The COVID Chronicles — Episode 1
Yellow
Chapter 1
Frank wheeled the white AT&T service van into Chet’s party store at the corner of Van Horn and Telegraph. It was mid-morning and the thirty-two-ounce speedway coffee Frank was drinking most of the morning needed to come out. The glorious life of being an AT&T line tech didn’t have many creature comforts like working in an office environment. There wasn’t any free coffee and donuts in the corporate breakroom, or having a favorite stall in the professionally cleaned office restroom. Frank didn’t mind though. As a line tech he received his work orders at the morning team meeting. For efficiency the work orders were generally grouped and assigned based on a common city area. So, depending on where most of the orders were, Frank could work anywhere in Southeast Michigan. One day he could be in Riverview, the next day in downtown Detroit, or like today out in the rural Flat Rock area. This also meant Frank wasn’t cooped up in an office with some asshole manager breathing down his neck. Instead Frank was able to go at his own pace. Somedays that pace was slower than others.
Frank opened the door of the AT&T service van and stepped out in the cool April air. The coolness of the air made the coffee want to exit his bladder much quicker so Frank decided he better hurry inside. The party store entrance chime rang as Frank moved quickly towards the sign which proclaimed in bold letters ‘RESTROOM — Employees ONLY’.
From behind the counter Frank heard “Hey, new wave Frank!”. The nickname New Wave Frank came from an ’80s era Garbage Pail kids card Ahmed had seen. The card had depicted a chubby Garbage Pail kid in a leather jacket spray painting a wall.
Frank replied, “Yo! What’s going on, Ahmed?”.
In a low voice sounding like a bad Cheech Marin impersonation Ahmed replied “SOS man”.
Frank chuckled and stepped into the restroom. After getting rid of the last bit of his morning coffee, Frank stepped to the sink to see a new sign taped to the mirror. Written in big bold letters at the top the sign stated “COVID 19”. It seemed like every place Frank went there was one of those COVID 19 signs reminding everyone about washing their hands and proper social distancing techniques. He dried his hands and hip bumped the door open. “How’s business with the whole quarantine thing going on?”, Frank asked as he emerged from the restroom. The entire state of Michigan and most of the US was quarantined due to COVID 19 pandemic and many businesses were struggling.
“It’s been pretty busy”, Ahmed said. “I am selling the hell out of liquor and beer, plus I sold all out on all of my chips and toilet paper. I think this virus makes people want to get drunk, eat snacks, and wipe.” With that Ahmed laughed at his own musing. Frank laughed along with Ahmed as he strode to the soda cooler to pull out a large Mountain Dew. “I saw your Dad the other day. He stopped in and was just browsing. He looked a little upset. I think he wanted to talk but wouldn’t really say anything to me.” Ahmed said in a more serious tone. Frank grew up less than 5 miles from Chet’s party store and had known Ahmed for over 30 years. Ahmed had worked for the original owner Chet, as a teenager and later purchased the store from him. During their teenage years Frank and Ahmed had developed a solid friendship which usually involved hanging out on the weekends, partying, and picking up girls.
“Your Dad mentioned he hadn’t talked to you in a while” Ahmed said.
“Dude, come on! He knows I am running around busy as hell since I am an ‘essential worker’” Frank replied.
“You work for the phone company man. Use your phone” Ahmed urged.
“Whatever!” Frank groaned. Knowing Ahmed was right and that it was just a bullshit excuse.
Frank was just avoiding the call. It had been several weeks since Frank had spoken with his father due to an unusually heated argument about Frank’s oldest son. Normally Frank was a pretty laid-back guy and was able to let the fatherly advice roll off of his back, but this time was different. Frank had just learned his oldest boy; Mike was dropping out of college to go live in a van in Seattle with his girlfriend. Frank was furious when Mike told him that he needed to find himself. After a heated exchange with Mike, Frank did the only thing he could think of, which was to go talk with his Dad. Frank drove over to his parents’ house and was shocked when, as he was describing the situation to his father, his father told him it was his fault. Frank lost it and start yelling at his Dad and stormed out. Frank had never really done this with his Dad before. He was lost as to what to do next. He wanted to apologize, but he was still stung by the words his Dad said.
“You suck dude” Frank said as he walked up to the counter. “I’ll call him”.
Frank put the Mountain Dew on the counter along with a package of Hostess Ho-hos. “Give me a pack of Newport’s in the box” Frank said. “That’s a killer lunch, you tryin’ out for the diabetes Olympic team?” Ahmed asked as he pulled the pack from the overhead dispenser and placed it on the counter. Frank gave Ahmed a middle finger and paid for his stuff. “Later homie” Frank said as he stepped out into the cool April air. Frank pulled out his cellphone and navigated to his Dad’s number. He hit ‘call’ as he stepped into the van.
Frank listened to the line as it started to ring. On the third ring a deep voice on the other end answered “Hello?”. Frank’s Dad, Frank Sr, always answered his phone this way, regardless of what was displayed on the front of the cellphone. Frank Sr. still thought of phones like someone from the 1970s had used them. You picked up the phone, dialed a home number and anyone could answer, regardless of what the display said. Frank Sr.’s view of cellphones was driven home because his wife might answer, as he frequently left it inside when he went to tinker in the garage or his pole barn. The idea of the phone being a personal device wasn’t cemented in his mind the way it was for millennials.
“Yo, Dad” Frank responded. “How are…” Frank started to say before Frank Sr. cut him off.
“I’m sorry about what I said, son” Frank Sr. said. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I was just as upset as you were and I just reacted.”
Frank was stunned. His Dad had just apologized. Frank couldn’t think of a time before when his Dad apologized to him. “Thanks Dad. I am sorry too” Frank blurted.
A few moments of awkward silenced passed by and Frank Sr. spoke “You know this whole COVID-19 thing is crazy. I just read an article I think you should read. You remember your elementary school buddy Paul Novacek?”
“Yeah” Frank said
“Well, he died yesterday from COVID” Frank Sr. stated. “Seems he was a paramedic-firefighter and he contracted it from running around out there helping folks. The funny thing is the picture with the article made him look strong and healthy. The article confirmed the picture, he didn’t have any underlying issues and was supposedly healthy as a horse.”
Frank was in shock. He remembered his buddy Paul from elementary school, the red headed boy who was always smiling and laughing, and like Frank always pulling pranks. It’s why they became such close friends. Their grade school shenanigans at St. Stephens catholic school in New Boston township had resulted in a few detentions for each of them. Frank hadn’t seen or heard from Paul in years, how many 25? 30? Paul had become a pretty serious guy by 8th grade and was already finding his path in life. Paul liked helping people and talked about being a fireman.
“Send me the article Dad” Frank said. “I need to read it”. They continued to talk about various family updates.
As they were saying their goodbyes Frank Sr. said “Son, please be careful out there”
Frank acknowledged him with a “Will do Dad” and hung up. About 30 seconds later his phone buzzed with a new text message from his Dad. The message contained the article his Dad had promised to send. The article headline stated ‘Long-time Huron Township paramedic dies from COVID-19 at age 52’. Frank sat in the AT&T van staring down at the picture of Paul on his phone for what seemed to be an eternity. A loud honk startled Frank out of his trance. Shit, he thought, I need to get over to the New Boston Office for that circuit install or my ass will be in trouble with Randy. Randy, Frank’s boss, was a fairly easy-going guy as far as bosses go, but he could be a real pain if any of the line techs were a little too slow. Frank wheeled the van out of Chet’s and onto Van Horn road heading west.
Chapter 2
Frank pulled the van into the AT&T Huron Township central office parking lot. The parking lot, small even by Huron Township standards, was completely vacant. Frank drove the van around to the side of the building away from the road. Frank knew if he parked out front some numb nut would inevitably come knocking on the front door wanting to discuss their AT&T bill. Today Frank was in no mood to be his normal charismatic, best customer service self. Frank swiped his badge over the card reader on the side door and the door made an audible clicking sound. Frank pulled the door handle and went inside.
Frank used his badge two more times to get into the MDF (Main Distribution Frame) where all of the wiring was housed. Frank checked his order and got to work. Frank was nearly finished with his install when he noticed the last cable pair he needed was missing. “SHIT” he muttered to himself. He should have traced it all the way out beforehand. Now he was going to have to start over or climb the pole out back. Frank weighed each option before deciding the quickest option was to just climb the pole and finish what he had already started.
Frank opened the rear doors to his van and started putting on his gear. He made sure to use all of the AT&T safety standards. Frank did this for a couple of reasons. First, he wasn’t particularly fond of heights and the thought of becoming a safety training statistic didn’t appeal to him. Second, AT&T did not mess around with their associates who failed to follow safety protocol. The guys from the line tech team would jokingly say ‘AT&Ts policy is if you fall off of the pole you are fired before you hit the ground’.
Frank got to the top of the tower and noticed something strange. Next to the panel he needed was a brand-new box labeled ‘5G’. Several thick blue cables ran upwards connecting to a dish. Frank was confused, the internal memo stated 5G wasn’t going to be available in Southeast Michigan until September 2020. Frank opened the panel he needed and began searching for his connection when he started to hear a low hum. Frank looked like a confused puppy cocking his head from one side and then to another as the hum grew louder and louder. Frank’s mind started to numb and he thought he could taste the color yellow. Frank’s grip on the pole began to loosen as the hum intensified and then he let go to the rhythm of the hum. Frank was falling in his yellow dream. He could hear in the distance the wonderful sound of wings flapping.
Frank’s safety cord caught and held him in place preventing him from becoming a stain on the pavement. Frank didn’t budge, his mind was trapped in the yellow dream listening to the wonderful flapping wings.
Fifteen minutes went by before the 5G hum stopped. Frank groggily woke from his trance to the taste of his own blood. He had smashed his nose pretty good on the pole and blood was streaming from his nose both down the front of his face and into the back of his throat. Frank began to realize he was no longer holding onto the pegs and was instead dangling by his safety cord. In a panic Frank grabbed for the pegs and hoisted himself up on his own feet. What the hell just happened? Frank thought. He was shakily holding himself onto the pole when he noticed several stinging pains in his neck. Using his left-hand Frank reached up to feel his neck where the pain was coming from. Frank almost fell again when he felt some furry little lump on his neck and realized it wasn’t part of him, it was something feeding off of him. Frank started beating and flapping his arms wildly causing him to slip again slamming his face back into the pole. Frank quickly hoisted himself back onto the pegs, unlatched his safety cord and did his best Fireman impersonation sliding down the pole as fast as he could. Once on the ground Frank clawed at his neck painfully prying off the little furry creature. In an instant he recognized that he was holding a bat. A fucking bat for shit-sake! In the middle of the afternoon no less. Frank tore off another bat, then another. ‘What the ever-living hell is going on?’ he thought as he threw them to the ground and stomped them with his heavy work boots. In all there were five smashed bat corpses on the ground. Frank looked up to see about 10 more bats fluttering about the 5G panel.
In his dazed state Frank decided he didn’t want to find out if the rest of the bats wanted a drink from the fountain of Frank, so he hoofed it over to the back of the open AT&T van and got in. Frank slammed the rear doors shut in the panel van making the inside go almost completely dark. Frank crawled on all fours to the front of the van where he found his cellphone. The time on his phone read 1:45 PM. Again, Frank thought “Why the hell are there bats out in broad daylight and why the hell did they bite me?” Frank remembered how as a kid he and his cousin would wait for dusk and then throw rocks in the air and watch the bats follow the rocks down to the ground. This was April and early afternoon; bats weren’t supposed to be out yet. Besides the bats in Southeast Michigan only ate insects, they didn’t bite people. ‘Shit, do I have rabies’ Frank thought as the yellow wave came into his mind. Frank’s stomach retched and he vomited onto the passenger seat. Out came greenish-black goop made up of Mountain Dew and ho-hos. Frank’s stomach retched again; this time harder than the first. Frank could see little dots in front of his eyes right before he passed out.
Frank awoke to an awful feeling coming from his bowels. He got a bit of adrenaline as he realized he needed to go number two and he was still in the company van. Frank popped open the side van door took one step towards the office door, realized his badge was in the back of the van, decided based on the urgency of his bowels he wasn’t going to make it to the office restroom. His choices were either to drop trough next to a nearby tree or shit his pants. Frank chose the former.
Woozily Frank stood up and made his way back to the van. Frank reached in and grabbed his cellphone from the floor of the van. The time read 4:35 PM. Frank could see he had several missed calls. The late afternoon sun was hot and making him feel uncomfortable, so Frank hoisted himself inside the van intending to call his boss Randy. Frank closed the side door when he felt another yellow wave coming. ‘No’ he thought, ‘please no’. Frank passed out again.
Chapter 3
George Drake slid out from behind the police cruiser driver seat in one quick motion. George was a big man at six foot three, two hundred and eighty-five pounds and many a young punk had mistaken his size for someone being slow. George had been an all-state defensive end in high school and played two years of college football before blowing out his knee at the end of his sophomore year. George made good on his promise to his Grandma and got his degree in political science which he used to get hired by the hometown police force. 15 years done and another 15 until he could retire. George was in the sweet spot now, though. He had already made captain and only the chief outranked him.
George looked over at the new recruit, Rachel Stanton as she popped out of the passenger side. Rachel was a medium height woman at five foot six. George knew from her police bio that she weighed one hundred sixty-one pounds. George figured she was muscled under all of her gear because he would have guessed her at one hundred thirty pounds tops. Normally George didn’t have to do the babysitting of new recruits but the pandemic had zipped right through the Huron Township police department and over half of the department was under quarantine. They were running a skeleton crew and had to have everyone work extra hours just to keep the shifts covered. “You like chicken?” George asked as they walked to the front door of McNasty’s saloon.
“Yep” Rachel said, having enough common sense to agree with the boss when you were a rookie, especially over food. “We getting take-out boss?” Rachel asked.
“What do I look like rook, a heathen?” George asked as he rapped two big knuckles on the front door.
Rachel didn’t mind being called Rook. She felt like it represented all of the hard work she put into getting this job. She understood men generally found her attractive and would give a pass for things she hadn’t earned. The first time this happened was her sophomore year of high school when her science teacher, Mr. Jones gave her an A+ on the mid-term test. When she was showing off her A+ to her buddy Pete, he saw a couple of mistakes. Pete said “Figures. You got the same two wrong on your test but didn’t get marked down. Wish I had tits”. Rachel saw red, at first at Pete for saying this to her, then at Mr. Jones for giving her something she didn’t earn. She stormed back into Mr. Jones’ class and demanded he change her grade. So, Rachel was just fine with the boss man calling her rook, she had earned her spot.
A skinny middle-aged man in a white cooking apron opened the door and screeched “Come on in Cap’n, got your favorite spot ready, right next to the window”.
“Thanks Chuck” George happily replied. George gave a sly grin to Rachel. A grin that said it’s good to know folks.
George and Rachel were almost finished with their chicken dinners when Roberta came over the radio asking for George. “George you there?” Roberta asked.
“I’m here Berta, what’s up?” George asked in a sleepy ‘I just ate a whole chicken’ kind of voice.
“I received a call from a Randy Jarvice in Lincoln Park regarding a missing AT&T technician” Roberta said
George interrupted “Berta, we’re in Huron Township. That’s a long ways from Lincoln Park”
“I know Georgie” Berta said causing Rachel to involuntarily giggle and drawing a cross look from George. “The technician was assigned jobs in Huron Township for today and he hasn’t reported in. Mr. Jarvice was hoping you could maybe look at few of his stops. He said it wasn’t like his guys to not report in.”
Well this was going to fuck up his happy chicken dinner George thought. “Alright send me the details. We’ll take a look.”
George and Rachel paid their bills and headed back to the cruiser. The April night was getting chilly. George really wished he was home watching jeopardy with his wife right now.
George tossed the keys to Rachel “You’re up Rook” as he opened up the passenger door. Rachel was thrilled that she was finally being allowed to drive.
Chapter 4
The third and final yellow wave happened while Frank was passed out in the van. This wave was different, this one made him feel better. This wave was pulling him from his sleep, he could clearly hear the birds chirping and the wind blowing through the just sprouting foliage. Frank could distinguish the different smells in the van. A smell of old oily tools, the smell of musty dried beverages spilled and not cleaned up all the way, the smell of oil from the engine, and of course the Mountain Dew & Ho-hos vomit.
As Frank opened his eyes, he was surprised at how well he could see inside the van. He understood it was night outside but he could see clearly. Frank look around the interior and could see the slight defects of the interior paint, each stitch of fabric in the seats of the van, even the slight rust on the bolts holding down the supply rack in the back of the van.
Frank sat up and looked to see his cellphone laying between the driver and passenger seats. The time read 7:32 PM, it was dusk outside. Frank should have reported in to Randy over two hours ago. He could see the icon on the front of the phone indicating missed calls (12), voicemails, and texts. Frank normally would have been in panic mode; hell, he should have been in full panic mode for missing those calls and not checking in. But there was something there, something yellow, keeping Frank calm inside. Frank was no longer on the same level as before, he understood he was more, all of the arthritis pains in his knees, muscle aches in his arms, and the stiffness in his fingers were gone. Frank felt like he was seventeen again. There was something else he couldn’t quite figure out yet. Something hiding behind the yellow.
Frank heard the vehicle well before the two orbs of light filled the van. Frank could see the small red and blue lights in the front of the grill and thought should I be able to see those police strobes? The side high beam light flicked on and lit up the interior of the van. Frank could hear a young woman radioing in to the police station “Dispatch, we have located the AT&T truck. We see someone sitting inside”.
Frank had the thought that this woman, a woman he could easily see despite the high beam directly in his eyes, this cute little girl’s name was Rachel. Frank watched as a big man clicked open the passenger door and easily slid out. Frank watched this man like a mongoose would watch a cobra. Frank could sense every muscle movement and hear his breath. The yellow inside Frank was starting to hum.
George and Rachel were both out of the cruiser flashlights up and hands on their pistols. George was happy to see Rachel following protocol. About two feet from the front of the van the rancid smell of Frank’s bowel cleanse from earlier hit Rachel first. At first Rachel thought did someone shit themselves, then the full aroma hit her, a smell so strong she gave up her chicken dinner. George was about to chastise Rachel when the full smell hit him. He gagged and held it back, just barely. George signaled for Rachel to stop; he wasn’t sure if this is what COVID smelled like but he didn’t want to find out. “Hey buddy, you OK in there?” George asked
Frank was looking directly at George and promptly gave George a big comical ‘thumbs up’. ‘Christ’ George thought, ‘I think this guy is looney’. “Can you do me a favor and step out of the van?” George asked
Frank gave a half nod and opened the panel van side door and stepped out with his hands up.
“You hurt?” George asked pointing to the dried blood on Frank’s face. This guy looked ridiculous George thought. He’s supposed to be 52 but he looks 20 tops and his clothes are about 4 sizes too big on him.
The yellow hum inside of Frank was going full pitch. Frank started whispering in Rachel’s direction. Rachel’s head cocked from side to side like a little puppy trying to understand what its owner was telling them.
“What’s he saying to you Rook?” George asked. Rachel didn’t respond to George, instead she kept tilting her head side to side. “Rachel…. RACHEL” George shouted with no luck. George had to do something and decided to bulrush the looney son of bitch. George took off quick and straight at Frank like a defensive end with a straight shot at a quarterback, full speed. At the last second Frank half turned and caught the full weight of George easily in his arms bringing George to a dead stop in what an onlooker would have thought was a comical bear hug. In another quick motion Frank bit deep into George’s neck and sucked half of George’s blood out.
George’s actions were enough of an interruption for Rachel to snap out of Frank’s trance. She understood that the AT&T guy was biting George’s neck and she needed to stop him. Rachel’s training at the academy kicked in, she pulled her weapon, stepped to her left for a better shot, and fired at Frank’s side. Frank let out a howl and fell backwards, releasing George who quickly slumped to the ground.
Rachel followed her training and went over to Frank to ensure he was neutralized. As she approached Frank appeared to be lifeless. As she was bending down to check Frank kicked her hard in the stomach. Thankfully her bullet proof vest absorbed most of the blow, but the kick sent her sprawling backwards causing her to trip and fall over her boss.
Frank jumped up and took off running towards the nearby metro park.
Rachel began barking into her radio “Officer down, repeat Officer DOWN”
