Linda Andrews - Extinction Level Event

The line went dead.

Fresh kill. David’s mouth dried. He swallowed. Hard.

“Bad news?”

His fingers trembled as he closed his phone. “We’ve got fresh meat. Could be Patient Zero.”

Manny’s heart battered his ribcage as he stopped. Caught between fight or flight, his muscles twitched. Run away! But the food. He couldn’t give it up. The wagon’s metal handle squeaked against his damp palm. Would the man kill him? Beat him to a pulp like he had done to the woman?

“Well?” A woman’s voice cut through his fear.

Manny exhaled the air that had congealed in his lungs. A woman, not a man. Not that it made him any safer. Loosening his grip on the wagon, he glanced over his shoulder.

“You can speak, can’t you?” Gray hair streaked across one wrinkled cheek before a liver-spotted hand batted it away. Cloudy brown eyes shifted back and forth like marbles in an earthquake.

His attention drifted from the loose flesh hanging along her neck to the white lace collar down to the red-tipped cane. Blind. She was blind. Maybe all was not lost. “Y-yes. I can speak.”

“Good.” She thumped the cane on the cement path. “There are enough impaired folks in the neighborhood, without adding a deaf-mute to the mix.”

Manny’s grip tightened on the handle. Should he leave? She seemed ignorant of the fact that he didn’t belong here. Neither did she seem to know that he’d been shopping at her neighbor’s house. But if he moved, she’d hear the wheels squeak. His stomach urged him to make a decision. He sucked on his bottom lip while leaning toward the home he picked out for him, the niños and Irina.

“Not much for talking, are you?” She swept her cane from side to side. It hit the side of the wagon with a thunk.

He winced.

“Humph, thought I heard Stacy’s wagon. Know that squeak anywhere.” With a flick of her wrist, the cane skimmed the wagon’s stolen contents. “Liberated lots of goodies, have you?”

“I—” The words swelled in his mouth and stuck to his dry tongue. Would she call the police now? If they hauled him away what would happen to the niños ? To Irina?

“Told the others we should have done that ages ago.” Leaving the wagon alone, she used the cane to walk forward. Each foot moved with assurance, purpose, despite the buckling sidewalk. “Better us than the rats. The rats can eat garbage and like it.”

Hope rioted in his chest. Could he really have heard right? Could this gringa be willing to let him go? “You’re not going to report me?”

She latched onto his forearm. Despite the knobby joints, her grip was strong. “Why should I? Besides, the bigger crime is all that food going to waste. That’s all you took, isn’t it? No tellies, mobiles, or other goodies. Just the necessities.”

Manny eyed the lanterns and stove. Definitely necessary. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Well then, come along.” She tugged on his arm, pulling him out of the common area but south when the niños and Irina were north. “The others will be wondering what happened to me.”

Others? One old woman he could handle, but more people… He scanned the direction she pulled him in. Aside from the rats scampering across the street, no one seemed about. But she could still be bait, with her age to con him into making a mistake. He pulled back, nearly jerking her off her feet. “I—”

“Oh, that’s right.” Her nails dug into his arm as she teetered on her white granny shoes. Turning her lined face toward him, she blinked her cloudy eyes. “You came with companions, didn’t you?”

His heart skipped a few beats. She knew about the others? But how? According to his map, the houses around the one he’d picked should be empty. As for their arrival, the battle between the Aspero and the Marines should have disguised any sound they’d made.

She cocked her head to the side. Pink shown through the wispy curls swirling around her scalp. “Did you have anything to do with the noise last night?”

He started. How did she know what he was thinking? Popi always said blind folks were special. Could they be mind readers?

A smile smoothed the wrinkles from her lips. “Reminded me of my days in London during the war. That’s World War Two, not w-Wii.” She chuckled at the reference to the popular gaming system. “Although, my grandson tells me there’s lots of war games on it.”

Grief hung from the corners of her features.

So, she’d lost someone too. Who hadn’t? The government had said the Redaction had killed teens through to middle-aged adults, yet so many others seemed to be missing. Manny pulled himself from his thoughts. What had she been talking about? The fighting last night. He nodded. Dumb ass. She couldn’t see. “We weren’t involved in it, but we used the distraction to cross the street.”

“Smart, lad.” She patted his arm.

He straightened. For a moment, he felt like he had when he’d brought home straight A’s, before the car accident, before juvenile hall, before the Redaction.

“Guess you’d have to be pretty smart to have survived this long without your folks.” She thumped her cane. “Well, lead on. We’ll need to gather everyone up. There’s a lot to do today.”

Manny’s feet remained stuck on the sidewalk. Could he trust her? She didn’t seem to have an agenda. And besides she was old. He could easily overpower her and get away. Beating up old women… He shook his head. Why had he bothered to survive if he’d turned into a monster?

A breeze rattled the dried seed pods against the curb. He closed his eyes and the rising sun painted his lids pink. What choice did he have? He couldn’t leave her alone; she was blind. Shifting his arm, he tugged her north along the rows of cream-colored houses with terra cotta roofs. Weeds laid siege to the once pristine desert landscaping. The wagon’s wheels squeaked behind them.

“I do hope you didn’t choose one of the outer ring of houses.” Her cane scratched across the sidewalk and swished through the tufts of grass poking through the cracks. “Infested with rats, don’t you know?”

“Rats.” Manny watched a black one, the size of a well-fed house cat; clean its whiskers as it watched them from atop its garbage heap. Glancing down, he searched her face for a dirty Mexican slur. “Every place has rats since the city stopped collecting the garbage.”

She nodded and swept her hair out of her face again. “But the empty places have more than others.”

That was true. Certainly, the two houses he’d visited had been infested. Would the one he’d chosen be the same? Or worse? Instead of leaving Irina with the niños , he should have gone inside to check. Surely, breakfast could have waited a little longer. Manny followed the curve of the street and the two-story house came into view. Nothing stirred into the front windows. Good. Irina and the niños were hiding.

Too bad they’d already been discovered.

“Mildred and Henry had to move in with me because they were quite overrun.” Her cane thumped the fire hydrant. “Not that I mind the company, but they do move things about. And I’m used to having things just so. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Not really. Slowing, he frowned at the house. Surely, someone should be looking out the windows to see if he was coming home. He stumbled over a rise in the sidewalk. Had something happened to them?

She patted his arm again. “I don’t like using the cane at home. And I don’t need to, as long as things don’t get moved about.”

“Uh-huh.” Manny stopped across the street. Should he leave her here while he went for the others?

“Oh, we’re here already?” She straightened the green jacket of her tracksuit. “Did you pick the Paiks’?” She point to the house on her right before aiming her cane at the two-story house across the street. His house. “Or the Schultzs’?”