“We’re here to speak with the hub manager about some strange packages.”
The buzzer went off and the two men entered the old metal building. It looked to be about the size of a normal warehouse but had definitely seen better days. In spite of the way it looked, the inside was warm and people were moving around, buzzing like bees in a hive.
“You said you had suspicious packages?” asked a man.
“Not suspicious exactly, but possibly dangerous,” said Luke. The man stared at him, looking both men up and down.
“Listen, mister, I got a million packages coming through here every year to folks that don’t even have mailing addresses. I see a lot of strange shit, so you’re going to have to be a little more clear about these possibly dangerous, maybe suspicious packages.”
“I’m sure you’ve noticed the number of people in the area getting sick with this strange flu or virus.” The man nodded at him, suddenly more attentive. “How many people do you have that handle the packages at their end point? The point at which they are placed on the trucks.”
“One.”
“One?” frowned Hex. “How can one man handle that?”
“He’s the best,” chuckled the man. “Harmon Blanchet. He’s been here almost forty years now. Best employee I have. But he hasn’t been sick.”
“Nothing?” asked Luke.
“Well, he’s had something going on with his allergies these last few weeks but he never took any time off. Didn’t need to.”
“Sir, my name is Luke Robicheaux and this is Hex Vernon. We’re helping the medical center to track down the first patient that may have contracted the virus.”
“But I just told you, he hasn’t been out sick,” said the manager.
“I don’t think that matters. My wife is one of the nurses at the clinic and she said the first patients often are the ones who survive for some strange reason. Is Mr. Blanchet here today?”
“No. In fact, he’s off for the next week. This is the time of year that Harm goes out to his cabin and just does whatever he does. Hunts. Fishes. Sleeps. I’m not sure.”
“Where is the cabin?” asked Hex.
“Not sure,” he said again shrugging. “I’ve never been out there and he’s pretty damn protective of his privacy. Let me ask some of the boys if they know anything about the location.”
They followed the man from station to station, asking if they knew where Harmon’s cabin was located. No one had ever actually been. They described what they knew of it, but that could fit hundreds of shacks and cabins in the bayou.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t be more help. His phone is shut off, which is normal for him as well. What should I do here?”
“According to our medical team, the entire place needs to be sterilized. Get your cleaning crew in here with gloves, gowns, masks, and the works. Scrubb the floors, the equipment, the conveyors, all of it. Anything that anyone touches should be sanitized.”
“Well, it explains an awful lot,” said the man. “I’ve had probably a dozen of my thirty folks out sick and they were all on this side of the building and that right there is Harm’s station.”
“And the drivers?” asked Hex.
“The drivers are from various carriers. Big ones, postal service, private couriers, all of it. But yeah, I’ve heard a lot of the drivers were out sick as well. Damn.” Luke nodded at him.
“Damn, indeed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“We’re pretty sure he’s patient zero. His boss said he’s been sick on and off at work but never sick enough to go home. Sniffles, sneezing, coughing, that sort of thing but refused to leave. He’s apparently a one-man show, sort of the last person to touch the boxes.”
“Well, that makes sense,” said Layla. “He’s touching the boxes, the drivers touch the boxes, and the patients touch the boxes. What I can’t wrap my head around is how this virus is surviving on the boxes. Most viruses would be dead within four to eight hours. Usually less time. This must be something pretty powerful.”
“We have to find this man, Luke,” said Kennedy.
“I don’t know how,” he said shaking his head. “No one has any idea where that damn cabin is. We’re searching property records but you know how that is. He could have inherited the cabin or just bought for cash from a friend and never changed the name.” Ambry stuck her head in the room and nodded toward Layla.
“Layla? I have another patient. Old man, seventy-three. Just drove himself in on his boat from out in the bayou.”
