Free Cough by Jacqueline Druga Page B

dropped to the floor. Stokes wanted to collapse. The sack had been tossed somehow from the SUV and in the course of the vehicles path of destruction, the sack latched on to the rear tire. It was lodged in the rear well. Not only was the sack destroyed, but the vials that were inside were crushed. The caps on the most of the vials were off.
    Stokes felt sickened. Right then and there, holding that destroyed sack, he dropped to the floor back against the wrecked SUV.
    He looked around.
    If the town of Littlefield thought they were hurt by the traffic accident, they were in for a big surprise in a few days. The SUV that hit that Dollar Barn was nothing compared to what would hit their town in seventy-two hours.
     

FIFTEEN – RATTLED
     

Littlefield, AZ
June 26
     
    Did he cry? Stokes felt as if he did. That feeling of an overheated face, swollen with emotions. It was a second, a moment, one that rang through his being, resonating a sense of fear and helplessness. More than anything, his head repeatedly screamed ‘It’s over’.
    Stokes was a strong man, at least he believed he was. An enigma too many, no one really knew him, because Stokes was a closed door.
    He chased viruses his whole life in one way or another. He truly believed for some reason, he was meant to watch them. To protect against them. He wasn’t a doctor or in the medical field, yet fate kept throwing deadly viruses his way.
    When Stokes was nine, his mother died of the measles after contracting them on a trip to the West Coast. An eradicated childhood illness took her life. His father, a nurse who worked with Doctors without Borders, contracted Ebola and died when Stokes was in basic training.
    For the eight years he was in the service, most was served as a guard at Fort Detrick’s Biomedical Facility. He actually knew Charles Kimble, but he never recognized Stokes. Maybe it was because Stokes didn’t wear the high and tight and working undercover, he was thinner and of course older. He had been undercover for a while. Since EC175 went missing. Before that it was the one and only time in his life, he wasn’t anywhere near a virus. His job with the FBI had him doing background checks on those who worked with and entered priority labs at the Centers for Disease Control. Then he was in the Middle East for several years following leads on underground labs. Finally, he transferred to a nice cozy desk job, chasing paper trails on bank fraud. Then he was called in when EC175 went missing. From there he was undercover. Looking more like a reformed meth addict then the highly trained enforcement officer he was.
    He took that assignment as a sign that the powers that be found it to be his calling and duty to deal with viruses and germs. To protect and serve the public in a different way.
    But right there, sitting on the floor of the crushed Dollar Barn at the ass end of an overturned SUV, Stokes knew he had failed.
    Did he make the right decision to let Emir and Charles take the virus to destroy it? To arrive at the facility with only the antidote? Or was it already too late, and Aldus had already done the damage. Whatever the case, Aldus didn’t release the virus in Littlefield ….he did. Maybe not directly, maybe not on purpose, but by letting them drive it, Stokes was just as responsible.
    “Hey,” The deep, husky voice called out.
    Suddenly the sounds buried in the background as he wallowed in fear and pity came forefront. People crying, screaming, others yelling out in warning.
    “Hey.”
    Stokes looked up. A brawny, shadowy figure stood above him. The sun from outside the store blasting behind him.
    “You okay? Hurt?”
    “No, I’m … I’m fine. I just slipped.”
    The huge hand extended down and helped him to stand. When Stokes did, he was closer to seeing the name badge of ‘Wells’ than being eye to eye with the law enforcement officer.
    “Thanks,” said Stokes.
    “You good enough to help out here?” Wells asked. “We can use some