A blonde man in a deep blue suit wears a bright smile on his face as he walks down the street. He approaches one of the entrances into Brent where a police barricade has been set up. The man feels the tip of a nightstick poke his chest. His eyes shoot open. Two bobbies wearing face-masks stand at the barricade.

“Sorry sir. This borough is under quarantine. ‘Fraid we can’t let ya’ in.” The mustached officer says.

The man’s joy washes away. He narrows his eyes past the officers to see the empty streets beyond. He clenches his fists.

“What’s the meaning of this? I live here! I was away for a few days with m’lady and I come back only to be banned from going to my own home?!” The man scowls.

“Multiple confirmed cases of the plague had been confirmed within Brent. The Institute ordered for quarantining of Brent. Apologies.”

“What?? B-but I live there!”

“Sir I’m afraid until the plague is contained, you are forbidden from entering the borough. I suggest you go stay with your woman in the meantime.”

“Officer… All my stuff is in my house! I’m a goddamned writer! I need my materials or I won’t get paid!”

“Relax. There’s a telephone box down the street. Contact the Institute. They’ll send a doctor to retrieve your belongings.”

The man grits his teeth. Without saying another word, he storms down the street. On the corner sits a black telephone box with a white door. The man steps inside. He pulls out a single coin and places it in the slot. He cranks the handle to power up the machine then browses the number book until he locates the Institute. With a single finger, he clicks the numbers on the rotary dial while holding the receiver and stands against the earpiece. A series of rings goes through. Then a feminine voice speaks through the static;

“This is the London Institution of Medicine. If this is an emergency I’ll transfer you to the emergency line. Otherwise, how may we be of assistance with you today?”

“Oi! I’m a resident of Brent who just got back from a… vacation. And my writing supplies are inside the house. I need them. Now send a bloody fucking doctor here at the eastside entrance on Winger Street!”

“Retrieval of personal goods? Understood sir. We’ll dispatch a doctor to your location. Please wait and be patient for their arrival. Was there anything else?”

“No.”

“Have a nice day. And please be safe.”

The man slams the receiver back onto the switch hook. He sighs, stepping out of the booth to return to the entrance where the bobbies stood guarding. Crossing his arms, he just leans against a wall and pouts.

“Stop! Let me go this instance you leather-coated bloke!”

A black-haired woman calls out, struggling to break free as a Black Doctor carries her, wrists bound by cuffs. Her husband, a blonde-haired man with a mustache and their black-haired son watch from the doorstep. The woman is forcibly thrown into a carriage as it takes off with her inside after the doctor slaps the driver’s window. He returns to the man and boy. Her cries are muffled by the carriage’s crankshaft mechanical engine.

“Inside. Both of you. Now!” The doctor shouts.

The man grabs his son’s shoulder and leads him inside. They are joined by the doctor who shuts the door behind him. The boy hides behind his father.

“What now?? You just took my wife from me! She cooks. Cleans. Watches our son. I have to work down at the foundry.”

The doctor pulls out a sheet of paper from inside his coat and hands it to the man. He scans its contents.

“Barking and Dagenham is now under quarantine. Multiple confirmed cases of the plague in these parts. Your wife included. Under orders by the Institute, the infected are to be withdrawn from a quarantine zone. You and your son are restricted from leaving the confines of your home until the quarantine is lifted. You will be temporarily out of work and the school is closed so studies must be done within these walls. The Barker household is on the list to receive government aid for the time being. Be grateful you and your son did not contract the plague.” The doctor explains.

Barker clutches his hair, pulling some out of his head. His son looks up at him.

“S-so there’s no school anymore?” He asks.

Barker just nods. The doctor also nods.

“This is unfathomable…” Barker sighs.

He scratches his head. The doctor backs up some, his hand on the doorknob.

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“I assure you this is for your own safety. Your wife is still full of life and energy so it’s possible the plague hasn’t completely spread through her system. If she is compatible with Rainmaker, then we can eradicate the plague. If she is not compatible… Then she will not be returning. Good day to you both. And good luck. Expect a visit soon for a scheduled checkup.”

With that, the doctor leaves the house. Barker locks the front door. He looks to his son with worry in his eyes.

“The man with the beak… H-he said mom might not return?” The boy says.

Barker goes to his son, kneels down and embraces him.

“Let’s just pray she’ll make it through. Okay?” Barker murmurs.

“Okay, father…”

The steam carriage travels down into a tunnel leading to an underground lot near a structure with but a single window and door labeled: ‘QUARANTINE’.

Biting her tongue, the woman’s hands tremble. Red marks on her palms and forehead from slamming against the interior windows and doors. The passenger side door opens. A masked man in a black uniform motions for her to step out. She begrudgingly shuffles over and steps out of the carriage. She looks around at the underground complex.

“Where are we? Where are you taking me??” She asks in a panicked tone.

Her fears grow as a lean Black Doctor steps out of the complex. They approach the woman and the carriage driver. They wave the driver off then get closer to the woman, reaching a hand up to gently grab her chin and inspect her face.

“My. Aren’t you a beaut? Come with me, ma’am.” The doctor speaks in a deep, masculine tone.

Hesitant, the woman silently nods. She swallows hard. The carriage begins to take off as she is led into the complex. Through a dimly-lit hallway, they arrive at an elevator. The doctor pulls the latch on the floor, the small yellow arrow pointing at the letter ‘B’.

Reaching the designated floor, the woman is led down a hallway filled with individual rooms. The doctor finds an empty room. He pulls out a ring chock full of various keys to unlock the room. He then undoes the cuffs, grabs the woman’s arm and shoves her into the room. She falls to her knees. Before she can even get up to leave, the door is closed on her. The doctor then locks the door.

“You asshole! Let me out of here this instance! I’m not some prisoner damn it!!” The woman slams her fists on the window.

“Sorry dame. Afraid I can’t. You’re in here until you get treated with Rainmaker. Should it rid your bones and blood of the plague… You’ll be released. If you’re beyond saving well… Going to have to put you down like a sick dog.” The doctor explains.

The woman’s eyes widen. She shakes her head.

“P-put d-down??”

“Relax. Seems like the plague hasn’t kicked you down. May be alright. May not be. Someone should treat you soon. Until then. You have a chair and a bed. Let’s hope your days aren’t numbered.”

The woman pounds on the window as she watches the doctor leave. Her teeth grinding.

“Your fucking cure better work on me! I will not leave my family without a mother and wife!”

Her words carry no weight here. She finds herself out of breath from all the fussing. All she can do is lie down on the bed and await her visitor.

While not drawing nearly as large of a crowd, the Institute saw a mass of people gathered in the courtyard just outside the front entrance to the main building. The London Institution of Medicine was divided into three structures all connected on a single property. The tall, center building was the main headquarters full of offices including the one for the headmistress herself. The right two-story building housed the research labs and medical facilities. And the wide leftmost building standing several stories high was home to classrooms and dorms for students studying there. Altogether, the Institute held a high position in serving as both a medical school and state-of-the-art facility for advancing the fields of medicine.

All eyes were on the individual walking out of the main building. Headmistress Weston stands firmly with the attention completely on her now. She holds a clipboard with two pieces of paper. In the audience, Peter and Marianne sit glaring at the woman. Weston clears her throat.

“Do not expect a long-winding speech with lots of colorful wordplay from me today ladies and gentlemen. I am simply here to deliver updates regarding how our institution is dealing with the Crow’s Plague in conjunction to our partnership shared with the London city government. Numbers of victims succumbing to the plague are increasing by the day. As you all know, our Black Doctor division has been treating the populace ever since the outbreak first occurred. It’s a terrifying revelation and position we find ourselves in. To hopefully ease some of your fears, our scientists are working on a new variant of the antiviral serum, Rainmaker. Thanks to studies from reports of the victims and their symptoms, Rainmaker’s new variant should effectively combat the plague to a much better degree. We’re in the final stage of development as we speak. After initial testing, we’ll tweak what we need to then start equipping our doctors with the updated Rainmaker. For those victims fortunate enough to have not been taken from us, hopefully they can be treated and have the plague eradicated from their systems…” Weston spoke.

Some people were taking notes. Journalists and news reporters were scribbling down her words. There was a feeling of hope resonating from Weston’s words to not only the common folk, but also the various doctors in the audience including Peter and Marianne.

“… Our fair city had already been ravaged once by a great plague. While an endemic is not easy to deal with… Especially one who’s source is still unknown at this time… We are in a new age of advancing medicine and technology. The Institute will combat the plague with everything at its disposal. You, the people of London, must believe in us. Believe… That life will return to normal once this blight on our city comes to an eventual end.”

People start clapping. Soon the entire crowd was clapping, even some cheers and whistles came out. Weston smiles and nods.

“Thank you. Continue to believe in our fight. Times are bleak right now but there is hope. I, headmistress Paige Weston, promise that the Crow’s Plague will not last much longer. Once the new Rainmaker variant is done and more people can be cured, can we work to halt the spreading of the sickness. Make sure to continue to follow safety guidelines and protocols dictated by the government. Report any and all infected individuals. Doctors will gladly assist anyone in need of aid. And… May this plague meet a swift end. Thank you once again.”

Headmistress Weston bows for the crowd as they cheer. She heads inside and the people begin to disperse from the courtyard. Peter and Marianne don’t speak a word. In their minds they’re thinking of several things Weston had said. What she didn't say. They hold hands as they leave to head for the nearest trolley to take them back to their borough.