Читать книгу Earth's New Beginning: The Sleeping Death Contagion - John Gleed - Страница 7

Ripon was a small city in the northeast of England, with a population of about thirteen thousand before the disaster of 2015. It was a market town in the center of a large farming community. Margaret West had moved there just a couple of years earlier, after her divorce, to be closer to her parents. They lived in the small village of Dishforth, only five miles away. She had turned thirty a month earlier and had no children. She was a doctor and had joined two other local general practitioners in starting a family-medicine clinic in Ripon eighteen months earlier.

SDC was relatively slow to reach Ripon. The first deaths in England had occurred on Wednesday night in London. These victims had caught SDC after contact with Jim Henderson in New York on Monday.

From London, SDC had spread rapidly to most major population centers in England. By the luck of the draw, SDC did not reach Ripon until the following Monday. Three families fleeing from Leeds had arrived. Like most of the people fleeing from SDC, they had left too late; they were already infected.

Margaret and her colleagues in the clinic were aware of the devastating progress of the contagion from the news on television, radio and newspapers. They were also receiving email bulletins from the Ministry of Health as SDC progressed across the country. Margaret had seen the initial reports on Friday July 17, with some significant professional interest but without too much real concern for herself or her patients in Ripon. The hundreds of unexplained sleep deaths in North America were a long way away, on the other side of the Atlantic. Closer to home, about fifty deaths had been reported in England, all in the London area.

The first Ministry of Health email bulletin had arrived at noon on Friday. It did not include much useful information that had not been on the TV newscast she had seen at lunchtime. It did note the cold like symptoms that many of the victims had experienced before their unexplained sleep deaths, according to their families.

It was Margaret’s turn to be the clinic’s on-call doctor for the weekend. She suspected she might get some emergency calls from patients suffering from cold symptoms. As she left the office on Friday, she mentally prepared her “there is nothing to be concerned about” speech to answer these calls. She could not have known just how wrong her assessment of the situation really was.

The news on Saturday was much more disturbing. The numbers of reported deaths in England and the rest of Europe grew alarmingly as they were discovered and reported during the morning. By noon, the urgent bulletins were appearing on the TV every fifteen minutes and the latest reports put the number of deaths in Europe at more than a thousand. The reports and speculations on the internet were even more disturbing.

Margaret had already taken more than twenty emergency calls from clinic patients. They were becoming harder to satisfy and her “nothing to be concerned about” response became less and less acceptable to them—and to herself.

By Saturday afternoon, Margaret began to have severe doubts. After some discussion on the phone, the three clinic doctors decided to go into the office immediately, review all the information available and decide on an action plan for their patients. They met in the waiting room with the TV tuned to the BBC, which was now running continuous news coverage of the SDC disaster. Reports were starting to come in from North America. Because of the time difference, several thousand Friday-night deaths were just being discovered as their loved ones awoke.

The news at four (eleven in the morning in Washington) was that the president of the United States had declared an unprecedented general state of emergency. He had suspended all travel by air, rail and automobile within the country. The doctors cynically but correctly interpreted this news to mean things were getting totally beyond control in North America. Shortly afterwards, the British prime minister made a live TV broadcast to the nation, announcing similar quarantine measures to take effect immediately in Great Britain.

The Ministry of Health bulletins kept coming in on the fax and email during the afternoon. Apart from updating the estimated victim count, they were not much help to the doctors, who were trying to come up with any usable advice for their own patients in Ripon. In the end, the three doctors decided that rather than continue to try to answer an increasing number of emergency calls without anything new to say, they would simply leave a voice message for all callers. The essence of their message was the same as the government’s “stay calm and stay put” instructions. They did not feel good about their response to anxious patients but did not know what else they could do. They left the office and agreed to get in touch again by phone at noon the next day.

Sunday was a very difficult day for Margaret and her colleagues. The news of the escalating number of deaths was the only thing in the papers and on the television and radio. As Sunday progressed, it became obvious the number of deaths had increased tenfold during the night. The first deaths closer to home had been reported from Leeds, less than thirty miles away.

The few patients who knew her home phone number or email contacted her directly after getting frustrated with listening to the message on the clinic’s emergency number. The connection to the mild cold symptoms had now been publicized in the news and on the internet. Anyone suffering from a runny nose and headache was in a real panic. They were desperate to hear about vaccines or drugs to cure them. Her responses to these calls were not well accepted. Her neighbors and friends, who knew she was a doctor and where she lived, just knocked on her door. She could not give them any peace of mind either.

When she talked on the phone to her clinic partners at noon, she found their experiences had been similar. They met briefly in the office but were unable to come up with any plan of action that was any better than what they were already doing. There were more emails and faxes from the Ministry of Health, but they still did not provide any new information. They did give a special phone number for doctors to access to get help in dealing with SDC. After trying the number for more than half an hour, the doctors finally got through. To their immense frustration, they discovered they could only leave a message on an answering machine. They put the phone down in disgust and despair.

During Saturday and Sunday, Margaret had talked to her parents in Dishforth on the phone several times. Their level of anxiety was increasing with every news report they heard. At the end of a stressful and frustrating Sunday afternoon, Margaret decided there was nothing more she could do for her patients. She would drive over to her parents’ place for dinner and try to calm them down. She got into her car for the short drive, not thinking at all about the ban on all travel that had been announced the previous day.

She encountered the first roadblock at the edge of town. The police officer staffing the barricade was one of her patients, so she had little trouble persuading him to let her past the roadblock; she was a doctor carrying out her medical duties. However, he did warn her that all the major roads had been blocked to enforce the travel ban. Being a local, she was not too concerned. She knew all the back roads and immediately plotted an alternative route to her parents’ house that would bypass all the major roads and the most likely locations for roadblocks.

Half an hour later, she parked in front of her parents’ small bungalow in Dishforth. They were relieved to see her and welcomed her in with even more warmth than usual. She had phoned ahead to let them know she was on her way. By the time she arrived, her mother had dinner ready. As the family ate their dinner together, they discussed the crisis. Her parents were obviously expecting more from their daughter, the doctor, than she was able to provide.

Margaret had no more news than what they had already seen on the TV bulletins. To their great distress, she did not bring a vaccine or any other drugs to prevent or cure the disease that was now spreading rapidly across the country. She patiently explained to them that there were no known medicines to fight SDC. The only protection was to avoid coming into contact with anyone who was already infected.

After dinner, they sat together in the living room, anxiously watching the TV for any news that might give them hope for a cure. They heard only more disturbing news about the spreading contagion and the rapidly increasing number of reported deaths.

The news from Asia and Australia was not encouraging. It was already Monday morning there and the number of reported deaths had increased dramatically, with more than a thousand deaths reported in Sydney and Tokyo.

Her parents were distraught and Margaret was not far behind them. In some ways, her professional experience and knowledge made things much worse for her. She realized SDC could now only be stopped by a miracle.

She dreaded going into the office on Monday morning and facing her patients again with nothing to offer to calm their fears. She decided to stay over with her parents and return to Ripon and her patients early the next morning. After the stressful day, they all decided to go to bed early. Margaret did break down and give both her mother and father a strong sleeping pill from her bag. After lying awake for more than an hour, she took one herself after setting the alarm for six.

She left early the next morning, leaving a note for her parents, who were still asleep. Just before she left the house, she crept into their bedroom to assure herself they had not expired during the night. In her note to them, she promised to come back that evening, after her day at work.

She returned to Ripon by the same back roads route she had taken the previous evening. She avoided any roadblocks until she entered the outskirts of town. This time, she had a much harder time persuading the police officer operating the roadblock to let her through. After a call to his sergeant and to one of her partners to confirm her profession and residence in Ripon, she was finally let through. However, she was warned that a total ban on all automobile use outside city limits would come into effect later that morning. She did not know how she was going to keep her promise to her parents and return to Dishforth that night.

After a quick shower and change at home, she arrived in the office before eight. Both her partners were already in the office, reviewing the latest Ministry of Health bulletins and listening to the latest news on TV.

There was no good news. The number of deaths in Asia and Australia had increased dramatically. The situation in Europe was getting desperate, with nearly fifty thousand SDC deaths already reported. The TV commentators estimated the true numbers would be two or three times that when all the reports were in. In some countries, panic was rampant and civilization was already breaking down.

By nine, the calls from patients were coming in at an unrestrained pace. The doctors were in despair because they were still not able to provide any more helpful advice to their panicking patients. They could only tell them to stay home and to avoid contact with other people to avoid potential contagion contacts.

It seemed that Ripon, like most other European communities, was coming to a standstill, as most people were staying at home and not going to work. There were still no reported deaths in the Ripon area. However, the numbers of deaths reported from the nearest big cities of Leeds, York and Harrogate were mounting rapidly. Everyone anticipated it was just a matter of time before SDC reached Ripon.

Margaret was the first doctor in Ripon to see a case of SDC. She may have suspected, but did not know this for certain, until the next day. When the office opened at ten, one of her favorite patients was first in line. Mrs. McKenzie was nearly eighty and she had been one of Margaret’s first patients when she had arrived in Ripon. Despite suffering badly from acute arthritis, Mrs. McKenzie was always in a cheerful mood.

On Monday morning, she had brought her daughter, Joan, with her. Joan, who lived and worked in Leeds, had just arrived at her mother’s home that morning after traveling on the back roads overnight. Both Joan and her mother were very worried because Joan had begun to experience a runny nose and a mild headache on Sunday. Now they were concerned these were the early symptoms of the deadly contagion now sweeping across Europe and the rest of the world.

Margaret had her own concerns but decided to keep them to herself. She sent them away with the usual common-cold-cure instructions: Stay home, have plenty of rest, drink plenty of liquid and take aspirin as required for the headache.

During the remainder of the office hours, one of her partners had a similar visit from the family of a regular patient who had also arrived from Leeds. The symptoms and the treatment were the same.

At their end-of-day conference, the partners agreed SDC had probably reached Ripon that day. They also agreed there was nothing they could do anyway. It was just a matter of time now. By the end of the day, the Ministry of Health bulletins had stopped coming.

This, together with the fact that TV had stopped reporting the mounting death counts, was enough to confirm that the “end” was coming soon. They jointly decided there was little more they could do. They would not open the office the next day or until further notice. They would devote their quality time remaining to their own families, in their own homes. They would keep in touch with one another frequently by phone.

When Margaret got into her car to return to her parents’ home in Dishforth, she was anticipating major problems getting past the police roadblocks. However, she was able to bypass two unmanned barriers. She decided the police officers must have also decided to change their personal priorities and had gone home to look after their own families. She arrived at her parents’ home without any trouble.

Her mother and father welcomed her warmly. They were relieved to hear she intended to stay with them for the next few days and not return to Ripon. Dishforth was now a community in despair and panic. There had been two SDC deaths overnight: the village police officer and his six-year-old son. No one knew how they caught the infection, but the common theory was that the policeman had been infected while he was manning a roadblock on the nearby highway.

Margaret patiently explained that it was inevitable SDC would reach Dishforth eventually. She also explained there was nothing she or anyone else could do to prevent them from catching and dying from the contagion. There was a long silence. Margaret’s mother started crying softly and soon her father did too. Finally, Margaret succumbed to their emotion of despair and started weeping herself. Margaret’s announcement was not a real shock to them. However, the blow of her confirmation of their fears was hard to take. After a few minutes of weeping and hugging, they recovered their self-control and resolved to stay calm and quietly enjoy what time was left to them together.

Margaret and her mother enjoyed preparing a good dinner with some of their family’s favorite foods. The three of them consumed two bottles of good French wine with their leisurely evening meal. They noticed, but did not comment on, the runny noses they all had developed during the evening. An early night was in order and the effects of the wine ensured they all fell asleep quickly.

On Tuesday morning, Margaret woke up late. It showed after nine on the alarm clock beside her bed when she slowly stirred into consciousness. She quickly remembered the reasons for waking up in her parents’ spare bedroom. It was with some relief she heard her parents talking quietly and normally in the kitchen. They had all survived the night. Their infection was in too early a stage to have had a fatal effect during their night’s sleep.

She immediately called her partners, who confirmed SDC had reached Ripon. There had been six reported deaths so far, including the Monday arrivals from Leeds who had visited their office.

When she went to the kitchen to get some breakfast, her mother calmly told her that according to their neighbor, six people had been found dead in their beds in Dishforth that morning. Margaret felt a little guilty about not offering her medical services, but she knew there was nothing she could do to help.

She spent the day and the evening pleasantly with her parents, reminiscing about the happy times they’d had together. The cold like symptoms were even more apparent for all of them. They knew and openly discussed that this most likely was their last day together, at least on this Earth. They went to bed early again, this time with the help of a sleeping pill from Margaret’s medicine bag.

Despite taking a sleeping pill herself, Margaret woke at four. The house was eerily quiet. She softly called to her mother, who had always been a light sleeper, without getting any response. She crept into her parents’ bedroom. She confirmed they both were unnaturally cold and had probably been dead for several hours. After gently kissing them goodbye, she wearily crept back to her own bed and cried herself to sleep. She fully expected never to wake up again.

Much to her surprise, she did wake up, at about ten the next morning. In her misery over the loss of her mother and father, she realized she was destined to live at least one more day. She felt very much alone.