Acidalia XI-A
By Amanda D

San Francisco Monday August 7. 9:22pm

The testing center was packed full of perspective patients waiting as patiently as could be expected for their turn to be poked and prodded. Their faces, for the most part, were plastered with looks of a combination for boredom and anxiety. If one listened closely enough you could almost hear the hum of frayed nerves behind the constant onslaught of crying and coughing.

Dr. Rita Fleming, teetering on the verge of exhaustion, stood watching the procession from her resting place along the back wall of the building, gape jawed in amazement at the sheer number of infected. She leaned heavily on the concrete block wall painted utility green, hoping it would remain strong enough to hold her up while she fought to keep her eyes open long enough to get through at least another half a dozen tests.

It had been like this for so many days now that Dr. Fleming had lost count of how many tests she had performed. The lines just never seemed to end and one face blurred into another. Even the offers of sympathy to those that came back with positive tests were given out almost robotically, without feeling or emotion.

The virus, which had already been spreading at an alarming rate, seemed suddenly to have kicked into overdrive. Until recently, a normal day would see anywhere from forty to fifty men in the clinic being checked. Now however there was a line stretching out the door and halfway down the block, maybe even beyond that. There was no way for her to tell.

Now women were also being tested and the number of the fairer sex that were infected with type B was growing so rapidly that some theorized that they might surpass the number of infected men before too long. What that meant for the future of the human race no one knew for sure, but it didn’t sound promising.

“Dr Fleming? Are you OK?” she heard a voice ask.

The short, thin, black-skinned doctor turned her head and tried to make her blazing hot, blood shot eyes focus on the source of the voice. Next to her stood another one of the unending stream of nameless orderlies that never seemed to last more than a day or two.

The obese, homely, black haired woman’s brow was knotted in a look of concern. The frown she bore looked odd, plastered there. To Rita, large round faces were supposed to have equally large smiles plastered on them. However these days, there was little to smile about.

Rita strained to smile. “Yes I’m fine just a bit tired.”

“You should grab a break then. Would you like me to set up a cot out back with the others for you? A few hours shuteye will do you world of good.”

“How can I sleep with all these poor people waiting to be tested?”

“Honey, have you seen the size of that line? Believe me when I tell you these people will still be here when you wake up. Now come on out back and let me get you set up,” the orderly said, taking hold of her elbow.

“No!” she said with irritation as she pulled away from the woman. “That won’t be necessary.”

The portly woman shot her a hurt look that made Rita instantly regret her tone.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Dr. Fleming added, “I could use some coffee though.”

The orderly glanced at her disapprovingly, but only asked. “How do you take it?”

“Black. No sugar. And as strong as you can make it.”

“Stay right here. I’ll be back with it in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” Rita replied wanly.

There was very little chance that Rita would be going anywhere. She had been at the center since late Saturday afternoon; working hour after hour with only a few short breaks here and there, like this one. Dr. Fleming wasn’t sure when the last time she had slept, but would have been willing to bet it was somewhere in the neighborhood of forty eight hours. To be honest she wasn’t even sure what day of the week it was.

The never ending line, that’s what she was beginning to call it. It was a simple name for an ominous truth.

Inwardly she wondered when the Mayor was going to make good on his promise, (or was it more of a threat?), to declare martial law. God knew, if this center was any indication of the way things were citywide, it hard to imagine that he wouldn’t. Then again, declaring martial law might turn out to be akin to locking the barn door after the horse ran off.

“Here you go doctor,” the homely orderly said, startling her a bit.

Rita gratefully accepted the large steaming Styrofoam coffee filled cup. Gingerly she sipped at it. “Mmm, delicious. Thank you very much…”

“Linda. Linda Darsow.”

“Thank you Linda, this is just what I…”

A thunderous crash from just outside the entrance interrupted Dr. Fleming.

“What the hell was that?” she heard Linda ask no one in particular.

Before the doctor could even think to reply, a panic stricken human tidal wave began surging through the entranceway. Some were screaming, others were merely wide-eyed, with terror etched on their faces as they forced their way in the door.

Rita found herself dumbstruck as her mind tried to figure out what could have started the stampede. ‘Did something happen outside,’ she wondered as the room began to fill up with more and more people. It was beginning to look as if the entire line was trying to force its way inside all at once. If it kept up, someone was going to get trampled or worse.

“Everyone stop!” Rita yelled as loud as she could. “There isn’t room for all of you in here!”

Her words were lost in the ever increasing background noise, and did nothing to halt the throng. Instead, they only seemed to make the crush pushing through the double set of steel mesh reinforced Plexiglas doors faster.

Rita looked around for one of the assault rifles wielding National Guardsmen that were supposed to be there to make sure things like this didn’t happen. A quick flash of green out of the corner of her eye made her look over to her left. Way towards the back she spotted one of them fighting to get to the doors, but the flood of people kept pushing the soldier further back. She watched him shoulder his weapon and point it at someone in front of him but if it had any effect at all it wasn’t apartment, as a moment later he was swept under the ever growing crowd.

When the soldier didn’t reappear after a handful of seconds Dr. Fleming felt a ball of ice cold fear burst in her stomach. She understood in that instant just how much trouble they were in.

“Come on!” she shouted to Linda as she grabbed the orderly’s hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked as Rita pulled her through the ever growing crowd.

“We have to get the doors closed before we get crushed. There’s no way we can hold all those people from outside.”

The two women pushed, shoved and clawed their way towards the doors. It seemed at times for every step they took forward, the mass of humanity would push them two steps back. Somehow, however, they made progress and eventually found themselves at the brink of reaching the left hand door. The thing was tantalizingly close. Rita reached out her hand and it fell just inches shy of the mark. Breathing heavily from the exertion the two women braced themselves against each other and pushed again, this time landing right up against the cold metal side.

Even though it had taken less than a minute to achieve their goal it had felt like hours of struggle. The two women clung to the side of the door and began looking for a way to force it closed.

“Doctor… look!” Linda shouted.

Rita turned her head and saw that the throng had begun to abate.

She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief eve as she struggled to catch her breath. She didn’t know what had caused the panicked rush, but at least it seemed to almost over. Perhaps once everyone was inside she would finally find out what had caused the rush to start with. Once she knew what she was dealing with, then maybe there would be a way to calm everyone down enough to get some breathing room.

Pressed up against her right side was a sickly looking grey haired man. The man’s face was flushed with fever and his hacking cough continued incessantly. Her nostrils filled with the vile stench of sweat and sickness.

Rita didn’t even want to be in the same zip code as he was, but she needed information. She pulled her white lab coat over her nose and mouth as best as she could and tugged on the man’s sleeve.

“Can you tell me what’s going on out there?” the doctor asked urgently.

Instead of answering the shell shocked virus victim simply pointed his long boney finger towards the doorway. The short dark skinned doctor looked in the direction the old man indicated and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Pushing the last of the crowd from the sidewalk into the building were a dozen or so men wearing identical red waist length jackets, with matching ski masks. The outfits were completed with an assortment of sleek automatic weapons and menacing shot guns.

Rita felt a second wave of panic build through the crowd, just as the feeling began to take over her as well. The entire room seemed ready to run and hide but the solid concrete walls made for an excellent pen. Instead the entire mob pushed back as if trying to put as much distance between it and the gun wielders.

She could hear pained cries coming from the rear of the room even as she joined in on the crush of bodies.

With the ball of ice growing in her belly, and a mouth as dry as the desert Rita called out “What’s going on? What are you people doing here?”

The hulking man nearest her shouted. “Shut the fuck up, bitch!”

Rita assumed that the entire room was about to die, so a bit of rebellion wasn’t going to make things any worse.

Ignoring his order, she opened her mouth to speak again but Linda tugged on her sleeve and pointed at the still open door, shouting “Oh my God! Rita! Do you know who that is? We’re dead …all dead now …”

Dr. Fleming looked away from Linda’s suddenly ashen complexion and turned back towards the door way. For the second time in as many minutes, she wished she hadn’t. Somewhere in the back of Rita’s mind she absently wondered why she hadn’t gone home last night when she’d had the chance. Now however, with addition of this latest arrival, she knew without question that there was no chance anyone in the clinic was ever going to see home again.

A quick round of gunfire into the ceiling got the entire room’s attention as the tall grey haired man, dressed in a black coat and matching slacks, sporting a minister’s collar around his neck strode into the room. The man’s cold blue eyes sent a chill creeping up Rita’s spine even as the mob behind her fell silent as a grave.

“My name … is Reverend Morris Manning. I am … the voice of God.” he began, in a lackadaisical drawl.

“All of you, here tonight stand condemned as sinners …by God himself!” he proclaimed more loudly, waving a worn looking bible high above his head. “The Lord has sent me here, to pronounce his judgment and pass down his punishment upon all of you.”

As if he were an actor holding for a dramatic pause before saying his next line, the Reverend allowed his words a moment to sink in before continuing, “Now is the time to make your peace with the Almighty …to beg him for forgiveness! He may yet find it in his infinite grace to grant your request before your arrival in hell! However, your time here on earth is at an end.”

As Manning spoke in his surprisingly calm tone, his followers spread out around the room and began pulling down the metal security curtains that covered the windows when the clinic was closed. The snap of each lock being engaged was like a punch to Rita’s stomach.

The crowd behind her began to push forward as they all tried to escape what was meant to be their tomb.

The two men on either side of Manning opened fire into the crowd. As a handful of those closest to the doors went down from the hail of bullets, the rest dove for whatever cover was available. Rita however, simply stood where she was, too stunned to even think about her own safety.

The eerie quiet that engulfed the room in the wake of the brief burst of gun fire was almost surreal. Only the cries of the injured could be heard, and even those had a strange muted quality to them. It was as if everyone had resigned themselves to their fate in the same moment.

Rita bowed her head and began to pray silently even as she heard the soft muttering of others doing the same all around her.

“You there. What is your name?” she heard Manning ask.

Looking up from the floor, it took Dr. Fleming a moment to realize Manning was speaking to her.

At first she was too frightened, too angry, too hurt and confused to answer. His gaze bore into her however, and she felt compelled to answer. “Dr. Rita Fleming,” she replied, her voice more steady than she would have thought possible.

“A doctor? Good. Very good indeed,” Manning said as his eyes wandered towards the ceiling. “God grants you his all encompassing mercy, doctor. You may leave. But there is a price for your life. He commands that you must tell anyone who will listen that I have come here to cleanse this city of the Godless and the dammed. I will be passing out God’s judgment to all he deems deserving. He is my strength and my shield, and no one may stand in my way. Go now, tell them all! Let them tremble in fear over what they have wrought!”

Rita stood rooted in place, unable to comprehend that she had just been pardoned. Manning cocked an impatient eyebrow at her as he waited.

The realization crept over her slowly. A wave of guilt followed right behind it. She knew it was wrong for her to leave the rest here to die. However, she wanted to live more than anything else at that moment. She wanted one last chance to see her sisters and her mother, and found, much to her dismay, that she was willing to sell everyone else’s souls right along with her own to have it.

Manning’s patience ended abruptly as he nodded at one of his men. The masked intruder stepped over to where Fleming stood and grabbed a large handful of her hair. With a firm grip on her long locks, he began to pull her out of the clinic as she howled in pained protest.

Once outside, Rita found herself spun down onto the sidewalk, landing hard on her shoulder and banging the side of her head against the pavement. The impact was enough to leave her seeing stars.

As she half sat, half lay there trying to regain her senses, Rita watched with dreamlike detachment as Manning and his men began to exit the clinic. The entire scene had a disturbing slow motion quality to it. It was almost as if they all believed there wasn’t a force in the world that could do anything to punish this group for what was about to happen.

In the distance Rita thought she could hear the sounds of sirens approaching, but it was hard to tell over the incessant buzzing in her ears. She hoped beyond hope that the police really were on their way, and that somehow they would arrive in time to save those about to be trapped inside the clinic.

With the last of Manning’s followers out of the building, one of them turned back, let off another round of gun fire and tossed an object that resembled a hockey puck back inside. The rest grabbed the solid steel doors, slamming them shut and locking them with a short length of very solid looking chain.

A few ticks of the clock later, Rita heard a muffled boom emanate from inside the clinic as the ground beneath her shook harshly. An instant later a bright orange glow begin to show around the edges of the security curtains and through the small gap under the secured doors. The glow was accompanied by the muffled sound of screaming from inside the burning building.

Rita eyes grew wide with horror as her head suddenly cleared. Manning stepped over as she struggled to get to her feet and grabbed her firmly by the throat and pulled her right up to his face.

“Remember the price for your life, doctor. Tell them all. I am here and woe to any the Lord deems wanting. I am his fist of vengeance, and I will not be stopped!” he reminded her.

Manning stared menacingly at her for another moment. Rita was so close to his face that she could see the madness burning deep inside of him as surely as she could see the edge of the flames from inside the clinic.

The reverend smiled a sinister smile, his hot stinking breath sinking deep into her nostrils and then released his grip on her throat. Rita sank back to her knees gasping for breath as he strode off like a man out for a leisurely stroll on a warm summers night.

The sound of shattering glass drew Rita’s attention back to the now fully engulfed clinic building. For just a moment she dared to hope the sound meant those inside had found a way out of the inferno. However that small hope was summarily squashed as she saw all the metal security curtains still locked into place.

The glass broken, new billows of acrid smoke poured out like blood from a gaping wound. A hideous stench and agonized screams followed the smoke up into the night sky sending a deep shiver through Dr. Fleming. She turned her head and covered her ears, unable to deal with the reality of what was happening in front of her.

The flashing blue and red lights of emergency response vehicles caught her eye as she turned from the engulfed clinic. A desperate wave of hope splashed through her at the sight of the big red fire engine, but was quickly dashed as a secondary explosion from deep within the clinic shook the ground with its force.

Rita was slammed back over onto pavement by the force of the shock wave. She screamed a bitter curse at God for allowing such a tragedy to be committed in his name as she lay there counting body parts.

A pair of hands pulled at her shoulders. Rita looked up to see the outline of a policeman grabbing at her. He looked immense from her prone position as he began to guide the overwhelmed doctor to her feet.

Once up, the officer’s head whipped to the side, and without warning Dr. Fleming found herself scooped up and being carried hastily away. Her ears were ringing so loudly that she had no way of know what was wrong now, so she simply closed her eyes and prayed.

A third thud, followed by yet another sprinkling of glass about her head and shoulders answered her unasked question seconds later. The sparkly sharp shower made the young cop stumble momentarily before regaining his balance. Rita breathed a sigh of relief; with all the glass, even fully clothed, a skid across the pavement would have been deadly at that moment.

Not long afterwards Rita felt herself being lowered gently to the ground. She opened her eyes to find they were now fifty or so feet back from the blaze, sitting on the rear bumper of an ambulance.

From here the clinic looked like a giant fountain of fire and smoke.

Another hand touched her shoulder as a blue suited paramedic began to check her over for injuries. He flashed a bright light into her eyes and flashed her a dissatisfied frown before moving on to check other things.

As he worked, Rita’s ears began to clear. She could hear the hiss of the water as it touched the flames and the sound of the firemen’s radios blathering on incessantly as they tried to coordinate their efforts.

“Miss? Can you tell me what’s happened here?” a voice from behind her was asking.

She looked over her shoulder, spotting her questioner. She stared blankly at the tall detective in the gray suit, unsure how to begin, then began to cry.

***********

KLTR 11 pm News:

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, our top story tonight is the massive fire that is still burning the Pacific Heights area Acidalia testing clinic.

On the scene at this time is our very own Terry Gail with this live report. …Terry…

“Thank you, Erin. This is Terry Gail, live here at the scene of this horrendous fire. As you can see behind me the building is completely involved at this point. Local fire fighters have had to call in additional help from units across the city as they try to bring this blaze under control before it can spread to neighboring buildings.

“According to reports we are getting from sources inside the emergency response services on the scene, it is believed that the clinic was filled with prospective Acidalia testing victims when the fire broke out. An unconfirmed statement was apparently given to our source by the only person known to have escaped the blaze. According to that individual, there could be as many as one hundred and seventy five people trapped inside.

“This is truly a tragedy of epic proportions, if that number turns out to be correct.

“The other rumor circulating around is the most chilling of all. Several Police officers have been heard by this reporter discussing the possibility this fire was purposefully set.

“While many groups have been mentioned as having reason to set the blaze, one persistent rumor is placing the blame squarely on the shoulders of none other than Reverend Morris Manning and a group of his followers. This again, according to rumor came from the unnamed survivor.

“Officials we have managed to question here on the scene are flat out denying that there is any chance of Manning’s involvement. However, here outside the police barrier, the story, fueled by the fact that the steel security curtains on the windows all appear to be closed, is gaining momentum by the minute.

“The curtains are supposed to be used to protect against vandalism while the clinic is closed and as we know, the facility was open when the fire broke out.

“Whether the rumors prove to be true, or some other person is to blame, one thing is for sure. This will go down as one of the deadliest fires in our city’s history.

On the scene in Pacific Heights, this is Terry Gail reporting.”

“Thank you Terry, for that on the scene report.

We here at KLTR have placed several calls to San Francisco Police Headquarters and the Mayor’s office, inquiring about any truth there may be to the Manning. While the Mayor’s office has yet to return our call, San Francisco Police spokes woman Sara Finney issued the following statement.

“We have no confirmation that Reverend Manning has moved his base of operations to the Bay Area. However, should the evidence show that he has indeed taken up residence in our fair city, he would find himself most unwelcome. If he is here, it will be this department’s highest priority to apprehend him and any of his followers, and prosecute them to the fullest extent of the law for any crime they commit here, or the ones they stand accused of back in Kansas.”

“We will continue to update this story throughout our broadcast as more details become available.

In other news…”

“El can you believe this? Do you think he’s really here?” Vera asked.

Ellie Wolf looked on, silently contemplating the news story. Behind and to her right, a large window revealed a small but bright glow to the west. It was undoubtedly the fire.

Getting up, Ellie walked over to the window and gazed out into the interrupted darkness, wondering just what Manning’s presence in the city would mean for the Sisters, if he was indeed here. The answer she kept coming up, with wasn’t a pleasant one.

Turning back to her friends, Ellie answered “I hope not, Vera. For everyone’s sake I hope he’s far away from here.”

“I think it’s a bunch of crap.” Jill chimed in. “The entire country is just in a panic over him. Yesterday on I saw on WWN, (cable channel World Wide News), that some farmer in Tuscaloosa said he saw him hiding in his barn. This was probably the work of that same group that was blowing clinics up the last couple of months.”

“I don’t know about that. This seems like a different M.O. (Modus Operand) than what they were using. Those people were attacking clinics, sure, but they were destroying property. For the most part, the facilities they attacked were deserted, or not open for business yet.” Nicole added.

“All of you. Quiet! I want to hear this.” Ellie said as she turned up the volume on the television.

“…the mounting problems for the Fuller administration.

“The White house was rocked today when reports began to surface from out of UCLA medical center in Los Angeles that Vice President Philip Nance has been diagnosed as being infected with the Acidalia virus.

“The Vice President, a California native, was in town this week for his yearly check up, as well as a meeting with several big name supporters of the President.

“According to sources within the medical center, Nance was at the hospital on Friday morning and was given a clean bill of health by Dr. Timothy Reagan. Sometime late Saturday night, the Vice President apparently took ill after meeting with several big money supporters of President Fuller. He was rushed back to the hospital and admitted at approximately 3:45am on Sunday. It was at the time he was diagnosed with having the Acidalia antibody present in his blood work.

“A statement was released from the White House early this afternoon … “President Fuller would like to pass on his most sincere sympathy to the Nance family and hopes for a speedy recovery for Vice President Nance. There has been no confirmation that VP Nance is indeed infected with Acidalia, and until there is medical evidence presented by his doctor to the administration, Philip Nance will continue to serve as Vice President for this administration.”

“What the fall out will be if it turns out the Vice President is infected, no one knows for sure. One thing is for certain though; if Nance is infected President Fuller will need to appoint a new VP.

“Adding to the administration’s woes, are the continuing rise of prices on all consumer goods, despite the government’s best efforts to stave them off.

“At a meeting of fifteen prominent economists on Wall Street today, dire predictions for the country’s economic future was the rule of the day. Some even went as far to predict that if the blockade isn’t dropped soon, that the entire economic structure of the United States would collapse in to ruin.

“These fears are not without foundation. Recent numbers on everything from new home starts to manufacturing orders are at record lows, with no upswing in site. With stockpiles of resources need for manufacturing new goods becoming depleted, it’s only a matter of time until wholesale layoffs and rampant unemployment become another sad fact of the virus’ spread, predicted several insiders.

“As if that wasn’t enough to pile on President Fullers plate, more reports of military defeats have been pouring in almost as fast as the number of Acidalia infected soldier’s increases.

“Canadian television is reporting at this hour that the United States attempt to take the city of Vancouver, British Columbia has fallen apart. Canadian forces, say the reports, are pursuing them back across the border between our two countries.

“The Pentagon has had no comment on the story as of this time, but we will bring you live coverage of any press conference discussing this issue that may be in our future, when it happens.

“There just seems to be no end to the bad news lately. Some prominent officials have begun to publicly question just how long President Fuller can continue to hold onto power if events continue to unfold the way they have of late. One prominent Democrat was even overheard saying that special elections may be in order somewhere down the line if the situation continues to deteriorate.

“In other parts of the world, the fallout from the withdrawal of American Military personnel continues to be felt.

“Israel today continued its preparations for all out war, as Arab forces from many of the nations in the region, including Iran and Syria, continue to build along the Lebanese border. Calls to the U.N for assistance in negotiating a peaceful solution have been defeated time after time in open session by the same forces arrayed against the Jewish state.

“It appalls me that these states would take advantage of the withdrawal of U.S. troops in this way,” Foreign Minister Maheed Rabaskie was quoted as saying. “However if they think we will go down without a fight, they are sorely mistaken!”

“On top of amassing troops, the Arab states have been accused of trying to cut off the small, country’s supply lines. Reports of Syrian military personnel confiscating truck loads of supplies, such as food and fuel bound for Israel have been streaming in for two weeks. Terrorist activity in most Israeli cities has reached a level not seen since the 6 days war in 1967.

“The Fuller administration has sent out a plea to all former allies to help settle the situation, but as of tonight, only England has pledged its support.

“Stay tuned for more developments as they happen.

****************

San Francisco Warehouse district, midnight, August 8th:

“I thought I’d find you still up here,” Nicole said as she walked across the second floor loft.

In front of the oversized windows that looked west out over the city, lost in thought and hugging herself as if to ward off a chill, stood Ellie. She had been up here for the last forty five minutes, staring at the far off glow of the clinic fire. The horror of it had so engrossed her; she didn’t even hear her best friend’s approach.

Nicole stepped up next to Ellie, startling her. As the diminutive leader put a hand to her breast to calm her heart, Nicole noticed the trails of dried tears streaking her friend’s face and asked, “El? Are you OK, hun?”

Ellie shook her head slightly. “All those poor people, dead … and for what? Because they might have Acidalia? He killed them for something they had no control over. Worse, he did it in the name of God!”

“It’s awful, horrible.”

“It’s worse than awful, it’s blasphemy! He murdered them … murder in the name of God, Nicole. Do you understand what that means?”

“It means he’s going to burn in hell when they catch him, and fry his ass just like everyone else that’s ever committed an atrocity in God’s name.”

“No, it means we have to stop him before he can spread his poison any further. With everything that’s going on now, with all the fear of the virus and all the crap the government’s been doing, his kind of hate is especially contagious. How long do you think it will be before someone else picks up his cause in some other part of the country? We need to put a stop to him NOW, before he becomes some kind of perverse celebrity and inspires others to kill more innocents.”

“Why us? Why can’t we let the cops do it? We have our hands full with a million other things right now, El, and going after him is going to mean pulling people off other projects.”

“The police? They have a million other things on their plate to deal with. At best they might be able to spare a handful of their people to look for him. This is going to require such an intense effort that they just don’t have the manpower for, but we do. God has put this before us. We must put a stop to it!”

Nicole sighed in resignation. If there was one thing everyone in the warehouse knew, it was not to argue with Ellie once she had made her mind up.

“You’re the boss.” She said. “How are we going to get to him? For that matter, how are we going to find him? I’m sure if he’s here …”

“He is.”

“OK! Fine, he’s here. But I’m sure he’s holed up in some little hidey hole somewhere. How are we supposed to smoke him out?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve been up here asking God’s guidance.”

“No answer yet, huh?”

“No.”

“Any chance that means he wants us to stay out of this?”

Ellie frowned. “No. This is what he wants us to do, I’m sure of it.”

Nicole nodded. She knew it was useless, but she needed to try one more time to persuade Ellie to pass on this idea.

“I know you’re sure about God wanting us to do this, hun, but I have to be honest with you. I think this is a very bad idea.”

“Nicole …”

“No, hear me out before you say anything else! Never mind the fact that this guy is a class “A” crazy son of a bitch, and he gets off on burning people like us alive. If we go after him, it’s going to put everything else we’re trying to accomplish at risk. It’s going to paint a huge target on all of us, not just by Manning and his people, either. It won’t be long before the police, or someone in the Government catches wind of what we’re doing. When that happens, what’s to stop them from coming down on us just as hard? As far as they’re concerned, we’re just as big of a threat as Manning and his people, maybe even bigger. If this is really what God wants us to do, you better be damn sure of it before we put everything we’ve accomplished up to now at risk.”

“Nicole, all that we’ve accomplished has been by God’s grace. We can’t claim responsibility for our successes, because they aren’t our successes, they’re hers. We haven’t done anything but do as she demands, and you’re right, this task might cause every other thing that we managed to come undone. It might even cost some of us our lives, but this is what God wants of us, just like everything else we’ve done so far. If we fail in doing this, she will appoint someone else to take over everything else we’ve been doing for us. Take no pride in our accomplishments, because they are not ours. Remember, we are here to serve her will.”

“Then as soon as she fills you in on the rest of the plan, come get me and we’ll get started.” Nicole realized she sounded more sarcastic than she meant to. She felt bad for the way her response came out, but couldn’t figure out how to take it back. Feeling like an ass, Nicole turned and walked towards the stairway, hoping to get away from Ellie before something more serious was said.

“Nicole?” Ellie called.

Yeah?” she replied stopping and turning back to her friend.

“I need to know that you’re with me on this.”

Nicole cocked her head to the side. “Of course I am. I’m just scared, El. This is very bad business, and I don’t have that direct line to God like you do to keep me reassured. And because of that, I have doubts sometimes and they make me question her. But you’re our leader and my closest friend. When I start to wonder what we’re doing, I put my faith in you to know what’s right.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For your faith in me and our mission.”

“Ellie, you’re my best friend. I trust you with my life. If you tell me this is what we need to do, then this is what we’ll do. I’m in for the long haul. Now get back to what you were doing. I’m going to get some sleep. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Goodnight, my friend.”

“Night,” the tall red head replied as she started down the stairs.

***************

Monday August 8
The White House, Oval office 10Am EDT:

“Mr. President, Mr. Carlyle is here.”

“Thank you, Magdalene. Send him in, please.”

Seconds later Davis Carlyle entered the room. Right away he could see Fuller was in a foul mood. Not that anyone could blame the President; leaks in the dike were popping up faster than the holes could be plugged.

Fuller looked up from whatever he was reading on his desk long enough to grumble, “Sit down!”

Davis did as instructed and waited patiently for his boss to speak again. After a few minutes of continued silence, he began to feel uncomfortable. “Was there something you wanted to see me for?” he finally asked.

Fuller looked up again with anger burning in his eyes. “I just got off the line with Blake. Can you believe this shit? Routed! We never even managed to secure the coast line, for Christ sakes!”

“I saw the report on the news last night. What are we going to do now?”

“Damned if I know. I got a call last night from Montclair. The son of a bitch is talking about declaring war on us over this, and the Alaska incident. Can you believe it…War? With Canada?”

“They really want a war?”

“That’s what they’re saying. Christ! That’s all we need right now. How could things have gotten so fucked up over there? Who the hell was in charge of planning this? I’ll tell you who! It was my so called military advisors. A shitload of good they did advising us on this one! What a fuckin’ mess!”

Carlyle sat quietly as his boss ranted. When he was finished, Fuller looked, if not calmer, at least momentarily deflated.

“Do we have the resources to fight it out with them if that’s what it comes to?” Davis asked.

“Not according to what Frank and the Joint Chiefs are telling me. Our military is stretched to the breaking point right now, they say. Add a war on top of everything else and we’re sunk worse than that sub the other day.”

“So how do we handle it?”

“I put a call into Mosbard this morning. I’m going to ask him to work as an intermediary so we can set up some kind of negotiations. What leverage we have to negotiate with I don’t know, but we need to keep from having to go to war for now.”

“He’s going to push for you to surrender to U.N control, you know.”

“I know that’ll be on the top of his agenda, and before you ask, no, I’m not going to surrender control of our government. But right now, I don’t see any other way out without having to ask for his help with this.”

Carlyle nodded his head in agreement. “When are you going to talk to him about it?”

“I put in a call over an hour ago. I’m just waiting to hear back from him.”

“He’s making you wait on him?”

“Seems like it.”

Carlyle was shocked. The head of U.N was essentially blowing off the President of the
United States … that really made a statement about how much things had changed over the last months since the outbreak. In days past, the Secretary General never would have been allowed to make a sitting President wait. If he was wrapped up in something when the call was made, at very least a message of apology would have been sent to Fuller, and Mosbard would have been on the phone the moment he was free. Now over an hour had gone by, and still no call back

“Have you heard anything else about Nance?” Davis asked, deciding to try to change the subject.

“He’s got the bug. He’s doing as well as can be expected, but obviously he’s not going to be able to resume his duties.”

“Any thoughts on who you’re going to nominate to replace him?”

Fuller let loose with a deep frustrated sigh. That was just another problem on top of the hundreds of others he didn’t have time to deal with right now, but it was one that would wait for long.

“Not yet. I’ve asked Greg Foster to compile a list of potential replacements. We’re supposed sit down for a few minutes tomorrow to go over it … if we can find the time.”

“I can sit down with him and look over the list, if you want me too.” Carlyle suggested. “I’ll work with him to eliminate the ones we definitely don’t want. Then we can get together and figure out who’s the best candidate from the names that are left.”

Fuller looked relieved.

“That’s a great idea. But I want to see a copy of the full list, too.”

“I’ll make sure you get a copy.”

“Good,” Fuller replied.

“Mr. President?” the intercom chirped.

“Yes, Magdalene?”

“Sorry to interrupt you sir, but Secretary Denning is here for your meeting on the economy, and Secretary General Mosbard is holding on line two for you.”

“Thank you Magdalene. Tell Greg to grab a seat out there, and put Mosbard through, please.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

The intercom clicked off.

“Do you want me to stay here?” Carlyle asked.

“No. I want to speak with him privately right now. Can you wait outside with the Greg, please? I’ll call you back in once we’re done,” Fuller stated as his desk phone began to ring.

“Of course,” Davis answered as he stood up and left the office.

Once in the reception area he turned to Magdalene and said “I need to run down to my office for a few minutes, in case he’s done before I get back.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him.”

“Thanks,” Carlyle replied as he walked out into the hallway.

Turning to the left, he strode purposefully down the hall. Bypassing the elevator that would take him downstairs to his office, the Chief of Staff headed to the Secretary of Defense’s office.

Pushing his way through the outer office door he asked without preamble “Is he in there?”

Blake’s secretary replied “He’s in a meeting with …” Davies didn’t let her finish as he pushed his way into the inner office.

Inside were Blake and Air Force General Cavalier. Blake looked up to see who was intruding on the meeting. Recognizing the Chief of Staff he said, “I’m in the middle of something here, Carlyle.”

“I don’t care. We need to talk …right now.”

Blake shot him a perturbed look. “General could you excuse us for a minute?”

“Certainly, sir. I’ll grab a cup of coffee and wait outside.”

“Thank you, General.”

The two Cabinet members watch the Air Force commander get up and leave. Once they were alone Blake asked, “OK, Davis, what’s the problem?”

“Do you know who Fuller is on the phone with right now?”

“Can’t say I do. But I get the feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“He’s talking to Mosbard about brokering some kind of peace agreement with the Canadians.”

“He’s what?” Blake asked angrily. “How could you let him do that?”

“How could I let him? How the hell was I supposed to stop him? He put in the call before I got there, and then tossed me out when Mosbard called back.”

“Shit!” Blake cursed. “This isn’t what we need right now.”

“No kidding. Why the hell did you tell him the truth about our troop levels?”

“It wasn’t me. It was King that told him. The man totally blindsided me. He called me last night and asked if I could arrange a meeting for him with the President. I couldn’t think of a good reason to deny him access, so I set it up for this morning at ten. I got to the office at about five of, and he was already in there, with Fuller getting an ear full about Vancouver. So when Fuller is finished ripping on him, King starts bitching up a storm about how stretched thin his Marines were. Telling him that the attack plan was flawed, that there wasn’t enough ground or air support, that it seemed like the Canadian’s knew exactly where we were going to attack. Then he starts rambling on about how the men were exhausted and were going to need some kind of downtime before too long. That the Marines weren’t set up to function as an auxiliary police force and having them in cities, trying to keep the population under control was probably doing more harm than good, never mind that they were losing hundreds of men a day to infection.

“After King finishes his little speech Fuller asks him, “Tell me straight, General, can we mount an effective defense if we have to go to war right now? King looks Fuller right in the eye and tells him flat out ‘No!’. My jaw hit the floor … I’m telling you, if I’d had a gun, I would have shot them both and saved us a lot of time and effort.

“So Fuller tells him thank you for your honesty, and dismisses the General. After King leaves, he turns on me and reams me out for the better part of an hour over why our assessment of our combat readiness is so much different than that of the men in charge of the military. ”

“What did you tell him?”

“I explained that I was only telling him what the numbers I had been supplied with led me to believe, and that I was going to look into what the truth of the situation was.”

“Damn it Frank, why did you even agree to let him meet with Fuller in the first place?”

“Because I couldn’t come up with a reason to deny him that wouldn’t look suspicious. In case you haven’t realized yet, what we’re doing has to create a public outcry as a result of the turn of events. Everything that happens needs to point to decisions he’s made, and not look like someone else has been pulling the strings. In an evolved democracy; we can’t simply force an elected president from power. Any change has to look legitimate to the public AND the military, or we won’t have the support we need to stay in power once it’s over.”

“I understand all that, but shit like this morning can’t be allowed to happen anymore. We need this war. It will go a long way towards destabilizing things here. From what I’ve been told, the rest of the Joint chiefs are still pretty pissed off about what happened to Alexander, and another poorly conceived battle plan might be enough to get them to join in with our little coup. It would certainly make things a lot easier if we had the military on our side from the beginning.”

“I know … I know. If he manages to talk Montclair out of fighting, we’ll just have to come with a way to circumvent whatever agreement they come to, without making it look like we’re undermining or outright disobeying him. I’m just not sure how yet. Anyhow, it’s not like we’re going to get Fuller out of office tomorrow. We just need to make sure it happens before the November elections come around.”

“If there’s an election in November, all our plans could be out the window. We can’t take the chance the public will actually reelect him.”

“I don’t see much chance of that happening, but if we all do what we’re supposed to be doing, then there won’t be any need for one will there?”

“No, there won’t be.”

“See? Now I’ll make sure to keep my people under wraps from here on. You need to get your name onto the list of replacement VP’s.”

“I already have that covered. I told the President that I’d meet up with Greg tomorrow and go over the list of replacements, so I’ll make sure I’m on the short list when Fuller sees it.”

“Think he’ll suspect that you added it yourself?”

“I don’t think it will raise too many flags. I’ll just come off like I’m surprised and flattered to be considered. That should be enough I think.”

“I hope you’re right. It could be bad for us if he gets suspicious.

“That’s why we’re being careful. Besides, with the way this damn bug keeps spreading, it wouldn’t surprise me if most of the other choices wound up infected long before they get the chance to be confirmed.”

************************

Thursday August 11 2:15pm PDT Reynolds:

Dr. Paula Stanley walked into the newly organized prenatal care unit housed in the deepest subbasement of the quarantine facility, four stories under the ground. It had taken a lot of work to construct the new facility and she felt a not so small sense of pride in the fact that it was as complete as any maternity ward in any of the top hospitals in the country, if not better. What it may have lacked in creature comfort, it more than made up for in quality of care, in her opinion. Of course she wasn’t one of those being impregnated against her will, but she liked to believe the inmates that had been, were appreciative all the hard work that had gone into creating this place for them.

The new area had been completed in secrecy and it had become a matter of necessity to keep those who had been inseminated as far away from the general population as possible. Paula couldn’t take the chance that anyone not involved would find out about this line of experimentation, at least not until it bore some positive fruit. In order to keep anyone from realizing that one of their cell mates had been assigned to the unit, Paula had recently instituted a policy of constantly moving inmates from cell to cell on a daily basis.

An amazing side effect of the virus was that it made artificial insemination much easier than usual. Some component made it possible for embryo’s to take at a much higher rate of success then had ever been achieved in born women. In a relatively short amount of time they had inseminated a total of twenty five women who were now in various stages of early pregnancy, and they had another eight scheduled for the next week. Paula hoped to have as many as one hundred fifty expectant mothers by the end of September.

Normally, all those infants crawling around at once would be a cause for concern, but the staff had already come up with a means for cleanly and painlessly disposing of the females who had been born without any physical enhancements. Males, if there were any and she feverantly hoped there would be, would receive an automatic pass.

Unfortunately so far, none of the male fetuses had been able to resist the virus in utero, but still Dr. Stanley remained committed to the project. She had plenty of time, and more virus victims than she knew what to do with, so a set back here and there wasn’t really much of an issue. She would just continue to genetically modify the embryos until she came up the right combination, one that was resistant to the virus.

Some on her staff had objected to her plan and accused her of treating the unborn baby’s like livestock on a farm. She had quickly silenced those voices by simply changing the results of their daily blood tests to positive, and sending them down into the cells with the rest of the infected. It didn’t thrill her to do it, but hard times needed hard people, and she was determined that her research would find a way to save humanity before it was too late.

As exciting as the research was, her biggest thrill came from the four specials she had impregnated. It was all she could do to remain patient as their baby’s gestated while she waited to see if their enhanced abilities passed on to the newborns. Chief among them was Thomas Logan. Hers was the offspring Paula was really waiting for.

Thomas was by far the most powerful of the small group that had special abilities Paula had access to. She hoped that the new woman’s offspring’s abilities would at very least equal her mother’s, if not surpass them. In an effort to bring that about, she had taken extra care to make sure the sperm donor was a physically superior specimen. It had taken some extra time and effort, but she was sure the end result would prove to be worth it.

“How’s our favorite patient doing today?” Dr. Stanley asked the tall, thin brown haired technician whose name she could never seem to remember, that sat at the monitoring station. As usual, she had to look at her name tag.

“Nothing’s changed since yesterday,” Sanders replied.

“No improvement with the Panderil then?”

“None. Fetal development is still lagging behind what it should be, and the baby’s heart rate continues to be much too slow. I think we’re going to have to face facts here. Keeping her sedated all the time is adversely affecting the experiment. If it continues she might spontaneously abort the baby.”

“Shit!” Paula spat. “We can’t have that. Have you tried reducing the dosage?”

“We’ve actually been gradually increasing it over the last twenty hours. The original dose wasn’t enough to keep her fully sedated. She came out of it at about 2:30 yesterday afternoon and managed to just about completely free herself from the restraints while still somewhat under the influence of the sedative. We got in there as quick as we could, but it was still quite a battle to get her locked down and back under. She put three security people in the infirmary before we could subdue her. I can’t imagine how much damage she could have done if she had been fully awake.”

“It would have been quite extensive. Believe me, I’ve seen her in action.” Paula picked up Logan’s chart from the desk and looked it over again.

The list of tranquilizers and sedatives they had tried was incredibly extensive. Every one that was available on the market, even some that hadn’t been fully approved for human usage yet, had been used at some point. More combinations and dosage strengths than Paula could count had been tried, but they all had adverse effects on the baby’s development. Paula’s frustration with the situation was beginning to reach the boiling point.

“Do you think we could effectively restrain her if we take her off the sedatives?” she asked.

“We could keep her down, but she’d fight. All that strain and stress on her body might prove to be just as bad as the drugs, if not worse.”

“Greeeaaat.” Stanly replied sarcastically.

“Doctor, I know this protocol is very important to you, but in this case, might it not be worth it to simply cut our losses with her and move on to one of the others? One that isn’t quite so violent?” Sanders proposed.

“It might be easier that way, but none of the others have the potential this one does. We need to do everything we can to see this through to the end. The resiliency her genetic makeup gives her might very well hold the key to our survival.” Paula replied.

“Dr. Stanly, please report to your office.” a disembodied, vaguely robotic sounding female voice called over the quarantine’s intercom system.

Paula looked up at the wall mounted unit with great irritation. She half considered ignoring the summons but knew they wouldn’t stop paging her until she at least checked in.

Looking back at Sanders she said “Keep looking for a way to keep her under without hurting the baby. I’ll be back later on to see what you’ve come up with.”

“I’ll do what I can. Just don’t get your hopes up too high,” she replied, as Stanly headed towards the elevators.

Paula silently fumed as she waited for the elevator and on the ride up to her office. She hated what she perceived as Sanders cavalier attitude and condescending tone. If she didn’t need his expertise so much, she probably would have thrown him into a cell with a few infectees by now. However she did need him, so as much as she hated him, she endured.

Rounding the corner and walking into the antechamber of her office, Paula was surprised to find three MP’s standing stiffly in front of the waiting room couch. While she didn’t know every soldier stationed at the facility by name she did know most of their faces. These three were either new, or from somewhere else. What they were doing here, was the real question.

“Carla? What’s going on? Someone was looking for me?”

“Yes doctor. I’m sorry to have bothered you, but Colonel Jordon is inside your office waiting for you.”

“Inside? Who let him in there?” the short fat doctor asked suddenly very worried.

“He let himself in, doctor.”

“How …how long has he been in there?”

“For some time now.”

“And you didn’t call down to the lab to tell me he was here?”

Carla looked up at her boss sheepishly. “He told me not to call you.”

As she felt her face go flush with anger. It was all Dr. Stanly could do to bite her tongue and not take her fury and indignation out on Carla. That was her office, and Carla was her secretary. Who was Jordon to enter it without permission and order her not to be informed?

Paula turned from Carla and stormed through her office door. Inside Jordon was sitting behind her desk looking at something on her computer monitor. The sight was enough to add a splash of fear to Dr. Stanley’s fury. The computer held information on just about every project going on at the quarantine. If he had somehow managed to break the encryption … well she just didn’t want to think about that possibility.

Before she could say word Jordon looked up at her and said “Dr. Stanley, good. Sit down doctor. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes we do, Colonel. Just what is this about? How dare you barge into my office and snoop around my computer?” Paula said, trying to sound more angry than scared as she moved toward the back of the desk, but Jordon made no move to get up.

She stood there for several impatient moments waiting. Jordon still made no move to relinquish the chair, and Paula found herself forced to walk back to the front and plant her bloated butt into one of the small, rigid, purposefully uncomfortable chairs she usually reserved for her underlings. She seethed as she tried to make find a way to sit comfortably.

“Do you have any idea how much of a pain in my ass you’ve been since taking over as administrator here?” Without waiting for an answer, Jordon continued. “Now I understand a great deal of the problems in this facility existed long before you took over, and there isn’t much blame I can lay on you there. However you haven’t done much in the way of correcting any of those issues either.” He paused for a moment. “As much of a problem as the Major was becoming and he was on his way out one way or another, security was never an issue while he was in command. Under your predecessor no one would have been able to smuggle a camera in here, and if they did by some miracle manage to get one past security, you can bet your life than none of the pictures would have ever been allowed to get out into the public view.”

“I …I” Stanly stuttered not really knowing what she intended to say.

“Don’t!” Jordon told her sternly as he held up his hand. “I’ve been looking over the files on your computer. You’ve been holding out on me again! I can’t even begin to tell you how upset that makes me doctor.”

“Holding out?” Paula said trying to figure out what exactly he was talking about.

“Yes doctor, holding out. It’s come to my attention through the ongoing investigation that your incompetence made us begin, that you have been withholding information that could prove vital to several other efforts the government and the military are currently involved in. I have to say I’m extremely disappointed. I’ve been working my ass off to cover yours and you’ve been doing everything you can to make my job next to impossible.”

“Colonel, please believe me when I tell you that I’ve done nothing to purposely hinder the investigation or to make life difficult for you. Perhaps if you told me what exactly you think I’ve been holding back from you, then maybe we can get this little misunderstanding worked out and get back to working on finding a cure.”

Jordon let out a humorless laugh. “Little misunderstanding? You’re just too funny doctor. You should be on TV with lines like those. You’d make a fortune,” he told her, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

It was all Paula could do to sit there and listen to him mock her. However he was her superior, and she had no choice but to take whatever abuse he wanted to dish out to her. Her initial nervousness had given way to full blown fear, spiced with an edge of confusion, and a little bit of intimidation thrown in for good measure.

“Your gift for sarcasm aside, Colonel, I still don’t know what you think I’m hiding from you.” Stanley told him, trying not to sound as scared as she really was.

“No idea, huh? Well let me explain it to you. I have had my people going over all the records on each and every computer in this place. We’ve uncovered quite a bit of information that we were previously unaware of. Most of it was incidents that Major Brady either authorized or condoned, so there isn’t much blame to lay at your feet there. However one section that was recently uncovered showed that you were and continue to be involved in covering up.”

“What would that be, Colonel?” Paula asked starting to get impatient with the way Jordon was drawing it out.

“According to records taken from your computer, you discovered some time ago that certain individuals have gained enhanced physical abilities as a result of the virus. It also says you’ve been conducting experiments on them to test the limits of those abilities.”

“Y … yes we’ve also been trying to find the genetic mechanism that creates them. I feel …”

“I don’t give a shit what you think or feel! Your experiments stop now, Doctor. I want everyone on this list transferred to Grayson by this afternoon! Furthermore, in the future any other individuals that show signs of enhancement will also be transferred to Grayson as soon as they are identified. Do you understand me, Doctor?”

“Colonel, I don’t see why they need to be moved out of here. We have much better testing facilities here than there are at Grayson labs.”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion or if you had any comments. Find them, and ship them to Grayson. That’s all you need to do. What happens after that is none of your concern.”

“But …”

“I am not here to debate you, Madam. Do as I tell you, or I will have you replaced with someone that will!”

Paula opened her mouth again to argue, but realized the futility of it. In a more conciliatory tone she asked “May I see your list, Colonel?”

Jordon shoved the list at her from across the desk.

Paula began to read over the names. All were known to her since she’d been doing her best to push their various abilities to the limits for months now. Some had even been pushed beyond what they could do. Luckily, their names had been deleted so there was no reason for her to have to explain why she wouldn’t be able to produce them now. If nothing else, life in the quarantine made it easy to make people disappear.

She was also quite pleased to see that there were half a dozen names that they had somehow missed. Apparently their search of the records wasn’t as extensive as Jordon believed. Paula made a mental note to make sure to remove them from the data base as soon as Jordon left.

Dr. Stanley didn’t want to give any of her prizes up, but Jordon had left her no choice. If handing them over would make Jordon believe that she going to cooperate fully from here on in, then that’s what she would do. Regaining the Colonel’s trust was the priority now.

She briefly considered giving Jordon one of the names that his people had missed but then decided that would only invite closer scrutiny. ‘No, better to let him think he’s got all of them and then trickle a few lesser enhanced ones to him here and there from now on.’

“Your people did their homework very well. It looks like they got them all.” Paula told him as she put the sheet back down on the desk. “When should I have them ready for transport?”

“I want all of them at Grayson by this afternoon.” Jordon told her sternly.

“That might prove to be very difficult. It will take me that long just to track all these names down.”

“Fine. By tomorrow, then. And doctor, they had all better be there. I don’t want to hear about any accidents, or anything like that. Do you understand me?”

Paula nodded.

“Good. I want you to understand that if I find out that you’re hiding anything else from me … and I mean anything, I’ll have you removed and brought up on charges. We’ve uncovered plenty of violations here that the investigation committee would love to know about, so it’s time for you to start playing like you’re part of our the team. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Colonel. We’re very clear.”

“Fine. Now I have other matters to attend to, so I’m going to leave you to getting these people ready for transport.”

“I’ll have them ready for transfer in the morning.”

“Be sure you do,” Jordon told her.

As soon as he was gone, Dr. Stanly got up and walked behind her desk. She plopped down in her chair and picked the list up off the desk and looked it over again. She huffed with disappointment. Some of the names were her among her most prized test subjects. It was going to set her research program back considerably without them.

Her only relief was that Jordon hadn’t found Logan or any of the others that were scheduled for insemination. That would leave her with a total of fifteen, including the three names his people had missed.

‘Not nearly enough for what I planned to do. Oh well I guess we’ll just have to use some of them in multiple tests.’ she thought to herself as she turned to her computer.

Dr. Stanly retrieved the list of all the specials who had been cataloged since their existence was first were discovered. She quickly jotted down notes on where each one Jordon’s list was located, then changed the status of the rest to deceased.

That done, she stepped out into the reception area. Handing the list to her secretary she said “Have security round everyone named on this list and have them ready to travel by morning.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Carla replied.

For a moment, she considered having them toss Carla into a cell while they were at it, but something made her decide against it for now. Instead, the portly head of the facility turned and walked back into her office.

**********

Fairfax Virginia 9pm EDT:

The small crack of glare-filled lamp light from the hallway beyond her tiny room, or cell, depending on whether you were stuck inside of it or out, made her eyes sting as the door was opened just enough to slide in a small tin plate half filled with food. The metal rattled loudly against the cold concrete floor before settling.

As always, before she could even think about moving, the metal clad solid wood door slammed closed with a loud thud, and she was plunged into near total darkness again.

The door had been open just long enough for her to see where the plate landed. Taking a moment to allow her eyes to readjust to the gloom, Gail stood up and carefully shuffled along the wall until she reached the door.

This had been her routine since her arrival here, wherever ‘here’ was. It had become the only way she was able to mark the passage of time. Every second time the door opened marked a new day. Of course that was assuming Philip was allowing her to be fed twice a day, which certainly wasn’t guaranteed.

By her count it had been twelve so far, or at least that seemed like a good number. For all she knew, it might have been twenty four or more, but she couldn’t allow herself to believe it had been that long, because if it was, then things were worse than she already believed them to be, so she stuck stubbornly with twelve.

Not that what day it was, or how long they had kept her locked down here really mattered anymore. She was never going to be allowed to leave this place again. That she knew for sure. Once Philip and his crew got hold of Dr. Ryson, and they made Gail kill her on tape like they wanted her to, that was going to be it.

Philip had taken great pleasure in telling her repeatedly and in exquisite detail on their trip across the country exactly how he wanted things to play out. He talked so confidently that Gail almost believed he had somehow seen the future.

She knew that it was just one of the tactics he was using to break her will to resist. She also understood the reason for her imprisonment in the dark was a further attempt to break her spirit. The limited food and lack of contact was intended to make her willing to do whatever she was instructed when the time came. For the first few days it had seemed as if Philips plan was going to work too.

She had been so scared and hungry, lost in the perpetual blackness that she thought she was going to lose her mind. However she had found one thing to hold on to. The one thing she needed to keep her mind focused her hatred of Philip. It burned so brightly that it kept her from falling into the black madness that threatened to consume her.

It wouldn’t matter if she was in here for another day or another year. It wouldn’t even matter if they got their hands on Dr. Ryson or not. As soon as she was brought back into the light, Gail was going to kill Philip.

The thought of the surprised look on his face as she killed him any number of ways kept her warm when she went to sleep, whenever that was. She understood it would be a one time opportunity and she had to stay on her toes so when it came she wouldn’t blow it. All she needed to do was be patient and keep her wits about her.

****************

Friday August 12 10am PDT San Francisco Warehouse district:

Wanted fugitive Warren Quinlan sat quietly in his small red curtained and 2X4 walled room, reading a magazine article that posed a series of questions as to whether the United States would be able to survive its current menagerie of problems, or if it was destined to succumb to them.

It was a common theme in the media these days, being pushed incessantly down the throats of the public. The issue might actually deserve the amount of attention it was receiving if the purpose of the debate was to offer legitimate solutions to the country’s ill’s and not just the easiest way to sell news papers and magazines or increase television ratings. Most writers, editors and reporters seemed to stand stubbornly by the opinion that the country would not only survive, but prosper, once the government got a handle on everything despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

National newspapers and television networks went to great lengths to validate the theory that it was only a matter of time until the Fuller administration got the situation under control. So vehement was their presumed faith in the government, that it almost seemed as if they were being paid to advance the administration-backed rosy outlook for the future.

To anyone with half a brain and a pair of eyes, that was willing to give it more than a moment’s thought, the farce would have been incredibly funny if it wasn’t so transparent and insulting.

The tone of this article was upbeat, and to his mind unrealistic. Still, Warren found himself enjoying it and being able to simply take some time to kick back and to relax. After the weeks of running, it was sheer bliss to not have to look over his shoulder every five seconds. Though he was still a bit hesitant to admit it to himself, for fear of it turning out to be a dream, this place felt like home.

The Sisters had not only taken him in without much in the way of questions, but had been decent enough to give him his own small area secluded from the rest of them. Of course that had as much to do with their modesty as anything else, but still, it was his spot, safe from those that were still looking for him, and he appreciated their generosity.

His initial meeting with the leader of this not so little troop of Acidalia victims had been a truly remarkable experience. Ellie Wolf exuded an uncanny combination of peace, confidence, and power, the like of which he had never experienced before. He had never in his life felt so comfortable with someone he had just met.

At first, his comfort with Ellie made him wonder if somehow the Sisters had done something to his mind, thinking perhaps it was something in the water or the food they fed him that made him so willing to accept her at face value, but after talking to a couple others immediately after their arrival, after their first meeting with Ellie he realized that she had the same effect one everyone. The other newcomers had been just as amazed with her. There was something about Ellie that just made you want to help out. Even her claims of being on a mission from God, which from anyone else would sound like a total crock, especially to a confirmed atheist like Warren, seemed completely reasonable.

After five minutes with her it was easy to see why she was the undisputed leader here, despite her diminutive size and soft spoken ways.

A knock on the 2X4 that made half of the makeshift doorway into his room pulled his attention from the article.

“Yes?” he responded.

The smiling face of Roberta Goings, one of the two resident doctors that lived here appeared in the entrance way. Warren had met her on a couple of occasions since his arrival, and found her to be quite pleasant, not to mention very attractive. The way she carried herself made it hard for him to believe Roberta had been born Robert, and not lived her entire life as a woman.

“Good morning, Mr. Quinlan. How are we doing this fine morning?”

“Please, Doctor, call me Warren, and I’m good, thank you for asking. To what do I owe the pleasure of a personal visit?”

“I was talking to Ellie this morning after breakfast and she asked me to have you come over to the clinic area so I could check you out.”

“She wants you to check me out, huh? I think I could handle that,” he replied with a wink and an impish grin.

Roberta blushed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh sure, shatter my little fantasy into a billion little bits,” he said, trying to sound wounded. “So why does Ellie want you to check me out?”

Roberta rolled her eyes at his tone, while smiling inwardly. As she did, she tried to come up with a gentle way to put Ellie’s concern. After a few ticks of the clock, with no tactful speeches coming to mind, she pushed on. “There’s really no good way to say this, so I guess blunt will have to do.”

“If you say so, Doc. Hit me!” He was still smiling.

His broad smile flirtatious made her grin back self consciously. “She’s curious why you’re still male. You’ve been exposed to more infected people in the last few days than most men are in a month, and as far as we can tell, you’ve remained completely unaffected. She’d like me to run some tests on you to see if we can find out why.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing. What are you going to do if I don’t change? Put me back out on the street or something?” Warren asked only half joking.

“No. Of course not, you silly boy, you’re one of us now. You’re more than welcome to stay for as long as you like. Just like you’re free to leave any time you want to. No one is a prisoner here. Like I said she just wants me to run a few tests. If you don’t want to do them, no one is going to force you. The choice is yours, though Ellie will probably come down and ask you herself if you refuse.”

“And if that happens, I’ll wind up getting them done anyhow.”

“Probably. She can be very persuasive.”

“You can say that again. I have to admit I’ve never met anyone like her.”

“I don’t think there is anyone else like her. She’s unique. Anyhow, I need you to come by whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m not doing much of anything at the moment. If you have the time I can come down now. That is, if you don’t mind escorting me down there.” he said adding flirtatious wink.

Roberta tried to suppress the goofy grin she felt forming on her face and failed miserably. Though she didn’t understand why he that effect on her, she had to admit she liked it and him. Blushing, she extended her hand and helped him to his feet.

Moments later the two of them were walking through the vast, though today, mostly deserted warehouse to the lab area.

“Where is everyone?” he asked.

“Most of the girls are over at your old stomping grounds. They’re trying to get it cleaned up so we can move the clinic over there. Mia’s supervising it. The rest are off doing this or that. A few are out looking for more housing, and the rest are off recruiting, I’d guess.”

“Recruiting?”

“Yes. That’s what we call it when we go and hand out fliers at testing facilities.”

“You guys actively recruit new members?”

“I wouldn’t say that. We offer asylum to anyone that doesn’t want to wind up in a quarantine. I don’t think that qualifies as active recruitment.”

“Doesn’t sound like it to me, either,” he replied.

The two of them walked in silence for a few seconds before Warren spoke again.

“Do you mind if I ask you a semi-personal question?”

“Semi-personal?” she laughed at the way he put it. “Sure, why not.”

“I was just wondering if it was hard for you.”

She looked at him confused. “Is what hard for me?”

“What happened to you, I mean. Is it hard for you living as a woman now?”

“No. Not for me, anyhow. I know a lot of the others have problems adjusting to what’s happened, but I don’t.”

“Really? You like it?”

“At first I didn’t. I was as pissed off and scared shitless as anyone else, but I had my work and my patients to worry about so I was able to avoid dwelling on what happened by focusing on their needs. In a way, I used them to hide from the truth a bit, but being so busy helped me get past the initial shock of what had happened. Over time I came to accept it and found that it wasn’t so bad being a woman. After that, I started to really enjoy being female. This body is me now, and I wouldn’t change it back to what I was before for anything, even if it was possible. Which by the way, it isn’t, so what good is getting upset about it going to do?”

“You’re an amazing woman, Doctor. And by the way, that is a great body you have and I wouldn’t want you to change it either,” he added admiringly.

“Mr. Quinlan, are you flirting with me?” she feigning shock.

Warren simply smiled at her. “Anyhow …” he continued after a brief silence, “you were a doctor before all this started? Did you work around here?”

She smiled back.

‘God I could look at that smile all day long.’ he thought to himself. A small part of him wondered if he should really be so interested in her considering what she had once been. But the more he thought about her, the more he found that didn’t matter that she had been a man before becoming infected. She was the most beautiful woman that he had ever known. He enjoyed talking to her and spending time with her, even if it increased his chances of becoming infected.

“Yep. I worked over at City Hospital for fifteen years before all this.”

“Fifteen years? That can’t be. You don’t look old enough to have been a professional anything for fifteen years.”

“Let’s just say I’m older than I look, and leave it at that.”

“Aww come on, tell me. I promise to keep your secret.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you keep in the metal box you carry around with you everywhere you go?” she said, changing the subject.

Warren looked at her suspiciously for a moment, then said, “That’s my proof.”

“Proof?”

“Before the military and the government announced that they were pinning that whole mess at the station on me and George …” The mention of his coworker and supposed coconspirator’s name made his eyes mist up for a moment.

Roberta squeezed his hand reassuringly. The moment passed, and he continued, “I grabbed a copy of the booth tape from that day. It’s the director’s view, so it has the five different camera angles we always used on it.”

“What does it show?”

“The truth of what really happened. It has all the audio of the army commander ordering her to stop speaking, and the video of that soldier shooting her. Everything I need to clear my name, if they ever catch me.”

“You’ve had this with you all this time? Why didn’t you show it to anyone?”

“Who was I going to show it to? There was no one that I could take the chance of trusting. They kept my family and every friend that I had under constant surveillance, even tapped their phones. Everyone else in the country was looking for me. They told them I was this terrorist. I was afraid that no one would believe me, and that they would call the cops the second I showed my face. So rather than risk getting captured and tortured until I confessed to something I didn’t do, like they did to George, I kept it with me just in case. It might sound strange, but that little case, and the hope it represented might have been the only reason I survived the first few days on the run. There were so many times I just wanted to give up. Times I would have traded my soul for a hot shower in a warm jail cell. But I owed it to Wanda and George to stay free and find away to get them for what they did to both of them.”

His story, and the pain in his voice over what had happened was almost enough to bring Roberta to tears. She found herself caring very deeply for Warren even though they hadn’t known each other very long.

“Would…would you be okay with it if I told Ellie about the tape? I think she’d be very interested in what was on it.”

“I guess so.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, tilting her head to look him right in the eye.

“Yes.”

“Ok. Good, then you don’t mind me telling her.” Looking up they saw the heavily curtained off lab area was in front of them.

Warren marveled at the way her attitude changed as soon as they entered the makeshift hospital. Roberta’s posture straightened. Her voice suddenly had a very professional tone to it and her face wore a concerned but neutral expression.

They walked over to one of the small curtained off examining rooms. Once inside she said “Ahh we’re here. Would you take off you shirt and hop up on that table for me?”

“Any time, Doc.” he flirted again.

Once again his flirtation broke through her professional attitude for a moment and brought an impish grin to Roberta’s face. “OK, enough of that. It’s time to be professional now. I can’t poke and prod you effectively if you’re constantly distracting me.” She gave him a wink of her own. “I mean, you wouldn’t want me to have to do all this over again would you?” She held up the biggest syringe and needle combination she could find and showed it to him.

“Umm …I think I’ll just keep my mouth shut now so you can do your thing.”

“Good boy,.” She patted him on the head like a dog.

*************

Three hours later:

Mia and sat in front of the lap top computer they used in the lab, looking over Warren’s test results.

The former head of the CDC’s Acidalia contingent looked at the long chart of numbers and symbols, but her mind refused to stay focused on them. Instead, she found herself remembering the day Nicole and the others had returned with the suspected terrorist in tow to the warehouse they now all called home.

As soon as Nicole’s group had arrived that evening with him, there had been a flurry of murmurs throughout the residence. Everyone knew who he was. They should have, at least considering how much time his face had spent plastered on television screens across the country. Though no one could quite understand why he had been brought here, everyone had either a theory, or an opinion on the matter, it seemed.

When it was announced a few hours later that he was going to be staying there with them for a while, Mia wondered if the military had actually been right about this group posing a huge threat to the stability of country. She hadn’t been alone in her outrage, either. She heard several others questioning Ellie’s decision, but none were willing to go up and tell her how they felt about the situation.

Mia had taken it upon herself to speak for them. What had started as a civilized conversation had quickly degenerated into a loud argument that didn’t do anything to enhance her standing among the Sisters. No matter the result, Mia felt compelled to speak her mind, and there wasn’t a soul in the complex that didn’t know where she stood when it was over.

“Are you crazy? Don’t you know what he’s done? You know, never mind that. Do you know how many people are looking for him, and what will happen if they find him here? How can you let him stay?” she had practically screamed.

“Yes, Doctor. I am well aware of who he is, and what he has been accused of, but I spoke to him at great length this evening and I have decided to allow him to stay.” Ellie had replied calmly, but with a not so subtle hint of exasperation.

“How can you put us all in jeopardy? If the police find out he’s here, it could be disastrous.”

“That’s why no one can tell them, Doctor! He has told me he did not do what they say he did. I believe him, so he stays. If I thought he was lying, I’d have turned him over to the police, but his eyes say he’s telling the truth.”

“I can’t believe you people sometimes. You’d put all this in jeopardy because he “says” he didn’t do it.”

“Yes Dr. Blue, that is exactly what I am doing. I appreciate your concerns and I’m glad to see that you feel comfortable enough to lend your voice to the decision making process. Believe me when I tell you that I give your opinion great merit. In this case however, I have made my decision, and he stays.”

Mia had thrown her hands up into the air in frustration. She knew from experience that any more arguing would be fruitless. Once Ellie pronounced something around here, it was law. That should have terrified Mia, and in a small way it did. But the small woman projected such an incredible sense of inner peace and strength that it made you accept her word.

A new set of test results flashed up on the screen, bring her attention back to the present. She looked closely at the conclusion drawn up by the program that had been analyzing the blood sample. “This can’t be right,” she said with concern.

“What’s wrong? What can’t be right?” Dr. Goings asked

“These results. They can’t be right.”

“Why can’t they? What does it say?” she asked, stepping over to the computer.

Mia pointed to the screen “Read for yourself, and tell me what they say to you. Maybe I’m more tired than I realize and my mind is gone.”

Roberta read the screen. Her mouth popped open in surprise, mirroring Mia’s, when she got to the final line in the analysis.

“Negative?”

“Looks that way. He’s been here what … a week now … a little more? Breathing the same air as the rest of us, and he shows no sign of infection, not even a sign of antibodies. I don’t understand how that can be.”

“You’ve got me stumped. I dealt with hundreds of cases when I was at City, and none of them were able to resist prolonged exposure. As a matter of fact, we had to change the way our testing facility was set up because we found that people were catching the bug while they were sitting in the waiting room for their turn to be tested. How many times did the computer rerun the test for verification?”

Mia tapped on the key board. After a moment she said “According to the log, it was verified three times.”

“Not much chance of an error there then.”

The two women stood silently, staring at the test results, trying to figure out what they could mean.

“You don’t think this could mean that he’s immune, do you?” Roberta asked, her face suddenly lighting up at the thought of the possibility

“Whoa Berta … hang on a second here. Immune? Let’s not start jumping the gun that far yet. OK? I’d say it’s far more reasonable to say that he is unusually resistant to this point for whatever reason.”

“Isn’t that splitting hairs?”

“Not really. Not when it comes to this kind of thing. For all we think we know about this little bastard of a bug, we really don’t know much of anything in reality. We’ve spent so much of our time trying to kill it, that no one has had the opportunity to look into finding answers to most of the really big questions yet.” Mia began ticking off questions on the fingers of her hand.

“How does it change a person in ways that should be impossible? Everything we know about genetics says that the transformation should kill everyone that gets infected, just like cancer, but the vast majority not only survive, but come out of it in better health than they had before they caught it.

“Why does the time it takes to make the genetic changes vary so much? Is it just because everyone is different, or is there another reason behind it?

“Why are some left awake to suffer, while others simply sleep through the process? How many variations of the virus are there? Is it just the two we’ve named, or are there thousands of subtle differences? These are all things we don’t have the foggiest idea about. So you’ll forgive my skepticism about Mr. Quinlan being immune.

“We don’t even know if it’s possible for someone to be immune. Since it basically rewrites our genetic code from the ground up, how would someone be immune to that? And if you were resistant, wouldn’t it eventually write that resistance out?”

Roberta sat thoughtfully for a moment, taking in Mia’s speech. “You’re right, of course; we need to do a lot more testing, and there is so much we don’t understand. Maybe we never will, either, or maybe I’m just plain wrong, but just think what it would mean if he is.”

“For the rest of the world it would be akin to everyone hitting the lottery at once if it led to a cure, or at least a vaccine to prevent further infection. For Warren, it would mean being turned into a lab rat. There would be no end to the poking and prodding and God knows what else he’d go through until someone either figured out why he was immune or he died from one of their tests.”

“Not if we keep him here with us.”

“Roberta, how would you do that? Do we even have the right to? Say for argument’s sake that you’re right, he is immune; would it be fair to the rest of the world to keep him here hidden? Would it be ethical? Could you deny everyone else out there the chance for a cure just to save one person?”

“I … I don’t know. Knowing him personally adds extra complications to the equation. Anyway, it would be Ellie and Warren’s decision to make if it came to that, not mine or yours. Speaking of which, we should tell her what we’ve found.”

“Tell her? Tell her what? That he’s virus free and we don’t know why? It would be foolhardy to say anything to anyone until we know more.”

“But she’s the one that suggested testing Warren in the first place. She must have been suspicious of something. Maybe she even suspected something like what we’ve found. Either way, she’s going to expect me to tell her something.”

“Tell her the tests were inconclusive. Tell her we need more time. Tell her whatever you want, but it would be a mistake to raise her hopes right now.”

“Mia, I can’t lie to her.”

“But you wouldn’t be lying. We don’t know what these results mean yet. What if you go and tell her that he might be immune, and tomorrow he starts coming down with it?”

“Then I would tell her I was wrong. There’s no reason to keep anything from her. If you were truly one of us, and here for the reasons you say, then you’d understand that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that while I appreciate your help, and all the things you’ve taught me, I don’t completely trust you. You act outside of us, like you have your own agenda or some other interest. Everyone can see it.”

“My only agenda or interest is helping those people in there.” Mia replied sourly as she pointed towards the sick ward behind where they stood.

“We know your concern for their health and safety is genuine. No one questions you on that, but there’s something else going on with you, too. Something you’re not telling us, and that makes everyone suspicious of your motives. If you’d just come clean …” Roberta let the end hang.

She could see the sting her words carried etched in Mia’s face. She suddenly felt bad for saying them. This hadn’t been the time or the place for this discussion.

In a conciliatory tone she continued, “Look I hope I’m wrong about you. I hope that you are exactly what you say you are. And if you are, then I will be the first to apologize, but when you say things like keep it from Ellie, that just makes me wonder.”

“Keep what from me?” another voice said from behind them, startling them both. The two women turned their heads in unison to see Ellie and Vera standing in the entrance way.

“Nothing El. Dr. Blue and I were just debating the results of the tests you asked me to perform on Warren.”

“That I could tell. But I’ll ask again, what did she want to keep from me?” Ellie was eyeing Mia suspiciously.

“First of all, I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you. Mr. Quinlan’s results came through as virus negative. Roberta suggested it may mean that he’s somehow immune. I thought it was premature for her to say anything. She didn’t agree with me. Thus our discussion.”

“Roberta, do you think he’s really immune?”

“Maybe. The tests indicate there is a possibility he is.”

“Well, that’s certainly exciting news.”

“Hold on a minute. Before you start getting too excited about the prospect, I have to tell you that we need to run a lot more tests.” Mia was holding her hand up. “All we have right now is a theory that may or may not pan out. Only time will tell us for sure.”

Ellie looked at Roberta. “What do you say, Berta? Do you agree with Dr. Blue’s assessment?”

Roberta nodded. “Yes. If he goes another couple of weeks and he hasn’t come down with it, then we might have something more solid to base our suspicions on.”

“Then we’ll wait until you’re sure before we discuss the possibility any further.”

“There’s something else we need to discuss, too. I know you’re not big into keeping secrets from each other around here, but I think we need to keep this just between the four of us for now. It would be incredibly dangerous if word got out, not only for Warren, but the rest of us too. If they found out, the government would stop at nothing to get him into Grayson or some other lab and do whatever it takes to find out why he’s immune.”

“Yes I agree. No one outside this room and Mr. Quinlan can know what the doctors suspect until they have proof one way or the other. Even then, we will still need to discuss just who else is to be told. Remember, there is a man’s life is at stake here.”

“Agreed,” Mia said. Looking over at the clock on the desk she saw it was time to do rounds. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some patients that I need to attend to.”

“Do you need any help doctor?” Vera asked.

Ellie and Roberta each raised a surprised eyebrow at her offer.

Even Mia looked as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard Vera correctly. However she recovered quickly, saying “I’m sure I can find something for you to do if you’re volunteering.”

The two women walked out of the lab and into the infirmary.

Once inside, and out of earshot, Vera grabbed Mia’s arm and pulled her aside. “You have to report this, you know!”

“What are you talking about?”

“To that soldier guy, Tyler. He’ll want to know about this.”

Mia shot Vera a stern look. “What I report, and what I don’t report is of no concern to you. Why are you even bringing that up here, of all places? The others already don’t trust me. Are you trying to get me caught?”

“No. Not at all. Tyler told I had to help you, and that part of helping meant making sure you reported anything that would be of interest. This certainly falls under that category, so you have to let him know about it. If you don’t, then I’m going to have to.”

“Why? Why would you betray your friends like that? You’re a one of them. They took you in and made you part of their family, such as it is. Ellie treats you like a sister. What would make you betray her like that?”

“I … I have to make sure you do as they told you to. If I don’t, it will be very bad for everyone, especially Ellie. I have to do what I can to protect her, even if it means disobeying her.”

Mia was surprised to see the flash of sincere terror that crossed Vera’s face when she mentioned Tyler’s name. Not for the first time, she wondered just what Tyler had done to the short fat new woman while she was in his custody. As much as she was loath to admit it, there was a large part of Mia that was glad that she didn’t know.

“You have nothing to worry about Vera. I’ll make my report when we know for sure. Ok?”

“Just make sure you do doctor.”

*********

At the same time in the lab area:

“I cannot figure that woman out anymore!”

“Who?” Roberta asked wondering silently if anyone truly ever understood either of them.

“Vera. She acts so … strange around Dr. Blue, like she’s afraid of her or something. And now she offers to help look after the patients? Odd.”

“Have you asked her about it?”

“More times than I can count. She says she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t know what to say. I don’t pretend to know how Vera Lynne’s mind works. I did have something else I wanted to talk to you about though.”

“You did? Well then, Doctor what can I do for you?”

“You know that box that Warren has? The metal one?”

“Yes. I think I’ve seen it.”

“He told me today that it contained a director’s view tape of what happened at KLTR the day the news woman was shot.”

“It does? Now that’s interesting. Why hasn’t he said anything about it to anyone else, I wonder.”

“When I spoke to him, I got the impression that he wasn’t sure whether to trust us or not.”

“And now he’s changed his mind?”

“Well, when I asked what was in the box, he told me, so I’d that guess he has.”

“You’re quite taken with him, aren’t you?

Roberta blushed at the unexpected question. “I … I … ummm … I like him and enjoy being with him, so maybe. I’m not really sure to be honest. I don’t have a lot of experience with romance from the female perspective, but he does make me feel nice and warm inside.”

Ellie smiled good naturedly at Roberta’s obvious embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to put the doctor on the spot, and found how easily the question flustered her very telling and amusing.

“From what I’ve seen, he seems smitten with you. It’s good that he believes he can trust you. Hopefully he will come to trust the rest of us just as much. In the meantime, I’d like you to continue to spend time with him. He needs a friend right now, someone that he’s comfortable being with and feels he can talk to, especially if he is immune. There will be some very tough decisions to ask if he is. Now I want you to tell me your honest opinion, do you truly believe he is?”

Immune? I … Oh I don’t know, El.” Roberta was obviously flustered “I hope he is. I really do, but I keep wondering if I’m clinging to that hope just so that there will be the chance for us to be more than we are now. Most likely, chances are he’ll probably come down with it in the next few days, and just be another one of us then.”

“You two can still be together, even if he changes, you know.”

“I guess you’re right, but I’ve found lately that I’m not all that attracted to women anymore. I mean, I like to think that it’s the person inside that matters the most, and it is, but I like him for being a him too.”

“I see. Still …”

A loud voice yelling “Ellie!!!!” interrupted the small sandy blonde haired woman. She and Roberta turned to see Sara Davie running towards them, looking as if she had been rolling around in mud.

****************

Mia opened her mouth to reply to Vera’s threat, but the sound of shouting from the lab cut her short.

“Now what the hell is going on?” she demanded and headed back to the divider. Pulling the curtains apart she said, “Would you please keep it down? I have sick people in here that need their rest!”

“There’s been another attack.” Roberta told her, obviously upset.

“What do you mean, attack? Who’s been attacked? Attacked by who?”

“If you’d shush, Doctor, Sara was just telling us what happened.” Ellie informed her. “Go ahead, Sara.”

“Th … the three of us were over at the testing center in San Jose …”

“Three of who?” Ellie interrupted.

The tall raven haired girl looked at Ellie confusion etched on her face. It was obvious the poor girl was having serious issues putting together cohesive thoughts.

“Who were you there with dear?” Ellie asked this time clarifying the question.

“I was with Donna and Wendy … oh God, I … I couldn’t find them …”

“Where did they go, hun?” the group’s leader asked.

“We were there and then there was this guy … he was across the street from the center. He called me over.”

“Ok.” Several seconds ticked by. Finally Ellie prompted “So then what happened?”

“I…I was talking to him. Then everyone across the street started yelling. I turned around and there was this whole group of guys waving guns around and pushing everyone in the line outside towards the entrance.”

“In the middle of the day? Where were the police?” Vera asked.

“Police? I … I di… didn’t see any police. I don’t know where they were. Maybe they were inside with the rest. There was so much screaming and the heat …”

The others looked around at each other, trying to see if anyone was able to follow the traumatized girl’s train of thought.

None seemed to, so Roberta asked, “Heat? Wait, where were Donna and Wendy?”

Sara’s deep blue eyes clouded over even more. “I … they were on the other side of the street … then … I … I think … they m … must have got pushed inside … I couldn’t find them afterwards. I looked everywhere b … but I couldn’t find them.” she sobbed.

“Shhh hun. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” Ellie soothed. “Now, I need you think hard and tell me what else happened.”

Ellie was simply amazing to watch in action. With just a few comforting words, Sara seemed to pull herself together a bit. She took in a deep breath and exhaled it loudly before continuing somewhat more calmly.

“A … after everyone was inside the building, this beat up white car pulled up in front of the center and this tall looking old guy got out of it. He strolled inside like he owned the place but he only stayed there for a minute or two. Wh … when he came back out the men that were with him shoved the doors closed and …”

“And what hun?”

“It … it was horrible … The place just exploded with flames everywhere … So awful… I … I could hear everyone inside screaming and the smell … I tried to … get … get them out but it … it was just too hot … I c … couldn’t get close enough … They were just all screaming …” Sara couldn’t bring herself to say any more. She began to shake uncontrollably.

The small gathering of women just stood there silently trying to absorb what they had just been told.

Finally Ellie broke the stunned silence with one word “Manning!”

“Manning? Reverend Manning? The guy from Kansas? You think it was him?” Mia asked. “That’s taking an awful big chance attacking a testing center in full view of everyone.”

“Her story sounds very much like what happened the other night in Pacific Heights. Building burned with everyone inside of it, that’s a might big coincidence if it is someone else.” Vera added.

“From I’ve been told Dr. Blue, he believes he’s doing God’s work and that he will be protected. We need to make sure he understands how mistaken that thought is. He’s akin to the devil, not a messenger from God! It’s fallen to us to stop him. He can’t be allowed to continue these attacks.” Ellie told the rest.

“Fall to us? Why us? Why are we so special?” Mia asked angrily.

“God has told me that this is what she wants of us.”

“Oh, God told you to. Well that makes so much more sense then. Did
God happen to tell you how we go about stopping this raving lunatic? A lunatic that’s armed to the teeth, I might add.”

“Your sarcasm is well noted, Doctor Blue. If you don’t want to be involved with this, you may leave whenever you like, but God has set this before us.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to help you out, Ellie, but going against Manning and his people because God told you to, is just insane. It sounds like madness.”

“Madness? Perhaps it sounds like that to you, Dr. Blue, but regardless of what you may believe, this is the job we’ve been given and it’s what we are going to do. That is that!” Ellie said, putting an end to the conversation.

Mia shook her head in consternation and walked back behind the curtain.

Once in back out of sight of the others she walked to the nearest solid wall and lightly banged her head against it in frustration. The situation was getting worse every time she opened her mouth lately. For someone that was supposed to be doing everything in her power to ingratiate herself to these people in order to gain their trust, she was certainly doing a great job of alienating them one by one.

Her frustration with the way things were going wasn’t helping with keeping her temper in check, either.

Dejectedly, Mia wondered just how she was going be able to save Sam and Sara if she couldn’t get the Sisters to believe she was with them enough to gather useful information for Jordon. Perhaps Vera was right. She needed to tell the Colonel about Quinlan as soon as she could. Since there was a very good chance it might be the only meaningful information she ever got her hands on, the way things were heading.

Continued…

*********************

Confirmed Cases: 1,233,432

Actual Cases: 2,857,967

End part XI-A