Beacon of Life

Prologue Despite having a vaccine and a cure, the Trillis pandemic wiped out billions across the world. It killed so fast the health organizations could not keep up with the increasing number of people being infected. They needed a plan.. In April, the world powers met in Washington, DC. and decided on a strategy to stop the pandemic. They would gather together all the vaccines and treatment drugs and move them to a central location in Wyoming. From there, they would be sent to strategic locations around the world.

Next, large jets in each country would disperse the treatment drugs to cure those who were already infected. That same night, they would spray the vaccination to protect people who had not yet contracted the disease. In May, they put the plan into effect but when the vaccination and the treatment drugs mixed together, an unthinkable Event happened…

Darkness Dark, dark! The horror of darkness, like a shroud, wraps me and bears me on through mist and cloud. —-Sophocles.

CHAPTER 1 Alecia Darkest Day San Francisco Alecia slammed on her brakes in time to avoid the grisly scene before her. Cars were piled together into gruesome mounds of crushed metal, and they blocked the street as far as she could see. As she jumped out of her car, the smell of gasoline and fire hanging in the air assaulted her. Dark smoke was everywhere. Only the crackling sound of burning cars broke the eerie silence. She could see no one. Slowly moving, in increasing horror, from one bloody crashed car to another, she looked for any signs of life. There were none. Was she the only one left in San Francisco?

Her morning had started normally enough. She had been up late, planning for the Friday morning meeting with her staff. She needed to bring them up-to-date on a huge $206 million dollar project. As director of operations for the largest architectural company in the city, it was her responsibility to make sure everything ran without a hitch. It was the type of challenge she loved most, even though fear plagued her of not being ready and drowning under the burden of others’ expectations and judgment. Despite her misgivings, she had never failed to bring a project to successful completion. Alecia groaned when the alarm blared, and she considered hitting the snooze button. Resisting the temptation, she jumped up and took a shower. Twisting her auburn hair into the low side chignon bun she thought made her look in control, but approachable, she dressed in her red power suit with matching heels. She thought she was prepared for anything.

Quickly driving out of the garage, she thought about the upcoming reunion of her sorority later that month. She was excited about seeing her two best friends from college, who she had only seen once since they had graduated six years ago. They had been through so much together. There was the unidentified flu that had the three of them quarantined together for six weeks. That had cemented their friendship in a way that few other things could do. While they now lived in three different states, they talked on cell phones at least once a week. But the thought of seeing them again in person at the reunion was exhilarating. Suddenly her normal morning was over! Mangled cars with their mutilated bodies filled the streets. Fire and black smoke permeated the air. She grabbed her phone and called 911. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. She ran to the corner Starbucks where she got her skinny grande mocha latte every day. It always opened at 5 a.m. but was still closed. She looked at her watch. It was 6:33 a.m. What was going on? With trembling hands, she called her mother. There was no answer. Her mom always kept her cell phone handy; she wanted to make sure she was available for her family. Frantically, she called her father, her two sisters, her older brother, and Jenny, her confidante at work. None of them answered. Desperate, she wondered what was happening. With her last hope she called her sorority sister, Jillian, who worked in Washington D.C. Unexpectedly Jillian answered and told her that she was at the prison, and almost everyone there was dead. Alecia abruptly dropped the phone in astonishment.

She couldn’t believe what she saw coming toward her. They were beings with square heads and long robes. Were they aliens? What were they? Should she run and hide? No, it was too late. Then as they came closer, she could tell that they were just people wearing hazmat suits. Relieved that they were not aliens and that she wasn't the only live person in San Francisco, she frantically waved them down. They came over. She greeted them, “have you two seen anyone else? Alive?”

“No, you're the first live person we've seen. And we're so happy to see you. We were afraid we were the only ones left,” the taller one answered. “I am Hank and this is Becky. I’m surprised you're still alive. You’re not wearing a hazmat suit.”

“Alecia here." She held out her hand and then realized they couldn't shake hands in their clumsy suits. In this frightening situation, why was she acting like she was in a high-pressure meeting? She chuckled mirthlessly — no meeting could ever be this stressful. “Why are you in hazmat suits?”

Becky, in her small-sized hazmat suit, looked like she would blow away in any strong wind. "We heard they were going to do the aerosol- spraying of the vaccine and cure. We were afraid that it would hurt the baby so we put on these hazmat suits from my dad’s work to be safe."

“Baby?" Alecia inquired. "Yes, I’m five months pregnant.

“We were going to Pleasanton to see her parents, but our ride didn't show up," Hank said.

Alecia turned to Hank, “But what made you think that you and the baby didn’t need the aerosol spray?”

“We just didn't think they had tested it enough, so we thought we'd be safer without it,'' Hank answered. “I’m headed to Castro Valley to check on my parents. You can come with me.” Alecia said. “It will be easier to get to Pleasanton from there" Becky looked at Hank. “How long do we need to keep these suits on? It’s so uncomfortable.” She shifted the helmet to make it fit more comfortably. “I don’t know,” he answered. “What do you think, Alecia?” “I’m not sure. Do you think that's what kept you alive? I wasn’t wearing one and I'm still alive.” Hank awkwardly hugged Becky. “I know it's uncomfortable, Sweetheart. But we’ve gone this far. Let’s leave them on for the rest of the day, to be sure.” Becky squirmed. “I can’t. I have to pee and I can’t hold it anymore.” “I didn’t think of that,” Hank answered. “We need to take them off and find a restroom.” Alecia pointed to the Starbucks. “They have a restroom. We’ll have to break in, but under the circumstances, I don't think it matters. I’ll go with you and see if I can figure out how to make some coffee. It won’t be up to Starbuck’s quality, but this morning I just need coffee of any kind. Soon they were back at Alecia’s car with two cups of coffee and a hot chocolate. Becky and Hank had taken off their hazmat suits. Becky was petite, as Alecia had figured from the size of the suit. She had deep red hair that fell in a curly mass around her shoulders. Hank was tall and lanky and she could only describe his hair as a carrot-top. When Hank put Becky in the front passenger side of the car, Alecia noticed how tenderly Hank fastened the seatbelt around Becky, patting her stomach. "Everything good in there, young man?” Alecia asked if they had any ideas about how to get around the wrecks and on to Castro Valley. It seemed impossible. Police cars and ambulances were in the emergency lanes and a fire truck blocked all the other lanes. The three sat there in despair. "Wait!" Alecia tried to rub the tension from her forehead. “We can walk through, can't we?" "Walk all the way to Castro Valley?" Hank hugged Becky close to him. "She can't make it." “No, we can take a car from the other side. Hopefully, the ones at the front should have less crash damage and be driveable," Alecia said. "What? We can’t do that.” Becky said. "Becky," Alecia said, "This is a different world. We’re going to be doing a lot of things to survive that we wouldn't have done yesterday. We need to ask ourselves if we are hurting anyone. The people in the cars are dead. They don't need them. We do!” "I guess so. I don't know how we are going to make it, anyway." Becky looked at Hank for support. Hank took her hand. "We’ll make it. We’ve got a family now to take care of and we’ll do what we have to do. And I know you can do it, Honey. We have to. Let's go." Alecia led the way, edging past the fire truck and the lifeless firefighters. Fire hoses snaked around their bodies. Becky cried out, "Oh no! Hank, do you know who that is?" pointing to one young firefighter. "That’s Dirk. He played the lead in the school play in our freshman year. "What was it called? Death of a Salesman". She began to cry and shake uncontrollably. "Becky, I know it's hard,” Hank hugged her. "But we have to keep going.” With his arm around her, he led her forward. Alecia continued to forge a path for the others, wishing she could give way to the sobs that were screaming in her throat. She thought that if she did, she might never stop. Crumpled car after mangled car, someone's dream car; practical commuter car; a vacation car; or the old affordable car blocked the way. Those cars were carrying mothers, fathers, daughters, grandmothers, boyfriends, and newlyweds. Her mind conjured up so many dreadful scenarios. She couldn't imagine how she could keep going. Put one foot in front of the other... Be strong.. One foot in front of the other… Don't think…don't cry…Don’t scream…One foot in front of the other. She chanted to herself. Finally, they reached the other side of the auto graveyard. There were four cars pulled over at the side of the freeway. There were no people in them. She assumed since they showed no evidence of being in the crash, they must have stopped to help the first victims. "The truck would be good if we needed to carry stuff," Hank said. "The van would be useful if we run into other people who need a ride. What we really need is a bulldozer to get through these blocked roads," Alecia said. The keys were in the van, and they were soon on their way. They maneuvered their way onto Highway 580, around the many crashed cars. But road blockages forced them to stop and walk through wrecked cars five times, each time having to find a vehicle with keys in the ignition and gas in the tank. As they walked through the pile-up of cars, Alecia tried not to look inside at the mangled, twisted bodies. With every wreck they walked through, it was a little easier for Alecia to hold back the tears. This scared Alecia, more than anything else. Was she getting immune to death? Had she stopped caring? What was happening to her. At the last crash site, they found an SUV, and continued to Alecia’s parents’ house. A different, more primordial fear gripped Alecia as she pulled the SUV into her parents’ driveway. Realizing it was 1:00 p.m. and time for her call with Jillian and Tanya, she delayed going inside and placed the three-way call to her friends.