Jacqueline Druga - Omnicide

Art hesitated in answering. “I don’t know, Dad. The spores need a living host. Fungi continuously adapt and mutate. I know from testing previously it does not attach to plants or grass.”

“If it kills everything it attaches to, it has to die out. Right?”

“I would think. I am not going to say for sure, though, because there may be something out there that can be a carrier and spread this thing all over again. For that,” Art said, “I just want to be ready.”

“Son of a gun,” Kit cursed out loud, staring at the computer in the police station. “Thirty-eight percent? Things loaded faster in 1995.” He tossed a pencil and sat back. He was bored, but at least the phone had stopped ringing.

The questions were driving him nuts.

“If I have an open wound will I get it?”

“Only if you’re exposed.”

“I was in Seaver last week…”

“Can I just hang out all night at Brass Balls and Beers?”

He had been going all day with it. They’d discovered seven people, all women that had developed symptoms. All clients of Patty’s. He and Officer Floyd were the only two officers left in town. The chief never returned, and the other officer happened to be in Flagstaff.

Floyd took two men up to Miller Run Road. They were on deer patrol. Kit was fearful the deer could make their way into town, and they had to be eliminated before that happened.

It was crazy.

He did laugh when he thought back to earlier in the day when he started driving around making the announcement. Kit was less than enthusiastic.

“This is a county health emergency. You are advised to stay in your home for the next twenty-four hours and avoid all contact.”

He passed Cass just outside Brass Balls and Beers and she waved him down.

“You’re not really getting through,” she said. “No one is even listening to you.”

“I’m doing what I can. You have a better idea, by all means.” He showed her the microphone.

“Oh, really?” she asked excitedly. “Can I?”

“Be my guest.”

Cass got in the car.

“Attention Griffin, there is an airborne contagion sweeping across the nation. Stay inside. Stay alive. Report any suspicious symptoms to the Griffin Police Station. You’ll be informed what do to. Stay inside.”

She had a tone of dramatic seriousness to her. Kit didn’t think that would work either until he returned the station and the phone rang off the hook.

Now it was quiet. He supposed everyone was sleeping or getting close to it.

The dangling bell above the door jingled and Kit looked up. “You’re supposed to stay home.”

“Oh, please, I haven’t been home all day,” Cass said, walking into the station. “I’ve been at Brass Balls and Beers answering the calls.”

“People are calling there?” Kit asked.

“Oh sure, they knew I was there. Anyhow, between that and Ada digging plants and herbs, mixing strange concoctions for Art, I’ve been busy.”

“Anything working?”

“I don’t know. I do know Mary Wentworth and Cleo Smith are bad. Worse than the others.”

“That’s sad to know. Why are you here?”

“Go home.”

“What?”

“Go home, Kit, your son is there waiting on his dinner and his father. He’s scared. He doesn’t say it, but he is. Go home.”

“I would love to be with my son. I can’t leave the station.”

“You leave it every night.”

“Yeah,” Kit said. “But I turn it over to county. County is not answering. We should have an official member of the force in here.”

“Floyd?” Cass asked.

“He’s stopping any infected deer.”

“So, okay. Make me a deputy.”

Kit laughed.

“I’m serious.”

“Cass, only the chief can do that and it needs to be signed by the mayor. The chief isn’t coming back. I think we know that.”

“So does that mean my restraining order is now null and void?”

“Oh, Cass, stop.”

“Kit you need to go home.”

Kit sighed out, rocked a few times in his chair, and stood. “Fine.” He went back to the chief’s office and returned handing a badge to Cass. “You’re hereby deputized. I’ll get Mark to make it official in the morning.”

“Do I get a gun?”

“No!” Kit snapped.

“Can I carry my own?”

“You don’t need a gun to monitor the station.”

“Yeah, but we’re the one live spot in the world. A bright light in a dark world.”

“Christ, Cass, so dramatic.”

“I’m serious,” Cass said. “What if surviving marauders come in here with their lawlessness and…”

Kit tossed her keys. “Only if that happens. You can hit the armory room in the back.”

“So you’re going home?”

“Yes, thank you. And do me a favor, sit behind my desk. I’m waiting on a webpage to load.”

Cass walked over to his computer. “Sports again?”

“No. The news.” Kit headed toward the door. “Call me if there are any problems. Thank you, Cass. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome, and Kit? Relax some okay. Play a game with Kat. Get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day.”

“Yeah, I know and I am not looking forward to it. I’m trying not to think about it. Tomorrow we find out if we really are the only bright light left in this world. I honestly…” Kit tapped the door. “I’m scared to find out.”

With a ding of the bell, Kit was gone before Cass could say, “Me too.” She sat back in his chair, thinking about the next day, watching that progress bar hold steady at thirty-nine percent, and praying constantly in her mind that they were only out of touch and that communication was down, that the rest of the world was still just as bright as Griffin. Inwardly, Cass knew that probably wasn’t the case.

May 7

The police station was quiet, all that needed to be had been said in the moments after Kit left.

Cass argued she didn’t think he should go alone, but his rebuttal had merit. If indeed it ended up being dangerous then only one person in Griffin would be affected.

Art was there, waiting to find out, as was Mark.

Kit asked Art, “Are you sure? Are you really sure it’s safe? We’re sending him to Seaver.”

“He’s going on his own. That was his decision and you know that,” Art said. “And it’s safe. I’d bet my life on it. I know the spores die off.”

Art didn’t stay long, he had work to do and he and Craig still had two patients holding on.

Oddly, Lena was there. She was using the land lines and fax. She had Ada making calls as well. She’d come up with a plan. Cass thought it was a good one. She had enough people in her phone’s contacts—business acquaintances, friends, publicists, chefs, and even fans. They spanned the globe. Some she didn’t even know. That didn’t matter, there were enough that someone out there somewhere would answer.

She wrote down numbers for Ada, then took her phone to the station.

Cass watched her. Lena didn’t look like the same woman she’d met two days earlier. Her hair was in a ponytail, she didn’t wear makeup. Not that she needed it, she was naturally beautiful, but it wasn’t the Lena she projected to everyone.

She tucked a falling strand of hair behind her ear and picked up the phone again. She looked at her cell, then dialed the number.

It was the same routine. Lift, look, dial, listen… hang up.

With each failed attempt her face grew more drawn. Cass knew the reason behind Lena’s diligence to reach someone. It wasn’t to see if the world was alive, it was for hope that her children were alive. Lena hadn’t said it, Cass didn’t need her to. She knew all too well that desperate, devastated look and burden that Lena carried.