Page 140 of Viral Justice

Coban looked over his shoulder at the tent Max had left, a huge frown on his face. “Is she going to die?”

“I’m doing everything I can to prevent that,” Max told him. “Where is your brother?”

“The soldiers gave us food and he fell asleep.” Coban looked up at Max. Calm, much too calm. “Father is dead. One of the bad men shot him. What will happen to us now?”

Max met Coban’s gaze. “A doctor is going to make sure you’re not sick. You will have to leave this place, but we will make sure you are safe. Do you have family in another village or town?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dr. Samuels walking back into the tent with more IV antibiotic bags. When had she left? Max shook his head. He needed to sleep too.

“I don’t know,” Coban said, his chin quivering.

Max wanted to pull the boy into a hug, but the biohazard suit made that impossible. “You and Berez are going to be safe, I promise.” He stood and gestured for the boy to follow him. “Let’s get you back to your brother so you can sleep too.”

The village looked very different than it had only an hour ago. The first air drop had happened only an hour after Max made the desperate call for antibiotics. He’d spent that hour guarding Ali, directing people to rescue Nolan from deep inside the old hospital, and triaging the sick who’d ventured out of their homes after the gunfire stopped.

He estimated that 90 percent of the occupants of the village had become infected with the flu. A dangerously high rate. Any virus that could infect that many people in only a few days was alarmingly infectious. Any virus this contagious, with a death rate of thirty to forty percent, could only be described as an infectious nuclear bomb.

As a result, he’d ordered the entire village and the region around it quarantined.

Four hours after his call for help, medical and security personnel began arriving. The fires were put out and a house-to-house search for survivors was undertaken. Anyone with symptoms was separated from those who appeared healthy and taken to a hastily erected tent where a combat support hospital had been set up.

Healthy survivors were taken to another tent with hot food, clean water, cots, and heaters, so they could eat and sleep.

Blood samples had been taken from everyone, including Max, Ali, and the surviving members of their team. Only Max and Ali had tested negative for the flu.

Dr. Grace Samuels and Dr. Sophia Perry arrived with the medical team. Grace was overseeing the assessment and treatment of the disease, while Sophia took over the investigative side of the mission, confirming Max’s determination of the virus and restarting the production of onsite vaccine. It wouldn’t help Ali, but it had to be done.

As Sophia put it, why fuck with a method that’s working?

His biggest concern now was Ali and her worsening condition. They’d gotten antibiotics running into her within an hour and a half of exposure. She shouldn’t be getting worse.

He and Coban reached the tent where the relatively healthy citizens of the village were being cared for. He got the boy into a cot next to his brother and tucked him in. He should tell Ali that the boys were safe. She’d want to know.

Before he left the tent, he let himself watch the staff and villagers interact, ensuring all that needed to be done was being done.

Max nodded to the staff and returned to Ali’s tent. She wasn’t alone.

Sitting next to her was someone in a biohazard suit. Max recognized the man by his posture.

General Stone.

Max stood in the doorway of the tent, his stomach dropping into the very bottom of his steel-toed combat boots.

“Come in, Max.” The general’s voice sounded tired.

“Sir.” Max hesitated, then moved to stand on the other side of the cot. “I... There’s no excuse for...”

“Max,” General Stone said, “I know. It’s not your fault.”

“Sir, with respect, bullshit.”

General Stone smiled. “I see she’s been a positive influence on your attitude.”

“As the ranking officer, the responsibility for this clusterfuck is mine.”

“Max, you came into this situation with a team of four. We sent in another dozen to help. Do you know how many militants were here?”

“Uh, no, sir.”

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