The Human Syndrome: A John Logan Action and Adventure Mystery Thriller Novel (Logan's Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  The

  Human

  Syndrome

  Book 1

  A John Logan

  Action, Adventure, and Mystery Thriller Novel

  AJ Newman

  .

  Acknowledgments

  This book is dedicated to Patsy, my beautiful wife of thirty-six years, who assists with everything from Beta reading to censor duties. She enables me to write, golf, and enjoy my life with her and our mob of Shih Tzu’s.

  Thanks to Patsy, Cheryl, Wes, Richard C, Cliff, Alisha, and Richard S who are Beta readers for this novel. They gave many suggestions that helped improve the cover and readability of my book.

  Thanks to Sabrina Jean at Fasttrackediting for proofreading and editing this novel.

  Thanks to WMHCheryl at http://wmhcheryl.com/services-for-authors/ for the great final proofreading and suggestions on improving the accuracy and helping me to tell a better story.

  Thanks to Christian at Covers by Christian for the fantastic cover.

  AJ Newman

  Copyright © 2020 Anthony J Newman. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. All events, names, characters, and places are the product of the author’s imagination or are used as a fictitious event. That means I thought up this whole book from my imagination, and nothing in it is true.

  All rights reserved. None of this publication may be copied or reproduced without prior written permission from the publisher.

  As they say on TV, don’t try anything you read in this novel. It’s all fiction and stuff I made up to entertain you. Buy some survival books if you want to learn how to survive in the apocalypse.

  Published by Newalk LLC.

  Henderson, Kentucky

  Table of Contents

  Key Characters

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Books by AJ Newman

  About the Author

  Key Characters

  John Logan –The hero of these mystery stories, John, is an oddball genius who doesn’t take himself very seriously. He has a knack for making money and solving crimes. John works as a professor of Chemistry at the University of South Alabama and is an entrepreneur in his spare time. Dauphin Island, Alabama, is his home, and he is a divorced man with two adult children, Cindy and Alex.

  Mike Newburn – John’s best friend since they served in the military together. Mike is a single divorced man who works hard managing his business but knows how to have fun. He’s rich and has a home on the beach at Dauphin Island, Alabama. Mike owns 90% of J&M Chemical Solutions LLC.

  Cindy Logan – John’s daughter and lives with him over the summer. Has a Master’s degree in Nanotechnology and Material science. She’s a bit nosey and a brilliant chemist.

  Jane Beam – One of John’s best students who goes to work for him after graduating at the top of her class. She’s a single mom and has a crush on John.

  Beth James – Works for Mike Newburn at J&M Chemical Solutions and is Mike’s secret girlfriend. She is jealous of John and doesn’t like him.

  Sally Logan-Wells – John’s beautiful but self-centered ex-wife. She is a constant pain in John’s ass.

  Dr. Brunner – The owner of New Wave Labs and head chemist. He is one of the leading scientists in the field of Nanotechnology. He has an unknown billionaire supporting his efforts.

  Prologue

  London, England – Four weeks in the future.

  I wish I’d known over a month ago that I’d soon be knee-deep in deadly microscopic robots and tiny exploding drones. Everyone says, “I wish I knew back then what I know now,” but I don’t know what I’d done differently except run a hell of a lot faster when I saved my ex-wife’s life. Even with the pain I’ve suffered, it was the right thing to do.

  ***

  The Royal London Hospital – London England

  Dead men were piled all around me while swarms of biting flies smothered my face. An alligator gnawed on my leg while another’s eyes were only inches from my face. I was going to die and could do nothing to save myself. The nightmare scared me, and I woke with my heart racing, soaked in sweat and in pain while swatting at imaginary flies. My right eye slowly opened even though my head hurt like the dickens, and my vision was blurry. The room was dark, but I thought I heard someone snoring. I did hear someone talking far away and the sound of a machine whirring and beeping. I remembered thinking, where the hell am I? I looked around the room but still couldn’t focus or make things out. The feeling of a blast of superheated air and the excruciating pain from something hitting my back during the explosion stuck in my memory, but not what caused it. I did remember hearing, “Damn, he’s heavy. Help me get him into the truck’s bed. You drive. I’ll tend to his wounds. Go! Cindy, go!”

  Suddenly, memories flashed before my closed eyes. I saw swarms of almost invisible bugs attacking me, and then I saw and felt the explosion. I thought, why would I be remembering bits and pieces of an explosion and swarms of bugs while having nightmares about piles of dead men?

  A while later, I woke up again to hear something and, at first, thought it was my mom reading a bedtime story to me. “Both were buck-naked in the back of ….” I instantly knew someone was reading my favorite post-apocalyptic survival novel to me. The fog cleared, and I saw Jane was reading to me. She was engrossed in the novel, so I was able to watch her for a few minutes before she noticed I was awake.

  My guess was they’d placed me on my side to allow my wound to heal, but I was very uncomfortable. I tried to lift my left arm and pain shot across my upper back. I was now wide-awake, and Jane saw me move. “He’s awake. Doctor Logan is awake!”

  “My God! He sent an angel to watch over me.” Now, why did I say that about my student, and why was my best chemistry student reading to me?

  Chapter 1

  Mobile, Alabama

  The old guy had been sleeping behind one of the warehouses in a cardboard box close to the docks on Mobile Bay. Filthy clothes and a lack of food were in the past. His new janitor’s job was just what he needed to get a fresh start. He’d gone to pieces when his wife and grandkids were killed in an automobile crash in the George C. Wallace Tunnel under the Mobile River. He’d been drunk every day for two years since the accident.

  The job at New Wave Labs wasn’t too bad. The work wasn’t hard, and he only had to sweep the warehouse floors. The place was air-conditioned, which wasn’t common in Mobile. Summers were brutal because of the heat plus high humidity.

  He now had a bed at a flophouse in Prichard. He’d actually had three square mea
ls and had resisted drinking for two whole days. He hoped to buy a bicycle and maybe a car one day. One of the funny talking men picked him up every day and took him home every evening. He was almost happy for the first time in years.

  On the third day, his boss, Ivan, summoned him to sweep out a room that looked more like a doctor’s exam room. He walked in and started sweeping when he noticed the large mirror built into the wall. His pulse increased, and he quickly looked around the room for cameras and recording devices. He’d been in an interrogation room before.

  The old man continued sweeping when he heard a faint buzzing noise that kept getting louder. He looked around the room and could hear the sound coming from a vent. He peered through the grating over the vent when suddenly, a dark cloud came out toward him. The pain began immediately.

  The old man swatted at the air with his broom, and then as he fell, he yelled, “Semper Fi!”

  Ivan hauled the body up to North Mobile and dumped the weighted body into the Chickasabogue River. Ivan had lost count of the men he’d fed to the alligators.

  University of South Alabama – Mobile, Alabama

  The headline read, “Another Black man missing in Theodore,” as I hovered over the page. The sweat bead ran down my forehead and dangled from the tip of my nose. My eyes were crossed as I tried to aim at the word missing. I shook my head a bit, and the droplet fell to hit my target on the newspaper. Damn, I’m good! The paper should read, “Doctor John Logan - Best sweat droplet bomber in the world!” I was also bored and ready for school to end.

  It was already scorching, humid, and sticky in Mobile, and it was only mid-spring. Six months out of the year, Mobile was so damp you had to change clothes at lunch if you just walked out to your car and back. Summers were unbearable for most folks and those who could, spent time at the many nearby beaches. If that weren’t wicked enough, it rained every afternoon about two o’clock and made the humidity even worse.

  The air-conditioning had crapped out the day before, and maintenance said they had to order a new unit for the chemistry department annex. Did I fail to mention none of the friggen windows opened in the entire university? Stupid, to say the least.

  I gave up on bombing my newspaper with my sweat droplets and mopped my brow with an already sopping handkerchief. I’d brought in several fans from home and aimed them at my students. I tried my best to take care of my students because one day, they could be performing surgery on me. They were miserable, but at least they had shorts and T-shirts versus my shirt and pants, while I suffered from sweat-stained armpits and ball soup. I’d suffered worse over in Iraq during the war, but I was now thirty pounds heavier and had been working in air-conditioned classrooms since leaving the Army. Being a professor was cushy work, and I’d gotten a bit fat and lazy.

  The newspaper article boldly stated that the police adamantly denied there was a serial killer on the loose in Mobile. Obviously, they lied like a cur dog. The more the mayor and police deny something, the more you shouldn’t trust them to tell the truth. Newspapers lie a lot. I worried about justice for their families but was soon distracted by another article on beach erosion at Dauphin Island where I lived.

  A minute later, I looked up from the Mobile Press Register to check on my students who were taking the final exam of the year. I knew I’d catch one asshole cheating and couldn’t wait to drag Adam’s ass down to the Dean’s office. Darn, no one was cheating, back to reading my paper and sweating bullets.

  The article about the missing men went on to say even with three bodies and half a dozen missing men, the police were convinced there was no apparent connection among the disappearances or deaths. I hated coincidences. I took another peek above the newspaper and saw nothing.

  Don’t get me wrong, because I support cops and first responders. They keep us all from death and chaos. It’s their leader’s integrity that I don’t have much faith in nowadays. There obviously was something happening that the mayor didn’t want to get out to the public.

  All the men were older black men. All were found floating in the Mobile River or Mobile Bay. None of them could be identified. Their teeth were missing, and the crabs and gators had removed most of their flesh. I thought there were probably other similarities in their deaths that the police had kept to themselves. Yes, we definitely had a serial killer on the loose. It was highly likely the bastard was a racist with a larger plan. Good fodder for a novel, but even though I was hooked on CSI and mystery crap, I didn’t have time to get involved … this time.

  I was drowsy that late spring day in May. Classes ended that week, and my give-a-shit needed adjusting since I was stuck in class sweating my ass off instead of out fly fishing with my buddy, Mike. It had been a long school year, but it was the last week for classes. Did I mention it was a long school year?

  My phone rang, “Put me in coach …,” and I pushed the ‘ignore Mike button.’ Mike was my best friend, business partner, and a royal pain in the ass. He’d called twice today, and I was busy. It would do him good to wait for a change.

  My eyelids were heavy from last night’s visit from my on-again-off-again girlfriend, Meagan. I began having a daydream about her. She was younger and had a hollow leg. I was older, and my best drinking days were behind me. The more she drank, the more passionate she became and wanted my out-of shape-body. The more I drank, the heavier my eyelids became, so my rule was no more than two drinks before well, you know. Anyway, she kept me up way too late last night.

  I came back to reality and glanced out one of the windows that didn’t open, saw the sun shining, and longed to be asleep under the stand of pine trees at the entrance to the campus. That pile of needles would be nice and soft to lie on. I imagined I could smell the scent of pine needles in the early spring. Then I thought I should move my nap to my cabin since half of these idiots would probably piss on me or drive a stake in my heart while I slept.

  Apparently, I was beloved by only a tiny percentage of my wonderful, spoiled SOB students. I liked the chemistry majors and serious doctor wannabe students but barely tolerated the others. At least the serious students acted as if they liked me. They had to endure me because I was the only Organic Chemistry professor at the school. I had their future careers in my hands.

  There were maybe fifteen bright students in my third-semester organic chemistry class of thirty-two. Only six were pursuing a degree in chemistry, and nine great students were wannabe doctors. All of the others were wannabe doctors of something. Well, two wanted to be veterinarians. Their parents were successful and had lots of loot to pay their way through college. Many of them had to have cheated on the ACTs because half only earned Bs and Cs in freshman chemistry. For God’s sake, they all wanted to be neurosurgeons or orthopedic doctors.

  I started daydreaming about Meagan again but ceased when I saw Jill slide the note to her boyfriend, the tall redheaded football player. Got ‘em! It was the last day of class, and I’d been trying to catch him cheating for months. Jill was a good student, and I felt a bit sorry for her being used by the cheat.

  I quickly stood and strolled up to Adam from behind. “Adam, please give me the note Jill passed to you.”

  He looked like he was having a heart attack. His face drained of the usual ruddy color and was ashen gray. “I, uh, uh. Doctor Logan, she didn’t give me a note.”

  I took the note from his shaking hand. It had the answers to several test questions. “Adam, go to the office and tell the dean you cheated on your final. Go!”

  He stood up and squared off at me. “Logan, my Dad will have your job!”

  Adam was a jock without much of a brain. He wore a wife beater shirt, shorts, and flip flops. His ruddy freckled complexion had turned beet red, and his fists were clenched. At six-foot-five and twenty-four years younger, he was quite formidable. The boy was huge. He was too cocky to boot. If he swung, I’d kick him in the balls and then slam my knee into his face. I don’t fight fair.

  “My name is Doctor Logan, to you. I doubt your dad wants my j
ob if he has to put up with students who don’t do their studies and then cheat on exams.”

  I turned to Jill. “Jill, go to the office and tell the Dean that you were caught helping Adam to cheat. I’ll have the report on her desk in a few hours. Go!”

  Jill’s eyes watered. “But I was just trying …”

  “Helping Adam cheat is just as bad as cheating yourself. Now go!”

  “Will this cause me to fail?”

  I almost laughed but instead said, “Talk to your advisor.”

  I watched them leave the room and was bored again. I needed some excitement in my life. Be careful what you wish for.

  Chapter 2

  University of South Alabama – Mobile, Alabama

  An hour later, all the tests were on my desk, and I had one of the fans blowing directly on me. The bottom half of my students ran like cockroaches when someone turns the lights on to go party, not caring about their tests. As usual, I walked out to get a soda, flirted a bit with the French professor, and returned to grade the tests with my assistant’s help. Shuffling through the papers, I sorted them into the good, bad, and ugly piles. I always graded the ugly pile first. Yeah, they were right in the D plus to C minus range with two Fs. I was shocked that Greg Fish had passed with a C plus. He was a football player who’d asked for extra coaching.

  I’d asked my best student, Jane Beam, who also worked as my assistant, to work with Greg. He must have taken it seriously. Jane appeared to be older than the other students were but was still much younger than I was. She’d served three years in the Air Force in their military intelligence group before college. She was a natural born leader who the other students looked up to as a role model.