R. Ruggiero - Brushfire Plague

He had scarcely stepped into the hallway and closed the door quietly behind him, when he heard someone rapping on the door. Looking out a window, he saw Calvin waiting on the doorstep.

He opened the door, “How ya doin’, Calvin?”

“Good, considering the circumstances,” he chuckled briefly. “We have the reports in from the survey teams.”

Cooper invited him to sit down in his living room with a wave of his hand. Cooper still couldn’t get used to the sight of people visiting him with a handgun on their hip and a long arm in their hands. Calvin sat down heavily into the soft welcoming arms of Cooper’s sofa. Everyone must be dead tired by now.

Calvin looked up with worry-worn eyes, “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

A wry smile crossed Cooper’s lips, “Today, I will take the good first.”

“The two-block area immediately to our north is pretty well organized. They have defensives positions and patrols up, much like we do. However, they are not very well armed.”

“Thank God for Dranko’s paranoia, eh?”

Calvin’s head bobbed up and down, “Absolutely. I guess he turned out to be not so paranoid, did he?”

Cooper nodded in reply before Calvin continued, “They have also taken over the Second Lots grocery store and are disbursing the food in an organized fashion.”

“Lucky for them to have a store selling odd lots of canned goods and jars of peanuts in their backyard.” Inside, Cooper was kicking himself for not having thought of that store as a resource point, since it was so close to them.

“I’ll say. However, we might be able to trade a few weapons for some food. Our survey team told me that they were salivating as they saw the weapons our guys were carrying. All they have are a handful of old hunting rifles and a couple handguns.”

Cooper scratched his chin, “That’s a good idea. The better defended they are, the better it is for us. For example, we can reduce the barricades on our northern side and use the few extra people elsewhere. We will have more warning if a serious threat develops there.”

Calvin nodded; chin in hand, “Good. I will talk to Dranko about it and see what we can do.”

“Right. OK. So what’s the bad news?”

“Just to our south, some bad elements are developing. Apparently, there were about a dozen families who all belonged to the same church in that neighborhood. The church has become a focal point of organization.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Cooper interrupted.

“You’re right, it should be. However, the churchgoers are using their access to food and other supplies as a heavy-handed recruitment tool. Our team talked to some in the neighborhood who are getting pretty upset about being forced to attend daily services at the church if they want food. It’s very possible it could turn violent,” Calvin concluded gravely.

“That’s too bad. From what Dranko has told me, churches have become a rallying point in lots of different places. All kinds of religions too—from Christian, to Buddhist, to Muslim, to Jewish. Why would these guys take this route?”

“They are short-sighted. Or, maybe their God told them to do it this way. It is small church, so who knows what their religious grounding is.”

Cooper shook his head, “Alright, we should make a point to keep in contact with those we met there and keep an eye on that situation. Anything else of interest?”

“Not really. To our east and west are mostly just disorganized. There is one last tidbit,” Calvin finished and a wide grin spread across his face, despite his best efforts to control it.

Cooper’s brow wrinkled, “What is it, man? Spit it out!”

Calvin chuckled, “This is why I never could play poker.” He leaned in and whispered, “As our teams asked about the illness, they all found out something incredible.”

Cooper raised his eyebrows, “And?”

“All the neighborhoods had the same report: no one new has come down with the illness within the last twenty-four hours,” his words came rapidly now. “I couldn’t believe it. So, I had our internal team do another round-up through the neighborhood. We haven’t had anyone come down with it since…”

Cooper leaned back heavily, “Since Jake. It’s been about twenty-four hours since he came down with it.” A roil of emotions washed over him. “So, what does this mean?”

Calvin’s face was aglow with excitement, “It could mean this thing is over, Cooper. Think about it. We’ve been dropping like flies since the outbreak. Just in our neighborhood, we’ve had several people coming down with the symptoms every single day. I think it has to mean something that no one in a wider area has got it for a full day!”

Cooper knocked his head with his hands, trying to make sense of it, “OK. Let’s get Lisa and Angela in here. They are our best medical minds available to us.”

“I’ve already talked with Lisa. She’s cautiously optimistic like me. She said it is possible it is an anomaly. Since the outbreak, the radio and internet have been rife with rumors of ‘it’s ending’ every day. So, I wouldn’t trust much of that kind of news, anyway.”

“What does she recommend?”

“She said we should watch it closely. If we get another twenty-four hours without any more with symptoms, she said that would mean something else entirely.”

“I can’t believe it. I don’t know what to say,” Cooper said as he sank back again into the sofa, his hands clapping his forehead.

“I couldn’t either. It took me an hour of pacing about my living room to finally, remotely, start believing it.”

Cooper sat up with a start, “Oh, no! If this thing really is ending, Jake could be one of the last ones to have got it.”

Calvin’s smile disappeared instantly and he let out a loud exhale, “I’m sorry.”

Cooper waved his hand, “It’s not your fault. Don’t get me wrong, I will be happy if this thing is over. It just means I really have to get to Admonitus and do what needs to be done to save my boy.” Cooper paused for a moment and his face brightened, “It’s also possible that Jake may have a weaker strain in him. Usually, viruses become weaker as they go from person to person. So, if it is fading out, maybe he has a weaker variety!”

Calvin hesitated and then nodded emphatically, “Yes! That sounds like a possibility to me, too. Let’s hope for that.”

Cooper stood up and shuffled his feet as he collected his thoughts. Calvin stood as well, readying himself to leave.

“I have some information for you as well.”

Calvin’s face grew puzzled, “What’s that?”

“You know Joe Vang, the mailman, right?”

“Of course.”

“We visited his cousin, who leads the Vietnamese Protection Society.”

Calvin’s face grew hard, muscles bulging on his jawline, “You mean, he’s a gangster?”

“Sure, whatever it’s called, they have trained men with good weapons. They’ve offered us six men for a week to help protect our neighborhood.”

Calvin took a step back, “At what cost, Cooper?”

“Ten-thousand now. Fifteen thousand later, when the banks reopen.”

“I wasn’t asking about the cost in money,” he paused gathering himself. He began shaking his head, “No, no, no. We cannot do this. I lost a brother because he joined a Protection Society,” Calvin’s words dripped with scorn.

Cooper held up his hands, palms outward, “Look. We can’t get emotional about this. We need to be objective about how we protect our neighborhood.”

Calvin looked back at him steely-eyed, “It’s true Cooper. I’m emotional on this,” he said defiantly. “When I found my brother’s body lying face down in the street in a pool of blood when I was twelve-years old—it did make me emotional about steering clear of anything to do with gangs. But, there’s more to it than that. Once you let these guys in—you won’t ever get them out. Trust me.”