R. Ruggiero - Reckoning

“Well, you’re welcome,” Cooper said awkwardly. “I don’t feel heroic or righteous. I just did what I knew I had to do to wake up feeling right about myself and my boy.” His eyes gazed into the distance as he talked, “People deserve the truth, even when it’s tough to hear. In fact, when you think about it, that was a problem in the country before the plague…no one wanting to tell unpleasant truths.”

“You’re right about most regular people. But, people like me were always telling you all the truth about what might happen. You just didn’t want to hear it,” Dranko contravened.

Cooper pushed him with an open palm in the chest, “Can you give it a rest? How many more times do I have to hear some version of ‘I told you so’ from the great Paul Dranko? Sometimes, I think you helped Mitchell out just so you could be right about one of the versions of the end-of-the-world you were always spouting off about.” He turned to Lily, “Can you help me put a stop to this and give my medal to Dranko instead? I think it might shut him up!”

Dranko pushed him back, “Alright already, I made my point and you made yours. How about we leave it there?”

“Good enough for me,” Cooper returned.

Lily wagged her head deliberately back and forth and moved to the door, “You two remind me of my boys, always bickering like they say old women do. But, take this as the truth, when it comes to fussin’, you boys are far worse than the worst of any withered up old women I ever did see!” She exited the house and took deliberate care descending his front steps. When she reached the bottom, she looked back, “You all have a good night now, hear?”

Cooper gave her a warm smile, “Sure thing, Lily and thank you for stopping by. You are very kind.”

Lily just nodded her head and ambled off back towards her home. Cooper closed the door and turned to Dranko, “So, we can fire up my radio in a little bit and listen to the President?”

Dranko stepped towards the door, “Better yet, come over to my place. I can get it up on the computer most likely.”

“Your internet is still working?”

“It is. I don’t know how much longer, but my satellite link up is still working its magic.”

“Okay, I’ll be over on the hour.”

Dranko opened the door, left, and then shut it.

Cooper decided to spend the remaining time with Jake before listening in to the President’s message.

Later, they’d gathered at Dranko’s place. Cooper, Dranko, and Jake huddled in his basement room where Dranko had stockpiled all manner of communications equipment over the years. When they’d arrived, Dranko had surveyed the spectrum for their benefit. He had old vacuum-tubed radios that could survive the Electro-Magnetic Pulse he feared would eventually happen from a nuclear device detonated above America. He had several solar and hand-cranked radios that could operate without batteries. However, his most elaborate set-up was reserved for the myriad of ways he could stay connected to the Internet: satellite, cable modem, and satellite phone topped the list. Dranko’s small battery of stockpiled weapons had enabled the neighborhood to defend itself during the chaos thus far. Now, Cooper was thankful for his friend’s communications equipment that had allowed him to spread his message to the world about the Brushfire Plague and, now, listen to the President’s response.

The familiar podium and Seal of the President greeted them as Dranko secured a live streaming telecast of the speech over the Internet. Cooper tuned out the familiar greetings and the platitudes of sorrow the President offered his fellow Americans. His ears literally perked up when he got to the meat of the speech:

“In this trying time for our nation, a time of horrendous loss for so many, a time of unfathomable grief, a time when the strength of our country is being tested like never before, I first want to share that the hopeful rays of God’s mercy are shining once again. That’s right, my fellow Americans, the first signs that the scourge of the Brushfire Plague is finally abating.”

“I receive briefings from the Centers for Disease control three times daily. It pleases me beyond measure that over the last forty-eight hours, those briefings have told the same story: both the infection rate and the morbidity rate from this terrible plague have been falling steadily. In short, this means that the number of those becoming infected is falling. More importantly, the rate of those who do contract this disease and then die from it is declining rapidly. At the conclusion of my remarks, Dr. Charles Holmes, the Director of the CDC will speak to the specifics. But, the layman’s version is that the virus is mutating to a less lethal form. These developments mean great hope to those who are now sick, and even greater hope that our nation has passed through the darkest hour of this devilish calamity. Rest assured, we will be monitoring this situation carefully, but the best medical minds are confident that this trend will continue.”

The President paused as his face turned from one filled with hopeful and sympathetic lines to ones far grimmer. The transformation was slow, subtle, but complete. Despite himself, a riot of goose pimples erupted across Cooper’s body.

“However, amidst this moment of enormous hope and guarded relief, I must also respond to a new threat to our great nation. Most of you have probably seen the scandalous and unfounded reports spread across the Internet and some irresponsible media outlets that the Brushfire Plague was no accident. That it was intentionally started by a company called Admonitus, based in Portland, Oregon. Yes, I know, my fellow Americans, it is a shocking allegation that is beyond the pale.” Cooper felt the others’ eyes on him as the President recalled Cooper’s email to the world’s media detailing the devastating truth that he had learned about the genesis of the Brushfire Plague. The email sharing Mitchell’s darkest confessions.

“I want to assure you all that once this administration learned of that frightful rumor, we launched a full scale investigation to determine its veracity. In the reports, you may have also heard that my administration was aware of this diabolical plan and possibly assisted its implementation.”

His face grew angry, dark lines outlining his eyes and his jaw firmly set with muscles twitching, “You may only guess how outraged I was when I first heard of this nonsensical drivel. But, let me state plainly, and for the record, no one in my administration knew of such a plan, if it even existed. It is an affront to the honor of my family that such a thing has even been uttered. My family has suffered losses, as well. We were not spared from the death that has spread across our nation. It is incomprehensible to me that any madman would have done this on purpose. But, I swear on the word of God, that my administration had no warning of it nor did we enable or abet any such crazy plan.”

“We have found no evidence, thus far, that this plague was intentional. But, our investigation will continue, and we will transparently share with the American people any, and all, results that we learn. As I talk to you, officials are on the ground in Portland and we are moving to secure the offices and facilities of Admonitus and the home of its CEO, Ethan Mitchell.”

“I wish to say to my fellow Americans, and our neighbors around the world, America did not start this terrible plague of biblical proportion. We , as a nation, did not do…or even conceive…of any such thing. And, I promise you, if we learn that a crazed man or a company led by a madman did this, the punishment will be swift and unprecedented. You can know this as truth!” He pounded his fist against his desk with a loud thud.