The Great Death series
		Seeing Hope Among the Ashes
		Crumbly Writer All rights reserved © 2014
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III: Fowler’s Crossing

           

“Homebase, this is First daughter, come in. Over.”

There was no response, so Alice shrugged at Mattie and repeated her broadcast. As the radio remained silent, she prepared to try again when it crackled in response.

“Homebase here. There’s no need to repeat yourself. After all, there’s not a lot of chatter on the line, it just takes us a while to reach the equipment.”

“Dad? It’s terrific hearing your voice again.” Alice’s voice brightened and a smile crept across her face. “It’s been a long few days.”

“I gathered. So how did things turn out? You’ve been incommunicado for some time. Whenever that happens I imagine the worst.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly go well. We lost one, but we managed to save the second. I was forced to treat someone I didn’t think would survive, which almost threatened the entire effort. You should broadcast what happened here as a warning to others about the risks of treating the sickest rather than the healthiest. If this was an inoculation it would be one thing, but for a treatment this brutal, treating someone with only so much time just doesn’t make sense.”

David’s sigh was obvious even over the static in the line. “I can relate. Losing someone after working that hard is devastating. It must have been tough.”

“She almost lost it,” Mattie added. “She ripped Liz’s chest open!”

“Actually, Dad, can you get Tom. I’ve got information he’s going to love. What Mattie says is true. It was the oddest thing. I was working on Liz when her abdomen opened up. But I got our first direct autopsy photos. I’m sure Tom can examine them to identify what happens to plague victims. With any luck, he can come up with improved treatments for the plagues. At least something we could use to delay their deaths long enough for your plasma treatment to work.”

“Sorry, but Tom is out on another supply run. But how is he supposed to examine a video autopsy, and how do you know enough to conduct one?”

“I don’t, and that’s the whole point. He can’t conduct one and the rest of us don’t know how to perform them. But I took detailed photos of as much as I could see so he can examine what occurs. Since I can’t send the photos, you have to ask Ayana to pick them up from Thomas when she brings their plasma resupply. I took samples of the blood, blood vessels and tissue. They’re storing it in a refrigerated cooler for her, but she’d better make this stop a priority. If we each perform these impromptu autopsies, they won’t be pretty, but hopefully we’ll learn more about how the plagues work.”

“That sounds great. I’m sure he’ll be excited.” David paused and silence descended on the line for a few moments. “So, I hate to ask something so personal, but did you or Mattie … get involved with anyone?”

“Ew!” Mattie yelled from the passenger seat, pulling her knees up and scrunching up her face.

Alice laughed. “You mean more involved than holding someone as they shit, piss and vomit all over you, while you’re singing and cleaning them the whole time. You can’t get more personal than that. But no, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Thomas was definitely interested. He wouldn’t shut up about how much he loved us, but I emphatically told him no. Not so much because I wasn’t tempted, but because he was too weak. If we’d done anything, he’d be dead! He’s too fragile and I’d be too eager and athletic.”

“Well, that’s good to know on a number of fronts. But just so you know, I’m not overly concerned with whether you do or not. I realize there’s a natural inclination for incredibly close relationships to develop, so I’m not about judge. Despite refusing people repeatedly, I couldn’t get out of it myself, and I don’t regret a moment I spent with any of them.”

“Yeah, we know,” Mattie reminded him. “We were there and heard every word.”

“Hey, if you didn’t want to hear the details, there was absolutely no reason to listen in,” David argued.

“It was more of a political statement,” Mattie explained. “Given what we’d been through, it was important that you stopped treating us as kids. Alice made a very convincing argument.”

David laughed, having long known Alice was the initial instigator. “Well, I’m glad to hear from you both after so long. So now you’re separating; going in different directions, huh?”

“Yeah, things only get harder from here on out,” Alice replied. “Both for us and for you.”

“The hardest part is not being there to support you. I feel helpless, waiting days before anyone bothers to inform me of what’s happening.”

“Yeah, sorry about the radio silence. As you can tell, we aren’t getting the best reception. Being this low doesn’t help with transmissions.”

“Next time, tie a wire to a rock and toss it into atree or string it along the side of a building. That’ll improve your reception, even if only marginally. But it’s OK, just expect me to give you grief after making me wait so long,” David teased before they started describing the details of what each had been through lately.

07: Between a Pig and a Poke

“The idea of Alice conducting autopsies in the field must have Tom salivating.” Franklin was accompanying David on one of his periodic clean-up details. Since he was the only one capable of safely handling the dead, he took it upon himself to search the undergrowth on the ranch for the harder to find plague victims which might contaminate the soil or other animals. Franklin and Regina had limited the range of their flocks, so increasing their pasture area was a valuable benefit.

“He’s still not back yet, but I’m sure he’ll be intrigued.” David reached under a bush, extracting another emaciated bird carcass, which he dropped into his bag. “There’s a lot he can learn from these impromptu autopsies, especially if she and the other girls manage to conduct more of them in the field.”

“Well, Alice isn’t one to shy away from trying things on her own,” Franklin commented, remembering the bright but headstrong young woman. “After all, she takes after her old man.”

“I like to think so, but she’s also a bright and highly motivated woman in her own right.” David laughed at imaginary thoughts. “She’s currently wrestling with her own demons, though, just like the other girls.”

“How so?” Franklin prompted, intrigued by what the girls were up to.

“They’re discovering that saving someone isn’t a simple onetime thing. It creates a permanent attachment which can never be broken. It’s similar to giving birth, for both parties.”

Franklin laughed at the idea as well. “As I said; like father, like daughter.”

“She fended off the latest, who promised to follow her to the ends of the earth. But it’s hard beating back such utter devotion.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Franklin glanced at David with an admiring look David still found unnerving, though he’d grown to expect them.  “The issue might even be bigger. You realize, as we rebuild society, our old political boundaries and ideals will no longer have the same meaning. No one will remember Washington, Lincoln or even Julius Caesar. Instead they’ll celebrate those who are now reshaping civilization.”

“Yeah, and…?” David asked, not liking where this was leading.

“The survivors will redraw state boarders based on different survivor groups, and they’ll rename cities. I expect you and each of the girls will soon have to deal with cities, monuments and memorials being named after you.”

David waved the thought aside, moving on to the next bush and digging around the underbrush. “That’s the last thing any of us need. We’re normal people struggling to survive. We were just lucky enough to make it when others didn’t.”

“Don’t be so shy, you did much more than that. Even before you recovered, you were doing things no one else could and giving people across the country directions, instructions, guidelines and objectives. That says a lot about you as both an individual and as a leader.”

David extracted an emaciated rat carcass, dangling it by its tail as he stood up. “Look, don’t you even think about writing a biography about what a ‘great leader’ I am. In time, people more deserving than I will step forward.”

Franklin smiled, glancing in the other direction as if distracted. “Do you realize what they’ve taken to calling this region, what used to be known as Fowler’s Crossing?”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” David groused, dropping the rat in his bag before scrounging through the underbrush once again.

“Everyone calls it ‘David’s Crossing’, at least those who don’t simply call it either home or ‘David’s place’. No one has the slightest clue who Fowler was. The only thing they know is we’re each here because of you. If it weren’t for you, we’d all be crouching in terror, afraid of approaching anyone else. You’ve changed lives, David, you’ve—”

“Ack! Get away!” Wendy’s scream resounded over the fields. David brought both her and her brother Adam with him, leaving them to help Regina with the chores.

Both men turned, looking back towards the house.

“Damn it, Jacob. Leave her alone!” Regina’s angry response sparked the two men into action.

David headed for the screams immediately, while Franklin took a moment to respond. It was a rule everyone recognized that you don’t fuck with David’s people. He was fiercely loyal and would do anything to protect those close to him. It was no surprise he’d rush to their defense. The fact the kids were the youngest survivors—aside from Mattie—and he hadn’t saved their sister and friends, added gravity to David’s resolve.

Realizing that running with a bag of animal carcasses wasn’t a brilliant idea; David flung it to the side. Franklin noted where it fell, as they’d need to collect it before it contaminated anything else. David though, was focused on the kids and wasn’t hampered by such distractions.

“Get back, you filthy brute!” Adam yelled, the emotions making his already high voice even shriller.

Not knowing the danger they faced, David ran as fast as he could. He’d known keeping Jacob was problematic for some time. When they’d first rescued him he’d been cute, adorable and represented a future source of survival. But what no one understood was his small size resulted more from malnourishment than age, and as he’d recovered he’d grown quickly. What’s more, since nobody knew much about farm livestock, they hadn’t realized why farmers don’t keep ungelded boars around long. The damn things grew huge, and their aggression matched their surging hormones.

Approaching the pigpen from the side, David didn’t hesitate. Though he never recovered his weight after his illness, he vaulted over the wooden fence, landing behind the group vainly trying to wrangle Jacob from his assault on little Wendy.

She’d been backed against Jacob’s shed, and with nowhere to go, he was shoving her roughly around with his snout. Jacob snorted like an angry bull and stamping his hooves dangerously close to Wendy’s legs. The defiant blonde 11-year-old tried to fend him off, but it had no effect on the massive animal. Adam tried valiantly to protect his sister by shoving the huge boar aside, but his actions didn’t even register with Jacob. Regina, learning more about livestock since taking over the ranch, prodded Jacob with a long pole, causing him to occasionally ignore Wendy to snap at the pole. Melissa Eisemann, looking elfin compared to Jacob’s massive size, was ineffectually trying to drag him away from Wendy by his hindquarters—asking to be kicked in the gut for the effort.

David ran across the pen, yelling over the disorganization. “Damn it, I told you to watch that pig. His hormones make him meaner than a snake!”

Wendy glanced up, still fending off Jacob’s snout with both hands, dodging his small but sharp tusks. “Help!” she pleaded, not looking relieved at David’s presence yet.

Regina gave Jacob one last poke before turning her head to shout at David. “We were. We were outside the fence. But when I dropped my bucket, Wendy crawled under the fence to get it.”

Reaching the scene, David shoved Melissa aside, grasped Regina’s pole and twisted it from her hands before turning on Jacob himself. Adam had enough sense to jump clear, not wanting to be caught between two behemoths: Jacob, a massive animal of powerful muscles and flashing teeth, and the no less frightening David, a thin man with a commanding nature no one ever questioned in an emergency.

“JACOB!” David bellowed.

The pig swiveled on David. Finding a more formidable opponent, he rushed forward, his raw aggression blinding him to who he was attacking. Rather than shying away, David stood his ground and smashed his open hand hard against the animal’s snout, producing a surprisingly loud crack. The combination blow and noise surprised and stunned Jacob, but it was too late to stop his rush and David was thrown backwards against the shed. He landed with a sharp crack as he slammed against the crudely constructed wooden structure. Jacob stepped back. He too, like everyone else, idolized David and the two of them had always gotten along well, so being struck by David rattled him. He took a couple steps backward.

“Get out of here,” David ordered Regina and the kids, shaking his head to clear his vision. They wasted no time doing so. Jacob, still panting hard, didn’t seem to notice. However, when Melissa moved away, Jacob’s head swiveled as the flash of her crimson skirt caught his attention. With little warning, he charged after the heavyset woman while she screeched and scrambled backwards.

Her screams, rather than frightening the boar, encouraged him and he barreled straight at her. David, realizing what was happening, jumped up, rushing after both.

Jacob caught Melissa at the far end of his pen, slamming her against the rails and breaking the fencing plank behind her. She screamed, clutching at her side as she collapsed, grunting heavily at the force of the impact. David, incensed, kicked Jacob in the ass, and when he turned, slapped him across the face. Again, the large boar seemed surprised David would turn on him, not quite connecting his responses to the others with David’s displeasure.

“Franklin, Greg, get her out of here,” David hissed, staring Jacob down. Surprisingly, the pig seemed cowed by David’s glare and didn’t make any protests.

Melissa struggled to her feet, clutching her thigh. “I’m OK. His baby tusks gored me, but other than that I’m fine.” She moved away, but her leg seemed to disagree with her prognosis.

“Bad Jacob,” David lectured as he led the full-sized boar back to his shelter. “I’m very disappointed in you!” Jacob lowered his head, as if ashamed at this dressing down. “Someone get some wipes and a medical kit. Cuts are dangerous around here, and you should all be checked to make sure you haven’t been injured worse than you think.”

“You know, I know you still think of Jacob as Alice’s little pet piglet, but I think we need to find a few cattle prods just for situations like this,” Regina suggested. But no one specifically responded.

The pen, which had been a wild melee of people and animals before was suddenly a peaceful but disturbed mud pit with divots, clots and small shards of clothing. Everyone had crawled free of the enclosure.

“Shit!”

David spun to see what was wrong, not releasing his hold on Jacob. In response, Regina pointed down at his hand. Lifting it, he noted the plastic glove he used to carry the plague carcasses was tinged with red, blood pooling at the fingers. He also noted his sleeve sticking to his arm.

David shrugged. “I must have scraped myself when I fell. I’m not concerned. We can clean and tape it up easily enough.”

“No, look again,” Regina warned, pointing below his hand.

Glancing down, David’s eyes cane to rest on Jacob’s downturned face. He saw something which sent a shiver down his spine. Kneeling, still not releasing the animal, he looked Jacob in the eyes. Thinking he was forgiven, Jacob tried to lick David’s face, but David blocked him with his forearm while holding Jacob’s head back. Running down his face were a couple tracks of fresh blood along with a spotted red hand print.

“Crap!” David groaned, trying to wipe the blood from Jacob’s face with his sleeve. “Quick, get me something to clean this up with. If it stays, he’ll be infected.”

“The kids are already on their way,” Franklin assured him. “At least you wore gloves.”

“Damn it, the gloves don’t matter.” David continued wiping the blood away, though all he did was smear it around. “It’s my blood. The plagues are transmitted via fluid contact. The blood provides a direct infection route. I may have just killed our last chance at a dependable source of food in the future.”

“Uh, David?”

“What is it, Melissa?” David responded crossly.

“Your concern about your blood on Jacob made me examine my wound again. Aside from my own, Jacob smeared blood on me as well. I don’t know if it’s mine, his or yours.”

“Crap! Could this get any worse?”

“Here’s the wipes,” Wendy yelled as she ducked under the fence, no longer intimidated by Jacob.

“I’ve got a bottle of bleach and another of antiseptic,” her brother Adam added, not as willing to enter Jacob’s pen.

David motioned Wendy forward. When she handed him the antiseptic wipes, he yanked out sheets to wipe Jacob’s face. He indicated for Adam to toss his load, which he did, throwing them to his sister. Jacob looked on, no longer upset by strangers and activity in his pen. David wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling the pig understood the risk of blood and exposure, having witnessed his farm mates dying after being exposed. In fact, if his sense of smell was anywhere near as good as Lassie’s, he probably knew better than David himself.

Wendy handed him the bottle of antiseptic, but he instead grabbed for the bleach, pouring it directly on the bloodstains on Jacobs face, legs and chest. Jacob reacted, pulling his head away, but David held him steady as he continued cleaning him up. Since they treated urine and sweat stains frequently, the bleach was watered down to manageable levels, but it still irritated Jacob’s sensitive nose.

Meanwhile Wendy ran the antiseptic to Melissa, who ripped her skirt off and began swapping her wound. It took several minutes of vigorous rubbing with a towel Wendy had brought to wipe it all off, but finally David sat back. “I did what I could. We’ll have to wait and see. But unless Oscar is already pregnant, we may have kissed one of our biggest hopes for survival goodbye.”

“Do you think the bleach will stop it?” Adam asked.

David shook his head, getting Jacob to lie down by patting the ground next to him. When he was smaller, Alice spent time teaching him how to be social, before he grew overly aggressive. “Maybe if we’d applied it right away, but after this long, I doubt it. The plagues are spread by direct contact, and exposure to blood is the fastest and most effective transfer mechanism we know. That’s what infected Peter and Nina. Just a few stray splatters of blood, and they both died because we couldn’t treat them soon enough.”

Melissa glanced up, her hand stopping its insistent scrubbing. “Does that mean…?”

David shrugged sadly. “Yes, it means we need to treat you. If we wait to see if you’re infected, it may be too late. As I said, blood transfer is quite direct. If we don’t start treatment right away, your hopes of survival drop sharply.”

“What about Jacob?” Adam asked.

“Forget Jacob,” his sister hissed. “We’re talking about someone’s life here. Jacob’s just a damn pig.”

“But if he dies, we may not be able to feed everyone in the future.” Adam glanced around to determine whether everyone else thought his concerns were justified. Their silence answered him.

“There’s always the llamas and the buffalo,” Franklin suggested.

“That’s our hope,” David suggested, “but they aren’t as domesticated. We can’t lock them in small pens during the winter, and if they can’t find sufficient food they may starve. Either way, we’ll have to see how they fare before we can consider them sufficient.”

David turned to the others, scattered along the pen’s wooden fence poles. “We’re on the horns of a dilemma, folks. I should focus on Melissa, as it will take my full attention to guide her through the treatment. However, by ignoring Jacob, we’re guaranteeing he’ll die, possibly infecting the pen and Oscar too, potentially robbing humankind of its last large domesticated food source. We may find another immune breeding boar somewhere, but that’s a tremendous gamble to make when we’re talking about everyone’s survival.”

“You want to treat Jacob?” Franklin asked, stunned by the concept.

“Would that even work?” Seeing Jacob lying calm under David’s reassuring hands, Regina sat on the wooden fence surrounding Jacob’s pen, dangling her legs over the edge. Everyone kept their distance from Melissa, even though she had little chance of being any more contagious this soon. “Will your treatment work on a pig, or would his body reject another species’ blood?”

David sighed, glancing between Jacob and Melissa. “I wish Tom was here, he’d have a better idea of what’s involved.”

“Actually, the process is called xenograft; it refers to switching any body part between species.” Franklin reacted when everyone turned to regard him. “Hey, when we took over the ranch, I read up on animal care. I figured without Monique, I’d need to treat any animals that get sick.” He too climbed up on the fence to more comfortably discuss the situation, which he figured would get involved. “Pigs have sixteen separate blood types, but since your plasma is free of antibodies, it should be fine. What’s more, pigs are ideal for transplants because they’re one of our closest species. That’s why they’re used to test new drugs. The fact their organs are similarly sized to humans’ is an extra benefit.”

“So, barring any surprises, I could treat both.”

“You could, if you can manage it,” Greg pointed out. “Can you monitor Melissa and Jacob at the same time, without taking any breaks for four to five days?”

“What about the other people you’ve treated recently, couldn’t they help?” Regina asked.

“No, Melissa is already infected. By the time we reached Jeff and Jessica, who are now running their own treatment center in Harrisonburg, they couldn’t reach here in time. What’s more, the new girl I treated has been training with Ayana, so she’s unavailable too. I’m the only one available. The others can keep stockpiling plasma while I’m busy, but that’s about all.”

“Wait, am I going to be treated here in this pigpen, or does Jacob get a bed in the trailer beside me?” Melissa lowered her skirt and got up, too nervous to stand still. “Can we even fit Jacob on a bed? Would it even support his weight?”

“Not to mention, what’s the likelihood of getting gored while he’s sick?” Greg asked. “What’s more, if he doesn’t make it, how are you going to get his carcass out while you’re single-handedly treating Melissa?”

David shook his head, focusing on Jacob as he scratched his belly. Jacob seemed content, making little squeaking sounds just like when he was a wee piglet. “I haven’t decided whether I’ll even consider it yet. It would be incredibly risky for both of them. I’m not concerned about myself.”

“You may not be, but the rest of us are,” Regina argued. “If you get killed or injured, there’s nobody left to treat us when we get sick.”

Greg rubbed his chin before changing tactics. “Taking the contrary position, if Melissa … didn’t survive, it would be sad, but it wouldn’t change the future of mankind. However, if pigs become extinct because we didn’t even try to rescue Jacob, we could all starve if the winters get so bad we can’t grow food.”

“Thanks a lot for the reassuring words,” Melissa teased, making a face at Greg’s response.

“You’d sacrifice Melissa to save a damn pig?” Wendy demanded.

“Watch the language, young lady,” David cautioned.

“Screw that!” Wendy planted her hands on her hips and stared at David through the fencing. “We’re talking about whether Melissa lives or dies. I mean, I like bacon too, but if it comes down to him or us, I’d choose one of us.”

David stopped rubbing Jacob as he answered Wendy, glancing at Melissa. “Don’t worry, it’s not him or Melissa. I’ll definitely treat her, I’m just considering whether I can treat Jacob, too.”

“Well, if it makes any difference, it’s already too late to eat him,” Adam argued. “So feeding him scraps from our limited food supply have been a waste if we let Jacob perish.”

Greg whistled. When everyone turned he was smiling a knowing grin. “And even if you successfully treat both Melissa and him, if Oscar isn’t already pregnant, then Jacob and Oscar will never be able to … make bacon in the future.”

Melissa groaned, brushed the dirt off her hands and started walking towards the house. “Pardon me, but if you need to consider this, I suggest you do it in the SUV. Since my chances drop the longer it takes to start the treatment, I’d rather we get back as soon as possible.”

“Hold on.” Franklin jumped off the fence. “Since we can’t move Jacob to David’s without a struggle, you’ll need to remain here. I’ll call David’s and have someone bring the supplies out. Hopefully they can also find Tom so we can debate just how safe this is. Meanwhile we’ll stay here and figure out where David is going to treat you both, here, the house or the barn.”

Melissa sighed. “Getting the plague is one thing, having to share a bed with a pig is another, but suffering through both while lying on a dirty straw floor is about as low as you can sink.”

“It’s better than being dead,” Adam mumbled. None of them could argue with that.

________________________

“What kind of nonsense are you pulling?” The three workers turned as Tom stormed into the back of the barn where they were working. He stopped, swiveling his head. “Where the hell are you, anyway?”

“We’re in the horse trailer,” Greg called, “and yes, David’s in here with us too.”

Reassured of his target’s presence, Tom marched forward before hesitating near the entrance. “What the frig are you doing in here?”

“We couldn’t use the barn or we’d never be able to use it again. And no one thought treating a six-hundred pound pig in the house was a brilliant move.” Franklin rested his hand against the side of the horse trailer they were working on repurposing, proud of his idea. “At least here we don’t have to worry about contamination as everything can be scrubbed clean, and as you can see,” he added, making a wide sweeping gesture, “we’ve already laid a floor and laminated the walls to isolate any contagions.”

Tom took it all in before shaking his head, remembering his original purpose. “David, this is the most asinine idea you’ve ever come up with! What the hell makes you think it will work?”

David grinned at the frustrated scientist, always ranting about working in non-pristine environments. “I’m glad to see you too, and thanks for the encouragement. After all, this will be difficult enough, but your commitment may make the difference between our success and failure.” Holding his hand out, he motioned for his friend to hand over the medical supplies he was carrying.” I’m glad you brought everything. There isn’t much time if we’re going to save Melissa’s life, so we need to start right away.”

Tom held the plasma tubes out of David’s reach. “Hold on, I’ll need to help set everything up. Do you even know how high a charge you’ll need on a defibrillator to resuscitate a full-sized pig?”

“Boar,” Franklin reminded him, holding the new wall segment up for Greg to hammer into place. The lamination they’d painted the boards with made starting the nail difficult, but it was worth it to seal the wood from possible contagions. “There’s a big difference between a gelded pig and a full-sized boar.”

Tom glanced at the heavy wooden table they’d constructed as he started laying out his equipment. “Yet you still insist on treating one alongside a deathly ill woman on this crude little scaffold?”

“They’re building a raised platform for Jacob while we’ll put our usual sealed mattresses on this higher riser for Melissa. It’s not ideal, but the height difference makes it difficult for Jacob to disrupt anything.” David patted the wall on the far side and smiled at the scientist. “You need to install hooks to hold the drip bags. We obviously can’t utilize those medical stands with critters running hither and yon.”

“You do realize just how insane this is, don’t you? I mean, aside from trying to treat a human and a … ‘boar’ in the same space. Chances are, Jacob will die within minutes of starting the transfusion.”

David shrugged helplessly. “What choice do we have? We’re dealing with potentially the only remaining viable food source we’ll need to survive. If any other pigs did survive, they’re likely all gelded.”

“Oh, really?” Tom began counting off his fingers, “we have buffalos, ostriches, exotic chickens and assorted small rodents, ducks, turtles and a few others. Not only are there all of those, but there’s also all the wild boars scattered across the country.”

“But we don’t have sufficient numbers to make breeding pairs. The smaller animals aren’t large enough to feed us if there’s no other food source, say if the snow starts falling and doesn’t stop for some time. As for wild boars, while a few might survive a single plague, we can’t count on them surviving subsequent plagues. What’s more, pigs are a domesticated animal which are easier to feed and care for. The other animals aren’t.”

Tom laid out his equipment and extracted the needles and plasma bags. “The buffalo are plenty big and they come equipped with their own fur coats. Walk with me, we’ll need to start Melissa’s transfusion even if Jacob dies, which is virtually assured.”

David waved him forward. “Right behind you, I need to be with both my patients anyway. I just came out to ensure they had everything they needed.”

Tom wasn’t so easily dissuaded, continuing to lecture David the entire way. “Ignoring our future food options, there’s little chance this will succeed. There are too many things to consider. Humans have eight separate blood types, pigs have sixteen. And even if you manage to successfully type Jacob’s blood, there are multiple things which could trigger a reaction. You’re talking about transferring something from another species and not expecting their body to react to the foreign substances. Animal blood contains substances, namely alpha-galactose epitopes, which aren’t present in humans. Since they’re not present in your plasma, it’ll cause Jacob’s immune system to attack, putting Jacob into deadly convulsions within minutes. It isn’t so much antibodies as anything which flags the blood as not being Jacob’s.”

“Actually, since we’re discussing plasma without active antibodies, it reduces the blood types to only four and eight, thus we’ve already halved our risk,” David teased.

Regina, on her way out to meet them, caught the last of Tom’s lecture. “You know, I read about this while reading up on animal husbandry when we first started. There was a short history of treating animals which talked about xenografts. In the 18^th century, someone in France first experimented with blood transfusions, transferring a sheep’s blood to a human, not once, but three separate times. Each one was not only successful, but occurred without complications. However, it triggered such a debate they decided it wasn’t worth the risk.”

“And it was a good decision,” Tom grunted. “The chances of disaster are astronomical.”

“But that’s the point,” David argued as they neared the door. “No matter what we do, Jacob’s virtually guaranteed to die. But by trying this, we stand at least a remote chance of saving not just him, but preventing the extinction of the entire pig population and potentially saving thousands of us over the next decade. Think of it, if we can successfully breed pigs again, we could carry baby pigs across the country to isolated communities which could each raise their own food without worrying how long the growing season is or trying to hunt contaminated animals.”

“You’re not going to give this up, are you?” Tom asked in resignation as he opened the door for David and Regina.

“Regina?” David asked.

“Damn right I’d do it! If it’s a matter of betting on a chance for mankind’s survival, I’d say go for it. After all, if Jacob is going to die either way, we’re not really gambling. This is what we call a no-brainer. It’s a gamble, but there’s no way we come out any worse.”

Tom sighed, laying the medical supplies on a table beside Melissa. “You go ahead and start Melissa’s treatment. I want to try to make the treatment safer. I found some UV equipment we can use to eliminate things in the blood which Jacob’s immune system might react to. If nothing else, if I triple-filter the plasma it should eliminate a lot of the impurities. It might even limit the plague viruses in the blood itself. Let’s cut back on the amount of plasma we transfuse too. We’ve already determined that more than a single treatment doesn’t improve the chances of surviving, so let’s cut the dosage way back. The less plasma we use, the less likely Jacob will react negatively.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re on board. We need someone to advise us on how to succeed rather than talk us out of our only option.”

“I’ve got to agree,” Melissa added as she rolled up her sleeve and David inserted the needle to begin the transfusion. “As unsettling as sharing a deathbed with a pig is, I’d rather not survive only to starve to death over the next couple of years.”

________________________

Melissa glanced at the smaller IV Tom suspended above Jacob’s head. “Are you sure you have enough room to work?”

“I’m fine, assuming he doesn’t decide to bolt.”

David sat beside Jacob, slowly petting him without his gloves as Jacob eyed the activity around him. “He’ll be fine, as long as I’m here to calm him.”

“What exactly are you doing?” Melissa asked. “This is more involved than what you did with me.”

“There are fewer places to deliver intravenous injections in pigs than in humans. We can’t use the hind legs as there’s a risk of crippling them, thus the best location is in the neck.”

“Given his odds, that’s the least of his problems.” Melissa winced when she saw the needle Tom prepared. “Isn’t that a little large?”

“For a full size pig, we use a one and a half inch, 14 gauge needle. Since they’re so much bigger, we have to deliver it faster. Because Jacob is so large, and to reduce the amount of time his body can respond, I’m using a full two inch, 12 gauge needle.” Tom glanced at David. “Hold him steady, he’s likely to react when I jab him. People get anxious when you poke them near their faces.”

“He’ll be fine,” David assured him, gently talking to the large animal in a singsong voice.

“If you say so.” Tom carefully inserted the needle just below and behind Jacob’s ear, watching his reactions the entire time. Jacob jerked slightly but didn’t respond further. Tom let out a sigh of relief, turning the knob on the tube to begin the flow. They all watched as the IV drained.

“You’re right,” David observed. “That certainly is much faster.”

“The longer the injection takes, the greater his chance of rejecting it. I want to get it in quickly and hope his body replaces it with new blood as quickly as possible. That’s why we reduced the volume despite his large size.” Tom tapped the IV to adjust the flow and regarded the animal. “Be prepared,” Tom warned, “he should start convulsing somewhere around five to ten minutes.” He hesitated before continuing. “He’ll be dead within the next forty minutes.”

David shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to let him go yet.”

Melissa leaned over to look at David. “This is probably a terrible time to bring this up, but since everyone is committed, I wanted to point out your reason for treating Jacob is fallacious. Saving his life won’t save the pig population or provide for a safe food source in the future.”

“What do you mean?” David asked, intrigued.

“Well, if Jacob does survive and becomes immune, he’d never be able breed because he’d infect Oscar. What’s more, if he doesn’t survive, no one can eat him since the meat would be infectious. Not only can’t we eat it, but you couldn’t even cook it since the smoke would carry the virus downwind, infecting the entire area.”

“Damn, I hadn’t stopped to consider that.”

Tom shrugged. “Actually, we’ve already discussed it. It’s not an issue.”

“We did?” David asked.

“Come on, you remember. We had so many infected animals I wanted to determine whether they were safe to eat or not.“

“Honestly, I don't recall any such thing,” David argued.

“I know you were listening. You agreed with me.” Tom’s eyes took on an unfocused look as he tried to recall the specifics. He turned off the feed, removed the needle from Jacob’s neck and applied a quickset bandage to the wound. “I mentioned how the original xeno-pathogens were fried during reentry but their genetic material survived and was what mutated, transferring the characteristics of the alien pathogen to earthbound viruses, gaining entry into existing microorganisms.” Dave still didn't seem to catch on so Tom continued. “I said we could kill them off with sufficiently heated—”

David’s expression lightened as his memory finally clicked. “Oh, I remember now. You said we could start burning the dead bodies instead of burying them, which actually preserves the viruses.”

“Yeah, that was the conversation. Apparently I didn't realize you were distracted. Anyway, to determine whether we could consume the recovered animals, I conducted some experiments. I heated samples to see what survived. You've got to heat it so it's very well cooked, between 450 and 500 degrees, but it's safe then, and mostly safe if cooked to only around 365 degrees.”

“Wait,” Melissa interrupted. “I thought you couldn’t destroy the virus with heat.”

“Well, technically you wouldn’t be killing the virus. Instead you’re destroying the transfer cell. You remember, that’s the cell which binds to water molecules allowing the plagues to be transferred by touch, or carried in the air. If you heat those specific cells, they die. They leave the virus, but with no way to gain entry into the individual cells of the body, they pass straight through your system.”

Melissa sat up, alarmed. “You’re telling me you expect people to eat infected meat with a live virus, in the hopes the virus won’t awaken at some point?”

“Actually, it’s quite safe. Remember, the virus survived in outer space by entering into a dormant state. If you shut off the transfer mechanism, the virus goes dormant. Even if it reconnects with the transfer cells it remains safe, as it needs to be reactivated.”

“If that’s the case, I suggest you find a less scary way of expressing it.” Melissa stopped for a second before asking another question. “So is that what happens if you burn the bodies?”

Tom waved his tubing around, alarmed at the suggestion. “Oh, no. You still can’t dump bodies into a big pile and burn them like cords of wood. It doesn’t heat them properly and you’d spread the plague over a huge swath before reaching temperatures hot enough to destroy either the transfer cells or the virus itself.”

“So you can kill the virus?” David pressed.

“Oh, of course,” Tom explained, cleaning up his supplies. “However, the temperatures to destroy the virus are hard to achieve. But the key to destroying the transfer cells is turning the temperature high enough you engulf the entire body at one time. However, you can’t do that outside of a crematory. But it’s possible to restart a few crematoria using existing supplies since propane doesn’t break down as soon as gasoline.” Tom put the last of his supplies away and looked down at his friend. “You know, David, it’s amazing the effect you have on animals.”

“It’s part of the treatment protocol. The singing helps calm everyone. When someone is undergoing treatment, you don’t want to encourage panic. If people know what they’re facing, they’ll burn up the energy they’ll need later unnecessarily. The singing not only calms them, it changes how they receive the information, triggering both the left and right hemispheres of their brains. That allows them to continue even if one shuts down due to pain.”

David glanced from Tom to Jacob. “You’d better get the hell out of here. We needed your delicate hands to perform the transfusion while I held Jacob, but both he and Melissa will be highly contagious soon.”

“Wait,” Melissa objected. “I’m still not clear on this. So we can’t burn bodies unless it’s in a crematorium, but we can cook meat?”

“Oh, as always, there are lots of caveats.” Tom got his material and moved further away, making sure his facemask fit snug over his face. “You can’t sizzle bacon on the grill anymore. Instead you have to use a pressure cooker so the fumes don’t escape until all the transfer cells in the entire sample are killed and the virus inactivated. The meat wouldn’t be as appetizing, but once you’re done you can grill what you’d cooked to improve the taste.”

“OK, try to convey that to Jennifer in a way she can understand. She needs to get it out to people on the radio. Now get out of here. My hands are already full and I don’t need to add anyone else to the confined space in here.”

As Tom waved goodbye and wished them luck, Melissa turned to David, eyeing Jacob warily. “So Jacob is fine as long as you’re petting and singing to him, but what happens when you take naps or are treating me. What’s to prevent him from getting up and dislodging stuff, or attacking one of us?”

“Have you noticed the floor?”

“Yeah, you created it out of old packing crates. I was wondering why you didn’t use a solid floor. That would be more stable.”

“The key with animals is they won’t cross a surface with gaps in it. That’s why they have cattle gates, grids the cattle have to cross to exit the ranch via a road. Since animals that large can’t see their feet, they won’t risk crossing one. In Jacob’s case, no matter how upset he gets, he wouldn’t risk getting up on a floor he doesn’t feel safe on.”

Melissa whistled at that detail, which intrigued Jacob, who turned and regarded her. “Damn, you’re too clever by half. I’d never have thought of that.”

“It’s what works, so that’s essentially all that counts. Of course, it means I’ve got to watch my footing in an emergency to ensure I don’t break my own leg. Other than that, it’s a handy solution.”

“You know, you and Tom need to figure out how to communicate better. You not only didn’t pick up on how to safely treat infected meat, but you also didn’t pass on the details about reopening the crematoriums.”

“Yeah, when Tom speaks he’s in his own world. It’s tempting to space out when he starts spouting scientific mumbo-jumbo. But he often has vital information. The problem is he’s so distracted, he’ll tell you something like that and forget it when he moves on to the next thing, never checking whether you’ve ever followed through on it.”

“That’s why you need a social secretary, so they can double-check on both of you. A Guy Friday, who’ll protect you from your own forgetfulness.” Melissa took a moment to wipe her forehead. It seemed to be getting hotter in the little enclosed room.

“Alas, that was Alice’s role, and no one else seems quite as suited for it. But right now, everyone has so many different roles to fill they can’t take the time to constantly trail after me.”

“I’d volunteer, but assuming I survive the next couple of days, I figure you’ll want me to head out as another ambassador to set up treatment clinics in far-away lands.”

“It’ll be a while before you’re in any shape to travel, so don’t get ahead of yourself,” David cautioned.

Continued …

           

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