Chapter 5

Two weeks earlier...

Two sailors of the USS Abraham Lincoln aircraft carrier stared over at the massive bulk of the USS Gerald Ford aircraft carrier. The giant aircraft carrier had preplaced the Reagan after it sank in the North China Sea. Sitting off the shore of California, the two strike groups were supposed to be doing joint maneuvers but, instead, they just floated together.

"Damn, that thing is huge," Leo Thorpe muttered to Lionel Thorpe.

"Yep, and in a few years, the new Lincoln will be the same size," Lionel revealed, then asked, "How do you feel about shore leave getting cancelled?"

"I could care less one way or the other; Aries is still on the fish, and I won't get to see him for at least a month," Leo complained.

"Lieutenant Thorpe." The ExO called out to them, and they both turned around.

Juanna Cortez blinked and then shook her head with an annoyed expression. She hated having siblings on the same boat. "Captain Lansing wants to see Lieutenant Lionel immediately. Something about your grandmother? I guess you better go too, Leo."

Both men saluted then bolted up the stairs.

"Do you think... She's dead?" Lionel muttered over his shoulder to his fraternal twin.

"God, I hope it's that... She was sure... that city they found last year... was the one... with the plague," Leo panted out as they arrived at the captain's office.

The Lincoln's chief medical officer blinked at them, "Catch your breath." He looked over the Thorpes then asked, "What do you know about the captain's order that we take on no supplies containing a food preservative called Pharaoh's Yeast."

Lionel, who was a marathoner, had his breath first and gasped out, "It's dangerous. It was discovered after World War One and killed almost everyone who ingested it after a few weeks. It seems safe, but it isn't. Last summer, the food industry paid billions to get it approved for use to make up for the fact they couldn't get the animal safety testing done because animals are smart enough to starve rather than eat it. Why?"

"You sound like one of those conspiracy theory nuts," the Ford's chief medical officer announced as he entered the room. They all saluted when Admira Lansing stepped out with his son Captain Lansing.

"He's not wrong, Don. Lionel and Leo Thorpe are the direct descendants of Lord Carnarvon through his granddaughter who was one of three survivors of the initial discovery of this pathogen. My grandfather barely survived... And we have not had a single case of this new pathogen causing Pandemic Five fungal pneumonia. There are over two hundred ships with it in the Navy, but no one in our fleet has shown symptoms," the admiral insisted, and his son nodded.

"You can't be certain it is this organic food preservative," the doctor refuted him.

Looking past him, Captain Lansing looked at Leo, "Lieutenant Leo, all your grandmother, then join us. Lieutenant Lionel, why don't you come in and tell the good doctors your great-grandmother's story while we wait for the call to connect."

The brothers glanced at each other. They had always dreaded the day when their great-grandmother's worry became a reality. The story she told them both as young boys about why people should always keep cats sounded fanciful, but the pictures were so old they could not have been faked, then joining the Navy, Lionel met first Captain Lansing then Admiral Lansing. He knew immediately who they were and asked if they knew the story. The Admiral's grandfather was Sargeant Major Lansing.

^-,-^

The eight-year-old twins stood on their great-grandmother's steps looking down the street at Patterson Park. Their mother's boyfriend told them to get out, then drove off with her without even letting her out of the car.

"Do you want to knock?" Leo asked.

"No, you knock," Lionel snapped, "You're the oldest."

"Just knock." Leo snapped and shoved his brother. Lenny shoved him back and they began to tussle, arguing about who would do it.

Suddenly the door swung open and a half-dozen cats came out. "What do you boys think you're doing?" The silver-haired woman demanded in an imperious tone.

They looked at her in shock then Leo pulled a letter out of his pocket, stammering, "M-mom s-said to g-give you th-this, ma'am."

She read the letter and her scowl deepened, making her look fierce and determined, but then she glanced at the boy's then sighed, softening her expression. "I am your great-grandmother Theodora; it looks like you will be spending the summer with me. I only have two rules, listen to what I say with an intelligent and open mind, and don't harm the cats."

^-,-^

Hours passed while Lionel shared all he had learned growing up and in school about the possibilities of a disease he had never seen in person. Leo stood or sat silently the entire time. The admiral listened and added details his grandfather had told him. The doctors and officers from other ships were shocked to say the least. An off-duty Secret Service Agent went at Theodora's house and set up a camera so she could video conference with them over a secure satellite uplink. After hours, they ended the call and retired to the captain's mess for dinner.

The JAG officers glanced at them all, then the team leader asked, "Why wasn't the government notified of this? Or Strategic Command?"

The Admiral straightened his spine, taking on a fierce expression. "They were and they tried to retire me. The politicians didn't listen because they wanted the money and if it went wrong, they thought they would still have an undead workforce. The infected undead continue their routines in a manner of speaking. My grandfather and Lady Carnarvon-Thorpe both reported the dead soldiers returned to digging out the temple, which was what they did before they succumbed but then they became violent. The ancients claimed then infected bit anything that bled like wolves... The governments of the world have been chasing this place since Lord Carnarvon and his party died of it. Imagine an army of soldiers who died and then got back up after being shot and continued fighting until all the enemy were dead or bitten and dying?"

He appraised around at the horrified looks of the men and women who stopped eating. "My grandfather fled because they were going to lobotomize him to keep the secret. It was only fate that he had an American friend who was a spy to help him escape to America. The old guard understood the danger to us all, but these new politicians think they can maintain control if they just throw money and regulations at a problem. Now, they have been slowly adding that stuff to the food supply and feeding it to people for at least one month, perhaps longer. They are using it to keep food from spoiling rather than dealing with the real underlying problems of the current famines and climate change."

The admiral stood and they all stood with him. "I know what you have learned today is troubling and unbelievable. I made many decisions to keep the Pacific fleet safe that some of you didn't agree with. I hope you understand now. We will reconvene in the morning to discuss the need to protect ourselves as the last intact American defense force. The public will need us to rescue them soon. Goodnight." He walked out as they saluted.

"Zombies... Fungus zombies... I can't believe it," the Lincoln's Chief Medical Officer muttered.

"I can," the Ford's doctor retorted. "Fungal Zombiism occurs in insects all over the world. Thorpe, is your grandmother certain the source is extra-terrestrial?"

"Sir, she told you what the papyrus said. A sunstone as described is a meteorite. My great-grandmother as an eidetic memory, she hasn't forgotten a moment of her life or any document she has ever read," Lionel answered as Leo nodded.

"That means in two to three weeks, everyone on the mainland is going to start dying and coming back, if they haven't already."

Captain Lansing looked at Lionel. "I want everything you know on the ship's social media blog page, yesterday... We can only hope people will read it and believe."

"Yes, sir."

The captain of the destroyer/spy ship A. Burke threw his pen on the tablet he took notes on. "I can't believe they poisoned our civilian population just to make a longer lasting can of soup... I'll get my people on scouring the social media sites. We need to find a way to get those who aren't infected off the mainland or at least to a safe place."

"That might be a problem. The CDC has put the country on level three lockdown, they still think it is an airborne pathogen," the ExO of the Ford announced. "At the rate of spread, they will be at level two in two or three weeks."

Captain Lansing nodded to his ExO, "Get some rest, we have the end of the world to start planning for tomorrow."

^-,-^

Two weeks later, Baltimore.

Hours later, Babs woke up. Her chest was tight, but she was breathing easier. She went to the security room on the first floor. It was dark on the security camera, but she could see the man was still waiting in the garage near the door. Scowling, she dialed 9-1-1 then ended up leaving another voicemail on the nonemergency line. She called Mrs. Pratt to warn her about the lingering drunk.

"Hello?"

"Mattilda, it's Babette. Don't go outside. There is a violent drunk wandering around outside the library. I called the police to come collect him," Babs explained as she started putting her groceries away and pulling the bags she had hastily stuffed in the refrigerator out to unpack them. She felt so tired, almost feverish, and achy, that she just wanted to go back to sleep, and she sniffed.

"Oh my. Are you okay? You aren't sick?" Mattilda sounded very worried.

"Yes.. I mean no... I'm fine... I pepper sprayed him, and breathed in a little, but I got away and then locked myself inside. Do you need anything before I go to bed?" Babs yawned.

"No, hon. I'm fine. Thanks for letting me know. I... I can't reach my grandkids. I might go check on them and stay for a few days," Mattilda announced.

"When I delivered Mrs. Thorpe's groceries and books, the guy at the US-40 checkpoint told me they were changing the curfew times," Babs revealed. "They moved us to level two."

"Thanks for telling me. You take care and call me if you need anything tonight." She sounded suddenly very grim and determined. "And Babette, thank you for all you do to take care of the library and protect the books."

"Yes, ma'am. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, hon."

On the security camera feed, Babs watched the man standing at the loading dock like he couldn't figure out how to climb the three steps. A car went by, and he stumbled back out to the street. Shaking her head, she wondered what he was on. She decided from the smudges around his mouth and nose that he was probably a huffer, but she couldn't figure out why it would be around his eyes. Thinking about Mattilda and that she might leave in the morning, Babs decided to lure him to the other side of the block in hopes he would wander away. Going out the front of the library, she noted how eerily quiet the city was as she walked through the fog to the corner.

"And this is how you die in a horror movie," she taunted herself quietly to bolster her courage.

The drunk was standing in the road.

"Hey, hey you. I called the cops, you better get outta here," she shouted at him.

When he started shuffling toward her, she sprinted up to the front of the library. Peeking around the corner, and holding her breath so she wouldn't wheeze, she watched him stumble across the street, but he didn't turn to follow her; he just kept going north on Park Avenue. Going inside, Babs relocked and dropped the security gate on the front door. Breathing slowly while walking around, she checked all the windows to make certain none were damaged then she glanced out the windows at the Unity Baptist Church, the bricks looked blood-red in the mists and streetlights. Across from the front of the library, she looked at the closed Sisters' Soup Kitchen next to the Baltimore Catholic Basilica, with its white marble façade and roman architecture. It looked like a mausoleum. She shuddered.

The city looked creepy in the fog and streetlights, not at all like San Francisco. It felt like death was blanketing the city. Babs shivered involuntarily again then went to the third floor. She pulled a paperback cozy romance off the shelf and went back to her apartment. Looking at the clock, she realized she was an hour late to take her antidepressant and that she only had fifteen left. She used her phone to send in a refill request for it, her inhaler, and allergy pills. She also submitted her grocery order pickup. Two weeks was plenty of time for Bill to get better. On her flat screen, she started a video tour of the Appalachian Trail in Autumn then settled in and escaped into the book.

The next morning, the police still had not called or come. She called Mattilda and told her that the man had wandered away. Across the street, she saw a few people wandering up and down the sidewalks, most were going into the churches, and none came to get books, so she thought about her visit to Mrs. Thorpe rather than worry and panic about not hearing from Bill.

She ran her coat and gloves through the machine three more times to get all the cat hair off and still ended up using package tape to pull the last of the fur from the coat. "Why does she have to be obsessed with cats?" Babs wondered aloud while checking her laundry during her breaks. She gave up on her cotton gloves and threw them away in favor of a new pair. She did not understand how cat fur could stick to everything the way it did.

She had started calling the hospitals at noon when she hadn't heard from Bill, but no one knew if he had come there, when someone answered. One coughing nurse yelled at her that if he had come to a hospital then he was already dead and had been cremated, before going on a rant that they were all dead and the city should be burned. Babs hung up on the woman's terrifying outburst. At five p.m., she left her desk and turned down the lights. That night she watched the news for the first time in weeks.

"It's official folks, the Federal Quarantine Department says we are going back on level two lockdown. Your zones and errand days are the same as last time. If you don't know what yours are then log into Baltimore Civil Services webpage to see the maps. If the infection rate increases above 60% confirmed infections, the FQD will go to level one, and remember, there is no leniency for offenders if we go to level one..."

The anchor talked about mask and glove precautions even for those meeting outdoors. The limitations on purchasing disinfectants and PPGs. Then another man spoke of the return to cashless sales, the effect on the economy, and that all public buildings were closed for the next two weeks. Babs groaned, because it meant the library would be closed too. No one would pick up or order books delivered. When the announcer started talking about the news from the CDC and how the disease was some sort of fungal pneumonia causing respiratory failure, Babs turned off the volume to wait for the weather. A cheerful blond with a slight cough, announced the weather would be mild and dry with overnight temperatures dropping into the forties. They made a joke about only seeing the fall foliage from the other side of the windows again this year before a bald man talked about the cancelled NFL season.

Uncaring about sports, she turned off the news, leaving the channel on the weather station, just to hear someone else's voice. She texted Bill again, begging him or a nurse if anyone read the text to please call her, then she went to sleep after her usual rounds to check the library. There was nothing she could do but wait it out.