Olivia spun in her chair to face Gonzalez and extended a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Dr. Gonzalez pulled away from Olivia.
Dr. Wheeler said, “He’s a germophobe.”
“Careful is a better word,” said Dr. Gonzalez.
Wheeler said, “Olivia and I were talking about her brother. He’s in Uganda this summer. I was telling her that he’s probably safe from the Ebola outbreak. As you know the outbreak is in West Africa. Uganda is pretty far from there.”
Dr. Gonzalez seated himself on the same side of the table as Olivia, but left an empty chair between them, fussily arranging his computer bag on the conference table. “Uganda. Where?”
“Um,” Olivia thought about it for a minute. “A little farming town. It’s…uh…Kapchorwa?”
“Never heard of it,” said Gonzalez. “Wheeler, open up a map of Africa on your computer.”
Wheeler rolled his eyes and winked at Olivia.
“I saw that,” Gonzalez said. “I’m eccentric, not oblivious.”
“Right.” Wheeler manipulated the mouse and typed. A few seconds later, he turned the computer sideways on the conference table so that everyone could see the screen.
Olivia leaned forward.
Gonzalez leaned back.
“Zoom in over here.” Olivia pointed.
Wheeler did as instructed and zoomed the map in on the eastern half of the country.
Olivia leaned in a little further and pointed to a spot just above a big blob of green. “That’s it there, just north of that park.” She sat back.
Gonzalez leaned forward. “Zoom out, Wheeler.”
Dr. Wheeler fiddled with the wheel on his mouse. “That’s Mt. Elgon National Park.”
Dr. Gonzalez sighed.
Olivia looked at Dr. Gonzalez, who said nothing to elaborate. She looked at Wheeler. He was wearing his poker face. Olivia frowned and looked back at Gonzalez. “What?”
The doctor opened his mouth to speak as Dr. Wheeler cut him off. “Olivia, before you listen to him, you need to know a quarter million people—maybe more—live within a dozen miles of the base of that mountain.”
She looked at Gonzalez. “What? You sighed dramatically like Austin’s in Godzilla’s backyard.”
Dr. Gonzalez pulled a face. “I thought Austin was in Texas.”
With a dramatic eye roll, Olivia said, “My brother’s name is Austin, Austin Cooper. Now tell me what’s wrong? Why the sigh?”
Dr. Gonzalez seemed to think about Olivia’s request for a moment as his face went through changes of expression. “You’ve heard of the Marburg virus?”
“Yes,” she answered, using information she’d gleaned from Dr. Wheeler’s presentation. “It’s similar to Ebola. The first Filovirus discovered. Named for Marburg, the city in Germany where factory workers at a company making polio vaccines got sick, I think. Thirty-something infected? Seven or eight died?”
“Good memory,” Dr. Gonzalez was impressed. “Not to put too much of a scare into you, but the monkeys that carried the virus to Marburg were imported from Uganda.”
“That’s enough, Steve.”
Olivia shot Dr. Wheeler a disapproving look, then shifted attention back to Dr. Gonzalez. “No, it’s not. So, the monkeys came from Uganda? That’s not necessarily insignificant. Tell me what else.”
“In 1980 and again in 1987, Mt. Elgon was connected to outbreaks of the Marburg virus.”
“I didn’t know that,” Olivia replied. “How many died?”
Dr. Gonzalez continued, “Only one in each case. It’s not clear how either patient was infected, but both spent time on Mt. Elgon prior to turning symptomatic.”
“So there might be a species there that carries the virus, but isn’t affected by it.” Olivia looked at Dr. Wheeler. “What did you call it? Something of a Typhoid Mary species…a reservoir species.”
Dr. Gonzalez paused. “What do you do here, again?”
“Analysis,” Olivia answered.
Dr. Gonzalez looked at Dr. Wheeler. “You must give a riveting Filovirus presentation.”
Dr. Wheeler said, “She’s a worrier, but she’s a smart one.”
Olivia shot Dr. Wheeler a harsh glare with a little smile.
“Is your brother the adventurous type?” Dr. Gonzalez asked. “Is he likely to climb the mountain and go spelunking?”
Olivia’s face lost its color. She fumbled around in her purse for a moment then remembered she left her cell phone in her car. Cell phones weren’t allowed inside the building. She looked up at Dr. Wheeler and then at Dr. Gonzalez. “He sent me some pictures a few weeks ago of him hiking up the mountain and standing in front of Sipi Falls.
Dr. Wheeler searched for Sipi Falls in another browser window. After a moment, the map showed the location up on the side of Mt. Elgon.
Dr. Gonzalez frowned. “Oh, my.”
Dr. Wheeler stood up and walked around the conference table, moved a chair, and leaned against the table beside Olivia. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, the world is full of infectious diseases. We talked about those before Eeyore showed up.” Dr. Wheeler glanced at Dr. Gonzalez for emphasis. He then looked back at Olivia. “You know as well as I do, the chances of Austin catching anything like this in Africa are almost zero.” He turned to Gonzalez. “That was two deaths in—what, five cases—since 1980, right?”
“Right,” Gonzalez confirmed.
Looking back at Olivia, Dr. Wheeler asked, “Do you have any idea how many people go up that mountain for camping and whatnot? Do you know how many coffee farmers or goat herders or whatever live on that mountain?”
“No.”
“Neither do I, but I’ll bet it’s a bunch. And if you think about all the people who go up there every year for all these years, and only two of them came down with Marburg, I’d say the odds are way in your favor that nothing bad will happen to your brother. Hell, there’s never been any proof they got infected with a rare Filovirus on that mountain. At this point, Mt. Elgon is only a coincidence in those two men’s lives.”
Olivia looked up at Dr. Wheeler. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Chapter 34
Everything ached. Austin didn’t know if it was the Ebola, the work, or both. He stepped around Nurse Mary-Margaret’s blood-soaked body with a bucket in each hand. She’d been lying there all night. They could’ve had Austin and Littlefield carry the body out but leaving the body there sent a strong unspoken message.
Austin went out through the back door. One of the yellow HAZMAT guys with one hand lazily resting on his weapon stood about ten paces behind the building and watched Austin. Austin breathed in deeply through his surgical mask. There was a time when it had smelled fresh, but so much stink had coated the mask that every breath, whether inside or outside, smelled and tasted the same.
Austin nodded a greeting at the yellow clad Arab, a way to silently say, I’m friendly. Please don’t shoot me. Not that it mattered. The more Austin saw the people inside suffer, the less he wanted any part of it. Perhaps a bullet was the merciful path to whatever came next.
The guard didn’t react to Austin’s nod. No surprise. He hadn’t responded to Austin, even once, through the course of the night. Austin suspected the guard didn’t see him as human, or didn’t want to see him that way. Seeing him as human would make it harder to kill him. In a way, Austin’s nod was a lottery ticket of hope in case the disease didn’t do him in. Each nod was a purchase. Maybe one would pay off.
Austin rounded the corner of the building and walked over to the pit, which was situated far enough from the back of the building that the contents could be burned. At least that was Dr. Littlefield’s plan. Austin doubted that was going to happen. He dumped the buckets one at a time, careful to do it slowly, lest coagulating lumps drop into the muddy liquid and splash up in his face. When he turned around to head back, he saw the second guard—the one whose job it was to keep an eye on the pit and anyone who came out to dump a body or other waste.