Linda Andrews - Extinction Level Event

By the time, the hour hand hit six, California and the Eastern Seaboard had been swallowed by red. The crimson rainbow in the Louisiana arched into parts of Texas and Mississippi while mushrooming into Oklahoma and Arkansas. The projections for water, sanitation, communication, transportation began to decline.

Green.

Yellow.

Red.

Then the functionality hit zero.

Sunnie clamped her hand over her mouth. The scarlet stain couldn’t be the infection. It just couldn’t. If someone infected had left California the moment the ban had been lifted, then the Redaction would already be within the Phoenix city limits.

At eight o’clock, black freckled the flowing red ink. Soon white numbers bloomed in the dark smudges-one, two, five, twenty-five. By the time the red blanketed the entire mainland, the black numbers had blinked at seventy-two percent on the coasts and the smudges kept spreading.

Sunnie gripped the back of the sofa to stay on her feet. “Aunt Mavis?”

This time, her aunt turned in her seat. Color fled her face as she half-rose out of her seat. “Sunnie? Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m just worried.”

Her aunt didn’t try to dodge the issue of the Redaction like she had the movie premiere and war with North Korea. “How much did you hear?”

“That it’s back and stronger than ever.” Sunnie traced the grout line with her toe and jerked her head toward the laptop. “I saw the map.”

Aunt Mavis frowned at the computer. Mainland US was a black blot on the screen. “My predictions are only as good as the Intel I have to base them on.”

She stopped and curled her toes inside her sock. “So it could be wrong?”

“Maybe.” Her aunt raked her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. I should get an update later.”

A number flashed across the blackened continent. Sunnie counted the zeroes, blinked then counted them again. Seven zeroes before the decimal point and two numbers before that.

One hundred sixty million casualties.

Did America even have that many citizens left?

“Is that the first time you’ve run it?”

Aunt Mavis sank back into her seat, stabbed the enter button on her keyboard and the screen blanked. She quickly pulled up a spreadsheet, linked it to the simulation program then hit the enter key again. “Unfortunately, no.”

On legs as sturdy as wet noodles, Sunnie stumbled to the table and collapsed into the chair. “But the numbers are getting better each time, right?”

Her aunt turned the computer so Sunnie could see the map bleed red then blister with black.

“Worse with each parameter I enter.” Aunt Mavis squeezed her skull between her hands. “And I haven’t even accounted for the coolant rod meltdown at the nuclear power plants, human predation, or toxic events from chemical transports.”

“Human predation?”

“Raping, hoarding, killing each other for food or water or the sadistic pleasure of it.” Shadows danced in Aunt Mavis’s eyes. “The indelible stamp of our lowly origins. Except, animals behave better.”

Her eyes burned as she stared at the screen. “God!”

“Mother Nature is one pissed off bitch.” Mavis poked the enter button and the black map disappeared.

“Will anyone survive?” Sunnie sat on her trembling hands. Her heart thudded sluggishly in her chest, like it pumped molasses through her veins instead of blood.

Aunt Mavis cupped Sunnie’s cheek. “We will survive; so will others.”

She latched onto her aunt’s warm hand. Not on her own. She’d just lie down and die. “Because you’re so smart. You’ll know what to do.”

“It’s not the strongest or the smartest that survives, but the one most able to adapt.” Her aunt’s lips twisted into a grimace as she stared at her computer. “We’re going to prove Charles Darwin right. We will make it. You’ll see.”

Sunnie squeezed her eyes closed and melted against the wooden chair. Tidal waves of fear, uncertainty and helplessness rolled through her. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know that a positive attitude is the foundation of survival.” Aunt Mavis squeezed Sunnie’s hand.

Sunnie felt the play of muscle and the strength of bone. She inhaled a shaky breath and pried her fingers free. Positive attitude. She could do that. “Okay. What else?”

“Rest.” Aunt Mavis closed the laptop and pushed out of her seat. “Right now nothing has really changed for us. We have electricity, running water, and food. So don’t worry about what could happen.”

She nodded. Positive attitude. Stop worrying. Worrying stresses the immune system. She could do it. She would do it. Her stomach cramped. Most of the time. “Anything else?”

“That’s a lot for now.” Her aunt shuffled into the open kitchen and reached for the cordless phone. It rang under her hand.

Sunnie jumped at the loud ringing and pressed her hand to her chest. Good God, she really need to chil-lax. Maybe she’d try those yoga DVDs she’d purchased for her birthday.

Her aunt looked at the phone before hitting the send button and raising it to her ear. “Miles, I expected you to call me two minutes ago.”

The muffled sound of speaking slipped into the silent room, but the words were as comprehensible as the adults on her aunt’s Charlie Brown movies.

“Yes, I’ve run the sims.” Aunt Mavis rubbed at a stain on the linoleum countertop. “Worse. I’ve gotten a ninety-one mortality rate with all factors combined. And I was being optimistic.”

Ninety-one? Stars danced in the fringes of Sunnie’s vision. Heat blossomed in her chest and blood pulsed in her skull. How are we to survive that?

“No, they wouldn’t be safe. Alaska is gone, Miles.” Aunt Mavis tucked her hand under her armpit and shivered. “You and I both know containment is about as real as the seven cities of gold.”

Sunnie twisted in her seat, turning her body toward the hallway. Maybe she should leave. Listening to her aunt talk was not helping. Not one little bit.

“Birds for one. They’re immune, you know that.” The older woman paced from counter to counter. “Besides, if just one phage survived the fires in China, it will jump on the backs of the ash, merge in the jet stream. For all we know, it could already be here.”

Already here. All those people on-line could already be exposed. Sunnie crumpled onto the table. The teak wood supported her upper body, propped up her limp arms, and cradled her head.

“That’s stupid. The East coast isn’t any safer than the West.” Aunt Mavis walked to the cabinet by the sink and yanked it open. Rows of clear glasses stared back. “What else have those Washington imbeciles decided?” She reached for the cup and pulled it out. It slipped from her fingers. “You’ve got to be kidding me. The survival of our race is at stake and they’re worried about profit margins and dividends?” After a loud pop, jagged pieces of glass scattered over the tile. “The people have a right to know. They can’t—”

Sunnie balanced her head on her chin. They can’t what?

“I’ve already written a press release.” Aunt Mavis carefully lowered her hand to the counter. “No, I’ve only sent you a copy.” Squeezing her eyes closed, she lowered her head. “I understand. But you should know I respectfully disagree with you.”

One press release. Sunnie’s thoughts raced as she connected the pieces. About the Redaction’s return. And the government was going to sit on it.

Her aunt was going to sit on it.

She jerked upright. Aunt Mavis wouldn’t do that, would she?

“Well, I didn’t agree with the government’s position in Kuwait either, and look what happened when that got out.” Her aunt scrubbed her hand down her face. “Yes, it’s perfectly clear.” Sucking on her bottom lip, she lowered the phone before sweeping her thumb over the off button.