Into the Inferno - Earl Emerson [69]
“You say it was only two weeks between the fire and when they came down with the symptoms? That makes me think we’re not talking about the same thing. It was longer up here.”
“Your guys are turning into zombies? Just layin’ there, nothing behind their eyes? Gotta feed ’em? White stuff on the backs of their hands?”
Rubbing one hand, I said, “How are your guys doing?”
“I hate to say it, but Vic is dead, and the other two are organ donors going to seed. Lost most of their weight. Their muscle tone. They got bedsores. The oldest is forty and looks like an embalming school has been using him for practice. They just started feeling sick, nothing earth-shattering, and then one day they either didn’t wake up or collapsed where they stood. Two of ’em are in nursing homes. The other one, Vic, died of a heart attack about six months ago. His wife had already divorced him so she could marry somebody else in the department. Tell me that wasn’t a scandal. I hope to Jesus cows are laying eggs and roosting in trees before anything like that happens to me.”
“Has there been an investigation?”
“Our mayor appointed a commission to study it, and the state’s working on it, too, but nothing’s happened. I think after our senator got into the mix, that’s when the investigation started going cow shit.”
“What makes you say that?”
“They decommissioned one of the groups studying it and then seeded the other one with people from the chemical industry. You know there’s politics in it when they actually put representatives from some of the companies we think caused it on the panel to investigate. After a year they put out a preliminary report which says basically diddly-squat. Then one of the guys on this eighteen-member commission has a heart attack and everything grinds to a halt while they spend four months scouring the countryside for a replacement. Four months!”
“Anybody narrowed down the cause?”
“Sure. Down to about, oh, twenty or thirty different companies. To about a hundred and fifty chemical agents, maybe ten thousand possible combinations. Southeast ships chemicals around the country. And every one of those companies wants to stall the investigation. There’s a million theories floating around out there, but nobody knows for sure. We got lawsuits out the yinyang. We lost three good men, and we should be moving heaven and earth to figure out why, not hiding behind attorneys.”
“Don’t you guys have a union?”
“Yeah, but the leadership is basically hanging our guys out to dry.”
“It doesn’t make sense. You’d think the city would want to find the cause. What if it happens again?”
“That’s just it. Everybody’s saying it could never happen again.”
“How can they know that if they haven’t pinned down the cause?”
“Thank you very much. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them. The commission has identified over a hundred and fifty chemical compounds got spilled or opened at that fire. You mix one chemical with another, and all of a sudden you’ve got a substance nobody knows nothin’ about. Truth is, we might never know what caused this.”
“Nobody else caught the syndrome? None of the freight company employees or the truck drivers?”
“Nobody. Which makes us think it was a gaseous compound. The smoke goes away, so does the hazard.”
“Or maybe some mixture of chemicals that doesn’t remain stable very long.”
“Coulda been.”
“Anybody catch it and then shake it?”
“Not that I know of. You sure you got this?”
“I’ve had four coworkers go down.”
“Like our guys?”
“Two are that way. Two are dead.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry, buddy. I really am. You got your family stuff in order and all that?”
“Some of it.”
“Far as I know nothing has ever changed with these guys, until one died from a heart attack. Vic was my best friend, so it’s not like I ain’t been keeping tabs. I’d like to say yes, they’re getting better, but the truth is, these guys are zombies and always will be.”
“God.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you warn me about an explosion?”
“I can’t talk about that, man. I mean, I really can’t. They’re watching me. In fact, I’m pretty