Pandemic

Tears filled her eyes and she looked away. "Micah. I can't. I can't marry you." She looked at him and said, "I do love you. I love you so much, but...please don't make me have to explain this to you because we both know you already understand why I can't."

"It's okay," he told her. "I knew you'd say 'no' but I had to ask." She smiled at him and then he said, "But I do have a request."

"Name it," she said.

"I want you to tell me at the first hint of a new virus emerging at Ground Zero in China. Will you do that for me?"

"Of course," she told him. "Is that it? Is there anything else?"

He smiled and said, "Since you won't marry me, I'm not going to ask you to come visit because that would be too painful."

"Yes, it would," she agreed. "Hey, maybe that high school girlfriend of yours is still available. What was her name? Hopper?"

"Harper," he corrected her. "And I'm pretty sure she's still married to the local chief of police."

Vanessa laughed and said, "Oh, right. Harper Valley PTA. Hey, if he's the jealous type, you better watch your speed in town. You know, make sure both tail lights work and that sort of thing. Small-town sheriffs have a lot of power."

Micah laughed and said, "I need to go and you need to get to work."

"I know," she said the sadness heavy in her voice. She touched his face and said, "I do love you, Micah. You know that, right?"

He nodded his head and said, "I do." He kissed her hand then got up and got dressed. "I'll shower at home," he told her as she got ready to take one herself.

"Okay. So...um...I guess...I'll see you around?"

"Sure. See you around." He kissed her on the cheek and walked out.

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

He waved goodbye to Hank and looked at the last load of hardware he needed to finish up.

He mentally checked off the major concerns one more time: food, water, medicine, vitamins, generators, fuel, waste disposal, filtration system, medical supplies, weapons and ammunition, TV and radio in case survivors could still broadcast, reading material, alcohol... That made him laugh. He stopped knowing he'd gone over the list a thousand times, but he was a creature of habit so he also knew he'd go over it many more times—just in case.

Several days later, the last of the equipment was in place. Before coming up out of what Micah affectionately called 'the bunker' he always checked the security cameras to make sure no one was watching. He knew people knew there was something more than a grain silo going in. He'd had a veritable construction crew on his property for an entire year. But they were a firm from out of state that specialized in building these kinds of facilities and were known for their discretion. No, he couldn't be 100% certain that everyone who'd been there could be fully trusted, but this crew was as good as they came and he felt comfortable that his secret was at least reasonably safe.

He thought back to when the construction originally began and how it had brought an early visit from Sheriff Jimmy Edmonds. The two formal rivals shook hands and from Micah's point of view, there was no insincerity involved. Jimmy, however, still didn't trust Micah in general and certainly not where Harper was concerned. It didn't seem to matter to her husband that his wife had gained a substantial amount of weight or that she hadn't aged all that well. Jimmy was as jealous and insecure now as he'd been back in high school.

"So what've you got goin' on out here, Micah? Or should I say 'Doc'?" he'd asked within seconds after shaking Christiansen's hand.

"Micah is fine...Sheriff," he said pretending to show deference to his 'lofty' position. "Just building an underground grain elevator to feed to livestock. This way is a lot smarter and safer."

"Uh-huh," Jimmy replied. "I guess you think everyone who stayed in Dalton is some kind of rube."

"Not at all," Micah told him. "I love Dalton. That's why I moved back here and opened a practice."

"Oh, okay. I thought maybe it was 'cuz you got fired from your high-and-mighty government job." He walked around trying to see if there was anything illegal going on and finding nothing got back in his car. "You take care of yourself, Micah," he said as he drove off.

Jimmy'd been back twice since then 'in the interest of public safety' but Micah knew he was snooping around. He also knew Jimmy was on private property and without a warrant had no right to look anywhere regardless of how suspicious he might be.

With all that running through his mind, Micah opened the air lock, stepped into the exit chamber and opened the metal hatch. To his shock and dismay, Jimmy was standing just a few feet away smiling that shit-eating grin of his.

"So how's that 'grain elevator' there, Doc?" he said sarcastically. "That's quite a system you got there for just storin' grain, ain't it, Micah?"

Micah closed the hatch and entered the ten-digit code to lock it behind himself and said, "Well, a man can't be too careful when it comes to his grain now can he, Jimmy?"

Jimmy walked over to the hatch and lifted up his sunglasses as he looked down at it. "I never took you to be a prepper, Doc. But that's exactly what this place is, isn't it? You got yourself a doomsday bunker here." He turned toward Micah and said, "Ain't that right?"

In a way, Micah was a 'prepper.' He'd prepared an underground vault with enough supplies and an air and water filtration system to survive any coming catastrophe short of a direct hit from an asteroid and he'd chosen this place precisely because of its remote location.

Micah didn't reply directly. Instead he said, "Is there something I can do for you today, Jimmy?"

The sheriff smiled and said, "Nope. Not today, Doc. But I'm makin' reservations for a date yet to be determined. And don't think I won't come knockin' when the time comes."

Micah smiled back and said, "Good to know, Jimmy."

The sheriff tipped his wide-brimmed, Smokey-the-Bear hat and wished him a good day.

Two more years passed without further incident. Well, at least not where Jimmy was concerned. Six months after Jimmy's last visit, Harper came to his office as a patient and while she was there she let it be known she'd never stopped caring for Micah or thinking about him.

"So, Micah. How is it a very handsome doctor like yourself has never been married?" she asked after taking his left hand during an examination and looking at his ring finger.

"I've always been too busy to think about marriage, Harper," he told her not wanting to talk about Vanessa.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I knew it wasn't because you didn't like women." She smiled wickedly and said, "I still clearly remember all those nights in the back of your daddy's pickup truck." She ran her other hand over his and said, "I know you do, too. Right, Micah?"

"Everything looks just fine to me, Harper. Nothing to be worried about here," he said ignoring her comments.

"Micah? I'm just sayin' that if you ever...you know...find yourself feeling lonely out on that big farm of yours all by yourself, you don't have to be all alone." She tried to grab his arm but he adroitly moved out of the way.

"I'll meet you up front when you're ready," he said as he left the exam room.

He'd only bumped into her once since then and even then she'd found a way to let him know her offer still stood during their brief encounter in a local grocery store.

Other than that, Micah's life consisted of his practice, caring for the cattle he was raising, and periodically making sure supplies in 'the bunker' were rotated as needed. And waiting. And waiting.

Until the day came that he got a call from Vanessa. His blood ran cold when he saw her name on the phone. He stepped out of the exam room and swiped 'Accept.'

"Vanessa?"

"Micah. Hi. Yes, it's me. Please forgive for not engaging you in pleasantries but...it's happening."

"Where?"

"Less than 25 miles from where we predicted Ground Zero to be. China doesn't report openly the way we do so the numbers are likely very low but we have confirmed reports of a thousand deaths already and they include healthy adults."

He was so stunned he couldn't speak for a moment. "Micah? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here. Do you have secondary reporting yet? Are there cases outside of the local area?"

"Yes. Three so far. One in Almaty, Kazakhstan, a second in a suburb of Paris, and a third in Prague. Micah, you know as well as I do that's just the tip of the iceberg. This is real and it's spreading fast."

"Any autopsy reports yet to determine virility?"

"No, not yet, but my sense is this is it. This is the super pandemic you predicted."

"We, Vanessa. We predicted it."

"I'm going to be busy as hell around here, but I'll do my best to keep you in the loop, okay? I've gotta go, Micah. Just..."

"Vanessa? Listen to me. I built the facility I told you I was going to build. I built it for two people so before this gets out of control..."

"Micah, I can't. People are going to need me. Here at the CDC. Maybe even in the field."

His heart sank as he thought about her putting her life at risk. "Vanessa, that's a suicide mission. Please don't accept a field assignment. I'm begging you. Come to Dalton. Stay with me." He paused to regain control of his emotions. "Vanessa...I still love you. I always will. Please don't throw your life away in a losing cause. It's already too late. Had we acted several years ago, we might have enough vaccine to slow this thing down, but now..."

He could hear the emotion in her voice as she said, "I know." There was a brief moment of silence before she spoke again. "Micah? I love you, too. And I always will. But you know my life is my work and vice versa. How can I give that up just to save myself?"

"I'm texting you the location and the access code. If you change your mind..."

"Goodbye, Micah. Please take good care."

The line went dead and Micah finished with the patient he was seeing then told his receptionist to cancel the rest of his appointments for the day. From the office, he went directly to the local supermarket and bought as many perishables as he could carry home and stocked his refrigerator and freezer knowing they would be full until he needed to head underground.

Back at his house, he began running calculations on the spread of the disease the best he could without hard data and even these very tentative results spelled disaster. Depending on how long it was from exposure to infection to death, the virus could take anywhere from 30 to 90 days to spread throughout the entire planet leaving ever-enlarging rings of death from the point of origin in each new location.

It was two more days before the press began releasing reports on the ever-increasing numbers of seemingly healthy people falling ill and dying with 72 hours. That piece of information let Micah know he was looking at somewhere closer to the 30-day timeframe than 90.

The following day he heard reports of the first cases in America with outbreaks in New York and Los Angeles meaning the virus already had a foothold on both coasts. It was also extremely likely that many other unrelated outbreaks would take place even as the death tolls rose in the two areas with very large populations.

Within a week, the first signs of societal breakdown took place. TV stations were losing personnel very rapidly and two major networks had already permanently signed off with other reporting only sporadically. A week later the only reporting being done was via radio and that's when Christiansen knew it was time to leave the house.

He had just two more things to take care of before doing so. He made sure there was a six-months supply of grain and water available for his livestock and then he dialed her number and waited. It went straight to voicemail and when he heard the sound of her voice, he felt a large lump in his throat. "Vanessa. Hi, it's me. I'm moving underground today and I just wanted you to know my offer still stands. Anytime day or night. Either way, please be careful." He paused then said, "I love you."

He hung up and before opening the hatch, took a quick look around, then went below ground. He expected to spend a minimum of three months there giving the virus an opportunity to fully run its course knowing he might need to wait until summer. It was mid-January now so he assumed he'd be down there until at least the first day of spring.

There was no sign of human life as he sealed the hatch and left the exit area and entered the safe zone. He clicked on the filtration system and powered up the bunker as he scanned the perimeter with the security cameras and settled in for the longest wait of his life. He did his best to push thoughts of Vanessa out of his mind as he passed through the decon room into the living area before sitting down in a chair and turned on the radio.

Three days later, he'd just laid down a little after midnight when something triggered his security alarm system. By design, there was no noise. Just a flashing light warning him someone or something was with 50 yards of the hatch. He went to the monitoring station and thanks to the night-vision capability of the system he could clearly see who it was and it was no surprise.

Sheriff Edmonds was at the hatch furiously entering numbers into the digital access system. He flipped on the audio and heard Jimmy saying, "Micah. Please! Let me in. I'm begging you! Open the door. Harper's dead! For the love of God, man...let me in!"

This went on for some two hours before his cell phone rang. He had a remote antenna which provided him with radio access to the outside world. He saw it was from Vanessa and answered it.

"Micah? It's me. I'm at your house. I know where to go from here but there's a police car out in a field with its lights flashing."

"Shit!" he said to himself. He spoke into the phone and said, "Okay, listen. I need you stay there until I tell you otherwise, okay?"

"Okay. Just hurry. Please."

"Vanessa? Are you...okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I know what the symptoms are and I've avoided all human contact the last 24 hours. Jesus, Micah. It's like a war zone out there."

"Okay. Hang on. I have to deal with this problem first. Just stay there, okay?"

"Micah? What's going on?" He didn't answer and she sat there in her car with the lights off and waited.

Micah went to a large safe, dialed the combination, and opened the door. He chose an S&W M&P M15 M4 rifle and grabbed a fully-loaded magazine and inserted it.

He pressed a button and said, "Jimmy. This is Micah. You need to leave now. I'm not going to warn you again. Get in your car and go."

He could see Jimmy's face looking directly into one of the cameras and he knew he was sick. He was sweating profusely and coughing loudly. He saw a trickle of blood from one of the corners of his mouth. "Just let me inside, Micah. I don't want to die. Come on. We used to be friends." Jimmy coughed violently and his hands were dark with blood.

He got back on his cell phone and said, "Vanessa?"

"I'm here, Micah."

"Go inside my house. There's a key in a little clamshell in the flower pot. Go inside and get into the protective suit in my bedroom closet. It's just like we wore at the CDC. You'll know how to use it."

"Why? What's going on," she said as she moved slowly toward the house.

"This person is infected. He looks terrible. I have no idea how much longer he'll live but you could possibly be infected already if this thing is airborne. Is it?"

"Yes," she said. "It spreads with incredible ease and rapidity. But the distance between him and me is large enough to make infection extremely unlikely."

"Just be incredibly cautious. Please."

"I will," she promised. "Once I have it on, then what?"

"Wait for me to call you."

"My battery is almost dead, Micah."

"Understood. Just don't approach the bunker until this guy is no longer a threat, okay?"

"Okay. Please be careful," she said as the red color in her phone's battery bar went black.

From inside the bunker Micah again spoke to Jimmy. "Sheriff. You're infected. There's nothing I can do for you."

He saw Jimmy staggering around then turn toward the house. He pulled out his flashlight and shone in that direction. "Who's car is that, Micah? That wasn't there when I pulled up." He turned back toward the monitor and said, "That's someone you want to let in, isn't it, Doc? Okay, fine. There's room for all three of us, right?" Micah didn't answer. Jimmy called out, "Let me in or I'm going to investigate. I'm not feelin' so well, Doc, so unless you want to let me in, your...friend...might get sick, too." He turned to face the camera and said, "Is that what you want, Doc?"

"No," Micah called out. "Give me a minute, okay?"

"One minute, Doc!" he yelled into the darkness.

Micah pulled on a protective suit, connected the oxygen line, snapped on the hood, and checked the seal. Green light. He drew a deep breath, picked up the rifle, charged the chamber with a round then said, "Jimmy? Step back from the hatch so I can open it."

"Good boy, Doc," Jimmy said in reply. He drew his service weapon and brandished it. "Just in case."

"Step back, Jimmy. Ten steps. Move back."

Sheriff Edmonds slowly moved away while training his weapon at the hatch. The last thing Micah saw was Jimmy wiping sweat from his bloody face with his shirtsleeve.

He stepped into the exit area and entered the code. He'd only recently learned how to fire any weapon and had started with handguns and worked his way up to M-16 equivalents. He'd chosen this rifle for its compact size and magazine capacity. His hand was shaking as he tapped in the number. The airlock hissed and the hatch opened.

Micah slowly climbed up the metal ladder and as his head cleared ground level, Jimmy was standing there with his gun pointed at Micah's head. "Hello, Doc," he said sweat dripping from his forehead. "Why don't you hand that weapon so no one gets hurt."

Micah silently cursed. After all his careful planning how could he have let something so simple bring it all to an end? "Jimmy, let me come up and check you out. You're sick. You need help."

"Uh-uh. Gun first, Doc. And flip it around. Hand me the stock."

Knowing he couldn't get back down or get off a shot before Jimmy killed him, Christiansen slowly spun the weapon around and handed it to him. "Now come on out, Doc. Nice and slow."

As Micah climbed the last rungs of the ladder he saw Jimmy kick his rifle across the concrete pad. It skidded about 15 feet and came to rest at the border of the field and the edge of the concrete. Micah stood face to face with Jimmy who said, "You knew this was coming, didn't you? You knew it all along. I shoulda come out here two days ago before I got sick but I was too busy making a little money on the side. You understand right, Doc? All that money out there for the takin'. Can't really blame a guy for that, right?"

He was sweating profusely now and Micah said, "Why don't you sit down and let me have a look at you."

He waved his gun back and forth and said, "Uh-uh. Oh, no. You ain't gonna get a hold of your rifle again, Micah." As he pointed in the rifle's direction, he saw a flash of light before he heard the noise. It was followed by two more flashes and loud cracks.

Jimmy jerked twice, the second round sending him two feet sideways as he crumpled onto the concrete pad.

He heard a muffled voice holler, "Micah? Are you okay?"

He saw the outline of her suit as she approached him holding his M4 still pointed at Jimmy. "Vanessa! I'm fine. Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yes, I'm fine. What about him? Is he dead?"

"If he's not, he will be shortly," Micah said grimly. "There's nothing we can do for him and we have have picked up the virus on our suits. Come on. Let's get you inside."