Plague: A gripping suspense thriller about an incurable outbreak in Miami

There’s bubonic plague, which is when you have buboes or swellings in the groin and axilla. Then there’s pneumonic plague, when the bacilli are localized in the lungs – and septicemic plague, when the blood is infected.’
‘And you don’t know which one it is?’
‘I’m not sure that it’s any one of them. The way it looks right now, it could be a new strain of bacillus altogether. Some kind of super-plague.’
Dr. Petrie bit his lip. ‘Do we know where the boy picked it up? Isn’t it carried by fleas?’
Dr. Selmer sounded weary. ‘I talked to the parents, but they say he went out all day Sunday, and he could have been any place at all. He visited some friends, and then went swimming, and then he came home.’
‘How about the friends?’
‘Oh, we’re having them checked. The police are out now, tracking down the last of them. We’re taking this very seriously, Leonard. I believe we have to.’
‘Do you think he might have come into contact with an infected rat, or a squirrel?’
‘It’s possible,’ agreed Dr. Selmer. ‘They’ve had three or four outbreaks in California and Colorado recently, and it seems like a few people got bitten by fleas from infected ground squirrels. That might have happened here, but we can’t tell. The way it’s transmitted depends on what type of plague it is.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, bubonic plague is mostly carried by fleas which have bitten plague-ridden rodents, and then accidentally bite people. It isn’t a human disease at all, and humans only get caught up in the cycle by mistake. But that doesn’t make it any less fatal, and the trouble is that a flea which has been infected in October can still pass on plague the following March. What’s more, plague can spread to domestic rats and mice.’
Dr. Petrie frowned. ‘But can’t one person pass it straight on to another?’
‘With bubonic plague, that’s difficult,’ said Dr. Selmer. ‘It doesn’t spread easily from man to man.’
‘How about the other plagues? Surely pneumonic plague is catching?’
Dr. Selmer said, ‘Yes, it is. If you’re suffering from pneumonic plague, you only have to cough in someone’s face, and they’ll almost certainly catch it. It’s the sputum. Plague bacilli can stay alive in dried sputum for up to three months.’
‘Oh, God,’ said Dr. Petrie. ‘Listen – when will you get your final results?’
‘Two or three hours, the lab people say. As soon as I know for sure, I’ll warn City Hall and all the health people.’
Dr. Petrie nodded. ‘Okay, Anton. Keep me in touch, won’t you? And don’t forget to take some streptomycin yourself.’
‘Are you kidding? We’re walking around here in masks and gloves and flea-proof clothing. It’s going to have to be a pretty damned smart bacillus to get through to us.’
Dr. Petrie laid the phone down. Adelaide was looking at him anxiously. On the floor, Prickles was tucking her doll in for the night underneath the armchair, and singing her a lullaby in a small, high voice.
‘Did I hear you say plague?’ asked Adelaide.
‘That’s right. That boy I picked up this morning, the one who died. He was infected with some kind of mutated plague bacillus. They’re trying to pinpoint it now.’
‘Is it dangerous?’
Dr. Petrie went across and picked up his drink. He took a long, icy swallow of chilled white rum, and briefly closed his eyes.
‘All diseases are dangerous, if they’re not treated promptly and properly. I’ve taken a couple of shots of antibiotics myself, but I think you and Prickles ought to have the same. Plague will kill you if it’s left untreated, but these days it’s pretty much under control.’
‘Are you sure? I mean—’
Dr. Petrie shrugged. ‘I can’t be sure until the experts are sure. But I wasn’t close to that boy for very long, and the chances are that I probably haven’t caught it.’
Adelaide sat down. She watched Prickles playing for a while, and then said, ‘I just find it so hard to believe. I thought plague was one of those things they had in Europe, in the Middle Ages. It just seems so weird.’
Dr. Petrie sat on the arm of the settee opposite. Unconsciously, he felt he ought to keep his distance. There was something about the word Plague that made him think of infection and putrescence and teeming bacteria, and until he knew for certain he was clean and clear, he didn’t feel like breathing too closely in Adelaide’s direction.
He sipped his drink. ‘I was reading about it the other day, in a medical journal. We’ve had plague in America since the turn of the century. We’ve still got it – particularly in the west. They had to lift the ban on DDT not long ago, so that they could disinfect rats’ nests and ground squirrels’ burrows. Don’t look so worried. It’s just one of these things that sounds more frightening than it really is.’
Adelaide looked up, and gave him a twitchy smile. ‘Plague. The Black Death. Who’s frightened?’ she said softly.
Prickles was shaking her doll. ‘Dolly,’ she said crossly, ‘are you feeling giddy again?’
Dr. Petrie smiled. ‘Is dolly feeling sick, too?’ he asked. ‘Maybe she needs a good night’s sleep, like you.’
Prickles shook her head seriously. ‘Oh, no. Dolly’s not tired. Dolly doesn’t feel like going to bed yet. Dolly’s just feeling giddy.’
Dr. Petrie looked at his little daughter closely. Her hair was drawn back in a pony-tail, and her profile was just like his. When she grew up, and lost some of that six-year-old chubbiness, she would probably be pretty. Margaret, when he had first married her, had been one of the prettiest girls on the north beach.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘if dolly’s feeling giddy, perhaps dolly would like some nice streptomycin.’
Prickles frowned. ‘No, dolly doesn’t want any of that. Dolly doesn’t like it. She’s just feeling giddy, like Mommy.’
Dr. Petrie stared at Prickles intently. ‘What did you say?’ he asked her. He said it so sharply that she looked up at him with her mouth open, as if she’d done something wrong.
He knelt