A vaccine is impossible..

Kevin says his face serious as he continues, "A cop named Jacob Blake, he is the highway officer. He knows a guy, Jack Thompson, who owns the Portside tavern Pub."

"Yeah, go on." Clark nods.

"He dropped by yesterday morning to inform him that the health authorities were coming to quarantine them. We dispatched the forces to pick up Jacob three hours ago, and he is currently en route to Sydney.

"This did not go well. What else?." Clark shook his head in dismay.

"In the meantime, he has been patrolling half of the port city. God knows how many people he has been in contact with."

"Oh shit," Clark said, his voice trembling with an appalling weakness. A sinking sensation started at the base of his spine and slowly crept up into his belly. 

Clark's mind raced with the terrifying implications of what Kevin had just said. 

"Ninety-nine percent communicability," he muttered, the gravity sinking in. 

"That means ninety-nine percent excess mortality because our bodies can't fight off this mutating virus. A vaccine will be almost impossible to create."

Kevin nodded solemnly. "Yeah, it's bad, Clark. And that's not all..."

Clark's heart sank further. "Go on, finish," he urged softly, dreading what was coming next.

"Patrick is dead," Kevin said quietly.

Clark closed his eyes, devastated. Patrick Manuel, his son-in-law. How was he going to break this news to Katherine? 

'I'm sorry, Kathy, my child,' he thought, anguish gripping his heart. 'Patrick must have been near that box.'

"Somebody messed up with that damn box," Kevin interjected, frustration evident. "They forgot to seal it properly where they keep those things. Just a small lapse."

Clark nodded, trying to absorb it all. "The box... from that medical lab in Portland? It was made there but was managed by those female workers who probably weren't paying attention when it got shipped to Adelaide."

Kevin nodded grimly. "Exactly. And Matt, over at the hospital department, saw the numbers turn red just in time to get out before the control room got sealed and triggered the alarm. He managed to get his family out just in time."

Clark frowned. "But why did it take so long for anyone to realise he was out? Are the monitors unreliable?"

Kevin shrugged. "He was busy. When he looked up he saw the gates shutting off! You can't trust the guardians to watch over everything. Matt was lucky to get out when he did."

"And the box ended up in Adelaide in their hospital basement where Matt was working?" Clark asked, trying to piece together the chain of events.

Kevin nodded again. "Yeah, someone assumed it was just another shipment. By the time they realised the mistake, it was too late. The damn thing had already made its way to Adelaide."

"So they had to bring in the state police or the FBI?" Clark queried, his mind spinning with the chaos of it all.

Kevin chuckled bitterly. "Oh, they debated it alright. But by the time they decided, that infected jerk had already moved on. Ended up in some small town, laid out on cooling boards with his family."

"Thanks, Kevin," he said.

"Clark, would you like—"

"I'll be up in ten minutes. Schedule a general staff meeting for fifteen minutes from now. Call everyone and bring them in."

"Yes, sir."

"And Kev…"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you were the one who told me." Clark nodded.

Kevin left, and Clark glanced at his watch, noting the hour for the meeting to start. 

He walked over to the monitor projector embedded in the wall. With a deep breath, he switched it on and stared at the flickering screen, lost in thought.

The projector hummed to life, casting a bluish glow across the dimly lit lab. Clark's reflection mingled with the data and images flashing on the screen. His mind was a whirlwind of worry and regret. 

Shifting through the images and sat back with his arms crossed at the back of his head.

"How did it all go so wrong?" he muttered to himself, the soft hum of the projector the only response. He leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on the screen but thoughts far away.

"Oh Kathy, what I'm trying to say is that this was a chain of coincidences, with some incompetence mixed in. Mostly, it just happened. None of it was your man's fault. But he was in charge of the project, and he saw the situation start to escalate." Clark muttered with his fist clenched.