The Doomsday Infection by Martin Lamport Read Free Book Online

it wrong last time -”
    “But that was a doozy. I nearly lost my job the last time I played one of your hunches. It’s not going to happen, Luke. Not without more evidence.”
    “By the time you wait for the evidence everyone else will have the story.”
    “That’s it. Enjoy London, Luke.”
    “Boss, do me a favor,” Luke calmed himself, knowing he’d lost this round, and changed tack. “Go home. The only way to survive this virus is to isolate yourself from other people.”
    His boss noticed the change in Luke’s tone and took him seriously. “And does this new virus have a name?”
    He sighed deeply, knowing what his boss’s reaction would be. “It ain’t a new virus; it’s an old one, a very old one . . . the Bubonic Plague.”
     
     
    07:30 AM
     
    Sophie drove up the I- 95 interstate in her rented jeep, as hers was still upon the island. She was on her way to visit the Seminole Native-Americans at their reservation, for their monthly consultations. These were the purists, who still lived on the land, shunning their more famous cousins with their casinos, gift shops and alligator wrestling. They despised them for selling out, and dressing like fools, acting as if they were cast members at Disney World. They preferred the quiet and solitude of the old ways, and Sophie enjoyed meeting with them and hearing of their folklore and traditions. She’d been particularly surprised to find that they had taken in and welcomed the freed slaves, who had made their way down south to Spanish Florida and allied themselves to the Seminole, who called them, ‘Maroons’.
    She turned onto Interstate 75, known locally as Alligator Alley. She cruised along for some miles enjoying the wind in her hair, as it was another scorching day. She thought about the events of the day before. She steeled herself for the telephone call that she had to make and voice dialed her car-phone, “The Surgeon General,” she said with a confident voice, a confidence that she did not feel. She could be about to make the biggest mistake of her life, or if correct she would prevent a major outbreak. She had no choice; she had to warn Quinn Martell.
     
    __________
     
    The Surgeon General glanced at the caller ID and beamed. “Doctor Garcia, how lovely to hear from you. Is this a social call?”
    “I wish. No, we have a problem, here in Miami.”
    “Tell me?” He asked, wondering how she knew.
    “There has been an outbreak centered at the Good Samaritan hospital.”
    “I have been hearing snippets. How do you know?”
    “I was there.”
    “My God . . . are you feeling OK?” he asked genuinely concerned.
    “I appear to be immune, but at least fifty people have died of a virulent strain of the Bubonic Plague. Yet there is nothing on the news, no warnings or anything. My question to you is, why not?”
    “Sophie, you always were my favorite pupil, no preamble – straight to the point.” He smiled at the memory. “Well, up until you called, I’ve had no official notice. Homeland Security is in charge and playing it close to their chests. The rumor is that they think it’s a chemical attack.”
    “Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “It has all the symptoms of the Bubonic Plague - the Black Death, but this time it is also pneumonic – it’s airborne.”
    “OK, let me see what I can find out. Thank you for the heads up. I’ll call you back.”
     
    __________
     
    Quinn Martell hung up and pursed his lips. He knew that Sophie would not phone without cause. She had been one of the brightest students he had ever had the privilege to teach and she was now one of the foremost experts in the field of contagious diseases, with a fondness for the historic plagues of Europe. In fact, she had always insisted that the plague would return one day, a notion for which he had gently chided her. He prayed to god that he would not be wrong. He’d do some digging. He had some old pals in the Homeland Security, he would try to winkle out