Liz shouted. “I knew it! I knew it! Here we go, right under this lab table. These drawers have tools!” Laura rushed over and peered in the cabinet. There were heavy-duty tools lined up side by side.

Laura smiled. “Excellent work, Liz. There are three hammers. Let’s get to work.”

Both girls grabbed the tools and went over to the ventilation hole. Laura pushed aside the grating and felt the edges. “Hey,” she exclaimed. “These sides aren’t concrete. They’re metal.” She looked up at Liz. “If we can smash the sides apart far enough, we can enlarge the opening enough for us to make it into the other side.”

Liz kneeled down and pointed at the hole. “But the passageway would be too small.”

Laura shook her head. “No, look. See through the hole? The filtering system is much larger on the other side, possibly because of the filtering machinery to keep the flu virus from spreading in case there was a leak. The vent ductwork is large enough for us to make it through. In fact, we could both possibly crawl side by side once we get through this hole. Come on, let’s do some damage on this wall.”

With great gusto, both girls walloped and whacked away at the metal fringes of the vent hole, widening the entrance with each swing.

***

Across the ventilation system, on the other side of the underground compound, a man raised his head. Putting down his paperwork, he stood up and cocked one ear toward the far wall. He heard the distinct sound of hammering through the duct system. Curious, he walked over to the ventilation grating and pushed his ear to the meshwork. Did he hear the sound of girls talking as well?

He shook his head in disbelief. This changed things, and he couldn’t have any delays. Walking over to the desk, he picked up his pistol and checked the number of bullets he had.

***

A few more sharp strikes with the hammer, and the widening of the ventilation duct was complete. Laura crawled through the hole and scanned the ventilation shaft.

“I see some filtering screens about 15 feet ahead,” Laura called. She crawled toward the large mesh covering and gave it several sharp hits with the hammer. The filter fell backward, opening the way for further exploration.

“Come on,” Laura said. “Liz, this might be the way out.” Liz squeezed through the opening and nodded. “Let’s go,” she said. “I’m ready to get out of here.”

Laura and Liz crawled through the ventilation ducts side by side, looking around for a side duct that might lead them to an opening.

“Tell me about the Spanish flu tragedy in the United States,” Laura said as the two of them crawled forward through the ductwork. The process was slow; although, they had ample room to move, they couldn’t stand or crawl quickly. Metal rivets would cut their hands if they weren’t careful.

“Well, it’s like the notes I was reading to you. It had a horrible effect on the ones who were afflicted: high temperature, heavy fluid in the lungs, blue-black splotches on the skin,” Liz said. “However, as powerful as that imagery is, it’s nothing compared to the heroes of the flu epidemic.”

“Heroes? Who were the heroes?” Laura asked.

The two of them took a sharp right angle and continued on a long stretch of straight ventwork.

“The city of Philadelphia had a group of brave souls called the Society of Visiting Nurses,” Liz said. “When paranoia spread throughout the country, nobody would visit the sick. After all, their thinking was, Why should I endanger myself? You’re going to die anyway. But this Society of Nurses did an amazing thing. They stepped up and started caring for thousands of people in the city. Imagine this: Some were busy almost 24-7 taking care of sick people who couldn’t reach a hospital. Those nurses later wrote about the reality of entering houses where all members of a family were dead. Sometimes they would enter a house and children were literally starving because the parents had fallen ill. They took the risk of catching it themselves.”

Liz squinted to see if she could find the next bend in the ductwork. “And you would be amazed to learn that sometimes people would push them away, thinking they were too weird to be walking around the city in white gowns and masks. Can you believe that some people pushed away the very people that could save their lives?”

“Yeah, I can believe it, in a spiritual sense,” Laura said, leading Liz into a right-hand turn. “I actually remember a time when it happened to me.”

“Hey, more of your memory coming back. That’s great,” Liz said. “So, you were pushed away for telling someone about Jesus?”

“No, not really,” Laura replied. “I was the one who pushed someone else away.”

***

Kim stopped poking around the door and picked up the book she had carried in.

“What’s that?” Tracy asked as she checked electrical outlets under the tables.

“Oh, it’s a medical book of some kind,” Kim answered, sitting down on a stool. “I found it in the other room. It must’ve been some sort of a reference manual for the researchers in here. They probably needed to know about other sicknesses besides the Spanish influenza.”

She flipped casually though the pages, her eyes scanning the photos and side notes. There were even some handwritten comments in many of the margins. “This book has been well read,” she mumbled.

Tracy stopped and came over. “I think we know enough about the Spanish flu.”

“No, not that,” Kim said, running her finger along a page of notes. “Something else. Something that Laura said earlier about her house.”

Tracy shrugged. “She was kicked out. So what?”

“Think, Trace,” Kim said. “Don’t you think that it’s odd that Laura is the only one showing any symptoms of the flu? The rest of us are healthy as horses.”

“What are you getting at?” Tracy demanded.

Kim squinted at the small print. “Laura said the funny name of the stuff that made them get kicked out of their house. It was barbeen . . . no—Benzene,” Tracy said. “Funny word that stuck in my mind. I’ve heard it before. I did a science fair project on it years ago. It’s found in some products around the home, like lighter fluid, glues, kerosene, ink markers, pesticides and rubber cement. Stuff like that.”

“Hmmm. It’s not bad in small amounts,” Kim said, reading the notes in the book. “Benzene is dangerous when you get it in high levels. I overheard Laura tell Liz that when her house was condemned, it was because they found high traces of Benzene in the soil and water in and around her house. The house was built on a former landfill, and the old landfill wasn’t properly contained. She said they even found traces in the air.”

Kim looked up at Tracy. “Overexposure on all counts. She was drinking it, smelling it and walking in it. For a full month, no less.”

Tracy reached over and flipped the page. “So how bad is it? What could happen to her?”

Kim glanced down the page. “Ah, here we go. Listen to this: ‘Signs of Benzene poisoning include paleness of skin, shivering ...’ “

“She’s got both of those,” Tracy interrupted.

“ ’... dizziness, blurred vision, skin has small red dots, headaches.’ I don’t know if she has had those,” Kim said, furrowing her brow. She continued reading. “ ’Symptoms are very similar to the flu, and the symptoms may also include abnormal bleeding and weakness.’ “

She read silently and then looked up at Tracy. “ ’And in some extreme cases, the person can suffer severe memory loss.’ “

Tracy gasped.