The Ebola Wall (13 page)

It was only the third time the President of the United States had visited the United Nations in New York. As his convoy of armored SUVs and limousines rolled through the nation’s largest city, the chief executive couldn’t help but notice he was passing through a ghost town.

Businesses were closed, the streets empty of cabs and cars. Random sheets of blown newspaper were the only pedestrians meandering down the normally-packed sidewalks. People were afraid to come out of their apartments and homes.

New York’s mayor had greeted the president as Marine One had landed. The local politician practically demanding the president’s ear. The staffers of both leaders hurriedly agreed to have the mayor join the Commander in Chief during the ride to the UN.

“Here in the Big Apple, the true impact of Ebola-B is more prevalent than practically anywhere else, Sir,” the mayor stated. “Wall Street, the financial engine of the free world, is closed. So are the huge international banks, currency exchanges, investment firms, and insurance giants. The economic losses are piling up, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. My first responders are calling in sick at unprecedented levels, sir. Food is running low.”

It was the same all over the world. In Chicago, the commodities exchange was shut down. Stock markets worldwide had locked their doors – some due to lack of traders on the floor, others ordered closed by their governments to avoid free-falling prices. The situation was dire, even outside the cities. The interstates were empty - truckers weren’t hauling goods, partly because there weren’t any workers at the factories to produce cargo, partly because Ebola-B paranoia was keeping them at home.

London, Paris, Hong Kong, and Tokyo were all experiencing the same effect. The world’s supply chain was beyond a few broken links – it had simply evaporated into thin, virus-slandered air.

As his unattended parade snaked through the streets, the president noticed one of the city’s mega-hospitals through the thick, bullet-proof glass. The parking lot was nearly empty.

“How are the sick receiving care?” the president asked.

“They’re not, for the most part. One of my few city health officials still on the job told me this morning that our medical facilities have turned into torture chambers. He reported patients lying in their own waste, empty IV bags, and abandoned nurse’s stations. Doctors and staff aren’t reporting for work, those that have honored their oaths and stayed at their posts are overwhelmed. The storerooms are nearly out of food and medications. Death rates are skyrocketing.”

“And civil unrest?”

“Not so much yet. Everyone is afraid to come outside. But that will change when food begins to run out. Most people in this city only keep three or four days of groceries in their apartments. We found that out during one of the blackouts years ago. When their stomachs are empty, they’ll hit the streets in droves – virus or not.”

The chief executive nodded his understanding. He’d received similar reports from all over the nation… all over the globe. Even the military was beginning to feel the impact.  

Before leaving for New York, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs had placed an emergency call to the oval office. “Sir, our Carrier Strike Force moored in San Diego will be unable to depart as scheduled. The civilian dockworkers aren’t reporting for work, and we can’t load our ships with the necessary provisions. In addition, the units maintaining the Houston barricade are down to less than five days’ worth of fuel and supplies. Our situation globally is becoming critical.”

The mayor interrupted his thoughts. “I need to hear it from your own lips, Mr. President. I need to know you are going to agree to Houston’s terms and surrender.”

The president hadn’t expected such a blunt assault, his head snapping away from the window to face the now hostile passenger. “I have no intention of doing anything of the sort, Mr. Mayor. The greatest nation on earth doesn’t surrender to terrorists… we don’t heed to crazed individuals holding weapons of mass destruction, no matter how dire the consequences.”

The response came in the harsh voice of a native New Yorker. “Consequences? Dire? Let me make it absolutely clear, Mr. President. In less than a week, there won’t be any nation left. The term ‘most powerful’ won’t mean shit. And while I can’t speak for every American, I’m sure most of them would prefer to be conquered by Texans than to be dead.”

Fighting off his initial instinct to put the mayor in his place, the president decided to defuse the situation. “Mr. Mayor, I understand what you’re saying. I see your point of view. Even if I did make the call to give up, it won’t make any difference. Houston’s terms were absolutely clear, and there’s no way we are going to get every government on the planet to play along. It’s just not going to happen.”

“Then go kick the holdouts’s asses, sir. If Iran… or North Korea… or even fucking Disneyland doesn’t want to join the effort to save the planet, then the rest of the world should roll in and wipe them out. Not to throw your own words in your face, but didn’t you say, ‘The good of the many outweighs the needs of the few,’ just a few months ago when you announced the quarantine?”

The chief executive nodded, acknowledging the quote. Before he could respond, that morning’s call from the Pentagon filled his thoughts. Sighing, he looked the mayor in the eye and said, “It may be too late for that. I’m not sure our military will be functional in a few days.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Yes, it’s that bad. With budget battles, the national debt and ongoing pressure from the other side of the aisle, the federal government has been running thin. We’re in the same shape as the civilian segment of the country – without significant reserves of fuel, food, or medicine.”

“So what’s going to happen?”

“Our people in Washington are doing their best, preparing to simply ride it out. Houston survived, albeit with significant causalities. The world leaders I’m getting ready to meet all share the same basic mindset – ride out the storm and then rebuild from the ashes.” 

The mayor shook his head in disgust. “Billions and billions will die. Why? It all seems such a waste.”

“Tomorrow, you’ll receive a plan from Homeland Security. It will basically instruct you and a few hundred of your key personnel to hunker down, set up a Fort Apache of sorts, and wait until the pandemic burns itself out. Unless someone comes up with a better plan, that’s about all we’re going to be able to do.”

“You mean you want me to abandon the citizens and just let them die by the millions?”

A grimace crossed the president’s face. He merely nodded.

“That could take several months,” the mayor muttered, his empty gaze turning back to the window and the city he served. “God help us all.”

Chapter 6

After a full day of bickering, political arm-twisting, and overt threats of hostilities, the diplomats at the United Nations began to lose hope. The usual bad actors wouldn’t even consider the Gulf Republic’s offer, their reasoning as varied as the different languages spoken by the members.

North Korea, as expected, was unmoved by the projected causalities worldwide. Without couching words, the isolated dictatorship made it clear they were happy that karma was finally circling around to repay the decadent West for the years of abuse directed at their small nation.

Iran was slightly more subtle, basing its refusal to join the world community for religious reasons. It seems that a significant portion of that country’s leadership was interpreting the pandemic as fulfillment of ancient prophecy, a forbearer to the return of Imam Mahdi. The Iranian ambassador even appeared to celebrate the outbreak, telling anyone who would listen that Mahdi, a descendent of the prophet who vanished 1,000 years ago, would soon reappear and establish global Islamic rule before the end of the world.

Some nations tried to sell their acceptance of Taylor’s terms, hinting strongly that they would agree in exchange for billions in foreign aid or other perks.

China, already practicing one of the harshest birth control programs ever devised, almost seemed relieved at the prospect of having to bury 70% of its people.

By mid-afternoon, it became clear that agreement was impossible. This realization motivated several governments to the point of desperation.

Japan was one of the more creative, broadcasting on the Gulf Republic’s frequency that they would pay each individual in Houston the grand sum of $5,000,000 each, in exchange for access to the cure so it could be administered to its own people. But only their people.

Italy was a wee bit more discreet, offering a reward of $100,000,000 to any individual who would smuggle out the vaccine.

Shortly after sunset, the exhausted diplomats began quietly leaving the building, many having secretly scheduled flights back home. Off the record, most of the ambassadors and their staffs admitted they were traveling to be with their families and countrymen while death raged across their homelands.

Governments weren’t the only desperate entities.

Corporations, from global enterprises to smaller firms, offered everything from outright bribes to lucrative partnerships that promised profits beyond imagination. One pharmaceutical company even rented aircraft, taking a huge chance at being shot down as they flew over H-town, dropping thousands of leaflets on the puzzled survivors. Each small piece of paper offered a reward of one billion dollars to the person who provided their scientists the formula for the cure.

Individual celebrities and the ultra-wealthy tried to get in on the action as well. One supermodel, discovering a slightly elevated temperature that morning, went to the internet with her proposal. She resorted to the world’s oldest profession, offering unlimited lifetime booty calls to any Houston resident, male or female, who would sneak her out a dose of the vaccine. Yachts, personal aircraft, financial rewards, and all kinds of creative barters were extended to the once shunned people of the Bayou City.

For most of the residents who were aware of such proceedings, it was insulting. Still, Colonel Taylor and the board kept security tight. “Humans aren’t perfect,” Jack informed the leadership. “Even our survivors have frailties and are susceptible to temptation. Only a handful of people know the process, and I assure you they are highly motivated not to share the cure with anyone, but we must be vigilant.”

The sunlight hurt Captain Norse’s eyes. After watching him wolf down a second bowl of rice and two MRE meatloaf dinners, Dr. Herald deemed her patient strong enough to take a walk. When she escorted the recovering officer outside, Shane’s smile beamed almost as brightly as the early morning sun.

“What a gorgeous day,” he commented after adjusting to the brightness. “When you think you’re never going to see the sky again, it gives you an entirely new perspective.”

Elissa nodded her agreement. “You’ll find a lot of things have new meaning, Shane. As you mingle with our people, their priorities have changed, their value systems will never be the same.”

“I suppose a near-death experience does that sort of thing,” he agreed.

The physician didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to watch a group of children enjoying a schoolyard playground nearby.

With her attention diverted, Norse took the opportunity to study his doctor. While he found her physically attractive, he had to admit his feelings went deeper than just surface beauty. He was more than just a recovering patient who was enamored with his caregiver. 

In recent days, he’d found himself looking forward to her visits. Waiting anxiously for her appearance, he’d occupied the time thinking of questions he wanted to ask about her personal life, topics he wanted to broach about her beliefs and outlook.

“Do you want to have a family one day?” he asked, joining her in watching the children.

“Yes, that was a goal before the Q. I came from a big family and always pictured myself having a bunch of kids.”

“Me, too,” he replied honestly. “While I only have one brother, the pitter patter of lots of tiny feet scampering around the house just seems natural to me.”

“Were you ever married?” she asked.