8: The Mystery Virus
Sunday 13th September 1998
Lisa woke up to the sound of an argument, conducted at full volume. She sighed, and turned over, pulling the duvet and one of her pillows over her head. Her parents had been arguing almost constantly for the past two days – ever since Beatrice Wrigley had been hospitalised with a mysterious illness.
They'd been to see her yesterday; Beatrice looked even worse now, thin-faced and white as the sheets on her hospital bed. There had been dark rings around her eyes, as if she hadn't slept in months, and she hadn't spoken very much. When she did speak, it was in short, sharp sentences, and mostly about how hungry she was. And she'd scratched her arm the whole time, scratch scratch scratch, so that by the end of visiting time her forearm was red raw and beginning to bleed. The whole experience had deeply disturbed Lisa, and despite her sympathy for Beatrice she'd been glad to leave.
Downstairs, her mother shouted something about "the L-Project" and "the plan", and her father shouted back something that was incomprehensible through the thickness of the floorboards.
"Oh, shut up," groaned Lisa, and pulled the other pillow over her head to muffle the noise.
This didn't work, either. In desperation, Lisa switched on her alarm clock radio and stumbled out of bed, cursing, to find the remote control for her television. She switched on the television, and turned up the volume as loud as it would go.
"Phew," she sighed. The noise of the television and radio combined just managed to drown out whatever her parents were yelling about.
After a few minutes, though, the din was getting almost as bad as the argument had been, so Lisa switched off the radio. She sat on the end of the bed and watched the television without really seeing what was on the screen.
Lisa could just about make out her father bellowing at her to turn the volume down, but she ignored him.
"You guys quit screaming at each other, and I'll turn the TV down," she muttered.
It was some time before the shouting died away. Lisa sighed with relief, and turned down the volume to a reasonable level. The credits were rolling on a mindless game show, and soon the picture was replaced by the local news.
"Good morning, Raccoon City! I'm Laurence Raglan, and you're watching the 9 o'clock news," the newsreader announced. "A mysterious new disease has claimed the life of a local woman. Beatrice Wrigley, aged 42, was being treated at the old Raccoon Hospital for an infected wound when she abruptly succumbed to the illness. She was bitten by a rat five days ago and immediately admitted to Raccoon City General Hospital for treatment. She was later discharged and sent home. Two days later Mrs Wrigley was readmitted after complaining of headaches, nausea, vomiting, the compulsive desire to eat and drink, and chronic itching. Her symptoms worsened yesterday, and doctors noticed a degree of mental degeneration, with the patient seeming confused and unaware of her surroundings. Despite doctors' best efforts to treat her, Mrs Wrigley slipped into a coma and died last night. She leaves a husband, Rodney, and no children.
An autopsy revealed the presence of an unknown virus in the patient's bloodstream, and doctors are unable to say whether it is treatable. Medication previously administered had no visible effect, and it is feared that the virus may be both fatal and incurable.
Six more patients were later admitted to Raccoon City General Hospital with the same illness, and their condition has been described as critical. Anyone suffering from these symptoms should call 911 and seek immediate medical treatment."
Lisa stared at the screen, unable to believe what she'd just seen. Beatrice Wrigley was dead? But just a few days before she had seemed perfectly healthy! How could this have happened?
Lisa switched off the television and ran downstairs to the kitchen.
"Mom, Dad, it said on the news that Mrs Wrigley's dead!" she exclaimed.
Her mother, who was in the middle of making coffee, looked up sharply.
"What?" she gasped. "She's – she's dead? When?"
"Last night," said Lisa.
"It's on the news?" said Lisa's father, frowning. "Honey, we'd better get to work right away."
"Work? It's Sunday!" said Lisa indignantly. "The only day I ever get to see my brilliant hardworking scientist parents who're too busy to talk to me during the week, and now you've got to go into work today too? Call them and tell them to go to hell! Today's our day, you know that! You can't go into work!"
"Sorry, honey, we've got to," said her mother, pushing the coffee cups aside and grabbing her coat from one of the coat-pegs on the wall.
"But Mom - " Lisa protested.
"But nothing, Lisa. This is really important," said her mother, pulling on her coat. "Honey, where are the car keys?"
"Right here," said Lisa's father, handing them to his wife.
"Please, don't go!" Lisa begged, grabbing her father's hand. "Come on, Dad, forget work just for one day, huh? Stay here and keep me company! I hardly ever see you guys any more!"
"Lisa, we have to go," said her father, annoyed, and snatched his hand away. "I'd love to stay, but this is important."
"Yes, it's important. It always is, isn't it? Work's always more important than me," said Lisa bitterly. "It's never the other way around."
"There's no need for that," said her father crossly.
"Yes there is!" Lisa burst out. "I'm stuck in this house all on my own, with nobody to talk to, and you'll be back – when?"
"Eleven, I hope," said her mother. "But maybe not until tomorrow morning."
"You're kidding, right?" said Lisa incredulously. "Tomorrow morning?"
"If it comes to that, yes," her mother replied. "I'm sorry, Lisa, but we have to do something about this. It's the only way – we have to get to the labs and continue our research, or we're in big trouble. The work might take until late tonight or even until tomorrow morning. But I promise we'll be back before six-thirty tomorrow."
"That sucks," said Lisa sulkily.
"I know," sighed her mother. "But that's the way it is. See you later, Lisa."
"Yes," said Lisa, scowling. "Much, much, much later."
Her mother ignored this last comment, and kissed her daughter on the cheek.
"Bye, sweetheart."
"Bye, Mom. See you whenever."
"Come on, Liz, we're going to be late!" Lisa's father called from the doorway.
"All right, I'm coming," Lisa's mother sighed.
With that, her parents left the house. Lisa ran after them, and flung open the front door.
"Am I still grounded?" Lisa called after them, but they didn't hear her; they got into the car and drove away.
"I'll take that as a "no" then, huh?" said Lisa to herself.
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Lisa was already halfway to downtown Raccoon City when she realised she didn't have the faintest idea where Jack might be today. He could be at home, or at Marco's apartment, or in church – did he go to church? – or at the local skate park, or somewhere else entirely.
She decided to start at Marco's, since she was only half a block away from Wells and Hinterland. Antonio answered the door, with a girlfriend in tow, and told Lisa that Jack wasn't there.
Next Lisa tried Jack's apartment. His aunt answered the door, and after several minutes of not being understood, Lisa finally managed to get an answer – namely, that Jack wasn't there, that his aunt didn't know where he was, and that she didn't know when he'd be back. Lisa thanked her, and left.
"Where could he be?" Lisa wondered aloud as she crossed the street. "Hmm. I wonder if he's at the skate park?"
She was halfway across when a taxi roared into view, swerving wildly as it tore up the street. It was heading straight for her, at least twice as fast as it should have been travelling, and there was no squeal of brakes, or even the frantic beep of a horn – it suddenly struck Lisa that whoever was driving had no intention of stopping any time soon.
It's going to hit you! Move! screamed Lisa's brain, but her body was rooted to the spot with terror. She couldn't move at all.
I'm going to die, she thought. It's going to hit me, and I'm going to die…
But then she felt someone grab her around the waist and pull her out of harm's way, just in time – through her confusion Lisa was vaguely aware of someone swearing furiously, and the taxi screeching to a halt.
"You coulda killed her, estupido! The hell you doin', drivin' so fast anyway?" shouted her rescuer.
The taxi driver stared blankly at the person who'd saved Lisa from certain death, and scratched his neck.
"Itchy. Go hospital," said the driver in a peculiar monotone.
"Yeah, you go hospital," said Lisa's rescuer savagely. "The one that put patients in white canvas jackets! Idiot! If I no be here, Lise be goin' to hospital too!"
"Go hospital?" said the driver slowly. "Yes. Itchy. Hungry. Go now."
The taxi zoomed off again in a cloud of exhaust fumes, and Lisa looked up to see who had saved her – it was Jack. He was panting hard from his sudden exertion, and he glared at the departing taxi as if it had just insulted his mother.
"Jack?" said Lisa.
He looked down, and his expression softened.
"Hey," he said gently, kneeling next to her on the sidewalk. "You okay, Lise? Hell, you scare me half to death!"
"Sorry," said Lisa. "He just came out of nowhere. I really thought he was going to hit me. Thanks, Jack. You saved my life."
"Dunt scare me like that 'gain, right?" said Jack, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Man, you nearly give me a heart attack. Be more careful, Lise! We got some loco taxi drivers in downtown, they drive like lunatics. You gotta watch youself round here."
"Point taken," said Lisa. "Now let's get out of here."
"Where we goin'?" Jack asked her.
"I was looking for you, actually," said Lisa, smiling.
"Well, you find me," laughed Jack. "But I thought you still be grounded?"
"Technically I am," said Lisa. "But my parents are at work all day and my babysitter's dead. It was on the news this morning, did you hear about it?"
"Yeah," said Jack. "The mystery virus. Real weird, huh. Hey, that taxi driver guy say he be itchy an' hungry, like they say on the news! You reckon he got the virus too?"
"Wouldn't surprise me," said Lisa. "Come on, Jack, let's go to the skate park or something."
"Sure," said Jack good-naturedly. "Hey, Batman show me a new trick yesterday! You wanna see it?"
"You bet!" said Lisa. "Lead the way, Jack."
They turned the corner and headed in the direction of Raccoon City Skate Park – keeping an eye out for taxi drivers.