Linda Andrews - Extinction Level Event

“Your faithful minions.” He released her and paused, increasing the distance between them. “Some of the men are sick again.”

“Yes, they would be.” Mavis nodded but kept her gaze on the white-tiled floor until her eyes adjusted to the bright lights. Stepping out of the short hallway, she glanced around the great room.

In the kitchen, General Lister coughed into the crook of his arm. The Commander of Luke Air Force Base sucked ice from the red plastic cup in his hand.

By the arcadia door, two other men and one woman, each with a shiny caduceus pinned to their lapels, glared at the tablet in her hand.

Mavis cleared her throat. “Gentlemen and lady. Before you begin your questions, I wish to know how many of you have flea bites.”

All of them raised their hands.

She took a steadying breath. Of course all of them would have bites. They were out on the lines with the fleas and rats. Fortunately, not all were sick. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to see them.”

The Marine and airman commanders exchanged glances.

David shifted to stand beside her. “I only have one.” He tugged the shirt from his waistband. Pink skin ate at the edges of the brown scab.

Pink and brown. A normal bite. Mavis raised her hand before curling her fingers and forcing her hand down to her side. No touching. “And you’re not sick, correct?”

“Nope.”

“Now see here.” The male doctor on the right broke away from the medical trio. His black hair stood in spikes on his head. “We know what bug bites look like.”

Mavis ignored him. Doctors and their egos. “General, you’re sick. May I see your bites?”

“Will it help get a handle on this damn disease?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Lister shrugged out of his jacket then rolled up his sleeve. His forearm was covered with bites. Most were the expected brown and pink. A few were red and black. “I’ve been treating them with the ointment like you said.”

Mavis crooked her finger at the doctors. “Please examine his arm.”

The males glanced at it before frowning at her.

The woman medical officer took a moment longer before nodding. “The pink and brown are from an uninfected bite whereas the red ulcers are from fleas carrying the Plague bacteria. Both respond to the triple antibiotic ointment.”

Her reasoning was sound. Too bad it was flawed. “Have any of you swabbed the bites?”

“No point to it,” The spiky haired doctor sneered. “USAMRIID is two months behind in processing.”

“Three months.” The woman shrugged. “I sent five samples on the plane that has been providing your jump drives.”

Mavis smiled. At last something had gone her way. Rubbing her hands together, she crossed to the dining room table and set her thumbs on the biometric lock of her laptop. “Give me your sample numbers.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The woman tugged the computer tablet from Spiky Hair’s hand and focused on the screen.

Lister cleared his throat and began to roll down his sleeve. “How does this explain what is going on?”

Spiky Hair snapped his fingers. “You’re going to check the bug’s resistance. That would explain why the antibiotics aren’t working and our people are getting sick again.”

“We don’t have the time.” Mavis opened her laptop. The screen blinked to life. She clicked on the US AMRIID link. She entered her password and waited for clearance. The female doctor slipped the tablet along the table until it stopped next to Mavis’s hand. She typed in the case numbers. “If I’m right, those relapsing will be dead within thirty-six hours.”

“Dead!” Lister shouted. “What the hell works that fast?”

“Inhalation anthrax.” Mavis’s announcement blanketed the room with silence. Using her clearance, she requested the eight-hour presumptive anthrax test and the longer confirmatory one on the five samples. After opting for a phone call with the results, she closed the window and brought up Homeland Security’s website.

Lister sank onto the back of the sofa. “Every soldier has been vaccinated against Anthrax.”

“Not everyone has had the six shot series or the yearly booster.” Mavis slipped through the security portal and brought up the bioterrorism monitoring stations located throughout the valley. “The National Guard usually only receives the first couple of shots while on active duty.”

She met David’s gaze. He must have had the entire series not to get sick. Please let him have had all the shots.

He shrugged. “I was regular military before I joined the Reserves. I’ve had the full series plus my annual boosters.”

The Air Force commander stepped forward. “I’ve had all my shots and I’m still sick.”

Lister raised his hand while coughing. “The same.”

“The vaccine has never been tested against Inhalation Anthrax in real life, only in a laboratory, in a controlled environment.” Mavis clung to the theory. A few anomalies would not destroy a perfectly good working hypothesis. “It would explain why the soldiers recovered.”

The female doctor reclaimed her tablet computer. Her fingers flew over the screen. “The first victim had three shots. The second had the whole series. Ditto with the third. And the fourth.”

“Skip to the deaths.” Mavis pushed her laptop until the screen was face-up. She tapped the air monitoring station closest to Luke Air Force Base.

“No vaccine for fatality number one. Or two.” She cleared her throat. “Two for victim three.”

Numbers popped up on Mavis’s laptop. She enlarged the detail under Anthrax for the last month. Monday and Tuesday recorded spikes in the thousands. The numbers had been slowly dropping since. But they were still high enough to kill every man, woman and child in the Valley of the Sun. Maybe the rest of the state as well.

“Son of a bitch!” Lister clutched his head. “Why didn’t anyone tell us?”

“We still have cattle around the valley. So a few hits aren’t that unusual.” Mavis clicked on the asterisk by yesterday’s reading. “They thought the high readings were a malfunction and took it out of service until it could be repaired.”

Lister raked a hand down his face. “Cattle did this?”

“I think this is the real Ash Pneumonia.” Mavis closed out the screen. She had enough proof to go to Miles. “Monday brought the cold front down from the North. That jet stream passed over the fires in China and brought it here.”

“Monday was the day the public gathering ban was lifted,” David whispered. “And the civilians have never had any shots.”

Every serviceman and woman focused on Mavis. She felt the ball of ice in her chest. “I’ve had my shots. Sunnie…hasn’t.”

“We’ll take care of her.” David stroked the back of her hand. “She’ll get better.”

Lister rubbed his jaw. “Was it a deliberate attack from China?”

Mavis shrugged. That was the million-dollar question. But too many had died to make this into a grudge match. “I don’t know. But I think they burned their cities to stop the spread of Anthrax, not the influenza. Our outbreak is probably an accident.”

David cleared his throat. “If they burned the bug, why is it here?”

“Anthrax spores are extremely hardy.” Mavis checked the clock on the corner of her desktop. Five-twenty-nine A.M. Seven-twenty-nine on the East coast. Miles should be up. She activated the video-conference link. “Ask the British. A hundred years ago they played with biological warfare on one of their islands. After the exercises ended, they tried to cleanse the island with fire, formaldehyde, you name it, they tried it. The bug lives on. I believe they still have standing orders to shoot anyone who dares step onto the island.”