In my line of duty, I'm supposed to show a sense of stability, of control. People were looking to me for answers, and I was supposed to have them. But I didn't. I couldn't. None of us did. Everyone knew that, but they wanted the pretense of it. They wanted the security that came with answers, even if it was a false security. So I gave it to them. I gave it to my men, I gave it to my family.
All lies fed to them of course. But what else could I do? I couldn't help them, hell I'm not a doctor. I couldn't save them. I couldn't even find a way to really comfort any of the ailing. So I told them they'd be okay, I acted as if I knew what was happening. I gave them that security blanket they so desperately needed.
And all I wanted at the time was the ability to give myself the same thing.
Friday, April 13, 2012
11:00 p.m.
“Luuuuuke… I am your father…”
Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Richardson turned to look at his comrade, Lieutenant Sam Licata. He could tell the man was grinning behind his black gas mask. He shook his head; there wasn’t much to smile about.
Sam chuckled tensely. “Aw, c’mon, sir, embrace your inner Darth Vader. It’s the only fun in wearing one of these things.”
Kevin took a deep breath, in and out, inhaling the filtered air that came through his own mask. “I wouldn’t call this fun, Licata,” he muttered. Even so, he couldn’t help but hear the “Imperial March” playing in his head as he and Sam trooped into the infirmary.
Every sickbed on the entire base was full, or so it seemed, and had been for hours now. To Kevin’s knowledge, no one had died yet… but no one had shown the slightest sign of getting better, either. Worse still, the situation had deteriorated to the point that military men now writhed on blankets spread across the floor, their wives and children packed into the hall on extra cots and camp beds. Everywhere Kevin looked, there were sick people.
It hadn’t happened all of a sudden, but it had intensified quickly. The Air Force had paid close attention to the reports of unauthorized jets in the restricted airspace over Washington, D.C. that morning, and when news of the mysterious illness spreading up North had reached the base, it had been locked down. That hadn’t stopped the virus – they were calling it a virus, anyway; not that anyone really knew what it was – from creeping in. The infirmary had started filling up around eight o’clock that evening.
When the influx began, the base doctors had broadcast the order for everyone not showing symptoms to don their gas masks as a precaution. Bioterrorism, the whispers went around. Kevin, Sam, and the other men in their dormitory had quickly complied, but not everyone on the base had. In fact, even some who had put on masks had fallen ill shortly afterwards. Even some of the medical staff, themselves.
The situation at MacDill was certainly grim. With the base on lockdown, no one could enter, and no one could leave. The sick were to be treated on the base, which wasn’t equipped for emergency medical services, and when the doctors and nurses collapsed, there would be no one to relieve them. There was not enough staff as it was to adequately treat almost the entire base, and so those officers who were well had been called in to help.
Looking over at Sam, Kevin could tell by his body language that he was just as shaken by the sight of so many ill. “What are we supposed to do, Colonel?” the younger man asked weakly. “How can we help all these people?”
“Just help make them comfortable. That’s about all we can do for now,” replied Kevin in a low voice. To set an example, he approached the nearest casualty, a young woman, and knelt down so she could see his eyes behind his mask. “Ma’am? I know you’re not feeling well. What can I do to help?”
“Burning… my whole body feels like it’s on fire,” the woman murmured, her words slurring together. She was trembling with chills, but when Kevin placed his hand gingerly on her forehead, he could feel the fever burning through his glove. He noticed that her skin had erupted in ulcers, maybe fever blisters, that surely stung.
“How about a cold compress? That might help your fever,” he suggested, nodding to Sam. The other man nodded back and took off to find something they could use for compresses. “Make a few of them!” Kevin called after him, looking down the long hall of patients in the exact same state. He spoke words of comfort to those around him while he waited for Sam to return.
After five minutes, when Sam still wasn’t back, Kevin set off in the direction he’d gone, wondering what had held him up. “Edwards, you seen Licata around?” he asked, recognizing a captain who was staying in the same quarters.
“Saw him heading that way,” replied the captain, jerking his thumb to the left. Kevin followed its trajectory.
He didn’t have to do much looking. All of a sudden, Sam came wheeling around a curtain, nearly ripping it from its track in the process. “Colonel Richardson!” he blurted, breathless. “I need some help in here!”
Kevin sprinted after him, around to the other side of the curtain, where a man in a bed was in the midst of a seizure of some sort. His whole body shook with convulsions, rattling the bed beneath him. All of his muscles were clenched tight, from his locked jaw to his balled up fists. His face was twisted, as if in pain.
“Should we force his mouth open?” Sam asked. “Try to grab his tongue? Is it true what they say about swallowing your tongue?”
Kevin shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, caught off-guard. “I don’t know. Let’s just… let’s try to hold him down, so he doesn’t hurt himself.”
They went to either side of the man’s bed and grabbed his twitching limbs, pressing him against the mattress as he jerked beneath their hands.
“Ahh!” Sam cried suddenly, taking one hand off the man and holding it up in disgust. “Those boils on his skin… they pop!” Kevin could see the sheen of yellow pus on his glove.
“Good thing we’re wearing gloves, eh?” he replied. “Looks like it’s stopping.”
The spasms had died down; the man’s body seemed to relax. Sam let go of him at once and backed away. Kevin released him more tentatively, but it seemed the fit had passed. The man’s jaw slackened. He was breathing raggedly. Then, all of a sudden, his head lurched back, his throat bubbled up, and he was vomiting, a small eruption of thin, orange-ish fluid that dribbled up his nose and down his chin.
“Turn him!” Kevin ordered, springing forward. “He’ll choke!” As he and Sam hoisted the man over onto his side, he threw up again, this time spewing the orange vomit all over Sam’s fatigues. Sam backpedaled as another wave of vomit spattered the floor, and Kevin heard him begin to retch himself. “Sam, no! Don’t-”
But it was too late. The lieutenant was already vomiting inside his gas mask. Before Kevin could stop him, he reached behind his head and tore the mask off. There was a sickly popping sound as the seal was released. Sam doubled over, heaving. Kevin sighed and dutifully pat his back until he had finished. When Sam rose up again, his face was streaked with vomit, his eyes watering in misery and fear. “I’m sorry,” he gasped hoarsely. “I had to get it off.”
“C’mon,” said Kevin, grabbing him by the arm. “You need to shower, right now. Wash all that crap off you. Wash everything off, you got it?”
He hustled Sam back to the dormitory where he’d been staying while recuperating on the base. Neither man spoke during the walk, but Kevin knew Sam had to be thinking the same thing he was: he’d exposed himself. If the illness was airborne, like they all thought it had to be, he was now at risk for coming down with it.
“Use lots of soap, man,” he ordered Sam as he pushed him towards the showers. “I’ll wait around for you.”
He went to his own room, with thoughts of checking in with his family while he waited. He’d called his mother in Kentucky earlier in the day, well before the base went on lockdown. She had heard about the jets and the sickness on the news, but was feeling perfectly fine, she’d assured him, telling him not to worry. But Kevin couldn’t help but worry; it was his nature. His mother had been living alone ever since he’d lost his father a decade ago, and she was getting on in years. His two older brothers lived nearby, and so did her brother, his uncle and Brian’s father. They kept tabs on her, but still, he worried.
It didn’t help ease his fears when he dialed her number and got no answer, but then he looked at the time, and he groaned. It was half-past eleven; she had probably gone to bed hours ago and was sleeping too soundly to hear the phone. She didn’t keep one by her bed. He wished she’d pick up, just to put his mind to rest, but told himself he would wait and try again in the morning. If she didn’t pick up then, he could start worrying.
After some consideration, he decided to try Brian. Unlike his mother, his cousin had a cell phone and did keep it by his bed. He could call Brian without waking his twin daughters, who were surely in bed at this hour. He dialed and let the phone ring, and just when he worried he’d be transferred to voicemail, Brian’s voice rasped, “Kevin?”
“Bri?” Immediately, Kevin’s brow furrowed with concern. “Are you sick, man? You sound terrible.”
“Nah, I’m alright; I don’t have it. It’s the girls. Leighanne’s got it, too.”
“Oh no…” Kevin’s hand went to his head; he rubbed at his temple. “How are they doing? Are you at a hospital?”
“No, no, we’re at home. I tried calling the hospital a couple of hours ago. They told me not to bring them in, said they were already full up, and there was nothing they could do.”
“It’s the same situation here,” Kevin sighed. “Seems like three-quarters of the base is sick. We’re on lockdown; no one can be taken to the hospital. But it sounds like our hospitals are in dire straits too. This is insane.”
“I know. I’m worried, Kev. Really worried. The twins… their fevers are so high.”
“Give them lots of fluids. Use cold compresses,” Kevin advised, as if he actually knew what he was talking about. He couldn’t not try to give advice, though; it was the least he could do to help.
“I have been. They’re sleeping now.”
“Hopefully that will help. Give their bodies a chance to rest and recover.”
“I hope,” Brian sighed. “I’m praying this is the worst it will get. I tried to tune in to the news, but the TV stations are down. Websites are crashing. I can’t get any information.”
“I don’t know much more than you do, cuz,” said Kevin, apologetically. “Just hang in there. Keep praying. I’m praying, too.” It was the only thing he could say that he knew would comfort his minister cousin. They had both been raised in religious families, but Brian’s faith was stronger than that of anyone else he knew. If anyone could stay strong through this crisis, he knew Brian could.
“Thanks, Kev. Stay healthy down there, alright? You are, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, man. We busted out the gas masks. They think this thing is airborne. You, uh… you might wanna wear a mask of your own, if you’re taking care of the girls.”
“I’ll be fine,” Brian reassured him. “We’ll get through. I trust in God’s mercy.”
“Sure… sure, man.” Glad that Brian could not see him through the phone, Kevin shook his head. Their God wasn’t showing much mercy right then; that was for sure. He thought of Sam and wondered if the lieutenant was going to come down with the same thing the man who had vomited on him had. “Listen, Bri, I gotta go. Gotta check on a friend here,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Alright, thanks for calling. Keep the prayers coming.”
“I will. Bye.”
Kevin stared down at his phone for a few seconds after he’d hung up, thinking of his cousin’s family. His beautiful wife, two angelic little girls. He prayed that whatever this illness was, it was something like the flu, something that made you miserable, but ran its course in a few days. He couldn’t fathom the alternative.
He put his phone back on its charger and tested his gas mask to make sure it was still sealed. Then he left his room and wandered up the hall. His timing was impeccable; Sam was just leaving the bathroom, toweling off his hair, while a larger towel was wrapped around his waist. His skin was bright red from being scrubbed practically raw in scalding water.
“How ya doin’, Licata?” Kevin asked, looking him up and down. With a jolt, he noticed that Sam’s whole body was trembling.
“Alright… it’s just freezing in here.” Sam shuddered. “Gonna grab some clothes.”
“You sure? It looks like you boiled yourself in there,” said Kevin. He reached out and laid a gloved hand on Sam’s upper arm; sure enough, his skin was warm to the touch. He could practically see steam rising from it. “You feel warm, but you’ve got chills. That’s not just from the water, is it?”
Sam nodded, then shook his head. “I don’t know, sir,” he said miserably, and Kevin was startled to see tears filling the man’s eyes. “I’ve got a headache, sir, and I don’t feel right. Sort of weak… shivery… like I’ve got a fever. Do you think I’ve got it? Already?”
Kevin released a shaky breath through his gas mask and shook his head. “I don’t know, Sam. Why don’t you go get dressed, and I’ll walk you back to the medical building.”
Sam nodded and hurried off to his own room, still shivering. As Kevin watched him go, a heavy feeling of dread filled his chest, making his heart sink like an anchor.
