Linda Andrews - Extinction Level Event

Mr. Quartermain coughed into his handkerchief. Once his face returned to a more normal color, he looked her in the eyes. “It that something we should be worried about?”

Thank you, Jesus! Mavis finally had a chance to warn them without panicking them. “Yes, definitely, wear a mask.”

“Ack.” Nani tossed the folded up shovel into her basket. “Never again.”

Justin bounced his front wheel on the pavement. Cans rattled. “We’ve been out here for hours.” He glanced at his grandfather. “And this is the first time she mentions wearing a mask.”

Mr. Quartermain hurumped. “I don’t think you have equipment personally delivered by a full bird colonel if you have loose lips.”

Li maneuvered in front of the boy. “There have been no reported cases in Arizona. We’re okay. Mavis is only telling us as a precaution. She’s been outside longer than anyone, and isn’t wearing a mask. Would she risk her life?”

Guilt clawed at her back like a scourge. Licking her dry lips, Mavis tucked her shaking hands into her pockets. “The truth is I don’t know the level of risk for any of us. I was just brought the information last night.” She crossed her fingers. “And while, Li is right, there haven’t been any cases in Arizona, that doesn’t mean there won’t be. Both the polar and the tropical jet streams merge over China, so it is possible for the ash to reach us.”

“There, you see.” Li set one hand on Justin’s handlebars and gestured toward her with the other. “She’ll tell us if there’s a threat, but she’s not about to panic us with rumor and innuendo, like those websites you visit.”

Mavis squeezed the old man’s arm, felt the play of muscle. “I am bound by confidentiality, and Colonel Lynch threatened to shoot me if I talked out of turn.”

Jasmine gasped. “He can’t do that.”

“He can,” Justin grumbled. “We live in a police state.”

Evan lifted the basket of watery ashes off the ground and lugged it over to Rhea and Pearl’s tandem bicycle. “I’m sure the military and government have our best interests at stake. After all, they’ve kept us fed and going in this crisis.”

Yeah, she’d like to believe that as well. Too bad, the politicians seemed to be putting profit ahead of people. Mavis focused on cleaning the soot off her thumb.

Justin pushed his bike forward until Li let go of the handlebars. “I can’t wait for martial law to be lifted.”

Li raised his hands while walking to his red ten-speed. “When will that be lifted, or is that a state secret?”

Mavis shrugged. “I don’t know.” Justin snorted. Mavis clenched her fists tighter to keep from giving the little twerp the bird. “Really, I don’t. The Ash Pneumonia could end it sooner than expected or extend it.”

The influenza’s return will end it.

Permanently.

“I just want to know when I’ll get back to work.” Rhea adjusted the pails near her bicycle.

Malak tossed the water on the soot stain on the asphalt before his wife scrubbed it.

“That I know.” Evan nested the ash and water pail into the empty water one.

Mavis relaxed as everyone shifted their attention to Evan. He fussed with the buckets some more. Guess if the man couldn’t be breaking the ribbon at triathlons, he needed to find another way to be the center of attention. “Well?”

Evan wiped his hands on his shorts. “The workforce will be fazed back in with those who work in shipping, transport, and factories going back first. Actually, they were allowed back to work several weeks ago. The longshoremen have to clear all that cargo from China.”

Mavis nearly dropped her coffee cup. China. Products from China were already moving through the country, potentially spreading the disease. She took a calming breath. Stop it. With the incubation period in days, cases of the influenza would have shown up by now. She would know by now.

Unless someone was keeping it from her—for economic reasons.

She dismissed the thought. The laboratory network fed directly into the CDC and the Surgeon General’s office. There were no filters and no one would ignore the symptoms.

The goods were clean. Time on the docks had seen to that.

Malak rubbed his chin. “Makes sense if we want items for sale in the stores.”

Nani sat on her trike. “There might be plenty of stuff, but who has money to buy things?”

Evan patted the old woman’s hand. “The government is issuing charge cards—an early tax credit to stimulate the economy.”

Malak took his wife’s broom from her hand and rested the handles on his shoulder. “When is this supposed to happen?”

“Two days.” Evan held up two fingers. “They are the first things the mailmen are supposed to deliver, right after the meds.”

Mavis boxed up her thoughts. She needed to focus on the conversation. What were they talking about? The G-cards. “Like food stamps, they’re limited to food and other staples. Medicine will be allowed as well.”

“But no alcohol.” Evan shook his finger at them. “So don’t even think of stocking up on rubbing alcohol.”

A few people chuckled. Mavis giggled. Evan must be a news junkie to have picked up that line from months ago when talk of the G-cards and the alcohol caveat first came to the front.

Nani tapped on the pedals of her trike. “When do the schools reopen?”

Jasmine caressed her stomach.

Mavis stilled at the universal gesture. Good heavens. Could the woman be pregnant? She glanced at the others. Only Rhea seemed to have noticed the motion.

Rhea shrugged.

“Two weeks.” Malak answered before Evan. “We teachers went back today to begin lesson plans. School will be going year round for the next couple years to catch up.”

Mavis had almost forgotten he taught kindergarten at the nearby elementary school. How many students did he expect back?

“And our social security checks?” Standing, Nani applied a little pressure to the pedal and her bike coasted forward. “When can we get them again?”

Evan scooted forward as she drifted by him. “Supposed to be direct deposited or delivered the same day as the G-cards.”

Nani braked behind Jasmine and Malak. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

Celebration? Mavis popped the cap on her mug and tossed the cold coffee onto the bushes in her yard. Hadn’t they heard what she said about the Ash Pneumonia? Maybe she had downplayed it a little too much. “It’s going to be a while before things get back to normal, perhaps we should conserve our supplies.”

“Party pooper.” Nani honked her horn.

Mavis crossed the scorch mark on the street. She wouldn’t put it past Nani to run up on her heels. “I just don’t think we should use up our supplies.”

“Dear, there is a time to be conservative and time to live.” Releasing the handlebars, Nani threw open her arms and turned her face to the sun. “It’s time to live and celebrate those who didn’t.”

And those who might not survive at all. If her simulations were right, that included most of the people in the cul-de-sac. Dammit, Nani was right! What good was surviving if all you did was fear tomorrow? “Then let’s have it tonight.”

Nani honked her horn twice. “I’ll bring the biscuits.”

Evan pulled the index card from his pocket. “I thought I’d try a bit of that cracker apple pie. If the offer of spices still stands?”

“Oh, yes.” Jasmine clasped her hands. “I’ll make the fried rice while Malak brings the spices to you.”

Mr. Quartermain sidled closer to Mavis. “What are you going to bring?”

“If someone has some gas left, I think I can manage SPAM burgers.” She hated the funky meat product, but Jack had loved it. That was why she’d stockpiled cases and cases of it.