When a strange outbreak occurs at a lakeside campground, Jake Walker and Lance Cameron investigate. Not only are they biologists, they’re lovers who share a passion for science.
The outbreak has locals terrified. Nine campers become sick; four die, and one victim reports an increase in her sex drive so serious, she attacks her best friend's husband. Is this lustiness caused by the disease? What’s behind the odd rainstorm that falls over a small geographic area and the strange red dust around the cabins? Is this outbreak a new disease or something much more dire?
Together Jake and Lance must find the cause before others are infected ... and before they come down with the plague themselves.
Once back at the chalet, Jake sat at the kitchen table, spooning hot turkey soup into his mouth. "Your soups are to die for. And this one is one of your best. Just the thing I need to help me feel better."
"How are you feeling now?"
"A bit better. The dip in the hot tub helped." He took Lance's hand and gave it a squeeze. "As did your private, special ministrations."
"I could repeat therapy if the patient deems it necessary."
Jake spooned the last of the soup, stood, and took the bowl and spoon to the dishwasher. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass. If you don't mind, I'd like to lie down for about an hour to sleep this bug off. Then we can get back to work."
"Sounds like a good idea. I'll join you."
"No groping. Sleep only."
Lance smiled. "I can't promise that."
* * * *
Lance awakened in the dark with a start in a cold sweat. Once the chills took over, Jake stirred at his side, and then woke up.
"I can't shop shivering." Lance curled up into a ball, wondering what was happening to him. He hadn't felt this sick in years. Was this how Jake felt? Did he somehow expose himself to what the campers caught? He shook so hard his back seized. Pain shooting from his shoulder blades to his hips brought tears to his eye. He groaned in agony.
Jake grabbed the blanket bunched at the bottom of the bed and brought it up to wrap around Lance, who grabbed it as if it were a life preserver. Anything to get warm.
After what seemed like hours, the chills passed. Lance relaxed, exhausted but wide awake. He glanced at the clock. 4:30 am.
"I have a scorching headache." Lance said. "Could you please get me some aspirin?"
"Of course. Would you like some cold medicine, too? It's only 4:30. You could sleep for a few more hours."
"Sure. It might help. This sure came on suddenly."
"I feel terrible. You got it from me. We're playing volley-germ."
"You didn't have the chills, though. And it's all in your head. Every joint in my body is on fire, and my ears are ringing. I hope it's not the camper's disease."
"I doubt that's what it is. Maybe it's the flu manifesting itself differently. You have the headache to end all headaches, though, just like me. Let's keep an eye on it. We haven't drunk anything except bottled water, and we've used gloves and masks at the cabin. We thoroughly cook our food, too."
Jake returned with Tamiflu, aspirin, and a bottle of water. After Lance took the medicine, he lay back in bed, wondering how whatever-it-was could slam him down flat on his back like this. Lance took pride in his healthy way of living. Fit and athletic, he worked out, ate organic, fresh food, and avoided too much alcohol. He neither smoked nor took illicit drugs. No prescription drugs, either. His body was a temple, and he hated so much as defiling it with aspirin and cold medicine, but now he had no choice. He rarely got sick, and when he did it was usually only a mild head cold.
This was different, but he couldn't let it stop him from doing his job. What if I attack Jake with a dildo? Did I catch it from Emily Vanderness? He worried a stray thread on his T-shirt. Damn, he'd been careful! And he had work to do. A few more hours of sleep might be enough to get the bug under control so he could get back to the cabin. Before he knew it he drifted off into a fitful, dreamless sleep.