entire family had been sentenced to death by the microscopic terrorist known as influenza—all save Derek, her brother, an Army Ranger fresh out of boot.
She had been sailing through her first year in medical school when she was struck down with so many, many others in The Pandemic. After her long, painful recovery from the point of death, she had chosen to finish medical school in the Army Reserves while she gained real-world experience and helped her country at the same time. She liked to think her father, an Army Colonel, would have been proud.
Brenda was processed, commissioned as a Lieutenant, and sent to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio to complete her expedited training. It was there she had learned that the intense pain caused by The Pandemic was actually a response of her own body to the viral assault on her immune system. Her body had been creating such a massive amount of ammunition to use against the virus that her bones—the body’s gunpowder mills—went into a production frenzy of T-cells. Just breathing had caused her to cry out in agony.
The fever she had survived relatively easy—but the delirious terror she had experienced as a result of the H5N1 virus coursing through her veins— that had been the absolute worst. She had seen demons in her room, salivating with anticipation at feasting on her corpse. They had been as real as Derek’s concerned face leaning over her from time to time. Ten years later, when she had nightmares, it was those viral demons that caused her to wake up screaming in the middle of the night.
Around the time she had enlisted, the Great Recovery had kicked-off—along with the small-scale wars which had flared up around the globe. Surviving leaders had blamed each other for starting hostilities as they jockeyed to take advantage of their potential rivals’ weaknesses. Chaos had erupted around the world, even as most countries were struggling for survival against The Pandemic. The Press aptly dubbed the anarchy The Aftermath. She grunted; the name fit.
By the time she pulled herself out of her waking nightmare, she realized that the DJ was back on the air, wrapping up his feelings about the flu and starting in on the next song. She saw her exit approaching and smoothly exited the freeway, heading down toward street level and her new job. Slowly her pulse began to return to normal.
The DJ cut in as the song ended, “ And by the way, Angelenos, in case you haven’t heard, our fearless leader, President Denton, is coming to our fair state this afternoon to kick off a round of campaign rallies. ” He let the music play a few more beats before interrupting again, “ If anyone needs to go to San Diego today, take my advice… don’t! ” Brenda tuned out the political garbage and switched the radio off as she descended down the freeway ramp and tried to get her bearings.
At last she found the hospital after navigating a warren of side streets and one-way alleys, and pulled into the visitor’s lot at All Saint’s Memorial Hospital. She added getting a lot pass to her mental list of first day chores. One deep breath and she was out of her old Mustang and into the pleasantly warm air she came to California to find. She closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the kiss of the sun on her cheek before heading toward the walk-in entrance to the Emergency Department.
Remember, you’re in the Reserves now—you’re a civilian. Oh God, don’t let me salute my new boss… Sure are a lot of people out here today…
Brenda caught her reflection in the mirrored outer doors to the ED waiting area and quickly flipped an errand lock of auburn hair off her forehead. With a whoosh, the rotating doors cycled around and immersed her in the refreshingly cool air from inside the building. Brenda took a last, calming breath and with a smile to the guard, walked into chaos.
Her first sight was shocking. There were people
She had been sailing through her first year in medical school when she was struck down with so many, many others in The Pandemic. After her long, painful recovery from the point of death, she had chosen to finish medical school in the Army Reserves while she gained real-world experience and helped her country at the same time. She liked to think her father, an Army Colonel, would have been proud.
Brenda was processed, commissioned as a Lieutenant, and sent to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio to complete her expedited training. It was there she had learned that the intense pain caused by The Pandemic was actually a response of her own body to the viral assault on her immune system. Her body had been creating such a massive amount of ammunition to use against the virus that her bones—the body’s gunpowder mills—went into a production frenzy of T-cells. Just breathing had caused her to cry out in agony.
The fever she had survived relatively easy—but the delirious terror she had experienced as a result of the H5N1 virus coursing through her veins— that had been the absolute worst. She had seen demons in her room, salivating with anticipation at feasting on her corpse. They had been as real as Derek’s concerned face leaning over her from time to time. Ten years later, when she had nightmares, it was those viral demons that caused her to wake up screaming in the middle of the night.
Around the time she had enlisted, the Great Recovery had kicked-off—along with the small-scale wars which had flared up around the globe. Surviving leaders had blamed each other for starting hostilities as they jockeyed to take advantage of their potential rivals’ weaknesses. Chaos had erupted around the world, even as most countries were struggling for survival against The Pandemic. The Press aptly dubbed the anarchy The Aftermath. She grunted; the name fit.
By the time she pulled herself out of her waking nightmare, she realized that the DJ was back on the air, wrapping up his feelings about the flu and starting in on the next song. She saw her exit approaching and smoothly exited the freeway, heading down toward street level and her new job. Slowly her pulse began to return to normal.
The DJ cut in as the song ended, “ And by the way, Angelenos, in case you haven’t heard, our fearless leader, President Denton, is coming to our fair state this afternoon to kick off a round of campaign rallies. ” He let the music play a few more beats before interrupting again, “ If anyone needs to go to San Diego today, take my advice… don’t! ” Brenda tuned out the political garbage and switched the radio off as she descended down the freeway ramp and tried to get her bearings.
At last she found the hospital after navigating a warren of side streets and one-way alleys, and pulled into the visitor’s lot at All Saint’s Memorial Hospital. She added getting a lot pass to her mental list of first day chores. One deep breath and she was out of her old Mustang and into the pleasantly warm air she came to California to find. She closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the kiss of the sun on her cheek before heading toward the walk-in entrance to the Emergency Department.
Remember, you’re in the Reserves now—you’re a civilian. Oh God, don’t let me salute my new boss… Sure are a lot of people out here today…
Brenda caught her reflection in the mirrored outer doors to the ED waiting area and quickly flipped an errand lock of auburn hair off her forehead. With a whoosh, the rotating doors cycled around and immersed her in the refreshingly cool air from inside the building. Brenda took a last, calming breath and with a smile to the guard, walked into chaos.
Her first sight was shocking. There were people
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