The Liger Plague (Book 1) by Joseph Souza Read Free Book Online

him as unsettling, original, and breathtakingly beautiful at the same time.
    He strode over, wondering how to handle this sensitive situation without causing a scene. His nerves felt jangly and on edge. The crowd of people stood three deep in front of the booth, and he could see that his wife was clearly enjoying her moment in the sun. Politely, he pushed his way through the crowd and saw that Monica had spotted him. Smiling, she waved for him to come over. He smiled halfheartedly in return, but something seemed not quite right. As soon as he moved to the front of the line, he clearly saw what people had been staring at. He felt his knees go wobbly and knew instantly, and with complete certainty, that this threat was no hoax.
    “You made it up early, hon. I didn’t think you’d get here until later tonight,” Monica said.
    “Can I have a quick word with you, babe?”
    “Hi, Dad!” Taylor said from the back of the booth, where she’d been polishing some glass works.
    “Hey, kiddo,” he said, not able to take his eyes off the glass sculpture sitting on the table, knowing full well that she hadn’t been the one to create it. His pulse raced, and for a second he felt dizzy with fear.
    His wife scooted out from behind the booth. He guided her by the elbow and led her to the middle of the room, where it was less crowded. A sense of urgency filled him as he tried to think of the words to say.
    “What the hell is that thing sitting on your table?”
    “Whoa! Looks like someone’s had a bad day!” she said, laughing. “Tough day at the conference, Tag?”
    “Look at me, Monica! I’m not kidding around!”
    She stared hard at him, knowing full well when he was being serious. “What’s going on with you, hon?”
    “Answer my question!”
    “That glass sculpture was sent as a gift from my gallery in D.C. They must have heard that I was going to be the guest of honor at Cooke’s Art Fest this year and wanted to send a token of their appreciation for having done business with them.”
    “Why the hell would they send you that?”
    “Lower your voice, Taggert Winters,” she scolded, gripping him by the bicep. “Why are you being such an asshole?”
    “I’m not being an asshole. I’m asking why your gallery would send you a goddamn glass sculpture?” He could barely control his growing sense of panic.
    “First of all, hon, it’s great to see you too.” She gave him a fake smile. “Second, it’s not any old cat but a liger. Didn’t you see the stripes? Okay, so maybe it’s not museum quality, but it’s still pretty amazing all the same. It does the coolest thing too. You press a button under its tail and smoke blows out of its mouth.”
    “Smoke?” Tag nearly passed out at the implication.
    “Yes, smoke. You push this button at the base, and aerosol starts to come out of the mouth. Quite a beautiful sight.”
    “Jesus Christ!”
    “What?” she said, turning to check on Taylor.
    “That wasn’t smoke coming out of its mouth, Monica,” he whispered. “That was an aerosol containing a virus.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “Listen to me. A threat was called in to me while I was attending that infectious disease conference at Harvard Medical School. What you thought was smoke may have actually been some kind of biological weapon.”
    She stared at him for a second before breaking out into peals of laughter. “Be serious, hon. I think you may have been working too hard this morning with all your infectious disease pals.”
    He wondered for a moment if she was right. Was he losing his mind? The delivery of this blown-glass liger could not have been a coincidence. The caller, Lenny, had specifically used the word ‘liger’ extensively throughout their conversation. Was he dreaming? Had he heard what he thought he heard? The events that had transpired today seemed surreal and nightmarish. He knew something bad had happened here, and he also knew that no one could get off this island