Influenza: Viral Virulence (5 page)

A much happier Victoria sat in her prized first-class seat after switching planes in Japan. She was amazed that she had had the strength and perseverance to endure the regular coach seating on the other flight. Never again, she vowed to herself. Although she was immensely relieved to finally be where she belonged, she wasn’t feeling too well. Of course, after sitting near all those dirty commoners, she wouldn’t put it past them to have given her a cold.

Her first bit of coughing and congestion started when she was in the VIP lounge in the Tokyo airport waiting to board her connecting flight. She had been watching the breaking news about an explosion in a lab in Malaysia. The newscaster was speaking in Japanese, but at least the station had enough common sense to include English subtitles. They were saying it wasn’t terrorism but some sort of accident with chemicals that had not been stored correctly.

Thank goodness it wasn’t another idiot terrorist
, Victoria thought grimly. Then she erupted into a spastic coughing attack. She quickly put a handkerchief over her mouth to stifle the noise and looked around to see if anybody had noticed her embarrassing outbreak. Thankfully, no one paid her much attention.

What the television news did not say and the authorities did not know was that the explosion had originated in Dr. Curtis Freeman’s office, and the charred remains of the doctor concealed a bullet lodged in his brain.

Victoria later boarded her plane without any further coughing outbreaks, but halfway into the flight, she started feeling very hot and dizzy. Her thoughts were becoming jumbled. She just wanted to get home and crawl into her oversized, plush bed. She tried to lie back and relax in her seat. She felt as if an elephant was sitting on her chest. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. This cannot be the flu, she thought, because she had received the influenza vaccine prior to leaving the United States.

The virus had reproduced itself to the extent that the body’s defensive mechanisms could no longer ignore the threat. Finding its way into the oxygen-rich lung tissue, the virus multiplied exponentially until the body’s killer cells, macrophages, started to attack the infected cells. The macrophages were the only part of the immune system that wasn’t inactivated by the hidden genetic code in the vaccine.

Unfortunately, it was too late. If the body had recognized the virus during the beginning stage of infection, then it more than likely would have rid the body of the virus in seven to ten days. But because the virus had gotten a head start due to the influenza vaccine, by the time the body did mount a defense, it was a losing battle.

The macrophage response produced by Victoria’s body attacked the virus where it was most prolific—in the lungs. As a result, not only was the lung tissue damaged by the virus, but the body’s defensive response caused inflammation, mucus secretions, and elevated temperatures. She was literally drowning in her own fluids. The damaged lung cells could not effectively exchange the incoming oxygen and get rid of the carbon-dioxide buildup inside the body. Hence, Victoria’s oxygen levels started to decline, leading to hypoxia in the brain. The symptoms of hypoxia were confusion, dizziness, and shortness of breath.

Worse, Victoria’s damaged lungs and congested nasal passageways tried to expel the mucus by triggering the coughing and sneezing reflex. This only aided the virus’s agenda to spread out and infect others.

By the time Victoria collapsed in the Los Angeles airport restroom, she had personally infected twenty-four people on the flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles, including the airline staff and everyone in first class, and fifty-one people in the Los Angeles airport while waiting in customs and walking to baggage claim. During her wait for the baggage to come around on the carousel, she managed to infect another twelve people, including the Harringtons, who were just returning home from a relaxing and fun family vacation.

When Victoria finally drew her last labored, raspy breath on the restroom floor near the baggage-claim area, she inadvertently infected the two women who tried to help her and also the airport’s emergency first responders who came to assist.

Victoria, just one person, infected over ninety people before expiring unceremoniously on a dirty restroom floor. How many more unsuspecting victims did those ninety influenza-infected people unknowingly infect? Victoria was only one out of seventy-four people on the first leg of the trip from the Philippines to Tokyo who had contracted the influenza virus. Another seventy-three victims were now unknowingly infecting others. The infection rate was growing exponentially.

William Harrington and his wife, Stacy, kept one eye out for their luggage and the other eye on their two children. Their son, William Junior, was eight years old, and his sister, Michelle, was fast approaching her twelfth birthday. They were all exhausted from the long flight, but it had been well worth it. William had taken some much needed time off from work to spend quality time with his family. He loved them all so much that he’d do anything, including putting himself in harm’s way, to keep them safe.

It was William who first noticed Victoria at the baggage pickup. She was well dressed, and he could tell by looking at her clothes and jewelry that she was a person of wealth. However, she looked very pale; her face was so white that it had the appearance of a ghost. When she started violently coughing, he nudged his family to move farther away.

Collecting their multiple bags, the Roberts family piled into their SUV and started driving toward home in Porterville, California. By the time he pulled off the freeway to top off the gas tank, William wasn’t feeling very well. Dizzy and groggy, he attributed it to the long flight. His wife and children had fallen asleep; but after the nonstop vacation fun and the long last day of travel, he didn’t think much of it.

While filling up at the gas station, William noticed he was sweating profusely. It was warm out this evening, he rationalized. As his hand grabbed the pump handle, he noticed that even his palms were slick with sweat. Michelle stirred from within the depths of the backseat and announced she had to use the restroom. As she went inside the convenience station, William noted that her eyes appeared a little swollen and she was sniffling.

She reemerged from the station as he put the gas handle back in the cradle. They both climbed back into the vehicle and drove off. By the time William pulled into his garage, Michelle had fallen back asleep. He was surprised his family was sleeping so soundly even though he had started to cough. He had tried to stifle his coughing to keep from waking them, but at times he couldn’t help it. Feeling very tired, he had an unusually difficult time rousing his wife and two children. They all dragged themselves into the house without bothering to unpack their belongings. Whether they got the luggage out of the SUV now or in the morning didn’t make much difference to William. At this time of night, all he was dreaming about was putting his head on the pillow of his own bed.

The Harrington family went to sleep that night and never woke up.

The three people who fueled up at the same pump as William all contracted the influenza virus from the pump handle. The driver of the fourth car was a meticulously clean person and had used liquid hand cleanser both before and after filling his gas tank. Fortunately for him, the cleanser killed the remnants of the virus that had hidden on the handle. What the cleanser couldn’t protect him from was the store clerk, who was coughing and sneezing as he paid cash for the gasoline.

Little, innocent Michelle Harrington had not only unknowingly infected the gas station clerk, but she had also deposited the virus on both the store and bathroom door handles. Before the fluid protecting the virus dried and the virus itself became inactive, twenty-four more people who went inside the gas station were infected with influenza.

Chapter 5

Michael slowly opened
his eyelids. The Saturday morning sun was streaming in through his bedroom window. He turned his body away from the bright light and immediately winced as pain shot from his forehead. He touched his wound gingerly with his right hand, and it felt as if a baseball were trying to emerge from his skull. It was a large bump that would probably be there for days. Unless he could somehow fix his hair to cover it, people who didn’t know about last night’s events would ask what had happened, and those who knew would just smile at him. Well, at least the bleeding had stopped last night after he got back to his apartment.

Because of the position of the sun shining in through his window, he had slept in more than he had planned to. Forcing himself to get up, and feeling the throbbing pain once again at the sudden movement, he made his way out of his bedroom to the bathroom. As he passed Brian’s closed bedroom door, he heard him groan from inside. Chuckling quietly to himself, Michael knew that someone had a far worse headache than he did.

Once in the bathroom, Michael found some aspirin and washed two tablets down his parched throat with a large glass of water. After showering he felt a little better, and he ate breakfast, grabbed his backpack, and headed out the door to the campus library. He knew from experience that if he didn’t get out of the apartment soon, he would be distracted by his friends and would most likely be enticed to watch the college football games on television.

He didn’t really follow college football like his two roommates did. He preferred to watch the professional football teams that usually played on Sunday afternoon. But today, he had to get his notes in order and at least get a good start on studying. He had already lost all of last night, and he couldn’t afford to do the same today.

When he arrived at the library, it was almost eleven o’clock. If he looked to his left and across the Tundra, multiple three-story red-brick student dormitories rose like soldiers standing at attention. Off to his right and opposite the dormitories, three huge buildings stood guard. One was the College of Pharmacy, where Michael had been taking the majority of his classes. The other two buildings, the College of Science and the College of Law, were mirror images of each other.

Michael opened the heavy glass door and went inside the empty library. It was a modern structure with plenty of partitioned study desks spread throughout both the first and second floors. Of course, the library contained a massive amount of books, but its main function was to serve as a place to get away from the noisy student rooms in order to study for tests in solitude. For the most part, the books remained untouched in their proper places on the shelves.

Students didn’t usually prepare for tests this early in the academic year. Of course, one week before midterms or finals, you wouldn’t be able to find a spare seat in the building. But today, Michael had the choice of any desk, and he chose one next to the floor-to-ceiling window. At least he’d be able to enjoy the outdoor weather while he was studying.

He soon discovered that his selection of a study desk supposedly free of distractions was a big mistake. Multiple times he caught himself staring out the window, daydreaming. More than a few students were emerging from their dorm rooms and lying on the expansive lawn, soaking up the last rays of summer. Some brought radios, drinks, and books to enjoy the day. Others tossed a football or baseball back and forth. In the distance toward the sport fields, Michael could see an unofficial soccer game starting up. He found himself wishing he was with them instead of being confined inside this empty building. He never imagined that most of the students he saw out there would be dead within a couple of weeks.

After several hours of staring out the window and not getting much accomplished, he gave up and moved to a desk farther away from the enticing distractions. He settled down and started once again to try to read through his notes. Then he caught himself beginning to nod off.
Great
, he thought.
Where can I go so that I will actually concentrate?

Knowing he desperately needed to change his location if he wanted to make any progress toward forcing his study notes into his brain, he packed up his books and notes once again and left the library. After the glass door swung shut behind him, he turned down the sidewalk heading back to his apartment. He had just walked a few feet along the concrete…

“Hi!” a very familiar voice called.

He turned and was surprised to see Lorie. She was sitting on a large beach towel that had a bright island scene printed on it. He would never have recognized her with those dark sunglasses she was wearing. She was also dressed in short shorts and a form fitting, white top. It was not her typical attire when she attended classes.

She waved him over, and as he got closer she looked up at him and said, “You look better than you did last night.”

“I suppose that not having blood dripping from your face will tend to make an improvement.”

“Kidding aside, how are you really doing? Does it still hurt?” she asked, a little concerned. She removed her sunglasses and peered up at his forehead, examining the knot that must have been growing from it like a tumor.

“I’m okay, really. I took some aspirin this morning for the pain, and eventually the swelling will go away. At least, I hope it will. I’ll just look like an ogre until this lump disappears.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling mischievously at him. “You looked like an ogre even before you got the lump. The swelling just adds to the effect.” She winked at him playfully. “Come and sit for a while,” she said, moving over and patting the empty half of the beach towel with her hand.

Trying not to get his shoes on her nice, clean towel, he sat down clumsily beside her. Lorie pointed to his shoes. “Go ahead, take off your shoes and stay awhile.”

Michael obediently did as she suggested. He hoped his socks didn’t smell. He settled comfortably on his portion of the beach towel. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just enjoying the last few days of the summer and trying to keep my tan as long as possible. Besides, the new girls in the sorority house are playing some kind of music I really can’t stand,” she replied. “I think it’s some new-age rap music.” Lorie stretched out and lay on her back with her face toward the sky. “Just feel that warm sunshine!”

He tilted his head up to the sky and, for the first time that day, relaxed. He felt the heat of the sun flow over his face. He closed his eyes, and he could hear the faint music of multiple radios in the distance and the murmur of other conversations floating on the breeze. It was a perfect summer afternoon. If he could only somehow put this day in a bottle and save it…

“Sorry about the mess last night,” Lorie said solemnly.

“Don’t be sorry,” Michael replied earnestly. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t do anything wrong. Did you have a chance to talk to Ted after the…incident?”

“Only to tell him I wanted nothing to do with him anymore.” Then she continued with a note of sadness, “You know, I can’t seem to find a decent guy. I don’t think there are any out there. All the good ones have been taken…”

Michael kept silent and let her continue.

“…Every guy I get close to turns out to be some kind of jerk.”

“Don’t worry. The perfect guy for you is out there somewhere. I believe there is someone out there for everyone. All you have to do is wait. It also seems to me that when you’re not looking for someone, that’s when the perfect person finds you.”

“How about you?” Lorie said, turning to look at him. “Why haven’t you found the woman of your dreams?”

“I don’t know. It seems that everyone I meet is just a temporary thing. I mean…” He hesitated, trying to form his thoughts. “I really
like
the girls I’ve dated, but it never progressed into anything beyond the ‘like’ part. I guess I wasn’t really into them as much as I should be. I couldn’t see anything permanent or even long-term with any of them. And the worst thing is when you’re with someone and inside you know it isn’t going to last. It makes you feel guilty, like you’re doing something wrong.”

“So you admit that you’re a pig who dates girls for just one reason?” she asked. He could tell by her tone that she was joking with him again.

Playing along, he answered, “Tell me something. If I admit I’m a pig, does that mean I’m not really one?”

“Well,” she mused, “yes. Probably. Or maybe not.” She laughed and returned to her previous position, lying on the beach towel. Putting on her glasses to shield her eyes from the bright sun, Lorie sighed. “I suppose we both have our issues with the opposite sex.”

He let his eyes linger on her more than he should have. It was a good thing he wasn’t interested in her, or he would have noticed her smooth, perfectly shaped, tanned legs. If he thought of her as more than just a good friend, he also would have seen the way she filled out her top nicely. Or he may have noticed the way the sun danced around her long, flowing, blond hair or the way her lips were perfectly curved. Yes, good thing he was just not interested in her.

Michael tore his longing eyes away and looked over at a nearby group of students sunbathing. “I really need to get back to studying. I was just on my way back from the library after an unsuccessful attempt at studying for that stupid test on Monday.”

“Are you still trying to study?” she said incredulously. “Come on, Michael. It’s just the beginning of the school year. Lie back and enjoy this day. We won’t have many more days like today. In a couple of months, we won’t be able to see the ground because it will be covered with a few feet of snow.”

Apparently, no one wanted him to study for this test. Considering all the productive work that he had accomplished so far today, Michael gave in and lay down on his back beside her. Now, he was looking right up at the light blue sky. He watched some clouds wisp by. A few birds were flying back and forth from tree to tree. Butterflies danced around the flower beds, and a harmless bee flitted between dandelion weeds. As he let the warm glow of the sun drift over his body, he wished he could stay here forever. No worries. No tests. No work. He was starting to drift off again. He had little idea that a storm was brewing far away out west. He could never have imagined how devastating and life-changing this rising, dark whirlwind would become.

“Did you see the news this morning?” Lorie suddenly asked.

“No,” he replied sleepily.

She propped herself up on her elbows. “You haven’t seen all of those people dying in Asia and Japan?”

He purposely hadn’t turned on the television this morning because he wanted to get out before any distractions came along. “No. What’s happening?”

“That flu bug is killing a lot of people out there. From what they said on the news, this is the worst flu outbreak they’ve had in over a century. All the doctors’ offices are swamped. The emergency rooms and hospitals are overflowing.”

Michael sat back up. “From just the flu?” he asked, surprised.

“I think so. But maybe it isn’t the flu, because they said that even people who have gotten flu shots are getting sick.”

“Getting the flu vaccine does not guarantee that you won’t get the flu,” he replied. “Did you know they only pick three or four strains of influenza to protect against each year? That’s the maximum they can put in one flu vaccine.”

“How do they know which strains we’ll get?”

“From what I’ve read, they really don’t know for sure. They just make an educated guess and then pick two
A
strains and two
B
strains to use in the vaccine.”

“What about the other strains?” Lorie asked.

“That’s why people who have received the influenza vaccination can still get the flu.” Turning to her, he asked, “Have you gotten the flu shot yet?”

“No,” she said. “I haven’t gotten around to it. I really don’t like needles. Never have, never will. Do you think I should get one now?”

“I don’t know. If they say that people who got the flu shot are still getting the flu, then what’s the point?”

“Have you gotten yours?”

“No,” he said.

“But you work in the pharmacy. It would take you, like, two seconds.”

“I was never really worried about catching the flu,” Michael said. “I remember when I was young, I got the flu almost every year. Most kids would just get sick for a week, and then it was over. I remember missing school and being in bed. Besides being miserable, I actually enjoyed the time being out of school. It was like a vacation at home, being forced to lie in bed and read books. I managed to read some good ones!”

He pointed to her pink cell phone lying beside her hip on the towel. “Remember the days when we didn’t have cell phones? We survived. In fact, we were fine. More than fine. We got along without them. Now, people don’t even talk to one another face-to-face. They just text each other. It’s a tragedy if we leave our home and we don’t have our phones with us. We seem to have gotten so dependent on cell phones that we’re completely lost without them.”

Lorie laughed at something she had thought about. “Remember the first cell phones in the eighties? That huge phone that looked like a brick?” She lay back down on the towel.

Michael smiled and lay back down next to her. “Yes. I guess it would be tough to slide one of those in your pocket.”

“Or purse.”

“It had a dual function―you could use it for self-defense.” Changing back to the subject, Michael said, “I haven’t gotten the flu shot since I started high school.” He added, “And you know what? I don’t think I’ve had the flu since.”

“So, the flu shot causes the flu?” she joked.

“No, I’m not saying that,” he replied seriously. “I think that good hygiene, like washing your hands often, avoiding coughing or sneezing people, and just common sense can help keep you from getting the bug.”

They talked a little longer. He always enjoyed being around Lorie. With her, he could be himself. All his defensive barriers seemed to drop when he was around her. He could tell her almost anything, and she could confide in him. He felt comfortable around her, like a very good friend.