Desolate The Complete Trilogy

4



Five Days Earlier

Hospital Regional Rio Grande

City of Rio Grande

Tierra del Fuego Province

Argentina



Jose Morales rose from the bench and tossed the remains of his tepid cup of coffee into the trash bin. Two tall men walked down the hall toward him. One white, one black, both dressed in dark blue suits. In the small city of Rio Grande, they stuck out like two sore American thumbs. They could only be the two US Marshals he had been ordered to meet at the hospital.

As they approached and made eye contact, he nodded and held out his hand. “I’m Inspector Morales.”

The white one shook his hand with too firm of a grip. “Deputy Marshal Briggs,” he said. Briggs nodded at his partner. “This is Deputy Marshal Jones.”

“Welcome,” said Morales as he shook hands with Jones. “I trust you’re here about our guest of honor?”

“That’s correct, inspector,” replied Briggs. “May we see him?”

“I’ll get you as close as I can. This way.”

They followed Morales out of the lobby and passed two uniformed officers before stopping at a door littered with caution signs. They took turns looking through the window at the sleeping patient in the room.

“That’s your boy,” said Morales. “This is as close as we can get without suiting up in one of those space suits. Wouldn’t do much good anyway. He’s been unconscious since they arrived.”

Jones removed a notepad from his breast pocket and flipped through the pages. “According to the officer I spoke with on the phone, they brought him in by helicopter and identified him by first name only. Howard. They claimed he was a prisoner from the International Experimental Rehabilitation Facility on Desolate Island.”

Morales nodded in agreement.

“The only Howard from the prison records is Howard Bell. That’s got to be him,” Briggs added, nodding toward the window.

Jones looked at the list of names written down in his notes. “Ronald Baker, Lisa Hammond, and Elizabeth Clark. All American citizens. Are they still in town? We’ll need to get statements from them.”

A look of confusion flashed across the inspector’s face.

“Problem?” asked Briggs.

“Forgive me, I thought you already knew,” stammered Morales. “They’re all dead.”

“What?”

“That’s why your fugitive is in isolation. Everyone who flew in on that helicopter got sick shortly after arrival. The first one to go was the Clark woman.”

Jones looked at his notes again. “She was the one who claimed this man was accompanied by another inmate who killed her husband. She said Bell received his injuries by fighting off some sort of wild animal?”

Morales chuckled. “Alien. She said it was an alien. She was pretty sick when we interviewed her. Running a fever. Probably didn’t know what she was talking about.”

“The others didn’t verify her story?”

“The dead husband, sure, but this alien was destroyed in a toolshed fire. It burned to the ground and the others weren’t there at the time. They said the guy that killed her husband was pretty messed up though. Whatever burned to death in that shed apparently killed him first.”

Briggs dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “We’ll let the Federal Bureau of Prisons worry about what happened on the island. All we’re concerned with is securing the prisoner.”

Before Morales could respond, the doors at the end of the hall flew open and a group of people dressed in bright yellow HAZMAT suits rushed in. Some of them were carrying assault rifles.

“Gentlemen, you need to leave this area immediately and come with us,” one of them commanded with a muffled voice behind his face mask.

“What in the hell is going on?” Briggs asked.

He grabbed Briggs by the arm and attempted to pull him toward the door. “United States Army. You need to follow us, sir!”

Briggs ripped his arm away and flashed his ID. “Hold on, damn it! We’re US Marshals, and we’re not going anywhere until I get some answers.”

“Sir,” said one of the men as he pushed his way forward through the soldiers. “I’m Dr. Michael Schmidt from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta. This entire hospital has been shut down and quarantined. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in the building until further notice. We’re authorized to lock down this hospital by any means necessary. Do we need to have you surrender your weapons or will you cooperate?”

Briggs and Jones looked at each other. Morales performed a sign of the cross.