Jason's Virus

By David Lawrence Morris

After a tornado, Jason is trapped with his son for two years in the cellar of their new home. Once rescued they discover that a horrible virus has decimated the planet leaving in it's wake only children and women. Every grown man at or beyond puberty died within weeks of the outbreak.
Jason, who previously worked at the Center for Disease Control makes it his mission to find the cure knowing that both he and his son lacked the immunity the young boys acquired during the outbreak.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Lawrence Morris
• Release date: Jan 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463206195

David Lawrence Morris

I grew up in Phoenix, graduating from ASU in 1976. Now retired in Palm Springs I have enjoyed writing fiction and editing more than I ever dreamed I would. My books to date are: The Trilogy; Spots: The Youth Tablets Spots, The People at the Pond-Second Chance Spots, The Finale-The Lost Tablets. This trilogy is about an accidental side effect of an experimental medication...It returns the people in the trial to their youth. The Time Ship is an unusual take on a time travel adventure. Jason's Virus is a novel about a virus that quickly kills all but a few adult men and the civilization that results.

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Jason’s Virus

By

David Lawrence Morris

© 2018

All Rights Are Reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between the characters in this work and any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The right of David Lawrence Morris to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998.

No part of this publication may be stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronically, mechanically, by recording, or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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CHAPTER 1

The Fourth of July

The Fourth of July was always a special day for us. My son Colin and I always did something together on the fourth. It was a time for bonding. On that day I got to be more like a friend, and less like a father.

In the past, we traveled out of Georgia, visiting friends who lived in states where fireworks were still legal. This year was going to be different. We were in the middle of moving into our new house, and I just couldn’t take the time away.

We stocked up on legal fireworks, and I knew Colin was anxiously awaiting the sunset. I hoped the collection of sparklers, flaming black worms, and the few things I could actually buy here in Atlanta would be enough. There was going to be a big fireworks show nearby, but Colin said he didn’t think it would be the same as being able to light the fuse himself. I understood just what he meant. The charge you get from watching a burning fuse take off can’t be replaced by watching someone else do it.

When I got a call from work, I was more than a little irritated, but did what I could to mimic being cheerful about it.

* * *

Choosing a career in molecular biology had allowed me to be near Anita, my wife and Colin’s mother. When we met, we were both still in school. She had long brown hair and light brown eyes. She was just a tiny thing, but when she looked up at me with those eyes of hers, it was all I could do to think straight. She’d look at me like I was her knight in shining armor. I chose to attend the same university where she was studying pre-med just to be near her. I couldn’t bear the idea of being away from her.

When I had to choose a major, molecular biology was the only thing open that sounded interesting. Most of the other classes were filled, but to my surprise, I had an aptitude for it.

It was during her internship when she told me we were going to have a baby. We both knew it’d be a struggle.

Knowing our passion together was creating a new being who was half of each of us made me the happiest man alive.

The day I held my baby boy in my arms, I think I grew up. I can’t explain it, but it was one of those times that divide your life. There’s the time before I was a father, and the time after. I loved that warm tiny bundle in my arms in a way I did not yet understand.

Before I took Colin home, I made everybody wait at the hospital while I bought the safest car seat I could find. To assure that he was safe, I installed it myself, triple checking everything to make sure he'd be safe. After all of that trouble, the hospital told us they couldn’t release him until the following morning.

Anita and I were on our way home from the hospital, when a car came out of nowhere. Two teenage girls were traveling toward a red light looking at their cell phones. I was making a left turn, and we didn’t see them coming. They slammed into my wife’s side of the car, killing her instantly. The two girls died later at the hospital. The EMTs took me to the hospital. Colin and I were released the next morning. Being on the left side of the car, I suffered only a few bruises.

By the time the services were over, it was obvious to me that for the time being, I couldn’t do this alone, at least not right away. As we left the funeral, my mom insisted Colin and I move back home and live with them until I was in a position to care for us both by myself. At the same time, I think she realized I needed someone to care for Colin to give me time to grieve. Dad went along with anything Mom suggested. It was a lifelong pattern he’d developed to keep peace in the household. That was twelve years before the tornado.

That’s how Colin and I ended up living with my folks. She cared for Colin while I finished my education and during my early career at the Center for Disease Control.

After a few years working my way up in the CDC, I was managing my own research department. Colin and I still lived with my mother. I’d been planning to move out on our own for quite some time, but when my dad passed away we stuck around for Mom. She did not need to lose Dad and us at the same time.

You do what you have to for family. At the time, it worked for us. I did the things around the house my dad used to do, and while I was at work Mom took care of Colin. I remember thinking my life was being shaped by the deaths of the people I loved.

A couple years after Dad died, I began to feel like we should get out on our own. Mom was getting along okay and she’d been talking about selling the house someday and moving into a retirement community where some of her friends lived.

She was giving me hints. I remember one in particular. She said, You know, I think Colin needs a home where his Grandma isn't in charge. I whole- heartedly agreed. My mother was not the type of woman who planned her old age with her kids. She did not intend to make our arrangement permanent.

So, I started to plan out our new life together. After long discussions with my mother, I decided to build rather than buy. Mom and Dad’s farm was enormous and most of it was wasted space. Mom gave us a plot of land for the house, so I started having the plans drawn up.

The one thing I insisted on was a large underground tornado shelter. For Atlanta it may have been overkill, but I wasn’t about to lose my family to a freak wind or hurricane.

In the evenings, Mom and I would review the plans. She told me about the fallout shelters she'd seen in the early sixties. I remember when we'd all head out to the mall and tour the underground fallout shelters just for entertainment. Malls were kind of new back then. In the parking lot they had built models of several fallout shelters. The sample shelters were installed right in the parking lots.

I thought a lot about what she told me. On the news at night, the Russians and North Koreans had been so aggressive lately it made me think. So many Middle Eastern countries were hungry for nuclear arms. It made sense to me to make sure that our tornado shelter would protect us from anything.

Colin’s mother was originally from Utah. She’d always insisted that we keep a two year supply of food in the event there was ever a terrible famine. For a woman who married a man with a nasty habit of going overboard on any project, she brought up that imaginary famine uncommonly often.

I interviewed half dozen contractors. When I told them about the shelter, they usually just gave me the too-expensive-to-consider bid just to get rid of me.

I wanted my home to have a thick foundation that would go deep enough to serve as walls for the shelter below. That meant digging a big hole to start with and pouring a huge foundation. The floor of the shelter would descend at least fifteen feet below ground level.

Those contractors looked at me like I was out of my mind. Eventually I found Eric Moore, a young builder who was hungry enough, to get excited about doing something really different.

Because I wanted a tornado shelter that could serve as a fallout shelter, I required at least three feet of soil between the roof of the shelter and the floor of the house.

The site for the house was perfect. Our lot was located on a small hill, which kept me from worrying about the water table flooding of our shelter.

We finally agreed on a plan utilizing arches from one support column to another to give us the strength we needed. The idea came from ancient catacombs that were built to last forever. The combination of the soil and the arched roof underground provided all the protection we’d ever need.

You know if you ever sell this place, someone could put a beautiful wine cellar down here. I had to agree with Eric. It would have been a perfect place.

I think he gave me a low bid because he wanted the challenge of designing the shelter. I'll never be asked to build another one of these. He said. But I'll be ready if anyone ever does. I just can’t pass it up.

By the time it was built and stocked, we’d have a shelter that could easily house Colin and me for a long time, if we ever needed it. Eric designed a number of innovations, things they didn’t have back in the sixties. It was outfitted with solar lights. The panels were outside at ground level to protect them from heavy winds. Maintenance would be easy. Banks of rechargeable batteries would provide power at night. In the event of a failure, I stocked the shelter with drawers full of candles. The shelter's walls were outfitted with mirrored candle holders to make the most of the candle light.

A gym was installed in one of the rooms in the shelter. We wanted it in the house, but I knew from experience that they can be something you use for a while and then stop using altogether. I thought it best to keep it out of the way.

After that I lined the shelves that covered many of the walls with provisions. I promised myself I’d pull groceries from downstairs and replace them with new to keep everything from expiring.

I knew it was obsessive, so much so that Colin informed me one day that I had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. In a way, I understood his complaint. When I have something on my mind, I can go into overdrive. When that happens I can’t hear people talking or telephones ringing. Colin is sure it’s ‘a thing.’ He even told me to see a shrink to find out what it was.

I figured that if it was anything, It was the opposite of Attention Deficit, maybe something like hyper-attention if there is such a thing. I’m the kind of guy who starts a project and something happens to me. It becomes my entire life until I know it’s perfect.

When the shelter was completed, I was so excited I felt like giving a party, but I still had a house to build. If I’d known what was going to happen, not only to my house but to the whole world, I’d have stopped with the shelter. Then again stopping might have sealed our fate.

CHAPTER 2

The Tornado

A year had passed since we broke ground on our new home. We couldn't begin work on the upper structure until the shelter was completed. It was still a few days before the planned move, and Colin and I were looking forward to it.

We were still living at my mom’s house. She made out like she was going to be glad to be rid of us, but I could see the same look in her eyes she had when I married Colin’s mother. That morning, as I got out of bed, I called out to Colin who was on his way downstairs, A truckload of furniture is scheduled to arrive at eleven.

Colin headed downstairs to see what his Grandma was preparing for breakfast, as I slipped on my jeans from the night before. I didn’t feel right that morning. I threw on a t-shirt and stood in front of the mirror. A quick check confirmed that I seemed healthy, but something felt different. Maybe it's just knowing we'll be sleeping somewhere else tonight, I thought.

The house was really quiet. The clock on the dresser said it was seven. Usually by now Mom was singing to the radio in the kitchen, working on something wonderful for breakfast.

There was no noise coming from anywhere; no singing, no toaster popping, no radio music.

Dad! Colin’s panicky voice was louder than normal and coming from downstairs. It wasn’t like Colin to yell in the house. His grandmother raised him to use his ‘indoor voice’ his entire life.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw him standing in the doorway to Mom’s room with his mouth open and a look on his face I’ll never forget.

He took me by the hand and pulled me into her room. She was still in bed. He looked up to me with tears in his eyes, She’s cold, he said. A single touch confirmed that she’d been dead for hours.

I couldn’t say it out loud. While I worried about what I’d say to Colin, I called 911. I was going to have to say she was dead, and I only wanted to say it once.

When I hung up the phone, I turned to Colin who was speechless. His horrified expression morphed into sobs. Grandma was getting old, I told him. She passed away in her sleep, just the way she would have wanted.

He buried his face in my chest, wrapped his arms around me and sobbed. His grandma was just as much a mother to him as she was to me. You cry all you need to, I said. It wasn’t long before I joined him.

When the men arrived, I guided them into her room. They carefully put her on a stretcher, carried her through the house, and out to the van. She’ll be taken to the coroner’s office, the man said as he handed me a card with the coroner’s information on it.

After they left with mom’s body, we finished getting dressed. Colin, I'm afraid we have some work to do.

Once again he looked horrified. How can you even think of that furniture deliv…

No. I don’t mean that. I'll cancel the delivery. I'd never do something like that. You and I need to go to the funeral home and tell them where she'll be, so they can pick her up and get her ready for her funeral. Then, we have to contact all the relatives and tell them.

Oh. He said.

I didn't blame him for not wanting to talk.

We finished dressing and left for the funeral home, the same one we used when my dad died. We found out that Mom's had planned the whole thing out. I was grateful that we didn’t have to make choices. We advised them where they could pick her up and went home.

She was buried next to Dad the following weekend. The ‘Atlanta Daily World’ published a nice obituary with the date and time of the funeral. There must have been two hundred people in the church. Out of that, I think Colin and I were the only relatives. Most of our family was missing. They were either too far away or too poor to travel.

Out of the entire group, I noticed one man who cried quietly during the entire ceremony. I wondered how a person I’d never met could care so much. He left before I had a chance to meet him.

A few days later, I met with Mom’s attorney, a Mr. Walter Rutherford. He’d been my family’s attorney for years, and was easily her age. He’d retired years ago, but as a favor continued to handle her affairs.

He told me the estate had been left to me except for half of the proceeds of the house. Her instructions were explicit. The land was to be split in half and title to the land on which my house was to stand would be mine. The property with her house on it was to be sold. I’d receive half of the proceeds. The other half would go to a Mr. Richard Franklin. The only stipulation was that both of us had to survive thirty days beyond the reading of the will, which is standard.

Mr. Rutherford handed me an envelope with my name on it. Read it, He said. It'll explain everything. She wrote it when she adjusted her will the last time.

The envelope was hand addressed. Opening it, I pulled out a letter, and began to read.

Dear Jason,

I gave this letter to Mr. Franklin to give to you if anything happened to me before you