The Devil’s Peak II, page 8
Adoni exhaled despondently. “It is an aggressive universal mutagen.”
“The Hell plague,” Isabella said. “And it’s out now.”
“Can we stop it?” Leonidas asked.
“The fly. Octavius Conti is spreading it globally. We have seen the flies, large, fist-sized at a farm down the coast, and we have reports of them appearing everywhere. I believe he is laying eggs everywhere. Their bite is the inoculation, and then once infected, the others go on to infect more people, or more waterways.”
“Waterways?” Adoni asked.
“Yes. I took that sample from a cooler fed by the local water supply,” Isabella said. “I think the flies are diving into the water, and letting their disgusting bodies pollute the water that is drunk by the townspeople.”
“We can’t stop it everywhere. We can’t blow everything up like we did in Thrumster,” Marco said.
“I’d settle for being able to stop it anywhere,” Leonidas replied.
“If the plague is out and in the wild, then the only real hope is some sort of cure or vaccine,” Father Nico Bertolli said. He looked to Adoni. “Enzo, what are our chances?”
Adoni shook his head. “I’ve tried antibiotics, penicillin, even interferon to try and boost the body’s own defenses. Nothing works against this abomination.”
“There can never be no hope.” Bertolli folded his arms. “We just need to look harder.”
“I know, old friend, and we will.” Adoni half smiled as he held up a single finger. “There is only one potential vulnerability I can see.” He looked back at the multi-armed microorganism on the projected screen. “Do you know why viruses cannot be killed once they are in the body?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Because they are tiny and hide inside the cells. To kill the virus, you have to find it first, and then kill the cell. Not ideal. Our own white blood cells can identify infected cells and kill them, but they are wonderful in that they are selective. We have not found a way with our medicines to be that clever yet.”
“We have vaccines against viruses.” Leonidas frowned.
“We do. Sort of,” Adoni replied. “We have immunizations against viruses, and how they work is they rely on the body’s own defenses. We help prepare the body to defend itself from viruses. We give it a call to arms, so to speak.”
He turned back to the screen. “So, can you see it?”
“We can. It’s big, bad, and a nightmare.” Marco stared at the revolting parasite.
Adoni turned back. “Yes, and that’s just it – big – it’s a big bug. So big it can’t hide itself away inside the cell. And as long as it is free floating we have a chance against it.”
“You mean we can prepare our own system against it like an immunization?” Isabella asked.
“Maybe, I’m not sure. So far this thing eats T-cells like they’re popcorn before they can even fight back. They get overwhelmed. But I think that as it’s free floating, we just have to keep trying things to find, attack, and kill the microorganism. Somewhere out there is our silver bullet.” He smiled. “I’m hopeful.” His smile was a little fragile.
Isabella caught it. “And?”
“And that was the good news. The bad news is that once it is in the system its effects are so fast, and so irreversible, it means it moves too quickly for us to ever stop it.”
Isabella tilted her head back and shut her eyes for a moment. Her sigh turned into a groan.
“This is a nightmare,” she said and tilted her head forward. “While we’ve been sitting on our hands for millennia, the Devil has been planning this since mankind walked upright.”
“And the news gets worse,” Adoni said. “The plague is out, and being spread far and wide. It means more countries will be working on a cure, but the speed of the spread also means we are in a race for the future of the entire human species.”
“So, how do we fight something from Hell?” Marco asked.
Everyone turned to him.
He smiled. “With something from Heaven.”
Isabella nodded and began to smile. “Okay, clever guy, go on.”
“We know a lot about it, and Father Adoni can continue to investigate a cure or vaccine. But we need to get back to the Vatican, and search for different weapons.” He raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps we haven’t been sitting on our hands, and perhaps older and wiser heads than ours have been preparing for this time also.”
“Maybe they know where to find our silver bullet.” Isabella began to nod. “And we just need to look harder.”
CHAPTER 11
Arakwal National Park, Byron Bay, East Coast of Australia
The Cummins family hiked along the bush track – Pete out front, the kids, Marty and Phillip next, and lastly, Frida trying to keep up.
“There’s nothing to see,” Marty, the youngest at ten, whined.
“Maybe they’re hibernating because of the heat,” Frida suggested.
“Well, some animals do stay out of the midday heat, but they don’t hibernate this time of year.” Pete looked around. “Strange though, as we were told there’d be kangaroos, wallabies, goannas, and all sort of parrots in the trees.” He looked up at the branches, and saw nothing but leaves.
“I’m hot,” Marty kicked in again.
“Stop being a crybaby, it’s not that hot,” Philip, twelve, shot back, never missing an opportunity to badger his younger brother.
“That’s enough, Phillip.” Frida sighed, and wiped her brow. “But must be time for a break soon.”
Pete stopped and put his hands on his hips. “Soon.” He turned to grin. “But this is going to make that dip in the hotel pool all the more satisfying, right?”
“Aww, I wanna be there now.” Marty let his arms hang down heavily at his sides as if he was being tortured.
Pete took off his cap, wiped his brow with his wrist and stuck it back on. “Up ahead is a nice shady spot. We’ll break for a snack there, okay gang?”
“Yay,” Marty replied dismally.
In another fifteen minutes, they were underneath a large gum tree and Pete had broken out the coffee thermos, the cookies, and a few cut cheese sandwiches and soda for the boys.
The food vanished down the kids’ throats like a magician’s trick, and they immediately went off to scout.
“Don’t go too far,” Pete shouted.
He heard the boys using long sticks to whack their way through the bush. He was a little concerned, as he had read about the giant spiders, big bull-ants, and deadly snakes, and this time of year they were all out and about. But then again, they’d seen absolutely nothing and he was beginning to wonder if it had all been a tourist trap ploy.
He turned to Frida who sat staring off in the bush and holding her plastic cup with both hands. “I’m hot, and want to go swimming,” he said and grinned.
She laughed, and turned to him. “Me too, but don’t let the boys hear that.”
“We’ll head back when we finish here,” he said.
She held up a hand and smiled. “I second that.”
***
“Poo, what’s that smell?” Marty said.
“Reminds me of that time the Fosters’ cat got lost and they found it stuck in their wall after about three months, all boney and stinky,” Phillip replied.
They continued on, and soon saw something odd up ahead in a small clearing. “Look, there.”
Marty barged through the brush and held his stick out. “Is that a kangaroo? It’s so big,” he asked.
“A fucking dead one,” Phillip replied.
“You used the bad word.” Marty grinned and held a hand over his nose. “Stinks.”
The boys looked down at it. The kangaroo carcass was as big as a man, reddish in color, and its stomach cavity was open and filled with things that looked like jelly golf balls.
“Is that what they look like inside?” Marty frowned.
“I don’t think so.” Phillip held out his stick.
“Don’t, Phillip,” Marty warned.
“I just want to see what they are,” he said, and reached out further.
He couldn’t quite reach properly so scooted forward another foot on his haunches. He then tried again, and this time the end of his stick just made it to one of the jelly balls. He prodded it, and as soon as he did, something emerged from inside the kangaroo’s gutted body.
Phillip jerked upright, eyes like saucers and mouth open. Marty’s eyes also bulged from his head.
It looked like a fly, huge, bigger than his dad’s fist, but it had a weird tiny face, not like a fly’s but more like a person’s face, but with the stick-thing mouth parts.
The boys stared, frozen to the spot. The huge bug stared back.
And then it came at them.
***
“Dad, Dad!” The boys came crashing from the bush.
Pete was on his feet and running to them, and Frida dropped her cup.
Marty’s eyes were wide. “Big fly, monster, dead kangaroo, stink, we followed the smell…”
Pete grabbed the boy’s shoulders and looked into his face. “Slow down, slow down, and tell me,” Pete said. “Phillip, you first.”
Frida hugged Marty and Phillip swallowed dryly.
“We found a dead kangaroo, and pushed a stick into it. A big fly came out and followed us.”
“A fly?” Pete relaxed and began to smile. “And it chased you?” He looked over Phillip’s shoulder. “Must have turned back.”
Pete felt something on the back of his shirt, and thought it was Frida scratching at him with her nails to get his attention.
He turned and smiled, and saw she was five feet away. The clawing sensation got to his shoulder, and down in front of him Phillip pushed back from him and screamed.
He pointed. “There it is.”
Pete looked to his left and down into the face of the most grotesque thing he had ever seen in his life. He could have sworn it smiled up at him, before it darted forward and bit him on the side of his exposed neck.
The pain was excruciating. “Shit!” he screamed and slapped at it.
He just caught the end of it, feeling its weight and bristly oiliness as it zoomed away.
He placed his hand over the bite mark. It still stung.
“That’s it,” he said angrily. “Spiders, sharks, snakes, but no one said a damn thing about giant flies. Time to head back.”
“Yay.” The boys high-fived, the fly already forgotten.
CHAPTER 12
Australia, Eastern Coast – Port Macquarie
Police Chief Mike Lawler stood at the large window looking out at the dismal scene. Even the weather was conspiring to turn against them as thick, purple clouds boiled and swirled overhead, looking ripe and angry. Just looking at them gave him a sense of dread down deep in his gut. He could feel something bad was happening. And worse was coming.
He regretted not leaving when he had called for an evacuation. And now he couldn’t as the entire large town had been quarantined by the Australian CDC – no one in, no one out.
He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Ever since those Italian health specialists that had taken his officer, Angela Bennet, with them into Thrumster to check on some sort of infection things had gotten worse.
They went in, and mere hours later there came the huge explosion. And they never came back. Whatever happened in Thrumster was as bad as it got.
He sent another police team in there after them, and the radio calls had been insane, and horrifying. And then with a scream they were cut off, and that was the last he saw of them.
Lawler hoped the explosion signaled the end of it. But he was wrong because the first signs of the infection had come creeping out of the bush. First the animals had begun to flee in waves. Then it seemed to eat the forest as it came – everything turned black and rotten and seemed to melt before his eyes. Red veins that looked like they were pumping blood crept up over the building to strangle them.
Lawler sipped cold coffee from his vantage point and looked out over the township and towards the buildings closest to the edge of the forest. Many were covered in odd growths; things that looked like fungus, tendrils, but with their deep red color, he couldn’t help thinking they looked like when skin had been pulled back to reveal the blood pumping veins beneath.
The quick thinking, decisive people were gone. They threw bags in cars and left when they could. The others that heeded the evacuation order for the outer suburbs refused to go home so they had to be put up in sports halls, carparks, and vacant buildings in the other end of town.
There were entire families, grandparents, kids, pets, and the way they looked at him, haunted and silent, hoping for answers, broke his heart. Because he had none.
Maybe they were the lucky ones as the amount of people that either stayed or had vanished was alarming.
The sun was going down again, and night was worst. It seemed those revolting vein growths weren’t the only thing creeping out of the forest. He’d seen the reports of the strange animals and deformed people, and the horrible abominations, and all of them had a taste for flesh.
None of his officers wanted to go anywhere near the town outskirts after dark. Especially after the first few went in and simply never came home. And every single officer demanded to take a shotgun with them.
Lawler sipped his cold and bitter brew again. He wondered what would happen to the people when those weird veins covered all of the town. As they were quarantined, they were supposed to be locked down. But if the nightmare that was coming at them began to push from one side, and the authorities pushed back from the other, there was going to be violence. And bloodshed.
Lawler smiled, remembering the tourism tagline for the city – come visit Port Macquarie, where time does wonders.
Because time, he thought, was one thing that they didn’t have anymore.
CHAPTER 13
Los Angeles General Medical Center – Infectious Diseases Unit
Doctor Albert Finney stared in through the glass wall at the woman on the bed. Her name was Frida Cummins, mid-thirties, who arrived with her family yesterday evening and then fell sick. The other was her husband.
Frida, the father, Pete, and two boys, Marty and Phillip, all developed strange symptoms, with the husband Pete succumbing first. He was in the next room. The two young boys were being kept in separate quarantine rooms just a bit further along the corridor.
Right now they were all placed in induced comas, and Finney was absolutely lost as to what was happening and how to treat them.
Inside there was a nurse working in a hazmat suit. Underneath the suit she wore thick clothing as they had found that lowering the temperature seemed to slow the ravages of the infection down a little. And the ravages were monstrous.
Pete was farthest along, and his cell count of white and red blood cells continued to plummet while being replaced by the weirdest protein they had ever seen. It had to be an aggressive micro parasite, and was now being considered as a standalone organism.
But the thing was also acting as a mutagen, and not just corrupting his system’s physiology, but also deforming the actual physical flesh.
Doctor Albert Finney knew the family had just returned from a holiday in Australia, and he knew of no blood infection even remotely similar from that part of the world. This was entirely uncharted territory.
They had just administered the strongest cocktail of anti-viral, anti-plasmodium, and antibiotics they had in their armory as they had at first considered it to be some sort of necrotizing agent.
Finney wasn’t hopeful when he opened the microphone to the headset of Doctor Sonya Burrows. “Any improvement to the mother, Doctor Burrows?” he asked.
Burrows turned and shook her head.
He nodded, waved, and walked to the next isolation room. There were two beds inside with the two boys, both brothers corpse-like in their induced comas. And both suffering the same ravages of the parasite. He continued on to Pete’s room. Pete was further along the path to whatever he was becoming.
They were now at the try anything stage. Finney had taken the extreme option of amputating the man’s arm as it had begun to change into something not even remotely resembling human flesh.
In addition, it was displaying autonomous spasmodic movement – it seemed to have a life of its own.
To try and avoid the infection spreading back up his arm meant he decided to act quickly. So off it came mid bicep.
There were cameras fixed in his room and he focused in on Pete’s face – the man had been quite handsome when he came in and had only been suffering from nausea, headaches and a strange pustulant rash. But now, his hair had all fallen out, and his nose had rotted away and collapsed into the nasal cavity.
Though his arm had been removed above the elbow, there was the nub of something showing at the end of the stump as if new bone was growing out through the bandages. And that was accompanied by further extrusions appearing at his sides over the rib cage.
Pete was now in a heavy plastic canopy that acted as a form of hyperbaric chamber that had increased oxygen content to his blood and cells to try and boost his immune system. They had also brought the temperature down and it was now at around thirty degrees in there. But so far, the microorganisms in his system were slowed but not stopped.
If, when, Pete Cummins finally succumbed there would be no autopsy. He was going to have the body immediately incinerated, such was his concern about the unstoppable nature of the disease or whatever it was afflicting him.
Doctor Finney had contacted the CDC and put them on alert at the borders. However, he knew that this thing was already inside the gates now.
He had just authorized one last experimental treatment which was a beefed up anti-parasitic which was a combination of albendazole and mebendazole at near lethal levels, in the hope they could at least paralyze the parasite and maybe slow it down to give them more time to work on Pete.
The nurse entered his room, and took the syringe to the drip bag and inserted it into the feed valve. She injected the yellowish fluid in slowly and it seeped into his vein.
As Finney watched the monitor he glanced at Pete’s face and saw his eyes flicker, and then open. Finney felt a shock at the sight – they were totally black and in them he saw no remnant of a human being at all. They were more like the soul-dead eyes of a great white shark.
