body. “It’s a man and I’d say he’s been dead for about a week.”

  Max checked his gloves were properly in place then pulled on the shoulder of the corpse by the door.

  The woman’s face was stuck to the carpet and he had to peel it free to turn her over. Her blonde hair was rigid with dried matter and the skin on her right cheek was black. Despite the discolouration Max could see the flesh had begun to break down and the tissue was starting to separate. “She’s wearing a ring. They’re probably married.”

  Judith slowly pulled back the bedclothes to find the man naked beneath the blankets.

  Bruising covered his body and blood, seeped from his eyes, had run into his ears. His lips and nose were smeared with matter and the mattress beneath his groin was stained rusty red.

  She pointed to the discoloration. “He’s been bleeding in his bladder and bowel.”

  “You wouldn’t think they’d died in a bedroom,” Max said, horrified. “You’d think they’d been hit by a truck.”

  Judith returned the sheet, this time covering the man’s face. “Let’s go. I think we’ve seen enough.”

  Susan and Joseph had joined Hannah outside by the time they returned downstairs.

  “What do you think it is?” Joseph asked.

  “It definitely looks like Ebola,” Judith said, carefully removing her protective gloves. “And if the reports are correct and it’s gone airborne, then I doubt anyone would have stood a chance.”

  A spark of fear flashed through the group.

  “Our only hope,” she continued, “is if the virus eventually decomposes in the air. Without a host, it may dry out and become inert. If that’s not the case, it’s just a matter of time before we’re all infected, and taking precautions like this,” she said pouring alcohol over the gloves before setting them ablaze, “won’t make the slightest bit of difference. I suggest we double our intake of the antiviral drugs.” She shrugged. “You never know, it might help.”

  Joseph nodded. “I think we should press on with the search for our families and get to the Disease Control Centre as quickly as possible.” He stepped back into the house and found a set of car keys hanging on a hook near the door. By the time he returned outside they were ready to go.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Domes, Two Miles off the North East Coast of Scotland.

  William rang the bell and waited for Carl to answer. “I need to speak to you.” He stepped into the apartment, afraid they would be heard, and closed the door behind him.

  “What’s wrong?” Carl could see the Professor was worried.

  “We need to contact the nuclear sub and see if they can get here quicker.”

  “Why? What’s happened?” Carl crossed to the couch and sat in front of the radio.

  “A man alone on an oil rig in the North Sea heard our transmission with the sub and wants to come down to join us.”

  “Presumably he’s been exposed.”

  “Definitely. He was coughing up blood as we spoke.”

  “If he’s on an oil rig he can’t get down here.”

  “Oh yes he can.”

  Carl raised his eyebrows, questioningly.

  “He has a sub.”

  The young man took a deep breath and handed the Professor the transmitter.

  “William Cramb contacting Captain Pendell.”

  “One moment please,” came a quick response.

  William waited, then, “Captain Pendell here,” came through the receiver.

  “We have a situation,” William informed. “There’s a very sick man on an oil rig about seventy kilometres north of here. He has a mini-sub and is adamant he’s going to join us. Is there any way you can arrive quicker to stop him docking?”

  “Certainly. We’ve only been cruising; we’re nowhere near top speed. Depending on his sub, his maximum speed should be no more than eight knots per hour, but of course the faster he goes the more he’ll drain his power and seventy kilometres will be close on its farthest range. It’ll still take us about twelve hours to reach you, so it might be tight. Are there any precautions you can take in the meantime?”

  “We can block some of the ports with escape subs, but he could still get in through the largest dock, which was used to transport equipment. All of the domes can be locked down in case of an emergency so, if need be, we can evacuate everyone into the south side to keep them safe.”

  “Good. Hold on a minute...”

  William waited, the radio silent, for the captain to return.

  Seconds later, “You might want to get on that,” he warned, “my Sonar Operator has just told me he’s detected another vessel in the water.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kinnaird Head, North East Coast of Scotland

  Joseph contacted William whilst the others loaded the equipment into the car. “The bodies definitely showed signs of Ebola,” he informed. He waited for a response then, “Hello, hello...” when the radio went silent.

  “Sorry. I’m still here,” William said, slowly, “I just so regret letting you all go.”

  “There must be no regrets. It was our choice and we certainly don’t regret coming. We’ve doubled our intake of anti-viral drugs and Judith said that, because the disease is accelerated, it may have burned itself out in any case.”

  “She could be right. We were contacted by a man on the Dunford Oil Rig. He was ill, but from what he said, everyone else died about a week ago. This could be a sign the disease is losing its potency.”

  “So if the only contact we have is with the dead, then hopefully, we may remain safe.”

  “Yes. We have a bit of a problem,” William warned. “The man on the rig is apparently on his way here. The nuclear sub is trying to arrive first to stop him docking, but we’re going to evacuate to Neptune just to be safe. We’ve blocked all the ports with escape subs, but if he circles and finds he can get into Pisces, he could force his way in. He shouldn’t arrive for at least twelve hours, but when he does we might be tied up and you may not be able to get through.”

>   “Right.” Joseph heard an engine starting behind. He turned to see Max in the driver’s seat and the three women in the back. “Gotta go. We’ll speak later when we have more information. Joseph out.” He climbed into the passenger seat and clicked the door shut.

  “Everything all right?” Max asked. He had noticed Joseph’s face drop early on in the conversation with William and, although he could not hear what had been said, he could see the marine biologist was shocked.

  “Yes, fine.” Joseph felt the group had enough to worry about, without the additional anguish of the Domes being at risk of contamination. He quickly changed the subject. “So, where’s next?”

  Susan leaned forward, “Aberdeen to check on my mother.”

  Max pulled away, “Aberdeen it is then.” He turned out of the housing estate and joined the main road.

  As they travelled the length of the high street, the group checked for movement, scrutinising shops and fishing boats along the way until they ran out of buildings, leaving Kinnaird Head behind, and turned out into open countryside.

  Narrow country roads slowed their progress so it was some time, with little distance covered, before they came across a sign for the motorway.

  “You’d think someone would die outside,” Hannah said as they passed through another village with signs of damage and general abandonment, but still no people.

  “People usually die at home,” Judith rationalised. “If I felt as terrible as those two looked, I certainly wouldn’t feel like going shopping.”

  “No,” Hannah agreed, distractedly. Now they were on their way, she was even more worried about Hilary and Beverly. An urgency, which had started with their arrival, was growing like a tumour and she now felt sick thinking about what could have happen to them.

  “At long last,” Max said, an hour later, when they finally joined the slip road onto the A96. They rounded a bend and climbed higher as the road ascended to the motorway, then came to an abrupt halt when they found the way impassable.