The Voyage

The Voyage

Book one of the Plague World Series

Thomas Sholar

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Thomas Sholar

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Thank you

Prologue

Aashif looked up and adjusted the cover on the air freshener. Satisfied that it was in place, he smiled. Allah be praised, my task is finished. He sneezed violently and pulled out his handkerchief. And not a moment too soon, all praises to Allah.

Stooping, he picked up his tools then left the men’s bathroom. He walked through the main terminal of Grand Central Station, and as he did, he sneered at the people he passed and whispered to himself, They are all dead and they don’t even know it. Allah’s breath will strike them all and lay low the Infidels. Only we, his chosen will be spared, Allah be praised!

As he reached the door he sneezed again and absently pulled out this handkerchief wiping his nose as he left the building. Once outside, he walked over to the white van waiting at the curb. He put his tools in the back and then got in the cab on the passenger side.

The man in the driver’s seat looked at him. Is it done?

Aashif smiled. Yes Ubaydah, praise be to Allah! Soon they will all be dead.

Ubaydah looked skyward and held his hands out palms up. Allahu akbar! The Christian God will fall and along with him the Infidels that follow him. We are the instrument of his wrath and all shall tremble at his whispered breath.

When he had finished his tirade, Ubaydah put the truck in gear and they pulled away from the curb heading to their next stop, the Chrysler building. Smiling, he looked over at Aashif. We only have four more stops to do and our work is finished. Then we can sit back and watch them all die.

He noticed that Aashif was sweating profusely. Are you not well my friend?

Aashif looked at him and smiled as he mopped his brow with the handkerchief. It is nothing, a minor cold and nothing to what they will be feeling in a couple days! They will choke on their own vomit and die knowing their God is weaker! Ubaydah smiled and clasped his friend on the shoulder as he drove on.

At Grand Central, men came and went to the bathroom on the main concourse. By the end of the day, more than a thousand had done so and none of them had noticed the quiet hiss of the air freshener as it cycled innocuously. They had gone about their day as if nothing strange had happened. But each of them unwittingly inhaled something new, something that would change the world.

Later that day as Aashif left the lobby of the Liberty Tower, he was shaking. He got into the van and looked over to Ubaydah. Take me back to the safe house. I need to lie down.

Ubaydah nodded and pulled from the curb. Should I take to you the doctor? You do not look well.

Aashif shook his head. No, let us not bother him with a minor cold. He is much too busy for that.

Ubaydah frowned. What if you have the sickness?

Aashif scoffed at him, Impossible! The doctor assured us that we were immune and that his vaccine would protect all the faithful.

Ubaydah slowly nodded as he returned his gaze to the road. It is as you say, Aashif. The faithful will be spared, praise be to Allah!

They returned to the safe house and Ubaydah warmed up some soup for his friend. When he returned to the living room Aashif was much worse. I have food for you.

Aashif shook his head. I am not hungry. I think I will just sleep. He got up from the table and started to the bedroom then turned. Do not fear, Ubaydah, I will be fine. When we wake in the morning we will go see the doctor.

The next morning, Aashif did not come out of his room. Ubaydah knocked lightly on the door. Aashif, it is time to go. He waited for a minute then tried the door. He opened it to find the room dark. He called to Aashif again. Are you there? Why are you not awake?

He turned on the light and jumped back. Horrified, he looked down on the floor next to the bed and slowly backed away from what he saw. Aashif was face up with his eyes open, both were clouded white. His tongue was swollen and protruded from blackened lips. His back was arched impossibly and his hands, frozen in grim claws, reached for the ceiling. The smell was horrid as he had voided his bowels and urinated in his pants.

Ubaydah covered his mouth and quickly left the room closing the door hard. I must tell the doctor immediately!

He ran from the safe house and slid to a stop at the van door. He reached in his pocket and fumbled for the keys. Shaking violently, he pulled them out and promptly dropped them and cursed, Ibn himar!

He stooped and picked them up and unlocked the van, his hands still shaking. He jumped in and quickly starting the motor and slammed it in reverse. He thrust his foot down on the accelerator, and the van backed into the trashcans at the curb, noisily scattering them across the alley. He then forced the shifter into first, grinding the gear and again pushed down the gas pedal forcibly.

Speeding down the alley, he mumbled to himself, The doctor assured us we were safe. Now we will all die! What have we done! Allah will not protect us, we are doomed! That was the last thought he had as he exited the alley and was promptly hit by a garbage truck full on the driver’s side. He died instantly, never carrying his warning to the doctor.

***

That day it began. By six p.m. the hospital emergency rooms began to fill with people exhibiting symptoms that at first looked like Swine Flu. The doctors called the Center for Disease Control to ask for assistance and the first scientist arrived around midnight.

It was around three in the morning when the initial deaths were reported. By noon the death toll was in the thousands. The CDC was at a loss and samples were sent to Atlanta to be studied at its main facility.

That night, men in black suits arrived and asked to speak to the director of the CDC command center. They were escorted to him and they handed him a single sheet of folded paper. The director pulled out his reading glasses, unfolded the paper and began to read aloud.

"Infidels, this time we have no demands, other than your deaths! You will by now have discerned that the epidemic you are facing is fatal. This letter is to inform you that it is also deliberate! The pestilence is called Allah’s Breath and is fatal to all non-believers. For too long have we endured you Infidels, for too long have you oppressed our people and killed our children. Now it is you who will die! For Allah’s Breath will be the mighty weapon of Allah to scourge you all from the planet leaving it a paradise for all true believers and the faithful.

So die and be gone, there is no cure and by the time the sun has risen two more times, you will all be dead! PRAISE BE TO ALLAH! ALLAHU AKBAR!"

The director looked up in disgust. They didn’t even sign it to take responsibility. They have started the most lethal plague in the twenty-first century and possibly wiped out humanity and they didn’t even want the credit for it.

The black-suited men’s faces remained blank. One asked, What is your response for Eagle?

The director looked down at the note again. Tell him I am working on a vaccine. Tell him to seal the city now and have them destroy the bridges and declare martial law.

Then he looked up and into the man’s eyes. Tell him to pray.

Chapter 1

The fire watch pounded on the door and yelled, Wake up call for sergeants!

Tim rolled over and groaned. The one thing he had hated about the Marine Corps was getting up early, and zero five hundred in the morning was just too damn early. He stretched and kicked off his blankets and then sat up on the edge of his rack. He sat there for a moment and contemplated crawling back into bed, but just as soon as the thought crossed his mind he banished it and instead rose and crossed the room to the small table in the corner where he sat down heavily.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned, trying to wake up. Finally he spotted a pack of smokes on the table and reached out for them, fumbling with the pack for a second before removing one. He grabbed the lighter lying next to the pack and lit the cigarette, inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled with a gentle sigh.

Now that’s better, he said to himself as he smiled and leaned back. There’s nothing like a good smoke to wake you up. He sat there in the dark enjoying the nicotine rush until his eyes fell on the small digital clock above the fridge. The red glowing display showed three fifty-five A.M. Tim’s smile vanished instantly as he took another drag from his smoke and then violently crushed it out in the ashtray.

What the hell! He cursed through gritted teeth.

He had put in a wakeup call in for five, so why did the fire watch wake him up over an hour early? He got up from the table and crossed to the door and jerked it open. He thrust his head out into the hall he looked around for someone to yell at. Finding no one, he finally growled and no one in particular, What is hell going on? Why did you wake me so early?

Then he noticed several of the other sergeants leaving their rooms; they too, it seemed, had also been awakened. Tim ducked back into his room, grabbed his shaving kit and a towel and then started to the head. As an afterthought, he stepped back in the room and hit is roommate’s foot and said, Rise and shine Morden, something’s up. They’re waking everyone.

Sergeant Morden, a big Samoan, had been his roommate since he was stationed on Okinawa. Morden hated morning almost as much as Tim so he just moaned and rolled over. Tim just shook his head and closed the door, heading back to the head. When he got there he found it was already very busy. Making a quick scan of the bathroom he spotted and empty sink and he walked over and put down his shaving kit.

Looking up he stared and the image in the mirror. Sergeant Tim Hartmann was just twenty-six years old but had already been in the Marines for nine years. He had joined to impress his high school sweetheart, a young blond he had been seeing since he was a sophomore. He had been gone only six months before he got the Dear John letter. What a fool I was, Tim thought to himself as he eyed himself in the mirror.

Tim stood just over six feet tall and was lean and muscular. He gazed at the small scar over his right eye and then smiled remembering the fight in Bangkok where he’d gotten it in. His eyes were blue and his hair, what remained after his Marine haircut, was dark brown. He noted that his hair was starting to grey around the sides and he rubbed his chin as he shook his head and said to no one in particular, I am getting too old for this shit.

He turned on the water and waited for it to warm up, and as the steam rose he got out his soap and brush. Tim used the old style of shaving cream, a gift from his grandfather. He had also given him a straight razor, but Marine regulations would not allow him to have it in the barracks, so he had settled for a safety razor. He wet the brush and lathered it up. As he finished soaping his face, another Marine stepped up to the sink next to him. He picked up his razor and started to shave. Morning, Evans, what’s up? Why are they waking us so early?

Sergeant Evans was a squirrely little Marine that worked in administration, what most Marines called an ‘Office Poge’. Evans turned to him excitedly. They’ve put the entire unit is on alert.

Time rolled his eyes and scoffed, Another bullshit drill?

Evans looked at Tim, No, didn’t you hear the news?

What news? Tim responded as he calmly shaved his neck.

Evans could hardly contain himself. The Swine Flu epidemic in New York City is really a terrorist attack.

Tim almost cut himself. He stopped shaving and looked over at Evans. What the hell are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke?

No. Evan explained, I just heard overheard the Captain talking about it.

Well what did they say is going on?

Some radical Muslim group has taken responsibility for the deaths.

Well whoopty-fuckin’-do! Tim answered, rolling his eyes. What’s that got to do with us? Why are we on alert?

Evans shrugged. They feel it may be part of a combined attack on US targets.

Tim paused to think about what he had just heard, and then asked, How many people have died so far in New York?

Well, I heard the captain say the death toll has reached over one million, Evans told him without batting an eye.

Now Evans had his complete attention. Tim turned to him, disbelief in his eyes, You’re shittin’ me! Overnight?

Yes, that is what has them so concerned. It’s killing people at an alarming rate.

Tim slowly nodded as what Evans told him sunk in then he turned back to his mirror. Thanks for the heads up Evans.

Tim was stunned. Yesterday there had only been a few hundred reported deaths; overnight that had changed drastically. Now he understood why they were getting up so early. He quickly finished shaving and took a rushed shower. He dried off and hurried back to his room. When he opened the door he found Morden still sleeping so he turned on the light and stripped back his blankets.

Get up Morden! There’s major trouble stateside, Tim said as he opened his locker.

Morden rolled over and jumped down from his rack and groaned, What gives bro?

Tim started to put on his uniform as he brought Morden up to speed. Evans just told me that the whole unit is on alert. Seems they were wrong about the Swine Flu in New York. It’s a terrorist attack.

Morden stretched and walked over to the refrigerator. He pulled out an energy drink and sat at the table then asked, So what’s that got to do with us? That’s on the other side of the world, bro.

Because there are over one million dead, Tim explained. Whatever they used is extremely lethal. They’re afraid they may strike other targets now. Better get ready quick so we can go down and talk to LT and see what’s going on.

Morden finished his drink and stood up. Give me five minutes, bro, I’ll be right back. Morden grabbed his shower gear and hurried out the door.

***

In the small village of Yomitan a clock radio came on and started to play music. The young girl lying in the bed next to it opened her eyes and stretched. Asa glanced over at the display; its pink numbers showed it was six-thirty. She sat up stretching again, and she rose and went to her bathroom. After her shower she was combing her hair in front of the mirror. The reflected image was of a slender girl of eighteen. She had long straight black hair and beautiful jade green eyes. She left the bathroom and got dressed in her school uniform. It was a blue pleated skirt with a white shirt that had a flap on the back that made her look like she was in the navy. She was glad that she was a senior and this would be the last year she would have to wear this uniform. She adjusted the pleats on the skirt, grabbed her backpack and headed down stairs.

Now it was time to put her plan into action. Asa was supposed to go shopping after school today but needed her allowance early to buy what she wanted. She figured that if she got up early and did some chores for her mom, she would be able to convince her to give her the money a day early. She threw in a load of laundry and then started the rice cooker. When she was done, she made some toast and coffee just to be safe and sat down to wait for her mother.

She was sitting at the kitchen table when her mother, Azami, came down, You’re up early. Is that coffee I smell?

Asa smiled innocently. I have to meet Suki before school, and yes, I made you a pot of coffee.

Where is your father? Azami asked.

He was gone when I got up. He must have gotten called in early, Asa explained.

Her mother walked over and sat at the table. Asa poured her a cup of coffee and then put a plate of toast down in front of her. Her mother looked up at her. What about you, have you eaten already?

I will get something at Suki’s, Asa told her as cleaned up.

Azami looked over at the counter. I see you started the rice already, thank you.

Yes, mother, I also started a load of laundry for you.

And what do I owe all of this help to? Azami asked, eyeing Asa suspiciously.

Asa tried to her best to look innocent. Why nothing, Mother, I just wanted to help you. Would you like some more coffee and toast?

Azami gave her a sideways look, which Asa tried to avoid. "OK, what are you after Asa?’

Asa could not contain herself anymore. She ran to her mother’s side. Well I was hoping to get my allowance early. Suki and I are going to the mall after school to buy some Clothes.

Azami chuckled. I thought it might be something like that. Then she smile at Asa, got up, walked over to counter and opened her purse. She pulled out some money and set it down next to Asa saying, Don’t tell your father I paid you early or he will be angry with me.

Asa smiled and grabbed the money. Thanks, Mom, you’re the best! Then she looked at the clock on the wall and jumped up. I’m late! She snatched up her books and ran to the door, pausing just long enough to say, I love you, Mom! before vanishing out the door.

Azami shook her head. Teenagers, what can you do? She rose and walked over to the open door. She looked outside and smiled. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, it was going to be a beautiful day. She bent down to pick up the paper, went to the living room and sat down to read. She opened up the newspaper and read the headline.

Mass Deaths in New York City - City Quarantined

She started to read the article and was horrified. Why can’t these people just get along? She tossed down the paper and got up to start her chores, trying not to think about the newspaper. After a few minutes she was humming quietly to herself and her life went back to normal.

***

A few miles away in the rural center of Okinawa, Jiro awoke and went to the window. He was a short man, just topping five feet four inches, but his elderly body showed that in his younger days he had been fit and strong. His white hair was short cut and his dark eyes still had just a hint of his youthful vigor. He looked out smiling broadly; it was going to be a fine day. The sun was just coming up and the sky was clear. He dressed and went to the kitchen where Yui had already made his breakfast. She roughly put his meal down in front of him and sat down. Are you going to fix the water pump today?

Jiro did not bother looking up at her and just said, Hai, I will get to it.

Will you get to it this morning? She chided. Or perhaps you will let it slip your mind again?

He had been putting the job off for two days and Yui was getting a bit angry.

Jiro waved off her verbal assault. I said I will get to it. That should be enough for you, old woman.

Yui did not slow her attack. If I have to carry one more bucket of water from the river you will be getting mud soup for dinner.

Jiro pushed his bowl away from him and stood. Fine! I will do it now, you old witch. He walked over to the door and put on his shoes. I will be back soon. I have to go to town and get some parts.

Yui gave him a long look. Don’t spend all day talking to Akio. You two are worse than old hens.

Without further comment Jiro turned and left, pretending he did not hear her. He started up the road that led to the hardware shop on the edge of town. It was a pleasant walk that passed several small farms, his neighbors. Jiro did not know them very well; he had only spoken to them once or twice in the past few years and then only in passing. A small creek followed the road, and Jiro took pleasure in the sound of the running water. He stopped half way to town and knelt by the water. He scooped up a handful and drank.

Life is good, Jiro said. The sun is shining, the water is cool and clean, and Yui is out of earshot. What could be better? He chuckled to himself as he stood and looked around. Yes, he thought, this is heaven. He continued down the road and finally arrived at the hardware store. He entered the small wooden structure and walked up to the counter. Oi! Akio, are you here?

A small man came out from behind a blind and bowed. Jiro my old friend, what brings you to town?

Jiro groaned, Yui is after me to fix the pump again. I need a rebuild kit.

Akio laughed. You had best not upset her Jiro or she may just throw you out.

Akio, I couldn’t get that lucky, Jiro said, grinning at this friend.

Is she giving you grief again? Akio asked.

Always, my friend, Jiro said, throwing his hands in the air. She is worse than an old crow.

Akio laughed and went behind the screen. A few minutes later he came back with a medium-sized box that he placed on the counter. Here you go Jiro. This should do the trick.

Jiro nodded and began to open the box. What do I owe you?

Akio opened a book and began to write. I will just put it on your tab. By the way, did you hear the news?

Jiro looked up from the box. What news?

Akio picked up a newspaper from a small stack and handed it to Jiro. The headline read: Mass Deaths in New York City - City Quarantined. Jiro looked up from the paper. Bah! New York City is a long way from here Akio. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. The Americans always have some crisis going on.

Akio laughed. You never change, old friend. You don’t care about anything unless it happens on your farm.

Jiro grinned. And why should I? It has nothing to do with me. If more people minded their own business the world would be a better place.

Akio nodded. Perhaps old friend. Then he grinned back at him. But it would be a bit boring.

Jiro wave his hand at him. Bah! I like boring. I will see you later. I had better get back before Yui comes looking for me. Then Jiro turned and left the small shop. As he walked back to his home, he stopped and pulled the newspaper back out and started to read the article. It was another terrorist attack, or so it seemed, but why were so many people dying? He decided that when he got home he would listen to the radio and see if he could get more information about it.

He was almost home when one of his neighbors came running over to him, Jiro! Have you heard the news?

Hai, Akio told me. Here is the paper, he said, holding the paper out.

The man took it and scanned the front page. Then he looked up at Jiro. I have just finished listening to the radio. They reports says that hundreds of thousands are dead and that the Americans have sealed off the city.

Jiro eyed him suspiciously. You must have heard it wrong. The Americans would never do something like that. Besides, it is the Americans’ problem, not ours. Let them take care of themselves. I have enough problems of my own. And that reminds me, I have to get home and fix a pump.

Jiro shook his box and without another word headed back down the road to his house. When he arrived home he called for Yui and after a minute the door slid open and she appeared. What do you need old man?

Jiro handed her the paper. Have a look at this. There is some kind of trouble in America.

Yui read over the article and looked up at Jiro. This is terrible, so many dead.

Jiro nodded. Go listen to the radio while I fix the pump, see if you can find out anything else. He turned and walked around back to the pump stall and started to work.

Inside, Yui turned on the radio. Music was playing so she went back to cleaning up the kitchen. About thirty minutes later she heard the music stop and an announcer break in with a report.

"It has now been confirmed that over one million have died overnight in New York City and that the city is now under quarantine. The plague which was which was at first thought to be a mutation of the Swine Flu, has now been officially confirmed as a biological attack by Muslim Fundamentalists from the radical sect Jihad Now. In a radio broadcast from within the city the group claimed responsibility, and that the contagion, which they call Allah’s Breath, will sweep through the West and purge the world of infidels.’

Yui walked to the back door and called to Jiro. He got up and walked over to the porch. The radio just confirmed the paper, Yui said. They say over one million Americans have died and that is was a terrorist attack.

Jiro looked at her. Did they say anything else? Is it going to affect us?

Yui shook her head. No, all they said was that it is killing Americans.

Jiro slowly nodded his head and smiled. See, it has nothing to do with us. Go back in and do your work. I will finish the pump. Jiro turned and walked back to the pump house.

***

Tim was sitting at the small table finishing a soda and smoking when Sergeant Morden returned and started to dress. Evans must be right, bro. Hutchinson said he also heard that there were over one million dead.

Tim put out his smoke and stood. Thing could go south quick, brother, be ready.

Morden glanced over and smiled. I hear you bro.

Tim smiled back at his friend. Let’s get downstairs and see what’s up.

Tim locked the door as they left and walked over to the squad bay pushing one of the double doors open slightly. Corporal Hines was yelling and had the troops moving. Tim smiled; Hines was a good man and an excellent squad leader and he had things well in hand. Tim let the door close, then turned and with Morden at his side, headed to the stairwell. When they got downstairs they saw Lieutenant Peirce, their new platoon leader, talking to the Company XO.

Tim liked Peirce. Peirce had played football in high school and looked like he belonged on a recruiting poster. A recent graduate from Annapolis, his first post after Officer Candidate School had been Okinawa. He had spent many hours talking with the young lieutenant and they had developed a strong friendship. The LT, as Tim had come to call him, had even shared stories about his wife and family.

The lieutenant looked up and made eye contact with Tim and motioned for him and Morden to come over. As he approached Tim asked, What’s going on LT?

The young lieutenant answered stiffly, Sergeant, all I know is that New York has been quarantined; no one in or out. They believe it to be some sort of terrorist attack. A Muslim fundamentalist group is taking responsibility.

Tim smiled as he looked over at Morden. God damn rag heads again. Don’t they ever learn?

Pierce did not laugh. Apparently not, Sergeant, and this time they really caused some damage.

Tim took the cue from the lieutenant and became all business, What are our orders, sir?

Get the men in their combat gear and ready to go, the lieutenant told him. We are on full alert. Formation is in fifteen minutes.

Tim came to attention. "Aye,