Jacqueline Druga - Omnicide

He liked Mark Wilson. He was a good guy and Kit never had any problems with him professionally or personally. Although Mark was ten years older so Kit really never got to know him well until he became mayor… and Cass’ husband.

“Well?” Mark asked.

Kit shook his head. “She’s gone.”

“What about this fungus?”

“I honestly didn’t see it, but that could be me. I’m no expert,” Kit replied.

“What do we do?” Mark asked.

“Art said not to touch the body for twenty-four hours, then I suppose we can call Fillman’s and have them come and get her. Brian and Patty too.”

“And just bury them like nothing happened?”

“Yeah, I suppose. I mean, these are our people, Mark. This town is small enough to do that. Fillman’s has been taking care of that since before our time.”

“Jesus, Kit.” Mark shook his head. “Are we sure? I mean, I am not questioning these deaths. I mean this crisis. This is Griffin. “

“And we’re all thinking the same thing,” Kit said. “We don’t know. Just because we can’t hear or read anything doesn’t mean that’s all gone. Hell, remember last October when we were down for four days?”

Mark released a fast, sharp breath. “Yeah, everyone was convinced there was some sort of alien invasion. No one wanted to leave town to find out.”

“No one did.”

“You wanted to,” Mark said.

“And you wouldn’t allow it. Even though you knew it wasn’t real and it drove me nuts.”

“Yes,” Mark said. “However, it was the most excitement we had in a while.”

“Where in the hell did that come from anyhow?”

“The damn Times. Cass and her stories. I mean, yes, it was just a ‘what if’ piece, but still, sent everyone into a frenzy.”

“I don’t think this is the same thing,” Kit said. “And I will go out and see.”

Mark nodded. “We’re gonna have to. We have physical proof that something is happening and a scientist claiming it’s the end of the world.”

“Two nights ago, Brad got in that accident,” Kit said. “Cass and Brian along with Eb said a sick deer went nuts and caused it.”

“But that was before the massive extermination attempt.”

“It was, but the government has been dropping in small doses and areas the last three days. Harrison’s Nectarine farm got sprayed Sunday afternoon.”

“How do you know?”

“County called, said they were blocking off Miller Run Road sixteen miles up.”

“So that would make sense with the deer.”

“Could,” Kit said. “Small amounts—probably a kill radius a lot smaller than we’re dealing with now. And before you ask, I tried to call Harrison. Nothing.”

“Damn it.” Mark paced a few circles and then grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. “Where is our scientist now?”

“With Cass at Ada’s.”

“His father, the man that came with him?”

“At the motel. They’re gonna set up a few rooms for testing and patients if we have anyone. Listen, Cass called.”

Immediately and excitedly, Mark grabbed for his cell phone. “Are the phones working?”

Kit cringed. “No, she called me in there.”

“What in Christ name is wrong with that woman? I get it she needed to reach you, but goddamn, get in the truck and drive to you. What did she want?”

“Her, Ada, and this scientist think we should go into a lockdown. Stay at home. Twenty-four hours. By then the danger will have passed. Tell folks there is a county medical crisis, to report any symptoms to the police department. Do not leave, help will come to them. And to shelter where they are for twenty-four hours. Give them an opportunity to go home, or stay put.”

“Well, that does make sense. I guess. Easier to drive around making that announcement over and over than go door to door, right?”

“Exactly.”

Mark reached out and gave a swat to Kit’s arm. “I’ll man the phones at the station, while you do just that.”

“What? Ride around using the PA to make the announcement?”

“That’s the only way. Check in with me,” Mark said. “I’m sure the radio works.” Mark walked to his own car.

“Hey, Mark, don’t you think as Mayor, you ought to be the one doing this?”

Mark opened his driver’s door. “People like me, Kit. I doubt they’ll even notice they have to stay in if I do it. If they’re gonna get angry about the order, I’d rather have you do it, since they already have a stick up their ass about you,” he said with a smile, just as he got in his own car.

Kit was dumbfounded. Mark was joking. People liked Kit, he thought. But he didn’t know for sure. No one in Griffin really said much or complained. That was a good thing, because he truly didn’t expect them to say much or complain about the lockdown either. Typically, they’d just brush it off as lack of communication with the outside world. Kit believed they’d handle it. He hoped, because he didn’t want a repeat of last October and the ridiculous alien invasion drama.

Bill wasn’t a science guy. He left that up to his son and Bill was proud, but he knew Art was down on himself, and just wanted to conquer the thing he’d created.

It was a beast.

One didn’t have to be a scientist to know that.

Most spores on fungi fall off and die within minutes; the spores on Art’s fungus lived a day. Long enough to find a new host.

Art had made the hotel into his own research center and clinic. The owner wasn’t too agreeable at first until the police made the rounds announcing the emergency. Then the owner offered whatever was needed.

It was getting late; Bill had tried unsuccessfully to get a signal. He wanted to get in the car and drive until he got one, but it wasn’t safe, so he paced a lot around that motel parking lot, looking at his watch, as Art went in and out of rooms to treat those seven people that had been infected by Patty the nail technician. He didn’t venture far from the office because Bill was on phone duty. Ada was calling constantly with suggestions.

She even dropped off a concoction that stunk to high heaven. Bill chuckled when he remembered Art getting frustrated with her.

“I appreciate it,” Art said.

“Soak cotton and place it on the wound, soak it.”

Art smiled politely. “Ada, honestly, we’re not talking nature where the frontier way can kick its butt. This is a manipulated fungus. I think only science can beat it.”

“Give the frontiers way a shot. I’ll be back with more things to try.”

Time was of the essence. Art could only guess how long it took to get into the blood stream and all the patients had been infected by way of skin. He and Dr. Craig were working overtime trying things. Everything.

After grabbing a beer from the motel owner’s fridge, Bill spotted Art coming out of room nine, making his way to room twelve, where he had a lab set up.

“Art, hold up,” Bill hollered and made his way over.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Take a break.”

“I can’t. I will, but not right now.”

“How is everything?”

“Well, number nine doesn’t seem to be progressing. I have a skin culture I want to look at. I think we may have paused it. If that’s the case, we just need to figure out how to stop it and cure it.”

“Stinky tincture?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, how about that?”

“Ada is the type of woman who won’t let you live that down.”

“Don’t I know it,” Art said. “Maybe she has viable ideas for stopping this all together. You know she never got the pred bugs.”

“Really? That’s amazing. Art, I understand you wanting to help these women if you can. But after their fates are sealed, it’s over, right?”