Linda Andrews - Extinction Level Event

Sunnie opened the thread. “What’s your screen name?”

“Mongoose.”

She scrolled down until she found it.

Mongoose: UR lucky you got out. Freakish snow storm here today. Spent the day on Google Maps. WTF is with the smoke in China?”

catsin99: BN breathing that Sh** all month. Heard they were toasting the bodies.

Mongoose: B careful you don’t get sick. Smoke is bad for lungs.

Sunnie reread the message. Had she missed something? “I thought you were going to warn everyone about the Redaction, not second-hand smoke.”

“The Chinese Redaction is a sickness that starts in the lungs and it’s coming here.” Aunt Mavis hit the enter key, waited until the text appeared then touched a switch on the side of the black box. “Done and with five seconds to spare.” The computer died. “And everyone knows the smoke has hit the west coast, so they’ll know they’re in the most danger.”

“And people are supposed to get that how?” Sunnie scrolled up the messages. Sure lots of people were responding to Mongoose’s message, but that didn’t mean they understood the warning. She stopped on Mongoose’s last message.

Mongoose: Timer just went off. Got2 go cuz my goose is cooked. LOL

Nothing there either. Maybe her aunt wasn’t that great at this informant business.

“catsin99 is a reporter. One we’ve used before. She knows the shorthand and where to look.” Aunt Mavis closed the laptop. “Once she confirms the fires and their reasons, learns quarantines are still in effect for China, and that India is experiencing higher than expected casualties along their common boarder… News of a new Redaction outbreak will be the lead story on every network across the world. Catherine Sinclair might just win a Pulitzer Prize for her work.”

“But lots more people will be exposed in the next twenty-four hours.”

“It’s the best I can do, Sunnie.” Aunt Mavis tucked the black box under her arm. “My models show that early warnings won’t make a difference. Not even a single life. I’m just praying my sims are wrong.”

Day 2

David stared at the ceiling of his tent. A light shower tapped on the canvas roof and the scent of wet asphalt and dirt drifted in through the open windows.

Extinction.

Placing his hands behind his head, he laced his fingers together and stared into the darkness. How was it possible that humanity was on the brink of going under?

People hunted other animals to oblivion.

They didn’t disappear from the face of the planet because of some damn superbug.

“Damn Big D,” Robertson groaned over the snores of the barracks five other occupants. “Why didn’t you get blown while you were visiting the CO’s new girlfriend? Did you piss him off again?”

The images of the bug doctor shuffled inside David’s head. Instead of her hunched, white-faced over her computer, she smiled at him from the side of her car. Then the pillow of her bed. A man had to have dreams. “Mavis isn’t the CO’s new hummer muffin.”

The cot to his right creaked.

“Mavis? Sounds a little too old to be a muffin of any kind.” Robertson chuckled. “But don’t count the old broads out. They know their shit or dick as the case may be. In Italy, I once picked up this prosti who—”

“Mavis isn’t a prostitute or selling herself for food.” Christ! David ran his fingers through his short hair. She’d probably shoot Colonel Asshole, if he even tried to blackmail her into paying for her rations with sex. That he’d love to see. Hell, he’d even supply her with ammunition. And she’d do it too. His chest swelled with pride. She’d damn near unmanned the CO with a phone call. Mavis Spanner was a near perfect mixture of brains, bravery and boobs. “She’s a doctor.”

Robertson whistled low. “Colonel Ass has a case of the drippy-burnies? That makes how many STDs this year? Five? Six? The man must be going for a personal best.”

David casually cupped himself. Oozing sores on the genitals were nothing to joke about. Except in the CO’s case. How the man could be so paranoid about getting sick, yet keep getting sexually transmitted diseases was a mystery. The asshole must not put on his raincoat before going into a downpour.

And to think of Mavis with that bastard.

David gripped the side of the cot until his arms shook. “Mavis isn’t that kind of doctor.”

“Guess it’s too much to ask him to stop fucking everything with legs.” Robertson swung his legs over the bed. His body was a wide shadow next to David’s cot. “What do you mean that kind of doctor? Why would he need to leave base and after dark if it wasn’t for sex?”

David clamped his lips together. Colonel Asshole had forbidden him to speak of the purpose of tonight’s drive to the remainder of his unit. Like his men didn’t have the right to know that the shit was about to hit the fan. Again.

“No!” Robertson hissed, springing to his feet. “Ah hell, no Big D! She’s one of them doctors.”

“Put a sock in it, Rubberman.” Their bunk mate grumbled before a pillow sailed through the air.

David set his feet on the floor. The cold seeped into the pads of his feet. He didn’t have to say the words for his men to be protected or informed. “You may want to listen to Rubberman’s rantings, Private. Might just save your life some day.”

“Yeah?” Flesh smacked flesh to the drum of a toned gut.

“Huh?” A sleepy voice sounded from the darkness. “What the fuck, Ray?”

Robertson stomped up and down the aisle. “God-damn-fucking-shit-faced-whore’s-son.”

“Big D has something he doesn’t want to tell us,” Ray whispered loudly. “So he’s using Rubberman as a meat puppet.”

David pushed out of bed and looked through the mesh window. A red dot glowed where a sentry on duty took time to smoke. Lightning cut across the clouds beyond the Phoenix skyline. Nothing else stirred. “You all understand. I’m under orders to button it.”

At least about the Redaction’s return, but the CO had said nothing about Mavis’s occupation. David counted on his men being smart enough to listen to the silence.

A few more grunts later and the remaining handful of men in his squad gathered around his bunk.

Robertson paced at the foot of David’s bunk, cursing in French and Spanish. “The fucking asswipe doesn’t want us to know he visited a doctor.”

“If it’s Monday, the CO’s visiting a doctor.” Ray muttered and silhouettes around him nodded. “We just add another tick mark to the tally.”

“Not that kind of doctor.” David felt the rustle of his men moving in the darkness. One froze, then another, and another until they were all still. Some caught on faster than others. “Her license plate was B-U-G-D-R-2.”

“Bugs?” Ray snorted. “It’s the fucking rats that are getting into everything.”

“Not that kind of bug, you mental midget.” Robertson spat. “The Redaction is back.” The word slithered through the darkness as one spoke of the boogeyman. “That’s what was up with the fancy computer and solar cell.”

“The CO wasn’t happy to part with them either.” David smiled at the foul expression on his superior’s face. “Doc called the Surgeon General himself and made Lynch hand the stuff over.”

Robertson whistled over the men’s chuckles. “Doc has balls, big, brass ones, to take on the CO. She’s lucky he didn’t threaten to shoot her.”

“He did.” David clenched his fists. He’d never felt as helpless as when he stood in the hallway and listened to Colonel Asshole threaten her. Mavis Spanner was either incredibly brave or stupid. Or both. “She didn’t back down, but calmly picked up the phone and dialed the SG.”