Jacqueline Druga - The Flu

“Millions,” Dustin answered.

“I thought flies died when it was cold?”

“Not if they have something to keep them going,” Dustin said.

“It has got to be the biggest maggot feast in the world,” Chris commented.

“Bet you it’s gross looking.”

Chris shuddered in disgust. “You know, if we don’t do something about them maggots we are gonna be infested with flies.”

“Oh, man, attack of the killer flies. Can you see it?” Dustin shook his head. “Hungry flies, huge from the unlimited supply of carnage, seek other means of food. Us.”

“We should write the movie,” Chris suggested. “Sell it to Hollywood.” Chris smiled for a moment then looked sadly at his brother. “Dustin? Will there be a Hollywood anymore?”

“Of course there will be. And if by some reason there isn’t, someone has to start it back up again, right? Might as well be us.”

“We can do that. And you know what? Think about it. No Hollywood, no more wrestling. Which means…”

“We can be the new superstars of wrestling.” Dustin high fived his brother. “That is like the coolest thought to ever come out of this flu.”

“But being serious. We should tell Lars about all them flies.”

“I’m sure Lars knows,” Dustin assured. “I mean, Mick told us they are gonna burn the bodies end of next week. That means they’ll burn the flies.”

“Why won’t he burn them now?”

“Mick said because there are too many. The smoke will dis-a-something or other right over to Lodi. But you want my opinion on why they’re waiting?”

“Yeah.”

Dustin dropped his voice to a whisper as if someone could hear them on that roof. “Remember how the high school used to have big celebration bonfires after the games?” Chris nodded. “Well, the burning bodies will be like Lodi’s celebration bonfire.”

“Huh?” Chris scratched his head. “Why do you say that?”

“End of next week is four weeks. Four weeks means what?” Dustin asked.

“End of the shut-in.”

Dustin smiled. “Exactly. Walls down. Lodi open.”

“Sort of like why they are having the fall festival tomorrow.”

“Yep. Day after tomorrow we will be declared officially flu-free. We made it through, not a single person caught it. Even though Mom thought she had it every other day. Not a single person died. So why not have the fall festival tomorrow?”

“You know what, Dustin?” Chris said softly. “Even though the festival won’t have all the cool food and stuff, it will be the best and coolest festival ever.”

“Why do you say that?” Dustin asked.

“Because it will be the first time ever, we have a really good reason to celebrate.”

“You’re right.” Dustin stared out to the wall of bodies that underscored Chris’ sentiments. “You are absolutely right.”

The static and snow that blasted on the television ended with the push of a button, then Mick walked behind the bar and picked up the phone. He listened for a moment then hung up.

Very seriously, arms folded, Lars shifted his eyes from Tom and Patrick to Mick. “Why do you do that?” he asked. “Every single morning for the past week, you do that before we have our powwow.”

“I like to have my facts straight.” Mick pulled up a chair and sat down. “And before I make the daily assumption that everything is shut down, I want to make sure it isn’t back up and we look like fools.”

Tom moaned. “Mick, you’re an intelligent man but you sound goddamn stupid making a comment like that.”

“Why?” Mick asked. “You can’t rule it out.”

Before any smart comments could be made, Lars lifted his hand. “Mick has a point. Even though it is farfetched, it could happen. What did Henry tell us?”

Patrick bobbed his head in thought. “A major restructuring process is being done in Washington.”

“Hence our means of communication with them,” Lars said. “The military radio. If that’s still running, somewhere, somehow, I believe so is the military.”

“But they ain’t bringing us any more food, are they?” Tom noted. “A working radio ain’t civilization rebuilding.”

“Tom,” Mick said, “not meaning to sound disrespectful, but do you think that this negative attitude and apocalyptic theory-thing may be just wishful thinking because you hate people?”

Tom gasped in offense. “I love people. Just not a lot at one time. That’s why I avoid the festival.”

“Exactly,” Mick said in annoyance. “That’s why I believe, somewhere, things are running again. Maybe out west and we just don’t know. I mean they finished early with the flu.”

“Christ Almighty, Mick,” Tom snapped. “Get your head out of your ass. Henry said the places on the east that had the flu are on the last leg of it. It is over. The government, who promised to supply us with food, hasn’t. Lodi is running because we are making it run. No one else. The only reason we have lights and power is because Jeb Wilson and Buzz Wright are manning the power station twenty-four seven. You and Patrick hit two warehouses last week to stock us. What did you see? No. Wait.” Tom looked at Patrick. “What did you see out there?”

Patrick shook his head. “Nothing. A few people here and there. That’s it.”

Snidely, Tom looked at Mick. “And you make fun of my apocalyptic attitude.”

Lars saw Mick ready to rebut, and he intervened, “As much as I love the energy derived from semi-family bickering,” Lars commented, “we have a point to this covert meeting, and I for one would like to get to it. Now… since Tom brought it up, we need to discuss the food situation.”

“We’re good,” Mick replied. “Fall festival put a little dent in the surplus, but otherwise we can hold up without a problem for another ten days. Then Patrick and I can go back out.”

“But should you two do that?” Lars questioned

“No,” Tom spoke up. “Pretty soon the four weeks will be up. Flu-free world. The nightmare over. But it’s only gonna be starting for Lodi, see. Lodi is gonna wake up to the reality that there’s nothing left. They haven’t a clue Mick and Patrick are bringing in the food. They haven’t a clue that the government abandoned us. All well and fine if everything ends up coming back and the restructuring starts. But what if doesn’t? If it does, there will be a waiting period. A period of time where we are on our own.”

“Exactly,” Patrick rebutted. “They need food. We’ll get it.”

“No.” Tom shook his head. “Yes, they need food. But you have three thousand people in this town who are perfectly capable of helping with that task. Don’t you dare begin to even think of taking it on alone. Don’t do it. Once you start, once you start doing for people, they’ll never do for themselves.”

Lars let out a breath as he sat back in his chair. “Tom has a point. Right now, the people of Lodi are living in a Pleasantville world. They are going about their lives almost as if nothing has happened. I think we’re gonna need to do one more food run, but…” Lars stopped Tom from saying anything, “only after we devise a long-term survival plan. A well-laid out, long-term survival plan. Get together with the mayor and the village council. Start planning it, hashing it out.”

Mick nodded in agreement. “I’ll deal with that. So when do we tell the people of Lodi? Before we devise this outline of survival, or after?”

“Definitely after,” Lars said. “Because in the same breath you tell them the world ended without them knowing, you wanna be able to come right back and give them hope. Besides, coming up with a viable plan could take time, and we don’t want to ruin the celebration behind the fall festival.”