The Blacker Death: An Ebola Thriller by Larry Enright Read Free Book Online

it’s me.”
    “You could’ve told me you changed your cell number, Bam.”
    “Oh yeah, I did that after the divorce. Changed the home number too.”
    “Divorce? I didn’t know you and Pam had split up.”
    “I guess it’s been a while.”
    “I guess it has. Look, I’ve been trying to reach you but the pricks at your office wouldn’t give me your number. They said they’d pass along the message.”
    “It’s probably in the suggestion box by my desk.”
    “The circular one?”
    “That’s the one. You want to go first or should I?”
    “It’s your dime,” he said.
    “The CDC’s got another possible Ebola case right next-door to Belgium. Was your guy in Luxembourg recently?”
    “Don’t know.”
    “What about Africa?”
    “We’re still checking on that, but I don’t think so.”
    “Okay, your turn now,” I said.
    “Are you free anytime today?”
    “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”
    “How about dinner at Pico’s, say about seven?”
    “You got it. See you then.”
    I spent the rest of the morning and the afternoon doing nothing. About 4:00 p.m. I put on my new Hawaiian shirt and headed for the hospital to see Billy, stopping on the way to pick up a couple burgers, fries, and a shake from a local place called Fat Macks. They make the best burgers around. When I got to the fourth floor at the hospital, a spaceman was just getting ready to go in. I handed him the bag from Fat Macks and told him it was personal belongings for Billy. I guess they can’t smell much inside those space suits. He sprayed the outside of the bag with a disinfectant and took it in with him.
    When Doc Williamson saw what he’d done, he chewed him out from behind the glass, and then he laid into me.
    “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
    “It’s just a burger. What difference does it make?”
    “A big difference, if he starts to show symptoms. We’re trying to keep it sterile in there.”
    “I don’t get it. He’s not sick. What’s the big deal?”
    “If he gets a cold or any kind of respiratory or other infection, it will weaken his immune system and make him more susceptible to complications from the disease, assuming he has it. That’s why we’re taking special precautions with every meal we serve him. Who knows what kind of germs that fast food is carrying.”
    I said I was sorry, but when I looked over at Billy, he was smiling ear-to-ear, chowing down on that burger.
    “How are you feeling, Agent Matthews?” he asked.
    “I’m fine, doc.”
    “Did you read that literature I gave you?”
    “I’m working on it.”
    “Did you take your temperature this morning?”
    “Not yet.”
    He lectured me, took my temperature, said it was normal, and lectured me again. I tried to change the subject.
    “How’s Billy?”
    “So far, so good.”
    “Did you get in touch with the people on that list I gave you?”
    “I spoke with three of them and left messages for the others.”
    “What did you tell them?”
    “I told them that the man at the hotel had an infectious disease, and that there was a slight possibility they may have been exposed to it. I asked them to come in for tests just to be sure.”
    “Did you tell them what disease?”
    “Only one asked. I told him it was malaria.”
    “Malaria? So, you lied?”
    “Agent Matthews, I’m not about to use the word Ebola when we’re not certain what it is. Malaria is a disease that can be readily cured if treated. People know that.”
    “So, you lied?”
    “Yes, I lied.”
    “Good. I’m glad you’re on the case, Doc. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
    I went over to the booth to talk to Billy.
    “Sorry about eating in front of you, Grandpa, but this is the best damn burger I’ve ever had.”
    “No sweat, kid. How’s tricks? I see they brought in a treadmill for you.”
    “Yeah, between that, the TV, push-ups, and sit-ups, I’m keeping busy.”
    “I’m still working on those free weights.”
    “Great. Is that a