The Melt

By Ann Werner

Members of the last tribe of reindeer herders discover a body in the melting permafrost of the northern Mongolian steppe, and the virus dubbed the Red Scourge is unleashed on the world. Unaware of the coming pandemic, Rina and Ethan Hampton shop for their first house in Silver Spring, Maryland, a suburb of Washington D.C. After months of searching, they find the perfect place to start their family, with the added bonus of a bomb shelter that Ethan plans to use as his man cave. Their excitement quickly turns to fear when news of the fast-spreading virus and the havoc it is wreaking around the world becomes public. As the news continues to pour in, the couple realizes the virus is unstoppable. They quickly make provision to survive the plague by locking themselves in the shelter. When they emerge after two months of living in the cramped space, ninety-five percent of the world's population is gone. Their neighborhood lies in ruins, destroyed by a massive storm. Body bags filled with the dead are stacked in the parking lots of local hospitals. All around them, unknown dangers lurk, but the worst danger unexpectedly appears, adding to the trauma they've already experienced.

Where do you go when your world comes to an end?

The sequel, The Augurs, is available for purchase.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ann Werner
• Release date: Jun 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005611439

Ann Werner

A woman always in search of experience, Ann Werner has sampled a wide range of occupations: waitress, radio advertising sales, copywriter, voiceover work, cemetery plot sales (she thought it was a dead-end job), event coordinator, packaging design, and wine consultant, to name just a few. She also worked as a professional actor, best known for her portrayal of Eliana, maid to the evil Dimera family on the NBC daytime drama Days of Our Lives. An avid reader, she always had a passion for writing and released her first novel THE PEOPLE NEXT DOOR in 2000. Since then she has been busy on her other projects, which include two non-fiction books she compiled with daughter and business partner, Kimberley A. Johnson: THE VIRGIN DIARIES and AIN'T NO SUNSHINE: MEN REVEAL THE PAIN OF HEARTBREAK. In the past several years, Ann also penned three other novels: DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES, CRAZY and COOPER'S GROVE as well as two short stories: THE CHEMTRAIL CONSPIRACY and A VIEW FROM THE MEADOW. Her most recent novel, THE MELT (Book One of the After the Apocalypse), includes the first two chapters of Book Two of the series in her upcoming release, THE AUGURS. She is busy at work on her next novel.

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The Melt

Ann Werner

The Melt

All Rights Reserved © 2020 by Ann Werner

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Ann Werner

For information, contact Ann Werner at [e-mail]

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

Cover design by Bob Cesca

Earth painting by Jonny Lindner

Published in the United States of America

Part One

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Part Two

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Afterword

The Augurs sneak peak

PART ONE

The Red Scourge

1

Northern Mongolian Steppe

The wolves were hungry. Much of their territory had changed, and the prey that had once been plentiful was now sparse. The leader of the pack lifted his snout and sniffed the unusually warm October air, searching for the scent of food. Cocking his head, he detected something and inhaled again. It was a foreign scent but held the aroma of something that would assuage the hunger of the pack.

Slowly, the leader followed the scent, the pack on his heels. The smell became stronger and some whimpered, the sound mingling with the growling of their empty stomachs. As the aroma strengthened the wolves sped up, hurried along by the prospect of a full belly.

The leader stopped, a low growl emanating from deep within him. He looked from side to side, surveying the grassy plain to make certain no competition would make a sudden appearance and battle over the right to the food. The surrounding land was empty of all other creatures, and only the mountains in the far distance broke the monotony of the vast Mongolian steppe. He started forward once more; the smell grew stronger as he advanced.

And there it was! A partially defrosted human face stared sightlessly at the clear blue sky overhead, oblivious to the ravenous wolves that dug into the softened earth to get at their feast. Most of the prey was buried, and had the permafrost not been melting during the short but very warm summer, it would never have attracted the attention of the pack.

~~

Sanjin sat atop his reindeer and motioned for the other riders to surround the small herd. They moved slowly to avoid spooking the animals. It was the last roundup of the season before the bitter cold of winter set in and Sanjin wanted to make certain nothing went wrong. The weather was uncommonly warm for early October, but he knew a winter storm could blow in without warning. He wanted the herd to be well on its way before that happened.

It had been a hard season, one of an increasing number of hard seasons for the remnants of a dying culture. The state had once provided funding to keep the old traditions of the reindeer herders alive. But since the fall of the Soviet Union, Mongolia lacked the resources to provide for the Dukhan people and their herds. Without that help, the day-to-day life of the Dukha had become difficult. Reindeer milk, yoghurt and cheese were the staples of the Dukha diet and provided for nearly all of the needs of the village of less than three hundred people. The animals were only occasionally slaughtered for their meat or their coats. The encroachment of gold and mineral mining operations coupled with clear-cutting forests was slowly destroying the reindeer habitat. That destruction portended the end of a way of life that had flourished for over three thousand years.

Sanjin signaled to Khulan and Tömörbaatar to begin the charge and they were off, followed by the younger men who assisted the seasoned herders in their task. Startled by the sudden noise of pounding hooves, shouts, and whistles, the herd scattered, only to be met by riders mounted upon reindeer at every turn. Within minutes, the herders steered the animals towards their winter quarters near the Dukhan encampment. In a few days, they would be home once again, and following their return to the village, they would hunt for meat. Sanjin looked forward to settling in the warmth of his yurt and enjoying a fine meal prepared by his wife, Altansarnai. They had been together for many years and he counted himself a fortunate man to have found such a wife. Her name meant golden rose and he thought it described her perfectly.

A shout interrupted Sanjin’s ruminations.

Sanjin! Sanjin! The tone of Tömörbaatar’s voice indicated there was something wrong. Sanjin! There is a body. Or what’s left of one.

Sanjin turned to the young man to his right. Ganbataar, take my place while I see what Tömörbaatar has found. Be certain you don’t allow any of the herd to escape.

The young man nodded and beamed with pride. It was an honor to be entrusted to take Sanjin’s place.

Sanjin rode towards Tömörbaatar. A body?

Yes, Sanjin. It looks like the wolves have been at it and it’s difficult to tell, but it looks like a man.

I haven’t heard of anyone going missing. Who could it be? And what was he doing here? Sanjin asked.

Tömörbaatar only shook his head and led Sanjin to where the body rested.

Sanjin dismounted and leaned over to inspect the corpse. A shred of what had been the man’s clothing poked out from the permafrost. He fingered the fabric; it was faded and rent asunder by the wolves, but it still felt soft to the touch; softer than any fabric Sanjin had experienced.

This is a strange kind of cloth, he mused. So soft, even after being buried for … I don’t know how long.

Most of the body is still frozen. Even the wolves couldn’t pry it loose.

How did a man come to be buried here? This isn’t a burial ground.

It’s a mystery, Tömörbaatar said. What should we do?

Sanjin thought for a moment. He had never dealt with a situation like this and without consulting the shaman, he was uncertain how to proceed. The thought of leaving the body to rot on the plain didn’t sit well with him. He thought if he did so, the spirits of the man’s ancestors might haunt him. But he had no tools to dig the remains out of the frost-hardened earth.

Fetch Tarkhan and have him help you cover the body with rocks so the wolves won’t get at it again. I’ll stand watch until you return. Once you’ve completed your task, catch up with us. I’ll tell the shaman when we return to camp. He’ll decide what to do.

Tömörbaatar nodded his agreement. He admired Sanjin’s presence of mind. It removed the burden of decision from him and for that, he was grateful.

~~

Upon arriving at the encampment, Sanjin rode straight to the shaman’s yurt. The old man was outside, working on a new horsehide drum.

Naranbaatar, please pardon my intrusion, but I seek your wisdom.

The old man looked up at Sanjin and smiled. You’re not intruding. How did the round-up go?

There was an incident.

Tell me more. He gestured for Sanjin to sit. I hope no one was injured.

Sanjin sat across from the shaman and shook his head. No, all are fine. But Tömörbaatar discovered a body that was partially unearthed by wolves. Much of the head was gone, but most of the body was still lodged in the ice. It’s the body of a man, or at least we think so. It was hard to tell because the face was … Sanjin stopped, the grisly memory making him uneasy.

Where was the body found?

On the plains on our way back from the summer grazing site. It’s not a burial site. We’ve passed that way many times before.

The shaman gazed off into the distance for a moment, then turned back to Sanjin. That is strange. Have you any idea who it might be?

No. I think the body has been there for a long time.

What makes you think that?

You know our summers have been hotter in the past years and how the glaciers have retreated.

The shaman nodded.

I believe the melting of the ice and frost-hardened earth partially exposed the body. I didn’t see much of it, but the color of the skin was very pale. Not like ours. I touched a piece of cloth that was unearthed by the wolves. It was very soft and nothing like I’ve ever encountered.

For a long moment, Naranbaatar considered the information; then he turned back to Sanjin. If what you believe is true, then I must alert the proper authorities. You may have found an ancient man. I’ve heard of such things. But you say the wolves had been at him? If the ground is still soft, they may return and do more damage.

I instructed Tömörbaatar and Tarkhan to pile rocks on the corpse to prevent that. I wasn’t sure what to do, but decided the herd takes precedence.

The shaman nodded. Go home to your wife. I’ll alert you when I hear back from the authorities.

~~

Although the Duhka lived primitively, certain modern conveniences were available to them, compliments of the Totem Peoples Project. Those conveniences included solar panels to provide enough electricity to power a ham radio that could be used in case of emergency. The panels adorned the outside of the shaman’s yurt and were connected to the radio inside.

Naranbaatar lost no time in calling the authorities. Two days later, a team of anthropologists and scientists arrived in two helicopters at the camp and were led to the body by Sanjin and Tömörbaatar. When they were done, a large, oblong hole resembling a newly dug grave was left on the face of the plain. The body was safely encased in a container to prevent further thawing until the team could get it to a lab and discern who the mystery man was and where he had come from.

Before they left, Tömörbaatar asked if he could hitch a ride to the capital city of Ulaanbataar and they agreed. It was an exciting prospect that would cut days off an arduous journey that required a two-day off-road trek through the steppe, then an hour-long flight from the tiny city of Murun to the capital, where Tömörbaatar had relatives. That part of his family had abandoned the harsh, nomadic life on the steppe years before. Though he couldn’t understand how anyone could enjoy life in a place choked with people, vehicles and all the attendant problems of city life, he still tried to spend time with them as often as he could. It had been two years since his last visit. This visit he would have quite a story to tell!

~~

Four days later

Sanjin awoke bathed in sweat. His head felt as if it were about to explode and his breath came in harsh gasps. He hadn’t felt well before retiring and thought he had caught a cold. But this didn’t feel like a normal cold. This was terrible: the worst he’d ever felt, even worse than the time he’d fallen prey to pneumonia and nearly died.

He tried to sit up, but a searing chest pain knocked him back on his hide mattress, pinning him to his bed. His tongue felt like leather: dry and hard from breathing through his mouth. He tried to swallow, but the dryness in his mouth and the absence of saliva made it feel as though his throat were closing. A chill wracked his body as he reached over and shook his wife.

Altansarnai, wake up! His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

Slowly, she climbed out of a deep sleep. Yes, Sanjin, what is it?

I’m not well. Please, I need water.

Coming fully awake at the raspy sound of her husband’s voice, she threw off the covers, got up and went to area of the yurt where the provisions were kept. In the dim light from the banked fire, she poured water from the large plastic jug Sanjin had brought back from his last trip to the city into a cup and brought it back to him. She went to hand it to him, but he was unable to grasp it.

Alarmed, Altansarnai raised his head, propped it on her lap and put the cup to his lips. She let the water trickle slowly into his mouth, careful not to let any of the precious fluid fall onto the bedding. Only a few drops made their way into Sanjin’s mouth before he started to choke. Quickly, she withdrew the cup and with great effort, turned him on his side. She remembered how terrible the pneumonia had been and how the doctors had cautioned against allowing inhaled fluids to infiltrate the lungs.

The choking became worse and Altansarnai pounded Sanjin’s back to dislodge whatever was causing the problem. After a moment, the choking stopped and there was only the sound of his labored breathing.

She ran her hand over his forehead. He was burning up and the rank odor of sickness rose in waves from his body. I’m going to get the shaman.

Sanjin made a strangled sound that could have been the word yes.

Quickly, she wrapped a hide around her to ward off the cold and stepped out into the predawn. Above her, the moon was full and the stars shone like diamonds on a sea of black sky. She ran on the frost-hardened earth to the shaman’s yurt. Outside, she stopped and knelt before the entry flap.

Naranbaatar! Naranbaatar! Please, wake up! It’s Altansarnai. My husband is in distress!

There was no answer and again she called, more insistently. Naranbaatar! Please! Sanjin is very ill! You must come!

From within the shaman’s yurt, there came an answer. I’m coming. I’m old and this cold makes my bones move slowly. Patience!

Altansarnai was nearly crazed with concern for her husband, and although it took the shaman only a minute to emerge, it felt like a hundred years. Please! Hurry!

The two made their way back to Sanjin’s yurt. Quickly, she threw back the flap and ushered the shaman inside.

Stoke the fire so I can see, Naranbaatar ordered.

Altansarnai hurried to the fire and poked a stick in it, moving the logs and letting more air into the pile. The flames rose and illuminated the interior of the yurt. She turned back to her husband and stopped in shock. Sanjin’s dead eyes stared up at the night sky through the smoke hole at the top of the yurt. His mouth was open wide and frozen in the attempt to get air into his lungs, the pain of his last moments evident on his face. A trickle of blood traced its way down his chin and onto the bedding, and strange, red markings covered his face.

Sanjin! she screamed and raced to his side. Sobbing, she fell to her knees beside her husband.

He’s gone, Naranbaatar said. When did he fall ill?

He said he felt like he was coming down with a cold when we went to bed, but it was only a cold!

Suddenly there was a cry from across the camp. Another voice shouted for the shaman.

With a grunt, the old man got to his feet. He looked at Altansarnai, who sat weeping at the side of her dead husband. The cry came again. He touched Altansarnai’s shoulder. I will return, he said and hurried out into the night.

~~

The following days brought the deaths of several of the herders, all of whom had interacted with Sanjin, Tömörbaatar and Tarkhan. Each of them displayed the same set of symptoms. Each of them died choking, unable to get air into their lungs. Each had the same frozen facial features, the trickle of blood, and the strange rash that covered their entire bodies.

Greatly disturbed by the death of the herders and fearing the rest of the encampment was at risk, Naranbaatar hurried to his yurt to call the authorities in Ulaanbataar. He only hoped it wasn’t too late to save the rest of his people. He wasn’t sure, but suspected the disease had something to do with the remains of the body found on the plains.

Fear churning in his gut, Naranbaatar raised the authorities in the far-off city and requested assistance. After speaking to the man on the other end of the line, he sat back and prayed to the gods that help would arrive in time.

~~

Centers for Disease Control, Washington D.C.

Dr. Anthony Carmichael looked forward to getting away for a long weekend on the Chesapeake Bay. But before that happened, he had to clear the stack of paperwork on his desk and attend three meetings, one of which he distinctly wished he could miss.

It was eight o’clock in the morning and the day stretched interminably in front of him.

His intercom buzzed.

Yes?

Sir, a Doctor Singh from Mongolia is calling.

Put him through.

He picked up the call from his old friend on the first ring. Faraj! Good to hear from you. How’s the family?

The family is fine, Tony, but this isn’t a social call. There’s been a viral outbreak in Mongolia. It’s wiped out an entire village and is threatening the capital city of Ulaanbaatar. People are dying at an alarming rate.

Wait. An entire village?

Yes. A small village of about three hundred reindeer herders.

All of them?

Yes. And it’s spreading quickly throughout the capital city.

Have you isolated the virus?

No. That’s why I’m calling. I’ll send you the full report. But please, we need help now, before this thing gets out of control.

~~

Carmichael immediately contacted his superiors at the CDC in Atlanta. The news went up the chain of command, finally landing on the president’s desk. It was decided to dispatch a team to Ulaanbaatar to combat the mystery virus and to procure samples for study at the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases and the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases. A directive was issued that travel in and out of Mongolia would be limited until the nature of the virus could be determined.

Carmichael looking longingly at the photograph of him sitting in the captain’s chair of his cabin cruiser. He ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. So much for his weekend on the Chesapeake.

~~

USAMRIID Fort Detrick, Frederick, Maryland

Colonel William Myers, commander of the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases immediately contacted Dr. Carmichael to find out the particulars of the outbreak.

This looks to be something on the order of Spanish Influenza, Carmichael informed him. Some similar symptoms, but there are also hemorrhagic elements similar to Ebola.

When can you get a sample to us?

We’re assembling a team now. Have your best epidemiologist packed, ready to go and at the airport by 1800 hours. I want the samples back stateside no later than the day after tomorrow.

Any ideas of what we may be dealing with?

According to Dr. Singh, a village of reindeer herders has been wiped out and the disease is spreading rapidly throughout the Mongolian capital city. Looks like incubation is six to seven days. The time of symptom onset to death is hours.

Transmission mode?

That’s the worst of it. Preliminaries indicate airborne.

Myers let out a long sigh. Okay. I’ll have a crew ready once we’ve got a specimen in-house.

It was already too late.

2

Silver Spring, Maryland

Rina and Ethan Hampton had been house hunting for months. Everything was either too large, too small, in bad shape, or didn’t have what Ethan referred to as must haves. What had started out as a fun search had become a daunting task. They were on the way to meet Sylvia Sullivan, their real estate agent, who had promised this house was the ONE!

You know, she says that every time, Ethan said.

Rina laughed. I know. One of these times it’ll be true.

I hope so. I’m sick of looking.

Me too.

I really liked that bungalow in College Park, Ethan said.

I did too. But it had all those trees shading the roof. No way solar panels would work there unless we chopped them down.

Ethan nodded. And there was no garage. Gotta have an attached garage.

Yeah. No way am I hauling groceries in during a thunderstorm and risk getting hit by lightning. Not to mention slipping on ice in the winter.

Born and raised in Southern California, Rina was still adjusting to Maryland weather. She and Ethan met when he worked as a cameraman at a local network affiliate in Los Angeles. Both were covering an AIDs benefit when they saw each other from across the room. They still joked about their Romeo and Juliet beginning. Married for three years, they’d been back in Ethan’s native Maryland for the past two after Ethan got a job offer to cover the White House for World News Network. It was a big step up and they were ready to begin a new phase in their lives by starting a family. Rina was tall and blonde, the ultimate California girl. Ethan was tall and dark, his Italian heritage on his mother’s side very much in evidence. They often wondered what their children would look like and were excited about the prospect of becoming parents.

You know, this would be a great location, Ethan said. It’s just a hop, skip, and a jump from the District by the Metro.

That’s a plus. Hey look! There’s a Metro station entrance.

Ethan glanced at the GPS on his smartphone mounted on the dashboard. Looks like it’s walking distance from the house.

He made a turn at the corner, then another turn and drove a couple of blocks until they saw Sylvia standing in front of her car, talking on her cell phone.

Okay, here we go, he said as he parked the car. Let’s hope this is it.

Rina opened the door. Hi, Sylvia!

The agent quickly ended her call and strode towards the couple. Hello! I tell you, Rina and Ethan, this is the one.

Seeing their smiles and barely concealed giggles, she smiled ruefully. Okay, I know I always say that, but this time I mean it! This house has everything on your checklist: an attached two-car garage, great solar potential, three bedrooms, two baths, a fireplace, not one but two large closets in the master bedroom, and a big kitchen. The kitchen could use updating, but it’s in good shape and the appliances are good. She paused for a beat and wore a sly smile. And I’ve got a surprise that’s going to wow you.

Well, let’s go look! Rina said, her interest piqued.

A brick facade graced the two-story house. A cozy covered front porch overlooked a yard awash with autumn leaves in wait of a rake. Cutback shrubs lined the front of the yard, waiting for spring to bring them back to life.

Gleaming hardwood floors greeted them when Sylvia opened the door to the vacant house.

The previous owner installed these floors just before he was transferred to Chicago.

They’re beautiful! Ethan said.

Rina looked on with approval. Nice size room. And I love the fireplace. It’s gas, isn’t it?

Yes, Sylvia said. No worries about cleaning up all the ashes.

Not to mention the fire hazard and having to get the chimney cleaned, Ethan added.

As they walked through the house, both Ethan and Rina felt the tingle of excitement. This place could be the one. As Sylvia had cautioned, the kitchen needed some updating, but nothing that couldn’t be put off for a while. The second and third bedrooms were on the small side, but one of them would serve as a guest room and in time, a nursery; the other was a perfect office for Rina, who worked from home as a freelance writer.

Well, so far, so good, Ethan said. But what about my man cave? Is the basement finished? Or will I have to do that?

No. That’s the surprise.

Sylvia led the two of them back into the kitchen and down the stairs into the basement.

Okay, Ethan said. This looks like an unfinished basement.

Ah, but there’s more here than meets the eye! Sylvia pushed on a shelving unit that took up half of the back wall. The unit moved smoothly on a well-maintained track to reveal a hidden door. Opening the door, the agent flicked on a light just inside the entrance. Voila! Welcome to your man cave!

Rina and Ethan glanced at each other and entered the space. As they crossed the threshold, Rina was suddenly gripped with a cold foreboding. A vision of destruction flashed through her mind, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She shook her head to clear it and banish the dark fantasy.

What is this? Ethan asked.

A bomb shelter.

~~

Still feeling unnerved by the strange sensation, Rina pushed it aside and discounted it as the result of an overactive imagination. Standing in the center of the front room of the shelter, she looked around. This is amazing!

There’s a nominal kitchen and a full bathroom, Sylvia said. The previous owners upgraded the electrical and air filtration systems when they bought the place. They ran air conditioning ducts and cable lines in here as well. Although, being underground, it stays pretty cool in here, even on the hottest days.

This is great! Ethan enthused.

The shelter runs the entire length of the back yard. There’s also a generator room in the back, the agent continued and motioned for the couple to follow her. At the rear of the shelter, she turned on a light to illuminate a small room large enough to accommodate a generator and fuel. It has sound dampening insulation and vents to the outside, so if for any reason you decide to put a generator in here, you don’t have to worry about the noise, not to mention fumes, although I doubt you’ll need it.

Ethan nodded. This would be the perfect place to store the instruments for the guys in the band. Especially Pete. Then he wouldn’t have to lug his drum set back and forth every time we rehearse.

They exited the room and walked back toward the front of the shelter.

Ethan’s excitement brimmed over. This would be ideal for band rehearsals. We can close the door and you’ll never even know we’re here, no matter how loud we play.

We could put a microwave down here, Rina said, his enthusiasm infecting her. There’s a niche over there with an electrical outlet that would be perfect.

Aw man! Ethan’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. We can hook up a computer and the television. We don’t even have to renovate the basement. This is man cave ready! We just have to furnish it.

Rina walked over to the shelving affixed to the side wall. You know, since we don’t have to renovate the basement, maybe we can tear this out and put cabinets in instead. That way we can stock up on all your favorite snacks and keep them down here. You won’t have to carry stuff down from the kitchen.

Now I know why I love you. Good idea! Ethan winked at her.

We can get an inexpensive refrigerator, so you’ll have all your beer handy as well. And once we start our family, this will be terrific for guest quarters.

Smiling, Sylvia looked at the couple. So, is the one?

Rina and Ethan looked at each other and then at the agent.

I think it is, Ethan said.

I know it is! Rina agreed.

Well, let’s write up the offer!

Ethan took a last look at the shelter and mumbled to himself. Hmm. Maybe we could put in an intercom system. I wonder if a cell phone would work down here. If not, we’ll install a phone jack too.

~~

One month later

"Kitchen’s