The Jakarta Pandemic: A Modern Pandemic Thriller
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Synopsis
"A rare, up-all-night thriller series. Alex Fletcher is the 'hero' we need when disaster strikes and the bonds of society start to break."
THE JAKARTA PANDEMIC:
Cases of a highly lethal virus appear in major cities around the globe. Most ignore the warning signs.
Alex Fletcher, Iraq War veteran, has read the signs for years. With his family and home prepared to endure an extended period of seclusion, Alex thinks he's ready for the pandemic. He's not even close.
The unstoppable H16N1 virus rapidly spreads across the United States, stretching the fragile bonds of society to the breaking point. Schools close, grocery stores empty, fuel deliveries stop, hospitals start turning away the sick...riots engulf the cities. As hostility and mistrust engulfs his idyllic Maine neighborhood, Alex quickly realizes that the H16N1 virus will be the least of his problems.
"It delivers a vicious punch of violence and heroism for the reader to endure and admire. I could hardly put The Jakarta Pandemic down until I finished it." - Amazon reviewer
"The tension builds as difficult choices are made, when no good options seem to be available. I found certain segments to be uncomfortably realistic, at times creepy in the way you could feel things closing in around the family." - Amazon reviewer
"It makes you think...how far are you willing to go to protect your loved ones? Every day that goes by, these characters have to question what is right and what is wrong. Take the trip thru this book. You won't be disappointed." - Amazon reviewer
The Alex Fletcher Books (In Order):
The Jakarta Pandemic, Book One
The Perseid Collapse, Book Two
Event Horizon, Book Three
Point of Crisis, Book Four
Dispatches, Book Five
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Steven's novels are recommended for fans of Brad Thor's Scot Harvath, Vince Flynn's Mitch Rapp, Brad Taylor's Pike Logan, Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan, Lee Child's Jack Reacher, Robert Ludlum's Jason Bourne, L.T. Ryan's Jack Noble, C.G. Cooper's Daniel Briggs, Daniel Silva's Gabriel Allon, Mark Greaney's Gray Man and Michael Crichton.
Learn to survive COVID19—coronavirus
Release date: December 14, 2013
Publisher: Stribling Media
Print pages: 527
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
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The Jakarta Pandemic: A Modern Pandemic Thriller
Steven Konkoly
Prologue
Alex checked his watch for the tenth time in less than twenty minutes. 5:50 p.m.
Where are they?
Lying on the ground for more than an hour, while a vicious Nor’easter pounded him with snow and wind, was more than enough to test anyone’s patience—and physical limits.
He lowered the night vision scope for a moment and rubbed his eyes, hoping Charlie was keeping a better watch on the ambush site.
He’d better be, or they could stumble through undetected.
Alex had doubts about spotting them with the scope. The near absence of ambient light, combined with a blinding snowstorm, continued to degrade the already grainy image formed by the inexpensive, first-generation night vision device.
He twisted open the green ceramic thermos and poured the last of the hot tea prepared by Kate. Taking a sip from the thermos cap, he placed the cap down next to the rifle in front of him, and took another look through the scope. He could still see the Hayes’ house, but the image had degraded even further. Batteries were not the issue; he’d just changed them. As the snow intensified, he’d have to rely on Charlie to spot them in time to spring a coordinated attack. Alex didn’t want to think about what could happen if they slipped by. Nothing would stand between these psychopaths and his family.
Alex swigged the rest of the warm tea and replaced the lid, tucking the thermos into his backpack and checking his rifle again. Through the Aimpoint sight, the red dot still glowed faintly in the center of the image. He pulled back on the AR-15’s charging handle and ejected the bullet loaded in the chamber, leaving the brass cartridge in the snow where two other bullets lay. He’d ejected one bullet every half-hour to ensure that the freezing temperatures had not affected the weapon’s mechanical action. A malfunction tonight would spell disaster.
A sudden, insuppressible shiver rendered him useless for a few seconds. His time out here was limited. He looked through the night vision scope again; the green image confirmed that he was still alone. How did things spiral this far out of control?
So far gone, that he found himself lying under a neighbor’s play set in a blizzard, eagerly waiting to kill. He had to do it: for the good of the neighborhood and society in general, but most importantly—for the immediate safety of his family.
In the end, that was all that really mattered to Alex.
Arrival
Chapter 1
A loud pulsing vibration jarred Alex out of a deep sleep. He squinted in the darkness, laboring to turn his head toward the source of the persistent buzzing sound.
My phone.
The phone’s display illuminated a half empty glass of water on the nightstand. He watched, still helpless, as the phone moved closer to the edge with each vibration. Breaking through the murk of a broken sleep cycle, Alex reached for the phone to check the caller ID. Maine Medical Center. A jolt of adrenaline shot through his body, as Alex headed out of the bedroom to the hallway.
“Alex Fletcher,” he answered in a whisper.
“Oh…Alex. It’s Dr. Wright. I thought I’d get your voicemail.”
“No problem, Dr. Wright. I usually don’t keep my phone on the nightstand. Just happened to end up there tonight,” he said, closing the door to the master bedroom.
“I’m glad you’re awake, Alex. I’m fairly confident we’ve seen our first cases of the new pandemic flu tonight. Cases started rolling into the ERs early this evening.”
“You said ‘ERs’. More than one?”
“Yes. Three cases at Maine Med. Two came from Westbrook and one from Falmouth. And one case at Mercy, patient walked over from somewhere in the west end. I also have a confirmed case at Maine General in Augusta and possible cases at Eastern Maine Med up in Bangor.”
“Confirmed as what?”
“Confirmed as nothing I’ve ever seen before. That’s why I think we’re dealing with the new virus out of Hong Kong,” Dr. Wright said.
“That’s more than six cases. How did this pop up here first and not Boston? It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“Boston has been hit with several dozen cases, possibly more.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t see anything on the news, or on any of the websites. We’ve been keeping an eye on this,” Alex said.
“I don’t know what to tell you, but I know for a fact that Boston has been slammed. A friend of mine at Mass General called to tell me to get ready. He said that area hospitals in Boston saw dozens of cases trickle in overnight Wednesday, with more showing up as the day progressed. Several dozen more by the time I talked to him.”
“Why didn’t the media catch this yet?” he asked.
“Well, between you and me, and I don’t have to remind you that this entire conversation never happened—”
“Of course. Absolutely, Dr. Wright,” Alex said instantly.
“We’ve been instructed by the state health department to report all cases directly to them so they can coordinate resources and notify federal health agencies. I assume that direction filtered down from HHS. They also asked us not to notify the media, in order to avoid a panic. I can understand part of that logic, but if you ask me, I think they’re trying to keep this under wraps because they’re not prepared. Unfortunately, this is the only direction we’ve received so far from the state or feds. Or maybe that’s a good thing for now. Aside from rushing us more useless avian flu detection kits, nothing else has been done. Alex, I have to let you go. I have a long night ahead of me.”
“Sorry to hold you up. Thanks for the call, Dr. Wright. I really appreciate the heads up. Preliminary case fatality rates in Asia look high.”
“Yeah, we’re not taking any chances. This one is different than the avian flu, which was bad enough. Makes the swine flu look like a common cold. Thanks for making a trip over here yesterday, especially considering the fact that the state’s anti-viral stockpiles will fall under federal control if the flu spirals out of control. Your samples will really come in handy.”
“Could you use more? We’ve been instructed to keep our distribution of TerraFlu to a minimum, but I have no problem making another donation to the cause.”
“I’ll take whatever you can give me at this point, but I don’t want you to get in trouble with Biosphere.”
“I’m not worried about them. What time works for you tomorrow? My schedule is pretty clear, so I can make a trip over any time.”
“How about 12:45? I plan to be back from the hospital at that point. My first patient is at one. We could take care of it then,” Dr. Wright said.
“Works for me. See you at 12:45. Good luck tonight,” Alex said and waited for a reply, but the line was already dead.
Alex sat down in the office and checked the Boston Globe and Boston Herald websites. Nothing.
He zoomed in on North America.
Cases in Canada, Mexico, Central America…wait, wait, look at this, Los Angeles, San Diego, and San Francisco. He looked at the East Coast and saw no colored icons. Alex adjusted the map to focus on southern California and placed the cursor over the yellow Los Angeles icon.
“Los Angeles. Population 4,089,245. Isolated outbreaks. 190+ cases reported. Uncontained. Isolated outbreaks among ethnic Asian populations.”
In a separate desktop window, he navigated to the Los Angeles Times homepage. He looked for the California/Local section. Here we go. He found an article and began to read:
Hong Kong Flu Hits Asian Community.
“Cedars-Sinai confirms at least a dozen cases of Hong Kong flu. Mainly confined to Asian community. UCLA Medical Center confirms several cases. Mainly Asian community. East LA Doctor’s Hospital sees its first cases late in the evening on October 31. Community leaders decry nearly one-day delay in reporting cases to the public. Employee at Cedars-Sinai contacts Los Angeles Times with information about suspected flu cases. Cases were being kept isolated from other patients and under a tight information seal. Times reporters launched an immediate investigation into all area hospitals, uncovering several dozen more cases.”
Alex put the cursor over the yellow San Francisco icon.
“San Francisco. Population 853,758. Isolated outbreaks. 100+ cases reported. Uncontained. Isolated outbreaks among ethnic Asian populations.”
He moved the map to China and saw that dozens of southern coastal cities were shaded either orange or red; Hong Kong and the surrounding areas were shaded violet. He passed the mouse over one of these areas.
“Greater Guangzhou city. Population 12,100,000. Massive outbreak. 8,000+ reported cases. Uncontained. Containment efforts focused on Guangdong Province.”
8,000 plus cases in one city? I thought there were only 26,000 altogether in China yesterday?
Alex passed the mouse over a few more cities in the area around Hong Kong and saw similar text fields. He quickly added up the other numbers and calculated roughly 77,000 reported cases in southern China.
He zoomed out of China and settled on a worldview. Colored dots appeared to sweep outward in a concentric wave from Southeast Asia. A solid perimeter of blue dots extended from Japan, through South Korea and Vladivostok, then reached across northern China and connected with Pakistan and India. India was covered in blue dots and yellow dots; orange icons appeared centered over several major cities within India. Oddly, Java Island contained no dots. He placed the cursor over Java.
“Java Island. Population 150,000,000. No reports.”
Something’s up over there.
Beyond Asia’s ring, blue-colored dots littered every continent, concentrated on nearly every major city. He almost wished he hadn’t seen the map. His stomach churned as a wave of anxiety blanketed him. The deadly flu raged uncontrolled all around the globe and now on their doorstep in the sleepy little town of Portland, Maine. The seriousness of the situation hit Alex hard as he walked back to the bedroom. Laying down next to Kate, he felt a little more secure as he tried unsuccessfully to sleep.
Chapter 2
Alex pulled into the parking garage at Maine Coast Internal Medicine’s (MCIM) flagship office building. The state-of-the–art, eight-story building housed nearly a hundred medical providers from several of MCIM’s previously scattered office sites. He parked as close to the main entrance as possible and grabbed his Biosphere computer tablet.
He arrived on the 5th floor, which housed over a dozen physicians. All of them were internists, and more than half of them specialized in infectious disease. MCIM provided infectious disease specialists to most of the hospitals in southern Maine, and he could only imagine how busy they might be today.
“Hey, Jodi. Did Dr. Wright make it in?” he asked the receptionist.
“He better have. He has patients scheduled every ten minutes until 4:00, and I’d like to get out of here on time for a change.” she said. “Let me ring his office. I know he’s here. It’s been crazy.”
“I bet,” he said.
She dialed the phone and spoke into her headset.
“Dr. Wright, Alex Fletcher is here to see you.”
She listened. “All right, I’ll send him back,” she said and broke the connection. She looked up at Alex. “Go ahead, but don’t hold him up. It’s Friday.”
“I won’t, trust me. Have a great weekend, Jodi.”
“Yep. You too.”
Alex enjoyed walking back to Dr. Wright’s office, especially since most of Dr. Wright’s colleagues refused to meet with pharmaceutical representatives.
He knocked on Dr. Wright’s door, which was propped open.
“Come in, Alex, and shut the door behind you.”
Dr. Wright stood up and walked around the desk to shake Alex’s hand. He was tall and thin with dense black hair and thick eyebrows; his dark complexion suggesting a Mediterranean ancestry.
“Sorry to be curt, Alex, but I’m jammed with patients this afternoon, and I have to hit Maine Med when I’m finished. I only have a minute or two.”
“No problem, Dr. Wright. I’m just glad I can help before things spiral out of control at Biosphere,” he said.
“Okay—” Dr. Wright said, eyeing Alex suspiciously. “What’s up with Biosphere?”
“They’re holding all drug stock in reserve for some partnership with HHS (Department of Health and Human Services). We were told to stop giving samples of TerraFlu to all hospitals and physicians effective immediately.”
“You’ve got to be joking, Alex. Really? HHS? They couldn’t pick a worse partner. Those samples will never see effective use. Are you telling me I can’t get any more samples? Each one of those samples could save a life, if TerraFlu proves effective against this new strain. What a waste,” he said, clearly angry.
“They’re hell-bent on mismanaging this crisis at every level. I think they’re going to stop shipping to the pharmacies, and there’s even serious talk about concentrating Biosphere representatives in areas hit hard by the flu—to promote TerraFlu. I could get relocated to Hartford.”
“This is really tragic. I’m sorry things at your company have taken such a sad detour. You’re not going to be part of that redeployment nonsense, are you?”
“No. I’m staying put, no matter what they say, which brings me to my first and only agenda item.”
“I didn’t realize that you were a man of agendas,” Dr. Wright said, raising his eyebrows.
“There’s always an agenda,” Alex said, holding out his computer tablet.
Dr. Wright took it from him.
“Since I don’t anticipate working for Biosphere much longer, I don’t see any reason to assist them in making matters worse out there. If you’ll sign my tablet, I’ll give you all of my samples.”
Dr. Wright sat in his chair. “You’re not breaking the law by doing this, are you?”
“No, not at all. I’m just going to make some people very, very unhappy.”
“Thank you very much, Alex. This means a lot. The drug samples are an invaluable resource, especially at a time like this,” he said.
Dr. Wright signed the tablet and handed it back. “Seriously, this is a tremendous help.”
“My pleasure. If you can keep this on the down low for a while, I’d really appreciate it. I don’t want Biosphere to figure this out until I’m ready to deal with them. And don’t say anything about the Biosphere strategy to anyone. That could probably get me in more trouble than the samples. Confidentiality agreement stuff.”
“Not a problem. Actually, I don’t think I’m going to keep the samples here. Too tempting for staff and others. Drug samples have a tendency to disappear around here. I’ll pull my car around to your car and pile them in there for now. You fit all of it in your car?” he asked, surprised.
“I put all of the seats down, and it’s jammed full. It may not be as much as you think, but I just got a shipment a week or so ago, so it’s more than I usually have in my storage unit.”
“Whatever you have, I will gladly take off your hands. Where are you parked?”
“Second level, pretty close to the elevators.”
“Beautiful, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Alex picked up the computer tablet and checked Dr. Wright’s signature. He decided not to close out the transaction until he disabled the wireless card. If Alex pressed “complete,” the transaction would transmit automatically, setting off some kind of alarm at their data collection center. He felt confident that any current or future transactions involving TerraFlu samples would be flagged for immediate review.
“See you in a few,” said Alex, moving to open the door.
“Hey, before you open the door—”
Alex took a few steps back toward Dr. Wright’s desk.
“If I were you, I’d make a few trips to the store and stock up on necessities. A well-placed source told me the CDC is close to making an announcement about the classification of the mystery flu. Remember the talk I gave at your regional sales meeting down in Stamford?”
“Fantastic talk. Scariest thing I ever heard.”
“Think about the worst case scenario I laid out,” said Dr. Wright. “And use that as a starting point.”
“That bad?” said Alex.
“Worse. Way worse,” stated Dr. Wright.
Chapter 3
Alex walked out of Hannigan’s with his second shopping cart full of groceries. That afternoon, he made two separate trips into the store, the first one to buy nonperishable items, which nearly overflowed from the cart, and the second to buy refrigerator items. In order to avoid questions during his second trip, he managed to stand in a checkout line far away from the lane he used during his first trip.
The crowd inside the store was typical for a Friday afternoon, which, despite the looming threat, didn’t surprise him. The general public would wait too long, and one electrifying news report would send everyone into the stores at once—effectively crippling the food supply system. Most of the grocery stores, just like the big retail stores, had become so efficient that they carried little additional stock on hand to meet the slightest increase in demand.
Leaving the parking lot, he decided to call family and friends to urge them to hit the stores—while they still had the option.
***
Alex turned his company car onto their subdivision on Durham Road loop, glancing at Ryan through the rear-view mirror. The subdivision contained thirty-four houses, evenly spaced on half-acre lots around a loop. Since Durham Road and the streets surrounding it had been built on converted farmland, trees throughout the neighborhood were smaller than the substantial colonial houses. Compared to most of the older, established neighborhoods nearby, the trees on Durham Road still looked like saplings.
Todd Perry stood up from adjusting a sprinkler head in his front yard and waved. Todd was a good guy—a little hot tempered, but four kids could tamper with the calmest parent’s underlying personality.
Alex glanced as he passed a well-maintained gray colonial with dark blue doors and a three-car garage. Thick evergreen bushes crowded the sides of the walkway leading to the front door, standing guard over wide, raised beds filled with yellow and orange fall flowers. He waved at Julia Rhodes, who was examining her mail on the mudroom porch.
The Walkers’ house, a yellow contemporary colonial with green doors, showed no signs of activity. They usually started to spill home at around 5:30. First, Ed would arrive with at least two of their children. Then at about six, Samantha would pull in with whichever kid had a late practice. The rhythms of the neighborhood were familiar and comforting to Alex.
“Make sure you have all of your junk,” he said to Ryan, while pulling into their garage.
“Got it,” Ryan replied and opened his door.
Alex carefully slid behind his wife’s Toyota 4Runner, trying not to dirty his suit.
She never pulls in far enough, he mentally complained.
Hanging up his jacket and kicking off his shoes, the aroma of dinner being prepared greeted him.
“Hey, honey, smells great!”
“Yeah, I thought a stir-fry was in order for tonight,” said Kate.
Kissing his wife Kate and holding her for a minute in their kitchen momentarily eased Alex’s worries.
“Are you making rice for the stir fry?” he asked.
“Already made.”
In the mudroom, Ryan kicked off a shoe that loudly banged against the closet door.
“Take it easy on the house in there,” he yelled.
“Sorry, Dad,” Ryan said and flashed by them on his way upstairs.
“Hey, no hug for your mom?” Kate said.
“Sorry, Mom,” Ryan said and returned to the kitchen to begrudgingly hug Kate.
“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Tell Emily to wash her hands and start making her way downstairs. You too. Love you,” she said.
“Love you too, Mom. I’ll be right down,” he replied and scooted up the stairs.
“Anything good happen?” he asked, nodding at the TV.
“The UN declared an emergency session. They’re considering a travel and commerce ban against China. Chinese officials plan to release more information about whatever is going on over there.”
“When?”
“Some time tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you change and grab the kids on your way back down. I’m pretty much done here.”
“You got it,” he said and headed up the stairs.
Alex closed the bedroom door behind him as he pulled off his tie. He turned on the flat-screen TV, which took a few seconds to display a picture.
“CDC officials have confirmed the flu strain as an H16 variant. Little is known about the new strain at this point, and many serious questions remain unanswered. So far, neither the CDC nor WHO has responded to demands for information. CNF news correspondent David Gervasey reports from ISPAC headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. David?”
“Denise, roughly fifteen minutes ago, we were fortunate to get a brief interview with one of their senior spokespersons, Dr. Allison Devreaux.”
The screen changed to the previously recorded interview with Dr. Devreaux.
“Dr. Devreaux, what can you tell us about the virus that we don’t already know?”
“The virus has been classified as a new subtype H16,” she answered in a French accent. “The strain is classified as H16N1.
“This subtype has never been seen before in humans or animals, so it is truly a novel strain. Right now, our own scientists are trying to match its genetic characteristics with previously seen subtype strains. In this way, we can make some rough predictions regarding its behavior.
“We know that the virus is highly contagious, and its acquisition by a host leads to typical flu-like symptoms, including high fever, marked weakness and pulmonary distress. In essence, it behaves like a highly pathogenic disease. We know this from our investigation of an ever-increasing number of cluster outbreaks throughout the far Pacific Rim, and we are extremely confident that the strain found by ISPAC investigative teams outside of China is the same as the strain causing the outbreak inside of China.”
“When do you anticipate further information to be available from your field teams?”
“We receive constant reports and engage in discussions with these teams around the clock. When new information is verified, we will post this information on our website. You can also subscribe to our Pandemic News Alert service and receive automatic email updates as new information is posted. We are striving to pass all relevant information on to the public so that they can make the most informed decisions to prepare for a potential pandemic virus.”
“Does this look like a pandemic on scale with the 2008 avian flu?”
“Based on its efficient capacity for human to human transmission, I feel confident projecting that this virus will rapidly reach all corners of the globe. Let us hope that this virus in not as deadly as the avian flu. Thank you, David.”
The screen cut back to a live broadcast from ISPAC headquarters in Atlanta. David Gervasey stood in front of the modern, ten-story glass and steel structure.
“You heard it here first, Denise. We’re going to remain in place to get the latest information as it becomes available.”
“Thank you, David. As you can see, live ISPAC website information is located at the bottom of our screen, and we will be broadcasting any new ISPAC website updates as they are posted. Stay with us, we’ll be back in a moment.”
Alex stared at the screen for a few more seconds, before changing into jeans and a long-sleeve fleece pullover. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he glanced at his office door and decided to check the Internet for updates.
He typed “Hong Kong International Airport” into Google. The search engine’s first link was the airport’s official website. He scanned the page and clicked on “flight information,” then “departures.” The screen filled with the day’s scheduled departing flights.
By noon on any given day, over a hundred flights departed Hong Kong for every major city in world, and by midnight that same day, flights originating from Hong Kong landed in major hubs on every continent. From there, these passengers embarked on journeys to every conceivable corner of the planet. Within sixteen to eighteen hours of leaving Hong Kong, an infected passenger could be sharing a pint of Guinness with friends in a Dublin Pub, sipping tea with family in the suburbs of Damascus, or meeting a friend for Italian food in Boston’s North End.
And this thing has been brewing in China for more than three days.
A cold sense of dread filled Alex as he scrolled through the countless flights leaving Hong Kong and other cities in China. Just as quickly, fear gave way to an iron clad sense of determination to protect his family, in the face of the looming disaster.
***
The Fletchers ate dinner sitting at a large rectangular pine table located between the kitchen and family room. Alex served a hearty butternut squash soup to everyone, while Kate started the evening interrogation.
“So, anything huge going on in class for anyone? Emily?” Kate said.
Emily replied, “Not much, we’re still learning some Spanish. I have homework again.”
“Yeah, you’re going to have a lot more than the one spelling test you had last year. Try homework like every night, and more tests. I have like two hours a night now,” Ryan complained.
“Well, I think we’re going to have about the same as you. I heard from Lauren that her friend in Mr. Leahy’s class already has over an hour of work to do every night,” Emily said.
“I doubt it. I never had that much work in third grade. Third grade is like kindergarten compared to middle school.”
“Okay, crazies, Ryan wins the award for most oppressed by homework. Anything other than that going on this week?” Alex said.
“We talked about pandemics in science. How the flu spreads, how scientists classify strains of flu, past pandemics. It was pretty cool. Pretty scary, too. Dad, do you think we could have another pandemic? Ms. Ullman said that major pandemics usually don’t happen so close together, and that’s why the swine flu pandemic never really took off.”
“Historically speaking, your teacher would be right. However, there are a lot of experts out there that think it can happen at any time if the conditions are right. So to answer your question, I don’t think anyone can really predict these things,” Alex said.
He looked at Kate and rubbed his chin. Kate picked up on his cue.
“You guys really don’t have to worry about it. You know that, right? We’ve made some preparations at the house over the past few years that will get us through any major crisis. Pandemic, major storm, whatever it might be.”
Both kids nodded their heads. They appeared to have anticipated this talk.
“You mean all of that stuff locked up in the basement?” Emily asked.
“Yeah, that’s part of it. We have plenty of food, water and supplies stored down there. We also have our own power supply: the sun. And we can keep the house warm with the wood-burning stove,” Kate answered.
“Can’t we heat the house with the furnace if we have solar power?” Ryan asked.
Alex laughed. “This kid’s too smart. Yes, we could, but the furnace eats up a lot of power. During the summer, when the sun is strongest, we could get away with it. But who needs to use the furnace in the summer, right? Other than to heat up water, that is. Winter is a different story because the sun is so much weaker. Even on a beautiful day, the batteries will charge more slowly than a crappy day in the summer. We’d really have to watch the charge level.”
“What I want you two to understand is that we are prepared for anything really scary and that you don’t have to worry about it,” said Kate.
“How will we know if it is happening?” Emily asked.
In a calm tone, Alex said, “Your mom and I know what to look for.”
“Right, and if something like that happens, we need to be ready to stay in our house for a very long time, without coming into contact with anyone, even friends and family. Unless they prepared like us,” Kate said.
“Like before? I hated that. Please don’t take us out of school for no reason again,” Ryan said.
“We didn’t take you out for no reason. Swine flu had the potential to be worse than the avian flu, and the avian flu killed close to fifty thousand people in the U.S.. We weren’t ready for it at all, and it really scared us,” Alex said.
“But nothing happened, and it was embarrassing. Plus, it took me forever to catch up! Remember some of the teachers didn’t want to let me make up some of my tests?”
“That won’t happen again,” Kate assured him.
“What does a pandemic do to you?” Emily asked.
“Sweetie, the pandemic flu makes you really, really sick. Worse than you’ve ever been before. That’s why people get a flu shot every year.”
“To keep from getting the pandemic flu?”
“No, you get the shot for the regular flu, which can make you pretty sick, too. The pandemic flu is worse though,” Kate said.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. No one in this family will get sick, I promise. Just finish your dinner and start your homework. Then we can have some dessert,” Alex said, glancing furtively at Kate.
Chapter 4
Kate and Alex sat together on a dark brown leather sectional couch in the great room. The flat-screen TV showed FBC news anchor Kerrie Connor framed next to Dr. David Ocampo, Director of the ISPAC’s Live Trend Analysis Division. Information displayed at the bottom of the split screen indicated that Dr. Ocampo was broadcasting live from ISPAC headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia.
“Rewind to the part about the WHO underestimating the flu’s potential,” said Alex.
Kate scrolled back to the segment.
“That’s it. Right there,” Alex said.
“…During the avian flu pandemic, hospital-based care remained available to a majority of sick patients, at least in most modernized and developing countries. This drastically improved outcomes and contributed decisively to the low overall case fatality rate. Although the situation in many developing nations approached—and in some cases crossed—the tipping point, most modernized nations’ systems were never truly challenged by the 2008 pandemic. This outcome would be different in the face of a deadlier and more infectious virus. The tipping point for inpatient healthcare availability, in both modernized and developing nations, would be reached quickly, and the result would be catastrophic.”
“Even for the United States?”
“Everywhere. In any given area, we calculate that all available inpatient services such as hospital beds, ventilators, and medical staff would be occupied within two to three weeks of a pandemic reaching that area. In the U.S. alone, based on 1918 pandemic flu patterns, every existing hospital bed would be occupied within a few weeks. Once inpatient capacity is filled, patients would be given a set of home-based care instructions and turned away.”
“Turned away? Where would they be sent?”
“Home.”
“Turn it off. I can’t watch anymore. This is really freaking me out.”
“I know, me too. Sorry to make you re-watch,” Alex said shutting the television and snuggling close to Kate.
“I just can’t believe the predictions that this thing could fill every hospital bed in the country within a couple of weeks. Being sent home to care for oneself doesn’t really sound like a winning option,” she said.
“No that’s why we have to make sure to not get the flu. The best way to ensure our safety is to quarantine ourselves until this blows over.”
“I agree, but when do we start?” she said pulling the blanket over them.
“I don’t know. Let’s just keep watching the reports and be flexible. We’ll know when it is time.”
“Gotcha,” said Kate with a loud yawn.
“I should check out our stockpile. I haven’t been down there in a long time, and it couldn’t hurt to see what we have on hand. I’ll be up in a few minutes. Why don’t you head to bed?”
“I think I will, I’m beat. Love you,” said Kate as she tiredly lifted herself off the couch.
Alex descended the unfinished stairs, which emptied into a large, well-lit, unfinished area encompassing two-thirds of the total available basement space. The area was filled with lawn furniture, several bicycles, two kayaks, assorted luggage, and a working refrigerator. Stacks of fifty-gallon plastic storage bins that held everything from summer clothing to painting supplies clung to the front wall of the basement, next to the stairway. Everything without a place in the upper floors of the house ended up stored in one of the bins, often never to be seen again.
He headed toward a door near the back of the basement, just beyond the spare refrigerator, removing a key chain from his pocket on the way. After unlocking the deadbolt and doorknob, he opened the heavy, reinforced door and reached into the pitch-black room to flip the light switch along the wall. Three overhead light bulbs, spaced evenly from front to back, exposed “the bunker.”
Unlike the basement area behind him, the bunker was immaculate and well organized. Floor to ceiling storage shelves stood flush against most of the outer concrete walls. In the back corner of the house, directly across from the door, stood two 275-gallon fuel oil tanks for the furnace.
A generator configured to store the electricity generated by their south facing rooftop solar panels, dominated the middle of the room. The full bank of green LED lights indicated that the system was fully charged and operational, free of any detected faults.
He glanced over his shoulder at a five-foot–tall, black metal gun locker. The locks were opened by the same key, which hung on a small nail, hidden nearby in the basement rafters. The numerous weapons inside were clean, oiled, and ready for action. The locker also held a considerable supply of ammunition.
Turning toward the fuel tanks, Alex checked their levels. One tank was completely full; the other two-thirds. Three years earlier, he’d installed the second tank, in response to skyrocketing oil prices. He filled both tanks when the prices were lowest during the year, stretching the fuel during the coldest months of winter. Alex scratched a note in his pad: Fill second oil tank.
After the tanks, he started a detailed inventory of the entire locker, starting with their water supply. The Fletchers were in the habit of using and replacing the stored two-gallon water jugs on a weekly basis. A long bank of eight metal storage shelves extended from the door to the front concrete wall of the basement, containing spring water in two-gallon containers. Each four-level shelving unit held thirty of these containers, all on the lowest three shelves to keep the units from tipping. Five hundred gallons of water in total.
Every container was marked with the date of purchase, and each week, one of the oldest containers was removed and placed in the kitchen for consumption. During their grocery runs, the used container would be replaced, ensuring that the water supply stored in the basement was slowly turned over throughout the course of the year, preventing the inevitable decay of the plastic containers.
The system employed to rotate water through the shelves was also applied to most other stockpiled items. They regularly rotated food, water, medical supplies, batteries and other shorter shelf-life items into their daily lives, and replaced them on a weekly—or at least monthly—basis.
The Fletchers started their stockpile by first purchasing all of the shelving units, which had cost a small fortune, and slowly filling them with essentials. Purchasing a few items in each essential category, once or twice a week, until the shelves were filled with enough food and supplies to last a year.
In addition to the usual food and medical supplies, Alex made sure the family had enough prescription medications to weather any storm. At the end of the water row, he faced the first of eight shelving units placed along the front basement wall of the house. The first shelving unit contained health and medical supplies. The top shelf was fully stocked with over-the-counter medication: Motrin, Tylenol, Sudafed, and antihistamines. He grabbed a few to check their expiration dates, his random spot check finding nothing ready to expire.
Prescription drug samples occupied the shelf below. He had slowly and surreptitiously acquired from various physicians’ offices throughout his sales territory. Their stockpile contained over forty courses of antiviral therapy split between TerraFlu and Tamiflu. If a pandemic struck, he planned to reserve two courses of TerraFlu and one course of Tamiflu for each member of his own family, leaving twenty-eight courses for neighbors and friends. A quick look through the expiration dates on the medications reassured Alex that all were still in usable condition.
The bottom two shelves contained first aid supplies and vitamin supplements. Most of the space was dedicated to first aid, filled with gloves, masks, assorted size and shaped bandages, compresses, triangular bandages, medical tape, scissors, antiseptic solution, antibiotic ointment, gauze, eyewash, thermometer, hand sanitizer, several first aid manuals, instant cold packs, and alcohol wipes.
Two makeshift portable first aid kits sat on the floor in front of the unit. He had bought these military-style “butt packs” and attached two aluminum D-rings to their straps, so that they could be hooked onto anything. Each kit was filled with the basics for treating wounds and minor illnesses. One of the kits was marked with medical tape and contained a basic surgery kit. He spied several bottles of children’s and adult vitamins tucked away among the medical supplies.
The remaining shelving units contained food items. Dozens of large airtight plastic canisters filled with grains, beans, cereals, sugar, nuts, seeds, tea, dried mushrooms, dried peas, and other dried vegetables. The shelves also housed canned goods, which were regularly rotated. Checking the dates on a few of the containers, satisfied him that the food also remained fresh.
Overall, their food supply was more than adequate to last a year, possibly longer. He noted: “Buy more toilet paper.” This reminded him to make another note. “Go to Home Store and buy four large plastic buckets and lots of trash bags for makeshift toilets.” The batteries, camp stoves, fuel and candles were all fresh and abundantly stocked on the shelves. Standing silent and ready for the next disaster.
He made another note: “Fill up empty gas containers. Fill up cars.” They had several empty gas containers in the garage—enough to hold about twenty gallons of gasoline.
He glanced at the gun locker on his way out. The locker held a Colt AR-15A3, a Mossberg 590 shotgun and two semiautomatic pistols—plus adequate ammunition for each weapon.
Standing back and looking over the massive overstuffed room of supplies took his anxiety about the pandemic down a few notches. He took the defense of his family seriously and made sure they were well prepared, no matter what happened. Even if the raging pandemic became as bad as predicted, he knew the Fletchers would survive, he would ensure they did.
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