October 27, 2050– It’s been exactly a month since the fracturing, and as strange as it may sound, I’m beginning to think of all this as normal. We’ve managed to get through those first few terrible days, and have scrounged what supplies we could from the urgent care facilities in the area. Maintenance has fixed the problems with the solar generator and we’ve been in continuous contact with a hospital in Seattle. As luck would have it, they have a Reppare Biologic epidemiologists onsite. They’ve had better luck with communications than us, and have had intermittent contact with others. It’s the same everywhere. Power grids and water supplies have been destroyed worldwide. Combined with the accompanying fires, widespread radiation, and severe weather effects caused by the accident, billions have died across the globe. As hard as it is to believe, we may be among the luckiest.
November 2, 2050– Had a young girl come in this morning with purple spots all over her body and an extremely high fever. We had a few patients with similar spots during the chaos last month, but haven’t seen anything like it since. All those patients died so I’m worried about her prognosis. I’m moving her to a different floor just in case it is contagious.
November 3, 2050– One of the nurses who brought the girl upstairs yesterday found a purple spot on her neck this morning, and we’ve had three more patients come in today. I’ve decided to change course and bring her back down. Everyone who is able to be moved is being relocated throughout the hospital. We’ll do triage outside under the awning from now on. I’m not sure what we’re dealing with. Like before, the Reparre machines don’t seem to recognize the patient’s DNA as human. I’ve instructed the staff to wear protective gear when dealing with them. Haven’t heard back from the epidemiologists yet.
November 10, 2050– We’re calling it Ube Fever after the purple yam. Victim’s first present with dark violet spots, high fever, and delirium. The skin thickens, cracks, and eventually sloughs off. Those who are lucky, die of organ failure before the cracking gets too bad. Those that don’t, scream for days, or until their voices give out. It’s happening everywhere. All but two nurses who had contact with the little girl last week have caught it. The girl didn’t make it. We have over 20 patients in various stages of the disease in the emergency room. Seattle had its first victim yesterday. I’ve sent them all the data we’ve collected, but it isn’t much.
November 11, 2050– I had an idea last night. We’ve turned the Newuskin machines back on and are scanning patients and collecting data even when the machine says it’s corrupted. Maybe someone smarter than me will find it useful. We had some success with one of our patients who had been in recently for a melanoma removal. We still had her data on record and were able to replace her thickened skin, but she is still suffering from the other symptoms of the disease.
November 12, 2050– Seattle confirmed what I feared. They say it has spread as far away as London and Singapore. Before the fracture, there was a lot of talk about 127 affecting wildlife and changing DNA. The element is mutating the bacteria at such a frightening speed that I don’t know how we’re going to stay ahead of it. We’re down to 5 staff members including me, and the hospital is packed with screaming patients. It’s background noise to me now, like the sound of the waves when you’re on the beach. I don’t know what we’re going to do with the bodies.
November 14, 2050– The epidemiologist hasn’t had much luck. They’ve tried a number of treatments and protocols without success. He estimates that by the end of the week Ube Fever will have sent 400 million into backup. I sent him my findings using the Newuskin machines. I think that if we had complete system data of everyone we might be able to make some progress. I’ve started running complete scans of everyone, even the few of us who haven’t caught the disease, just in case. The non-recyclable portions of the bodies have started to pile up. We’ve had people truck them to the lava floes for disposal.
November 16, 2050– He’s modified the estimate to 600 million lost worlwide. We aren’t even sure how many people are left. The screams have quieted down. The quiet is a result of all the deaths and not anything I’ve done medically for these people. Yesterday was the first day we didn’t have a new patient come in. This thing is running out of people to infect.
November 25, 2050– I haven’t been able to contact Seattle in over a week. Only a few patients are still alive and even the ones who might pull through won’t be able to lead normal lives. I’m not sure why I was never infected when everyone else was. I’d gladly let someone more knowledgeable take blood, tissue, or whatever else they needed. I don’t know if the Nuuskin procedures I shared worked for anyone else. For all I know there isn’t anyone else. I hope that there are others spared from infection like me, but it’s been days since I’ve seen anyone else in good health. I’m afraid that In a little less than a month the Ube Fever has managed to finish what the fracture started. I’m not sure what I’ll do when the last of them passes and it’s just me. It may be Thanksgiving but I’m having a hard time thinking of anything to be thankful for.
