Linda Andrews - Extinction Level Event

“Now see here, Sergeant Major.” Connie shook her finger in his direction. “Just because Manny isn’t kin, doesn’t mean you can take him from us.”

“Ma’am.” The sergeant major pushed his hat off and scratched his head. “I don’t have any intention of taking Manny anywhere. I just have some questions to ask.”

Connie crossed her arms over her flat chest. “Don’t try anything, laddie. We’re watching you.”

The lead soldier shook his head while another chuckled. The sergeant major silenced him with a look. “You have your ration card?”

Manny pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. It trembled in his hand. Were they going to take his food, too?

The sergeant major flipped it open. “You’re three weeks behind. Still have the two little ones, Lucia and Jose?”

Taking a deep breath, Manny counted to three. Routine questions. They’re just routine questions. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Acquire any… cousins from California?” Before he could speak the soldier raised his hand. “Because three days after you failed to show up for ration distribution, we picked up the remains of an older woman with three known dependents. One was subsequently accounted for, but two remain at large. And if memory serves, they weren’t old enough to be on their own.”

Manny nodded. “Mary and Michael. I found them after the Aspero… After their grandmother died.”

The sergeant major nodded and scratched their names on Manny’s card. “Good to know. Ray, he’s behind on his supplies and has two others besides. See that he gets caught up.”

The ration card slapped the table before sliding to the edge. Ray caught it before it fell.

Connie backtracked until she found the wagon. Its wheels squeaked as she pulled it toward the table. “So what have you for us today?”

“Relax, kid.” The sergeant major blocked his view of the table. “That old lady could take on the whole platoon and win.”

“I heard that, Sergeant Major.” Connie chuckled as her hands groped for the cards.

Ray moved them into her path before jumping onto the truck and shouting for items.

“Manny.” The sergeant major snapped his fingers. A muscular soldier appeared with a paper bag and shoved it into the other man’s hand. Breaking the seal on the bag, the sergeant major peered inside. “What can you tell me about Taylor and Epstein?”

“The Aspero wanted the rations. All of them.” Manny licked his dry lips. His eyes stung. He blinked them. What was he crying for? He hadn’t been there.

“The ones with the snakehead tags?”

“Yeah. Rini says they came to take the food and Mr. Taylor fought back. They went after Basia, er, Mrs. Epstein because she’d already gotten her supplies.”

The sergeant major pulled out a ration card. Brown and red stained the cover and warped the pages. “Is that when Irina Epstein was assaulted?”

“No.” Manny scrubbed his face. Stupid tears. “The Aspero wanted Basia to trade Rini to them for the rations.”

The pencil in the sergeant major’s hands snapped in two. “How bad is her cousin, Stanley? Does he need a medic?”

Manny gasped for breath. Poor Stash. They’d just left him there. For the rats.

“Son of a —” The sergeant major cleared his throat. “Where can we find him?”

“My house.” Manny wiped his nose on his sleeve. Snot glistened before soaking into the hoodie. “Seven-oh-nine Sage Brush lane. H—He’s in my parents’ bedroom. Rini dragged him to us.”

The sergeant major set his hand on Manny’s shoulder and squeezed. “Listen. The Marines didn’t smoke all the bastards. So if things get bad here, I need you to get everyone to Thirty-Fifth and Bell. You may have to camp out so be prepared.” The soldier dropped the bloody ration card back into the bag. “Ray add Irina Epstein, minor, to Saldana’s list of dependents.”

Manny backed away. That was it. He’d made it without blabbing about the woman’s body.

“Sure thing, Sergeant Major.” Jumping to the ground, Ray plucked the last card from Connie’s hand and scribbled on it. The table was now piled high with sacks and cans. Henry began heaving them into the wagon. “Another order of flour, beans, sugar, rice, oats and powdered milk. Plus, two cans of peaches.”

Connie shuffled the ration cards before rubber banding them together. “No chocolate?”

“Sorry, ma’am. We—”

The sergeant major pulled a beige MRE bag from his trouser leg pocket. Reaching inside, he pulled out a handful of red wrappers. “Skittles. And some cookies.”

“Close enough.” Connie clapped her hands.

After shutting the bag, the sergeant major tossed the treats to Henry. “One more thing.” The soldier pulled a piece of paper out of his waistband. Using the sharpened end, he scrawled ten numbers across the back. “You got a working phone?”

“Landline at Connie’s.” Finished loading the wagon, Henry rolled over to them. “Comes and goes with the power.”

“This is my number. Let me know if you have to bug out. We may be able to give you a lift.” He handed Henry the paper.

“Will do, Sergeant Major.” Henry folded the note and stuck it in his shirt pocket. “Take care now.”

Manny jogged over to the wagon. He’d done it. Smiling, he grabbed the handle of the wagon. His thighs strained as he pulled. Finally, it budged.

“Get that gate open, Connie.” Henry snapped. “Don’t know if that grandson of yours has the strength to get that thing moving again.”

Irina placed her hand on the sack of flour and pushed. “They’re such big containers. How do you know how much to give?”

The wagon moved faster over the asphalt and Manny was able to stand upright, instead of at an angle. On the street behind Henry, the soldiers loaded up the table and climbed back in the trucks.

Connie finished tapping in the code to open the gate. As it slid open, she slowly walked forward. “Oh, we have that down pat. A coffee can full of rice, beans and oats. But only a margarine tub of powdered milk.”

Henry wheeled in front of her, and she set her hand on the back of his seat. “We usually keep all the flour and make it into bread using the sour-dough starter Mildred has going.”

“Fresh baked bread tonight.” Connie glanced over her shoulder at them. Her cloudy eyes sparkled. “Tuesdays are my favorite.”

Henry guided her through the opening. “And we’re having stew to go with it.”

Puffing, Irina straightened and held her side. “Manny can cook. He makes the best beans and rice.”

“Can he?” Once through the gate, Connie led them to the right.

He flushed. “I was a short order cook before…”

He stopped. Sweat beaded his forehead. God, he’d almost told them about being sent away for manslaughter.

“Well,” Henry piped into the silence. “We can’t let your skills go rusty. Now that the Redaction is over, you’ll want to get another job.”

“And Mildred will be glad to get a break.” Connie led them across the street to a two-story ranch with a slate gray roof. No weed, bush or tree marred the plain gravel front yard. Cane sweeping side to side, she led them up the driveway to the small portico. “This is Denise Power’s house.”

Henry scooted around her and pressed the bell. Once. Twice. Deep chimes resonated inside.

Manny unzipped his jacket, and then zipped it back up. Was this the home of the dead woman? Was she even now being a rat treat in her backyard? And what of the man? The killer that threw her bloody body off the balcony. Was he still around, waiting to strike? Jesus Christ. He should have told the soldiers. They could have caught the guy.

“Probably still in bed.” Henry grumbled, pressing the bell twice more.