The Anthrax Mutation (v1.0), page 9
Morris shook his head. The total devastation of human life was to him incomprehensible. A bomb, an entire city burnt to the ground, an earthquake, these were explainable. They just happened. They were acceptable as part of life. But this. A village whose architecture was untouched, but whose inhabitants would simply lay about the streets until they decayed, returned to dust. These boys who lay at his feet, unmarked, but pale and cold. What earthly explanation could there be for this? As a copper, he knew he had seen many atrocities, but nothing of this magnitude had ever come his way. He couldn’t think of any human being alive who would even contemplate such disorder. The Inspector—for all his years as a policeman—was succumbing to shock. His mind, like an overloaded powerpoint, was fusing.
“Inspector, down here,” Thomas called, pulling him from his confusion.
“A phone box—so what?” he asked dully.
“That’s McRoberts—the guy at the base.”
“But how—”
“I don’t know, but let’s have a look,” he replied, already running down the cul-de-sac. “It’s McRoberts, all right,” he announced when the Inspector had caught up. “And there’s McTavish under him.”
“He’s got it as well.”
“Yea, he sure has. Listen, we better get some antidote for this stuff. If it’s as contagious as Dwarf Hill makes it out to be, we could be catching it now. And if Chad-well’s soldiers come traipsing around here, they won’t last long either.”
“Where do we get the vaccine?”
“Penicillin, aureomycin, streptomycin—any of those will do. Dr. Phipps should have some.”
Morris was tottering uneasily. “One of them must have been calling for help.”
Thomas looked back. “Pity he didn’t make it—he might have saved a lot more of them.”
“Might have,” Morris whispered, falling against the side of the call box.
“You feeling all right?”
“It’s all this, Major. It’s beyond me.” He pushed up. “Come on. I need a drink.”
Chadwell was waiting for them when the jeep drew up sharply outside the police station. He looked worried, something that Thomas had not yet seen him capable of —he was pacing across the steps and wringing his hands. As Thomas emerged from the jeep, Chadwell pulled him near by the collar and whispered, “Trouble. I fear the worst has happened.”
The Major brushed his hand away. “I thought there might be.”
“I’ve heard from London that there’s another case of this anthrax. In Beckington—about a hundred and fifty miles from here. Some boy in a church choir. I’m leaving in about an hour. I think you should come.”
“What’s the trouble, then?” asked the Inspector, stepping around the side of the rover.
“More of that anthrax,” Thomas replied. “I figured there might be.” He turned back to Chadwell. “What’s going to happen to this place?”
“It’s been taken out of my hands. The Ministry’s sending down their experts on all this and they’re moving in troops to evacuate.”
“Well, I better come. There won’t be anything for me to do here. What will you do, Inspector?”
He shrugged. “It’s still my town—what’s left of it.” He glanced around him. “Looks like the Army’s moved everyone out except us.” -
“I’m taking Trevor with me,” said Thomas, waiting for Chadwell’s reaction.
“I think it’s best,” Morris added. “We can’t hold him in there much longer. It’s cruel.”
“Hold who? What’s cruel?” he snapped, totally unprepared for this new problem.
“The boy. He’s going with me.”
“Do you really think that’s wise? I don’t think the Ministry would want him involved anymore than he already is.”
“That boy goes with me. Damn your Ministry. Right now he’s a frightened and lonely kid and I’m not leaving him here.”
The last thing Chadwell was bothered about was this child. It was an additional burden. He had too many already. “I wasn’t intending to leave the boy here, Major. I’ve made arrangements for him to be transferred to Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital this afternoon. He’s being sent for examination first—at Porton. When they’re through with him, they’ll see he’s well cared for in London.”
“You’re a bastard, Chadwell,” Thomas leered. “Do you know what they’ll do to him at Porton? Do you know why they want him there?”
Chadwell flapped the lid of his tobacco pouch nervously. He had rarely been challenged like this before.
“Do you know?”
“No, not exactly.”
“Well, I’ll goddam tell you what they’ll do. They’ll use him as a guinea pig. They’ll stick needles in him and take out flesh and blood and bone marrow. And when they’re through, then they’ll send what’s left for Ormond Street to deal with. Are you so goddam cold that you’d let that happen to an innocent boy?”
“Major, I hardly think—”
“That’s just it. You hardly think. You haven’t thought one damned minute since you came down here. No, there was no chance Dwarf Hill could have exploded. No, there was no chance that nerve gas could have wiped out a few hundred people, and no, there was still less chance that those bats could have escaped. What did you say? Ah, yes. You said that the people would think of it as rubbish. Do you still think so after having seen Stumford? You goddam fool, Chadwell. You’ve mucked about here and done nothing but hinder us. You refused to believe any of us. But by God, Chadwell, if you think for one goddam minute I’m letting you send that boy into certain torture and Christ knows what kind of death, then you’re very much mistaken. That boy is coming with me. He’s not leaving my side. And if you or your bloody Ministers try to take him, I’ll blow this whole affair so wide open, you won’t know your ass from first base. Tell your superiors that, Mr. Chadwell. And tell them to get lost.”
Chadwell waffled incoherently. He had been wounded. Thomas grabbed his chance. Fighting his fury he said, “Besides all this, you must see that the kid is a security risk. It’d be much safer for you and your government if I kept an eye on him.” He nodded in the direction of the swarm of newspapermen and television crews. “They look pretty bloodthirsty to me.”
“Well, I suppose you may be right. Can’t say I like the idea, but you have left me little choice, haven’t you.”
“I meant it that way.”
“If that’s settled, I’ll ring London and tell them we’ll be leaving soon. I’ll, ah, I’ll cancel the arrangements for the boy.”
“You do that,” Thomas replied coldly.
“Which car will you be using?” asked the Inspector. “I’ll use mine,” Chadwell said uneasily almost expecting another tirade from the Major. “London’s arranged to have an escort meet us halfway and they’ll be looking out for my reg…”
“I could have one of my men drive you if you like.” Chadwell thought. “No. I think we’ll manage.” He glanced quickly at the Major, then climbed the steps and vanished into the station.
“I say,” began the Inspector. “You gave him a proper bollicking. You’re lucky he let you win.”
“Let me win?” Thomas cried in astonishment. “Why I’ll wring his—”
“Major, remember that you’re in England. He is a representative of the English government. As pompous and pigheaded as he is, it’s his orders that count. I’m on you side all the way, but mind how you go with him.” Thomas relaxed. “Yea, well, it’s better I got it out. I probably would have killed him otherwise. Sending that kid to Porton—some nerve he’s got.”
“He didn’t know, Glen. He doesn’t know about any of this. He’s just a civil servant. He’s doing his job.”
“Yes, I guess so. We got ’em, too.”
“I guess this is it then. You’ll probably be too busy to let me know how things go, but if you get a chance give me a ring or something.”
“I’ll keep you posted, don’t worry,” he grinned. “This isn’t war, you know. I’ll be back when it’s blown over.” “It’ll be bloody war in London I can tell you. If this anthrax scare is really true, this country’s in for the biggest shaking since Hitler.”
“I’m afraid it is true. I can’t think of it not breaking out if those bats are loose. Some poor devil is gonna walk right over one—most likely what this kid’s done in Buckingham or Beckingham or whatever.”
The Duty Sergeant hastened down the steps and approached them. “Message for you, Sir. From London.”
“Thank you,” Thomas replied.
“And Sergeant, can you bring the boy around?” asked the Inspector. “And see if you can’t find an extra change of clothes for him and the Major. God knows where you’ll find it, but have a look.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I shouldn’t worry about the clothes, Sergeant,” said Thomas as he read the message. “We can pick some up on the way—or in London.” He frowned.
“Bad news?” asked Morris.
He handed him the message. The Sergeant disappeared. ‘“Case of suspected anthrax bacillus infection in Beckington confirmed at 15:15 Hours. Am sending Special Branch Murray to rendezvous Beckington. Have instructed Whitehall wait your report. Signed, Sir Joseph Willetts.” Doesn’t sound good, does it?’
“At least they’re going direct to me. Maybe we’ll cut throught this goddam red-tape after all. But I don’t like the sound of this anthrax.”
“Could it be an isolated case?”
“Christ, don’t you start! Chadwell’s probably assuring London that it’s the only possible case and that everything’s gonna turn out fine.”
“He’s had a rough shock, you know. I’d try to see this thing his way for a while if I were you. Maybe give him another chance—and you want to protect Trevor as well.” “Your judge of character again, huh?”
“My judge of character. I may be wrong, but, with things as they are, you can’t lose anything.”
The Sergeant was leading Trevor from the station. He seemed to squint in the bright sun, but he managed a smile when he saw the Major. He raised his hand as if to wave and limped stiffly over.
“Not much color in you yet, kid”’ Thomas announced.
“They’re all like that around here,” explained Morris. “All television and not enough fresh air.”
“Are we going somewhere?” Trevor asked, rubbing his* right hand which had begun to tremble again.
“Yes, my boy,” Thomas began, ruffling his hair. “We are going away. But first we all have to get a jab from Dr. Phipps if he’s around.”
The Inspector looked up.
“Can you ask Phipps for a few shots of aureomycin? One for Chadwell, you, me and Trevor—just in case. It’s not that we’re infected for sure, but there’s no telling with this hybrid stuff.”
“I’ll see if I can find him.” Morris walked off in the direction of Dr. Phipp’s surgery.
’That isn’t an injection, is it?” Trevor asked.
“That, Trevor, is an injection.” He glanced at the door to the Inspector’s office. It was still tightly shut. “Why don’t we sit here. Better than waiting in the car.”
Thomas eased himself onto the cold stone steps and watched Trevor try to guide himself down with the railing. His body must be badly affected, he thought. It must have taken him a hell of a lot of concentration to force his muscles to obey. Trevor picked up a pebble and twiddled it idly in his left hand.
“Major, how it is I didn’t die?”
He hesitated, but he thought it best to tell the truth. It was a straight forward question. “You mean from the gas?”
He nodded.
“Probably because you caught the tail end of it. The spread must have been stopped by the hill. If you had gone any further, well, that would have been it.”
“Have you been into Stumford?”
Again he hesitated. “Yes, this afternoon.”
“Was everyone dead?”
“I’m afraid so, Trevor. But they never felt a thing, I promise you.” He lied. He hated himself for it.
“Did they feel like I did?”
He thought quickly. “No, most likely not. You caught just enough to make you very sick. The dose they got would have killed them instantly.”
“They didn’t suffer?”
Major Thomas stopped him’. He put his hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Trevor, whoever was in that village last night died quickly and painlessly. The gas is very deadly. They didn’t suffer.”
The boy stared back at him for a moment, then stood up and looked away. “What will happen now?”
“We’re going to Beckington. There’s something there I’ve got to investigate. Then we’re going to London.” “Won’t Mr. Chadwell mind? I heard him talking earlier on. He said he didn’t want me along. He said they were going to send me to some hospital.”
Thomas cursed Chadwell. “You’re going with me, Trevor. Nobody is going to send you away. I am going to take care of you until you decide what you want to do. Believe me?” He arose and put his hand on his shoulder.
Trevor shrugged off the hand and started walking. Thomas began to follow him, but stopped. He watched him shuffle slowly on and decided to let him go. It would be his last time near home, and perhaps he knew it.
The Major was sitting on the steps when Chadwell appeared half an hour later. Under his arm was an overstuffed folder of papers and maps, and he carried his bowler and umbrella in the other hand. He looked hot and tired when he sat down next to him.
‘Still waiting for the boy?” he asked quietly.
“No, he’s up there,” replied the Major, pointing to a small figure at the other end of town. “He’s not very well.”
“Humph, I can’t say that I blame him, poor devil. It was pretty awful down there, wasn’t it?”
Thomas took out his cigarettes and offered him one. He declined and fumbled for his pipe.
“They seemed so strange—I mean lying there without any marks or anything.”
“That’s the beauty of gas poisoning—it leave everything intact. No mess to clean up except the bodies.”
“Really, what a horrible way to fight a war.”
“Seeing the light, are we?”
“I never thought—”
“You never do until you see it. Anyway, we’ll have more than enough to do in London.”
Chadwell hesitated. He filled his pipe and lit it in great puffs of smoke. “Major?”
“Huh?”
“I’m, well, I’m sorry I’ve been such a bloody fool. It has been so much of a, of a shock. All this. I, well, I never meant to hurt the boy.”
“There are some things that are important to different people. You just never opened yourself up enough to see how much Trevor has suffered—and will suffer.”
“You mean his treatment?”
“Yes, his treatment.”
“Morris told me about it. I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“He’s a brave lad. He’s obviously come through a lot already.”
“He’s got a long way to go, Mr. Chadwell.”
“But he’s got a good friend to go with him.”
Thomas turned and peered into the deep greyish eyes of Mr. Chadwell. He was never very good at carrying a grudge. He smiled. “Well, I better get Trevor if we’re going.” He stood up and stretched.
“Major?”
“Yeah?”
“Nothing. Forget it. Only I’m glad you’re on our side.”
Thomas began walking off. Chadwell looked after him and slowly shook his head. He watched the erect frame of the Major’s body carry him deliberately along the deserted road until he reached the boy when he put his long arm around the small shoulders and started to walk his charge further down the street before turning around. For a moment they talked, and before returning, Thomas hoisted Trevor onto his shoulders. Chadwell remembered Dickens. He remembered a lot of things he wanted to forget. But he forced himself to relax and put the past and present out of his mind. Somehow all the trouble seemed far away. The sun and smell of leafy air, the boy and the man growing slowly larger as they approached, the unusual peace in the village—it all seemed too perfect, but it was pleasant while it lasted. Chadwell knew what would happen when they reached London. The Ministry would demand all the first-hand information they could get, and right now only he and the Major could supply that. The Major was right. It was a damned messy business. No wonder he had felt the way he did.
The Inspector sighed heavily as the car pulled away. He would miss Thomas, he thought, as he turned to look upon his empty town.
“Have they gone, Sir?” shouted the Sergeant, running down the steps.
He turned around. “Yes, Parker. They’ve gone. Why?” He held out a slip of paper. “Another message, Sir. For the Major.”
“Have you read it?”
“Yes, Sir. I took it down.”
“And?”
“Another report. Another case of anthrax.”
“Where’s it at?”
“Somewhere outside Cardiff—in the Rhonda.”
He sighed again. “Well, I guess Major Thomas has enough to think about before he gets this one. Thank you, Parker.
“Shall I send it on to Beckington?”
“Yes, do that. They should be there in a couple of hours.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The Inspector took the message, stared at it a moment, then crumpled it up and stuffed it into his pocket. He Started walking back to the station.
“Anything wrong, Sir?”
He stopped and looked at the Sergeant. “Parker, I’m afraid everything’s wrong. I don’t think we’ve seen the end of all this. I don’t even think we’ve seen the beginning.”
Beckington. 17:30 Hours
The sun was considering the western horizon and dim shadows crept across the road as Chadwell’s car drew near Beckington. Ponderous clouds threatened from the North and Thomas mumbled something about rain. It had been a long and uncomfortable journey for each of them, each thinking of the uncertain future and what their roles might be in that uncertainty. Thomas longed to estimate the possible consequences of an outbreak of anthrax, a pandemic, but he forced himself to be optimistic—that only isolated cases would cause a minor flap and in a few days the whole thing would be over and he could return home.
