Lost Immunity by Daniel Kalla (free reads TXT) 📕

“We’ll obviously use the VAERS database so people can self-report,” Lisa says. “But we’re also setting up a twenty-four-hour hotline and a specific website along with an app for patients to directly report any issues with Neissovax.”

“An app? That’s your solution?”

“One of them.”

“This is premature.” Moyes shakes his head. “What does Angela think?”

Lisa takes a breath to run through her five-senses exercise—the sight of Moyes’s beard, the hum of the fluorescent lights, the pressure of her heels against her shoes, the scent of an alcohol-based cleaner, and the residual taste of the mint she sucked on prior to the meeting—before responding. “Angela is a valued member of this team. But I am the city’s chief public-health officer.”

His stare is frosty. “And the buck stops with you, does it?”

“Yes,” she says, trying to will away her creeping doubt. “In this case, it does.”

CHAPTER 19

Mason can’t stop shaking. Even when he bundles himself up in his favorite Mariners jacket. But nothing is going to stop him from going to the ballpark this afternoon. He has been looking forward to it for weeks. Ever since his Little League team lost their final playoff game.

Mason was the last batter in that game, and he grounded out. He hid his tears well, but he felt so responsible for the loss that he couldn’t touch his pizza at the postgame meal. Coach Tony took him aside and let him in on the “surprise” that he had been saving for the team. Tony had gotten a box for Mason and all his eight-year-old teammates to attend a matinee Major League game. And the best part was the Mariners were going to play his other favorite team, the Red Sox.

Mason has been counting the days since. Even though his head aches, and he feels too queasy to even think about eating a hot dog at the game, he’s more determined than ever to go. If only he could stop trembling.

Mason knows that if his mom sees him like this, she won’t let him out of the house. So he digs his favorite winter sweater out of the bottom drawer and slips it on before wrapping himself back in his oversized Mariners’ jacket. He can’t believe he has to wear two layers in the summer just to keep warm, but he hopes it will do the trick. It will be so worth it once he’s in the box with the rest of his friends, watching his two favorite teams slug it out at T-Mobile Park. With all that batting power in the lineups, there will be some homers for sure.

Mason stays in his room as he long as he can, willing away the chills and waiting for Liam’s dad to pull up in front. Only when he hears the minivan roll up to the curb does he head downstairs.

His mom is waiting at the front door with a water bottle in one hand and a twenty-dollar bill in the other. “Mason, honey? You feeling all right?”

“I’m OK, Mom.”

“Baby, you don’t look so good.” She reaches for his forehead, but he arches away from her touch.

“You’ll mess my hat, Mom!”

“Mason…”

Grabbing the dangling bill from her hand, he squeezes past her and out the door. “There will be water and drinks at the game. Liam’s waiting for me.”

“Baby, I don’t think you should…”

Before she can say another word, Mason rushes out into the bright August sunshine. He should be boiling under all the clothing, but he feels as if he’s stepped into an ice rink. It’s all he can do to keep moving. To not wrap his jacket tighter and drop shaking to the ground.

His head pounds more with each step.

But there’s no way he’s going to miss this game.

CHAPTER 20

The first thing to catch Lisa’s eye is the armed security guards manning the doors. Aside from them, the open space resembles any other warehouse, down to the cement floors, bare walls, and a side-by-side set of metal roller doors for delivery access.

A forklift rumbles past her carrying a tower of boxes on its way to the pile already stacked in the center of the room. A faint whiff of lumber hangs in the air, though no wood is in sight, so Lisa assumes the previous tenants must have stored timber. The hum of fans draws her attention to the only other anomaly in the warehouse, a bank of refrigerators against the near wall. Fiona and Nathan stand beside them talking to three men in orange overalls. Nathan looks over and, recognizing Lisa, beckons her with a welcoming wave.

Lisa reciprocates the greeting, though she can’t help questioning the sincerity of his smile. Wearing another slim-fit navy suit along with a brown leather belt and matching oxfords, Nathan is the epitome of a rising corporate star. Lean and fit with sandy-brown hair, he has a Roman nose, strong chin, and a youthful face. In truth, she doesn’t know his actual age, but she assumes he must be well into his forties to occupy such a senior position at a major pharmaceutical company. He has been consistently respectful, professional, and, as best she can tell, forthright with her. And, yet, she doesn’t trust him. She can’t tell if she’s responding to her intuition or her natural bias against executives, especially those who work for pharmaceutical companies—an industry that schools its members on how to charm physicians.

The men in orange have dispersed by the time Lisa joins Nathan and Fiona beside a pile of boxes stacked in front of one of the refrigerators. After quick hellos, she says, “I didn’t expect you to show up with all the vaccine today.”

“Technically, we flew commercial while those were shipped charter.” Nathan motions to the boxes. “You did say you wanted them as soon as possible.”

“Not complaining. Not at all. Just surprised. And I certainly wasn’t expecting you to book the storage facilities.”

Fiona squints at her. “There’s no way we would entrust this to anyone