The Fungal Trance
by William Quincy Belle
|
Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3 |
part 2
“The world has enough scary things, so there’s no need to make them up. We already have them. However, I have no idea what happened to that raccoon. People always talk about radiation, pollution, and stuff getting into the environment and causing mutations in many living things, animals, humans, and even viruses and bacteria. Maybe you’ve discovered something new.”
“Oh, great. My own real, live horror movie.”
“I’m sure, Bob, it’s nothing as dramatic as that. There’s no boogeyman under your bed. I’ll go with the simpler explanation. The raccoon died, and something took root in the corpse. However, for my own curiosity, I’ll contact a friend at Public Health just to see if they’ve seen anything with raccoons.”
“Well, Vincent, thanks for talking with me. I’ll head out to Liam’s place and do some further investigating.”
“Keep me in the loop,” Kirby said and hung up.
Stone leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms as he yawned. Glancing at the clock, he wondered if Liam would have anything new. His curiosity had him thinking there was a mystery to be solved.
Stone made his way to Liam’s farm, driving down the lengthy path that wound through a quaint, sun-drenched pasture. The front of the two-story house was framed by several friendly trees, their leaves dancing in the gentle morning breeze. The idyllic scene painted a cheerful and welcoming ambiance, fitting for a homestead.
Nobody appeared to be around. He strode up the front steps and knocked on the screen door. It was quiet.
He knocked again. “Hello?”
Stone pulled open the screen door and stuck his head in, looking at a foyer with stairs to the left and a comfortable but basic living room on the right. “Hello?” He strained to listen before stepping inside and standing stock-still. “Liam?”
He tiptoed to the kitchen, trying to discern any noises in the house. He walked through to the back, and holding the screen door with one hand, put one foot on the deck. Various farm smells greeted him: pasture grasses, manure, and a hint of blooming flowers. He glanced around the yard and saw the dog on the doghouse. “Hey, Molly!” He looked toward the barn and yelled, “Liam!”
Stone stopped and jerked around to stare at the dog. Molly was on top of the doghouse, and something protruded from her head. He stepped off the deck and shuffled closer. It was the same stalk ending in a flower. The dog’s eyes were lifeless as it stared straight ahead. It seemed to have died, frozen in place.
He walked around the doghouse, looking at the animal from different angles. The flower petals were in full bloom, marked in places with red dust.
He took out his smartphone, snapped a picture, and sent it to Prof. Kirby. I’m at Liam’s farm. This is Molly, his dog.
He sent the text and looked around. “Liam?”
Stone marched toward the barn with a purposeful gait. As he looked toward a fenced-in field, he halted mid-stride. A cow stood at a wooden fence marking the pasture, its head hanging over the top rail with front hooves over the bottom rail. A stalk projected out of its forehead.
He took a sharp intake of breath. “What the hell?” He snapped another picture and sent it to the professor.
“Liam! Liam!”
He burst into the barn.
“Liam!”
He ran down the center aisle, going by empty stalls. Nothing. Somewhere, an animal bleated. He rushed back outside and discovered a pen off a side stall of the barn. A small goat wandered around by itself, bleating. To one side, an adult goat stood facing the barrier. Stone came around and discovered a stalk. He looked at the baby goat and then at its mother. The bulbous end of the stalk had no flower. It remained closed. As he watched, he saw the eyes of the goat move around. Stone jumped in surprise. The animal was still alive!
The goat watched Stone and made gurgling noises. It trembled, letting out a garbled bleat, shifted a hoof and remained still. It made another strange noise.
“Oh, my God!”
Consumed by an overpowering feeling of dread, Stone sprinted to the front of the house. “Liam!”
He got out his cell phone and dialed Liam’s number. A faint buzzing ringtone came from the house. He rushed through the front door and found the smartphone on the kitchen counter. Racing upstairs, he searched all the rooms. Stone feared that Liam was unconscious, lying on the floor somewhere.
Stone stood on the landing, puffing. He contemplated dialing 911 but hesitated, his thumb over the Call Button. The house was silent, while outside, there was movement of tree branches.
He plodded back down the stairs and walked out onto the front porch. Something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure what it was and worried he was overreacting. Could there be a simple explanation? Was Liam doing chores somewhere and had left his house in the kitchen?
He stared across the front yard and furrowed his brow as he noticed a pair of feet dangling from the treehouse.
“Liam?”
Stone stepped toward the tree, looking up at the branches. Wood slates had been nailed together to form a platform among the branches. Somebody was sitting at the edge.
“Liam?”
Stone grabbed hold of the first rung of a crude ladder nailed to the trunk. He hoisted himself through a hole in the platform.
“Liam?”
He stepped toward the back of the seated figure before veering to one side and turning back to look at the face.
Liam was sitting upright, his hands grasping the wooden slat at the edge. A stalk stuck out of the upper part of his forehead, tipped with a bulbous structure.
“Liam?”
Liam’s body trembled. As Stone studied him, Liam’s eyes flicked around, sometimes stopping on Stone. He made a guttural sound.
“Liam? Can you hear me?”
Liam’s lips quivered and parted as he made a noise.
“What? I can’t understand you.”
Liam gave Stone a wide-eyed look of fright. “Help,” he whispered.
Stone pulled out his phone and dialed 911. “This is Doctor Stone. I need an ambulance right away. I also want to report what I think may be a biological hazard.” He spoke with the operator, spelling names, giving the address, and explaining the situation before hanging up.
“Hang in there, Liam. Help is on the way.”
Liam’s body shook, and his breath whooshed out of him. His sightless eyes stared forward.
“Liam?” Stone leaned closer. “Liam?”
The bulb at the top of the stalk burst open, and a cloud of red particles floated out in front of Liam. A puff of air caught the cloud and blew it into Stone’s face. He recoiled, squeezing his eyes shut and spitting. He used both hands to wipe his eyes and then his cheeks.
Stone blinked several times and spit. He wiped his face again and stared at the now open bloom at the end of the stalk. He scratched his hand and raised it in front of his face. Red dots speckled the skin. He looked at Liam, then at his hand, and remembered Liam’s own story of the dots.
“Uh-oh!” Stone madly brushed his face. He spat in one hand and wiped the other, furiously rubbing as he looked at the marks. What else to do? He held the cuff of his shirt and passed it over his forehead and cheeks, then looked at the cloth. He repeatedly brushed the back of his hand against the sleeve of his shirt. The red dots were still visible.
He snapped several pictures, texting them to Kirby. I’ve called for medical assistance. He stared again at Liam, horrified but at a loss for what to do. Leaning closer, he stared from different angles at Liam’s face. There was no movement, no breathing, just the wide-open eyes pointing straight ahead. He held his index and middle finger on Liam’s neck but didn’t detect a pulse. He tried several more times, but nothing. Liam was dead.
A whirring grew louder from across the way. Perplexed, Stone left the tree house, looking down the long driveway to the pasture on the other side of the rural road. A military helicopter swooped over a clump of trees and hovered directly across from him. The thumping of the blades dominated the area. A man with a bullhorn sat at an open side door.
“Robert Stone, step away from the house and move toward the road.”
Stone blinked, startled to hear his name.
“Robert Stone, step away now!” The man turned to somebody in the helicopter, and the machine settled onto the road.
As Stone walked down the driveway, the man stepped out of the helicopter, pulling up zippers and fixing clasps to a hazmat suit. He finished getting his hood in place, bent slightly, and walked away from the helicopter. The engine’s sound increased, and the chopper rose and flew off.
Calm returned as the suited man strode up the driveway. “Doctor Stone?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Major General Haggerty.” The stern face of a no-nonsense military commander stared at him through the visor. “You called 911 for a possible biological hazard. I’m working with Public Health. You seem to have discovered an infection.” He looked toward the house. “You contacted Professor Kirby with some photos. This is definitely of interest to us. Describe to me what you saw.”
Stone recounted his movements around the farm, then pointed to the oak tree. “Liam’s dead, like the animals, with a blooming flower coming out of his forehead, which hit me with some sort of pollen dust.”
Haggerty stepped closer and studied his face. “I want to have somebody examine you.”
A horn blared in the distance, and the pair turned to watch a line of white trucks up the rural road. When they arrived at the farm, some parked on the road while a few drove onto the driveway and fanned out on the front lawn. Dozens of soldiers in hazmat suits stepped out, some carrying equipment cases.
A suited-up man breathlessly ran up to the two of them. “Bob! Are you okay?”
“Vincent?” Stone peered at the visor of the helmet.
“I shared your photos with somebody I know at Public Health,” Kirby said. “The next thing I know, the military contacted me. It would seem there’s more going on here than I could have possibly imagined.”
“Is this a military operation?” Stone asked.
“The military is apparently furnishing coordination and logistics. There are teams from the CDC, the NIAID, and the Department of Health and Human Services, all under the direction of the White House.”
Six soldiers broke away from the group and approached Haggerty. Stone and Kirby watched.
“I want to secure the area,” Haggerty barked as he pointed at the road. “Team 1, I need that road locked down in both directions. No one, and I mean no one, gets through. Explore every nook and cranny along this stretch. Check for other farms. I want every living soul tested, and I want it done yesterday.”
He pivoted toward the house, his expression stern. “Team 2, you’re taking the house. Team 3, the barn! Leave no stone unturned, including every inch of the land surrounding them. Team 4, there’s an infected individual up in that tree, though he may be deceased by now. Get him down, and I want a full postmortem ASAP.” He gestured at Stone. “When you’re done with that body, I want this man thoroughly examined. Move out!”
The four departed and met up with their groups. Haggerty looked around. “The prevailing winds have been from east to west. Team 5, go upwind and see if you can find a source of contaminant. Team 6, I want you to go downwind and see if this has spread.” As the last two men walked away, Haggerty said, “Keep in mind, Team 5, there may not be anything to find. The source could be right here on this farm, but let’s make sure.”
The three stood for a moment, watching the men head off in various directions.
“Dr. Stone,” Haggerty said.
“Yes, sir?”
“Tell me how you got involved in all this.”
Stone told his story up to this moment, with Kirby periodically adding a confirmation. Haggerty paid close attention, occasionally rubbing his chin.
As they stood together, several men lowered the body from the tree. It was stiff, locked in a sitting position. They maneuvered the corpse into a sealed bag before four men, one at each corner, carried the bag toward a truck.
“Hold on!” Haggerty said.
The four men set the bag down.
“Open it,” Haggerty said. He crouched down and stared at the flower protruding from the head. “What do you think, Sergeant Renfrew?”
“I’d say there’s no doubt about it, sir.” A soldier crouched down beside Haggerty and pointed to the flower. “This appears to be the same as the other cases. The size of the plant may differ depending on the host, whether human or animal, but the flower itself is the same.” He gestured to the body. “It’s curious how the muscles get locked in place while the victim is alive and remain fixed like that after death, as if in rigor mortis.”
Haggerty shook his head. “God, how fast is this going to spread?”
“Our antifungals work, general.”
“That’s all very well and good, sergeant, but I’m afraid the problem will get out of control before we have a chance to implement the solution. Heck, it’s already spreading by leaps and bounds. We’re never going to keep up.”
Haggerty stood back up and gestured. “Let’s see what the boys in the lab find, but I suspect there won’t be anything new.”
The men zipped up the bag and carried off the body.
“Just what’s going on, General?” Stone asked.
Haggerty looked at him for a moment, hesitating, before letting out a sigh. “It’s going to come out, eventually.” He shrugged. “We first heard reports from other countries. At first, we didn’t think much of it, but a case appeared here. We were stunned. How could such a thing happen?” He shifted his feet and crossed his arms. “Then the cases became four. This wasn’t an isolated incident or some sort of freak event. It was real; it wouldn’t go away and certainly get worse.”
“Do you think it’ll spread around the country?” Kirby asked.
“I don’t know, but I think we should err on the side of caution and treat it like a potential catastrophe. It pays to be prudent.”
A soldier approached the group. “General?”
Haggerty nodded, and the two of them stepped to one side.
Stone looked at Kirby. “What is this, Vincent?”
“I’m not sure, but from what I gather, some sort of fungal infection similar to the Cordyceps I mentioned has leaped from insects to humans.”
“How is that possible?”
Kirby shrugged. “Who knows what is possible? Bacteria, viruses, and various things mutate; what exists tomorrow doesn’t exist today. The enemy we may end up fighting has not yet taken form.”
“Enemy. Interesting choice of words.”
Two soldiers set up several folding tables as a group came from behind the house carrying bags and placed them on the tables.
“I’ve been working in biology for many years, but I now realize how little we know about how the world works. We sometimes get cocky about the extent of our expertise, but that old saying attributed to Isaac Newton seems very apt. We are all just children playing on the seashore, fiddling with pebbles and seashells while the vast ocean of truth lies undiscovered before us.”
Haggerty stood at the table, examining the contents of each bag.
“So far, we’ve found two chipmunks, a field mouse, and several squirrels,” one soldier said. “Around the barn, there are goats, a cow, chickens, and a pony. They all have been infected.”
Haggerty looked back toward the house. “We have to assume the entire area has been contaminated.”
“It would seem that way, sir.”
Stone turned and took a halting step.
Kirby glanced at him curiously.
Stone took another step.
“Bob, where are you going?”
Stone let out some incomprehensible gurgling. “I... can’t...” — his entire body jerked as he placed a foot forward — “control...” He hesitated, then took another step.
Haggerty and the soldiers had all turned to look at Stone, watching him step, shake, and step again.
“Bob? What’s the matter?” Kirby asked.
“Inoculate him!” Haggerty commanded.
Four soldiers rushed forward and seized Stone from his arms and legs. He thrashed about as they carried him to the tables and laid him out.
“Did you inhale red spores?” Haggerty leaned over, looking Stone in the face.
Stone twisted his arms and legs, trying to get out of the soldiers’ grasp.
Kirby stared, alarmed. “What’s the matter with him?”
“He’s been infected.”
“How?”
Stone mumbled, and Haggerty leaned closer as the vet mumbled again in a whisper.
Sergeant Renfrew returned from a truck carrying a medical bag. He retrieved a mask and a vial and then fitted the two together. Standing over Stone’s head, Renfrew tried to get the mask on, but Stone jerked his head back and forth. Another soldier stepped in, pressed both hands on either side of his head and held fast. Renfrew got the mask seated properly and held it in one hand as he used the other to get ties around each ear. Wide-eyed, Stone stared upward.
“The antifungal should take effect immediately,” Renfrew said, stepping back.
There was a long moment of silence as everyone around stared at the man. Occasionally, Stone jerked his arms and legs, but the soldiers maintained a tight grip and kept him immobilized.
“What’s supposed to happen?” Kirby asked.
“The sergeant administered an antifungal concoction some researchers have been experimenting with. Testing has shown it works in controlled circumstances, but this will be a live field test. Fingers crossed.”
Stone’s body heaved upward, then collapsed. He panted.
The soldier tentatively loosened his grip. Stone didn’t move. He let go and moved away.
Copyright © 2023 by William Quincy Belle
