“What happened?”
“What happened? All these people got sick is what happened. Many of ‘em are just kids.”
“How many people did you admit?”
“I don’t know, everyone that wanted in.”
“We had a specific limit for a reason. You won’t be able to take care of all these people.”
“I told her it was okay,” Duncan said, walking up behind them.
“Have you been here all night?”
“Yeah, I just dropped in to check on them and we started getting an influx of patients. I thought I’d stay and help out. Many of the younger kids,” he said, stopping a moment as he choked up, “many of the younger kids don’t have the immune systems to fight very long. No more than a few hours after they’re ill enough to come here. We’re going to need more pain medication to make them comfortable.”
Samantha looked out over the sea of cots and the bodies huddled on the floor. “We need a larger space first. I saw a stadium a few days ago; I’ll look into getting that for us.”
“Okay, I’ll speak to Ralph about ordering some more meds.”
Sam nodded, not taking her eyes off the patients, their eyes empty, many of their faces caked with dried blood. She took out her cell phone and stepped outside. She felt the urge to take a deep breath and exhale furiously to get everything out of her lungs. It was instinctual, nothing based on reason, and she fought the urge and instead dialed Ralph Wilson’s cell.
“What’s going on, Sam?” Wilson said, answering on the second ring.
“We need a bigger space than the rec center. We’ve run out of cots.”
“Already? How many patients are there?”
“I don’t know, the staff didn’t keep track. I would guess somewhere around twelve hundred.”
“I’ll get some more volunteers down there. What else do you need?”
“Duncan’s going to ask you for more pain meds. Just start shipping those now. I saw a stadium on Salt Lake Boulevard.”
“Yeah, it’s Aloha Stadium. They hold the University of Hawaii football games there.”
“We need to take it. I’ll call the stadium people. I haven’t read Pushkin’s report. Is it as bad as I’ve heard?”
“Well, he basically says this agent doesn’t meet the criteria to be identified as any known biological agent. It hit three similarity points for Ebola and four for smallpox, but that’s it. Not enough to classify it as either. And it’s not black pox like we thought, though it has the same symptomology. This is something we haven’t seen before.”
Wilson cleared his throat and didn’t speak for a moment. Sam knew what that meant. She sat down on the curb and waited for him to speak first, but he didn’t.
“What is it, Ralph?”
“The military presented an option last night that is looking more and more viable.”
“What is it?”
“There are a lot of smaller islands in the Hawaiian chain. Easy to clear the populations out and put them on the larger islands.”
“Don’t tell me this is going where I think it’s going.”
“It may come to that.”
“You want to take all the uninfected people to another island and let the infected just die here. Like dogs, Ralph? You’re talking about genocide.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“And what are you going to do when a mother is infected but her child isn’t, Ralph? Are you going to rip a child away from their mother?”
“We’re not to that point yet and there’s no need for worst cast scenarios. It’s just an option if this thing gets out of control. But we don’t need to talk about it yet. The vaccines have arrived. Pushkin doesn’t know whether they’ll be effective, but it’s worth a shot. I’ll need you to set up locations throughout the island to distribute them.”
“I’ll take care of it right after I get the stadium.”
“Okay. Keep safe, Sam.”
“I will. Thanks.”
She hung up and got on her bike. If she was going to get permission to use an entire stadium to hold thousands of ill patients at no cost, she would have to meet with the owners in person.
CHAPTER 26
Robert Greyjoy checked the clip in his silenced Ruger.22 caliber pistol and waited around the corner of the restaurant. It was an Italian place, red brick with the white and red checkered table clothes in cartoon depictions of Italian restaurants. It had been closed this morning but friends and relatives of the owners had been coming and going all day, stocking up on supplies, as everyone was uncertain of exactly where meals would be coming from over the next few days. People were no longer comforted by government officials telling them food would be shipped in. Robert had had a sense for decades that every successive generation trusted their government less and less.
A car pulled up with four men inside. Three of them exited the vehicle and went inside, leaving the driver alone to bury his head in his phone and ignore the outside world.
Robert waited until the other three men had disappeared inside the restaurant and then he casually walked down the sidewalk, the gun held low by his leg. He opened the passenger side door to the car and got inside, holding the barrel to the man’s crotch.
“If you honk the horn or scream I’m going to blow your dick off and then drive the car myself. No, don’t talk, just listen. Put the car in drive and start going. Turn right at the intersection that’s up ahead.”
“Ain’t got that much cash, my man. But you can take it.”
“I don’t want your money and if you don’t do what I say, you better hope you’ve already slept with a lot of women ‘cause you’re not getting another chance.”
“Easy, brother.”
The man started the car and pulled away from the curb. Robert ducked down in the car and to anyone watching it would have appeared like only the driver was in the vehicle. The man turned right at the intersection. The streets were empty and he drove slowly, not saying anything.
Robert sat up, the gun still pointed at the man. “You made a delivery two months ago and you were paid quite handsomely for it, Richie.”
“Hey, I don’t know nothin’ about-”
“Don’t lie to me. It’s very cowardly and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s cowards.”
Richie stayed silent a moment and then said, “All right. I remember.”
“Did you look inside the package you were delivering?”
“No.”
“You sure? You seem uncertain. Maybe I should blow one of your balls off and see if that jogs your memory?”
“No, man. No they told me not to look inside and I didn’t look inside.”
“Okay, good. You’re doing very well, Richie. Now, who did you give the package to?”
“The dude.”
“What dude?”
“There was a guy, a Spanish guy. Mexican or something. He came down to where I was and he picked it up and that was it.”
“You sure? You didn’t lose it? Leave it at the airport or something?”
“Nah, man. I ain’t no amateur. I done this before for you guys.”
“All right, all right. Here’s what we’re gonna do; you’re going to go-”
Richie twisted the wheel as far to the left as it would go, hitting the curb. Robert’s head flew into the passenger side window, cracking it. Richie jumped out of the car while it was still moving and rolled onto the pavement. Robert got off one shot, the sound of the ricocheting slug filling the car as it hit a lamppost.
Robert leapt from the car, holding his head as blood began to flow down and soak his collar. He ran around to the back of the car and saw Richie running down an alley. He aimed his pistol but Richie turned down a side alley and was gone.
“Shit,” Robert said, starting a slow jog down the sidewalk.
He saw Richie running down to the intersection a block away. Robert ran back to the car and jumped into the driver’s seat. He backed away from the lamppost and then sped down the street, turning at an intersection down to the block Richie was on.
The street, like the rest of the city, was empty. The only other place Robert had seen such desolation had been in Afghanistan last year. Insurgents would send word that they were going to take a town and cut off the heads of anyone that remained. The town, within a few hours, would be nothing but buildings and trails of animal dung leading out of the city from the livestock the residents took with them. Many times, the insurgents never came. When they did, they held true to their promise and by the time Robert came in there would be heads thrust onto pikes along the roadsides.