Читать книгу Earth's New Beginning: The Sleeping Death Contagion - John Gleed - Страница 6

In the small town of Morrisburg, Ontario, Michael Warren was the only survivor. Morrisburg was situated on the north shore of the St. Lawrence River, across from the small town of Waddington in northern New York State and forty miles south of Canada’s capital city, Ottawa. Prior to SDC, the population of the town was about three thousand.

Michael had lived with his parents in Morrisburg all twenty-one years of his life. At the time of the catastrophe, he was working as a junior auto mechanic at the local Canadian Tire store. He became aware of the deadly contagion when the first news reports of unexplained deaths in Glens Falls were broadcast on the local radio on Thursday, July 16. Even though Glens Falls was only an hour’s drive from Morrisburg, he did not give this news much attention. He went on with his regular day at Canadian Tire, without any real concerns beyond what he was going to do with his friends on the weekend.

On Friday, things changed dramatically. The reports of large numbers of unexplained deaths in Glens Falls, New York and other cities in the United States became more and more urgent during the day. The first deaths in Canada were reported from Ottawa.

For Michael and his workmates, this was too close to home for comfort. Not much work was done on Friday afternoon, with employees and customers crowded around the television in the Auto Service waiting room. As they discussed the news and possible courses of action for themselves, they were not aware the SDC virus was already en-route to Morrisburg.

Three sources of infection reached Morrisburg on Friday. One family fleeing from Glens Falls had come to pay their relatives a surprise visit in Waddington. They had passed their infection to the owner of the local liquor store when they purchased beer and wine. On Friday afternoon, two Morrisburg residents had taken their boat on the short trip across the St. Lawrence River to pick up a couple of cases of cheap American beer from the Waddington liquor store. They were not aware that they had returned to Morrisburg with something more noteworthy than their weekend supply of cheap beer.

Several Morrisburg residents had jobs in Ottawa. When they returned home on Friday evening after a hard day’s work, two of them brought the SDC virus home with them. By the end of the day on Friday, more than a dozen Morrisburg residents were infected.

Several serious breakfast gatherings took place on Saturday morning to review and discuss the latest news about the rapidly spreading contagion. These breakfast meetings ensured SDC’s dispersal among the residents of Morrisburg, including Michael Warren and his parents, was almost complete by the end of the day. The news on the television that night was serious, but the only recommendation was not try to flee. However, a few people did leave hastily to go to their cottages in the nearby Rideau Lakes region. They were already too late to save themselves.

On Sunday morning, it was discovered that eight Morrisburg residents had died in their sleep during the night.

On Sunday night, almost everybody in Morrisburg died within an hour of going to sleep. The only exceptions were Michael Warren and three senior citizens who lived alone and had been too frail to leave their homes on Saturday.

Michael woke on Monday morning to find his worst fears had become a horrifying reality. He found his mother and father had died in their bed. He called 911, but ominously, no one answered the phone. All the local radio and TV stations from Ottawa, Watertown and Syracuse were transmitting prerecorded “stay calm and stay put” announcements. Otherwise, they were not transmitting at all. He went to his neighbors’ homes to try to get help. No one answered his desperate knocking and there were no signs of life. He called and texted all his friends and family on his cell phone without getting any responses.

He got into his car and drove frantically around the small town. It was deserted, even though it was now ten on a Monday morning. He called at the houses of all his close friends without getting any reaction. He dejectedly returned to his own home, having concluded that most Morrisburg residents had become victims of SDC. He was not sure why he was spared so far, but he assumed he would die soon.

Rather than face immediate reality, he went into his father’s liquor cabinet and fixed himself a strong rum and Coke. He quickly followed it with a second and then a third. Feeling no pain and with the room going around and around, he fell onto the couch in the living room to take a nap. In what little was left of his consciousness, he did not expect to wake up again.

Michael awoke briefly with a headache in the early evening but was still in shock and not ready to face the consequences of his new situation. After three more strong rum and cokes, he had finished the almost full bottle of rum. He went back to the couch and fell asleep again.

When he woke up next morning, he had a bad hangover. It was even worse than after his occasional Saturday-night party binges. Through the somewhat-familiar pain, however, he recognized he probably was not going to die like everyone else in Morrisburg. He was not at all sure this was a good thing.