Sarah Adams sat curled up in her hospital bed watching the news on TV. She was feeling much better and wanted to leave, but the doctors from the CDC refused to let her go. They ran test after test, but all of them were inconclusive. Inconclusive! Sarah was so tired of hearing that phrase she wanted to scream. As the only known survivor of the pathogen, she was a living and breathing medical mystery. Everyone else who had come into contact with the virus had either died or been completely unfazed. She alone was the only one who had been infected and survived.
Tired of the constant needle sticks and multiple exams by different doctors, Sarah was now refusing to cooperate. After much discussion, the authorities had decided to post a guard outside the door to her room to prevent her from leaving the hospital. The government had taken legal custody of her by enforcing an obscure law giving the state the right to quarantine a person for medical reasons if they believed she was a threat to the well-being of the community. Some in the medical community referred to it as the “Typhoid Mary Law”.
Sarah was furious. As thankful as she was to all the talented medical people who had saved her life, hospitals in general creeped her out, and she wanted nothing more than to be home in her own bed with a cup of hot tea and a good book. Afraid of what might come next, her eyes darted back and forth to the door. How dare they keep her here against her will! The authorities were even preventing her own family from visiting her.
Looking up at the wall-mounted TV above her head, Sarah saw a female newsperson talking to the camera. Slowly rising from her bed, Sarah crept to her window and peered down at the street below. It was full of large white vans with satellite dishes aimed at the heavens, and a small crowd had gathered around police barriers set up around the front of the building. Climbing back into bed, Sarah grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.
“According to our sources, the sole survivor of the virus is inside this hospital.” The camera panned away from the news woman to show the outside of the hospital.
Sarah let out a gasp.
“Hospital officials here have refused to release the name of the patient, but sources have informed us that she is a young woman in her twenties who hails from Long Island.”
Sarah sat up in the bed. They were talking about her! She was on the news, national news, and soon, word of her identity was bound to get out. Things were spinning out of control. Not only was she a prisoner, but she was now at the center of a huge news story that was about to propel her picture onto every TV screen and newspaper in America.
If only she could call Daniel. He must be frantic by now.
The sound of a metal cart rolling down the hallway and stopping outside her door caused her heart to race. She waited for the door to open but nothing happened. God only knows what they are planning to do to me next, she thought to herself. She had become a specimen-a specimen that, unlike a poor lab rat, was totally aware that she was about to be probed and prodded again against her will in the name of science. There was no way they were going to release her now. This was insane! She had to get out!
She watched a bird circle outside her window and land on the ledge before pecking at the glass and flying away again. If only it was that easy for her.
Sarah jumped when, without a knock, the door to her room suddenly opened.
Stepping from the shadow of the doorway, she saw a short, dark-haired man wearing a white lab coat. Without hesitating, he pushed a wheelchair up next to her bed.
“Sarah Adams?”
Sarah stared at the man defiantly and refused to answer.
The man tried to smile. “You need to come with me. Do you need any help getting into the wheelchair?”
“I’m not going anywhere for any more tests. I’ve already told every doctor and nurse who’s come into this room that I want to go home.”
The man moved toward the bed while looking over his shoulder. Turning around, he brought his face level with hers. His attempt at a smile had been abandoned. “I’ve been sent to take you out of here … out of the hospital.”
“Are you one of those creeps from the CDC? I overheard two of their doctors talking in the hall this morning. They were talking about taking me to some kind of special lab at a military base on the outskirts of Washington. They called it Sam Rid … or something like that.”
“USAMRID. It’s an acronym for the army’s biological warfare center. Believe me, you don’t want to go there.”
“Who are you?”
“If it’s any consolation, I can tell you that I’m definitely not a soldier, my dear. I’m from the Vatican. Now, we must hurry, because the guard outside your door who just left to answer a phone call from his headquarters will be back very soon when he discovers there is no such call.”