He hadn’t had time to think. He didn’t know. He didn’t speak the language, had no friends, no contacts, no money, no orders. He had basically been abandoned by the government there, after the infections started.
He didn’t even know about the virus at first. All he remembered was fragments of the lab – doctors, gas masks, hypos, pain – it was just supposed to be a check up! Then he ended up in Baghdad, dressed in clothes he’d never seen before. That’s when the aid worker showed up. Apparently he’d volunteered at the hospital.
It took weeks before he figured it out. The aid worker that had greeted him had been the first to go, the illness dismissed as just something floating around. Strange third world country, these things happened. Then everyone else in the outfit got it.
But not him. That’s when he noticed. Panicked, more like. Stole the money, passport and ended up in Nashville. The only person he knew has Anna and her family. He’d known what would happen, he though as he sobbed. He’d known. Now what?