Brian O'Grady - Hybrid

To Margaret; here’s a little sex.

Writing a novel obviously requires a great deal of time, and no matter how much I would want the world to simply stop and let me “finish this chapter,” it continues to spin on. The grass grows, the paint on the fence begins to peel, and children become young adults. Life is about balance; writing a novel is about indulging a burning desire that does not recognize balance. For all those who “picked up the slack” while I was locked in a room alone so no one would disturb my aura, I thank you for this great indulgence.

To Shannon, Brian, and Erin — the time I spent writing Hybrid was yours.

I would also like to apologize to all the people that I forced to read the various versions of my musings. I know some of you suffered in silence out of a sense of misguided loyalty, while others, Jerry, simply suffered.

I would especially like to thank Doug Burns, Christy Bates, and Dalice Lewis: it was your professionalism, talent, and humanity that created the success that gave me the opportunity to write Hybrid .

Of course I would like to thank my publisher, editor, critic, and guide: Lou Aronica. Despite the fact that you are a New York Yankees fan, an irredeemable character defect in most educated circles, I appreciate your patience, experience, and expertise, but mostly your foresight in creating a vehicle for others to succeed.

To my wife Margaret: without you, nothing has meaning.

From: a.flynn@home.com

Sent: March 5, 2012, 2015 MST

To: v.induction@cdc.org

Subject: Viral outbreak

Nathan A. Martin, M.D., Director of Special Pathogens, Centers for Disease Control, Atlanta, Georgia:

Dr. Martin, perhaps you remember me, Amanda Flynn; although it occurs to me that you may have “detained” so many people in your career that my name may only be a distant memory. It has been almost seven years since you and your staff held me against my will at the Tellis Medical facility on the pretext of treating me for a viral exposure that occurred in the jungles of Honduras. I was imprisoned for three months before the army released me over your objections. I don’t want to cloud the issue with what I know and with what you will deny; let me simply say that neither one of us behaved in an entirely forthright or ethical manner.

Despite the fact that even with the passage of time I can’t bring myself to trust you, events have forced me to take a calculated risk and contact you. I’m hoping that the health and welfare of the American public means more to you than pursuing me. Simply put, the virus that you tried to find in me, the one that killed hundreds in Honduras seven years ago, has reappeared in Colorado Springs.

I realize that taken at face value this is a fantastic statement and that your first inclination maybe to ignore it, but as the only survivor of this virus, I am in a unique position to make it.

A number of important and pertinent details were lost in the chaos that Honduras had become after Hurricane Michael. Perhaps you never knew that as a member of the American Red Cross I had a legitimate reason for being there. I was in charge of a team of specialists who were delivering supplies to a relief center in a coastal village about twenty kilometers south of Tela, Honduras. All communications with the town had been lost, and the only road in had been lost to the flooding. It was completely isolated from the outside world, and we had to be ferried in by helicopter. We were a group of fourteen: two Red Cross logistic supervisors, six nurses, two physicians, and four volunteers. A squad of soldiers had been assigned to protect us, but as it turned out, they weren’t needed. Everyone in the village was already dead. Some had died from a type of hemorrhagic fever, but most had died violently. We contacted the command center, but instead of evacuating us, they quarantined us. Ten days later, every soldier and every one in my group had died, except, of course, for me. When I was finally flown out, I tried to explain what had happened, not only to my group, but also to the Hondurans, but no one, including you, would listen. Your sole interest was the hemorrhagic fever. Of the thirty-one people who died in my group, only seven died as a direct result of infection, the rest died violently, and probably unnecessarily.

As of last Thursday, there have been no cases of hemorrhagic fever reported in Colorado, and the only reasonable explanation is that no one is looking for it. The Colorado Health Department is reporting an unusually high number of deaths from a particularly virulent form of the flu, and I believe that many of those cases are, in fact, related to the Honduran Virus.

There has also been an unprecedented spike in the rate of violent crime in Colorado Springs. In the past six weeks, there have been forty-two murders and suicides — that’s twenty-five times their average. This is not a simple statistical anomaly.

If you check, you will find that the Colorado Health Department and Colorado Bureau of Investigation have already started investigations, and not surprisingly, neither one has found anything. You need to help them make the connection; you need to tell them what happened seven years ago!

I can imagine how an unsolicited e-mail asking for an investigation into an obscure virus will be received, but as I see it, you are in my debt. I also want you to consider the source; no one else knows what really happened in Honduras. I’m not asking a lot. Do your job, and let the Colorado Health Department do theirs. I’m certain that the results will confirm what I’m telling you.

I’ve reviewed your biography on the Internet, and despite what you’ve done to me, I believe you can be motivated into doing the right thing. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to deal with this in my own way.

Amanda Flynn

* * *

Response: v.induction@cdc.org

Sent: March 7, 2012, 0554 EST

To: a.flynn@home.com

Ms. Flynn, I’m not sure how you got my personal e-mail address, but it has long been suspected that you were more than what you appeared. As far as remembering you, rest assured there are many who remember you well, myself included. I not only knew of your situation, I authorized your treatment. We actually met briefly, shortly after you arrived at Tellis Labs. I’m sure you don’t remember, as you required heavy sedation at the time.

I’m not in any way apologizing for what we did for you, and please note, I didn’t say “to” you. When you were flown out of the jungle, you were in severe shock from blood loss and exposure. Neither the U.S. government nor I had anything to do with your quarantine. When we learned of your plight, we evacuated you to the best facility in the world for such problems.

As far as what you think you witnessed before we arrived, you must realize that your impressions were heavily influenced by the infection that very nearly killed you. There was no evidence that anyone died because of anything other than the EDH1 virus.

As far as being indebted is concerned, I think I’ve shown that it is you who are indebted to us. So, I will rely upon your honor and ask that you allow us to re-examine you so that we can find out how you survived this universally fatal infection. I am sure you know that a number of people have been trying to find you for seven years.

Finally, I have contacted the Colorado Department of Health, and they have noted an unexplained rise in acts of violence. However, there is no evidence to suggest that an infectious agent is the cause. They assured me that they have specifically looked for one and have carefully reviewed all the autopsy results. I trust what they told me, and I don’t do that lightly. If it makes you feel any better, I will admit to having a deep institutional bias and a basic distrust of everyone outside of my little world, but in this situation, the CDH did their job. I’m sure there is an explanation for this worrisome cluster of violent crime, but it’s not EDH1.