Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I)

by Andrews, Linda

  nymetsfan1K: FU MLKWIT

  MLKWIT: JK. GAL. Mets suck!

  “Nice job.” Sunnie shook her head. MLKWIT always flamed on the boards. “Say you’re just kidding, before telling everyone to get a life and insulting their team.”

  Her cursor blinked next to her screen name sunEbrIt. Rubbing her hands together, she warmed up her fingers then backed out of the thread. After opening the one titled News, she lowered her hands on the keys and typed: RDXON back.

  Her fingers stilled. Should she add more? No one had reported any deaths, just a few coughs and sneezing. Even old man Quartermain had coughed and she hadn’t automatically assumed it was the Redaction. She’d need something more.

  Some proof Aunt Mavis could provide.

  Otherwise they’d dismiss her as a meth-head. Rolling out from under her desk, Sunnie stood up. The oak floors creaked under her feet. Her socks glided over the polished wood as she made her way from the guest bedroom to the great room. “Aunt Mavis?”

  Her aunt sat at the dining room table hunched over her silver laptop. One hand gathered her silver streaked hair into a ponytail when she slouched against the cane back chair.

  Was she running the projections the Surgeon General wanted? Sunnie crept across the tile and craned her neck to see the computer screen. A map of the US ballooned up. Red dots started in New York, Louisiana, and Southern California. The second hand swept around a clock face in the bottom. When the hour hand hit two, the red dots had doubled in size and spread along blue lines identified as Interstates and train tracks.

  By the time, the hour hand hit six, California and the Eastern Seaboard had been swallowed by red. The crimson rainbow in the Louisiana arched into parts of Texas and Mississippi while mushrooming into Oklahoma and Arkansas. The projections for water, sanitation, communication, transportation began to decline.

  Green.

  Yellow.

  Red.

  Then the functionality hit zero.

  Sunnie clamped her hand over her mouth. The scarlet stain couldn’t be the infection. It just couldn’t. If someone infected had left California the moment the ban had been lifted, then the Redaction would already be within the Phoenix city limits.

  At eight o’clock, black freckled the flowing red ink. Soon white numbers bloomed in the dark smudges-one, two, five, twenty-five. By the time the red blanketed the entire mainland, the black numbers had blinked at seventy-two percent on the coasts and the smudges kept spreading.

  Sunnie gripped the back of the sofa to stay on her feet. “Aunt Mavis?”

  This time, her aunt turned in her seat. Color fled her face as she half-rose out of her seat. “Sunnie? Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m just worried.”

  Her aunt didn’t try to dodge the issue of the Redaction like she had the movie premiere and war with North Korea. “How much did you hear?”

  “That it’s back and stronger than ever.” Sunnie traced the grout line with her toe and jerked her head toward the laptop. “I saw the map.”

  Aunt Mavis frowned at the computer. Mainland US was a black blot on the screen. “My predictions are only as good as the Intel I have to base them on.”

  She stopped and curled her toes inside her sock. “So it could be wrong?”

  “Maybe.” Her aunt raked her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. I should get an update later.”

  A number flashed across the blackened continent. Sunnie counted the zeroes, blinked then counted them again. Seven zeroes before the decimal point and two numbers before that.

  One hundred sixty million casualties.

  Did America even have that many citizens left?

  “Is that the first time you’ve run it?”

  Aunt Mavis sank back into her seat, stabbed the enter button on her keyboard and the screen blanked. She quickly pulled up a spreadsheet, linked it to the simulation program then hit the enter key again. “Unfortunately, no.”

  On legs as sturdy as wet noodles, Sunnie stumbled to the table and collapsed into the chair. “But the numbers are getting better each time, right?”

  Her aunt turned the computer so Sunnie could see the map bleed red then blister with black.

  “Worse with each parameter I enter.” Aunt Mavis squeezed her skull between her hands. “And I haven’t even accounted for the coolant rod meltdown at the nuclear power plants, human predation, or toxic events from chemical transports.”

  “Human predation?”

  “Raping, hoarding, killing each other for food or water or the sadistic pleasure of it.” Shadows danced in Aunt Mavis’s eyes. “The indelible stamp of our lowly origins. Except, animals behave better.”

  Her eyes burned as she stared at the screen. “God!”

  “Mother Nature is one pissed off bitch.” Mavis poked the enter button and the black map disappeared.

  “Will anyone survive?” Sunnie sat on her trembling hands. Her heart thudded sluggishly in her chest, like it pumped molasses through her veins instead of blood.

  Aunt Mavis cupped Sunnie’s cheek. “We will survive; so will others.”

  She latched onto her aunt’s warm hand. Not on her own. She’d just lie down and die. “Because you’re so smart. You’ll know what to do.”

  “It’s not the strongest or the smartest that survives, but the one most able to adapt.” Her aunt’s lips twisted into a grimace as she stared at her computer. “We’re going to prove Charles Darwin right. We will make it. You’ll see.”

  Sunnie squeezed her eyes closed and melted against the wooden chair. Tidal waves of fear, uncertainty and helplessness rolled through her. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I know that a positive attitude is the foundation of survival.” Aunt Mavis squeezed Sunnie’s hand.

  Sunnie felt the play of muscle and the strength of bone. She inhaled a shaky breath and pried her fingers free. Positive attitude. She could do that. “Okay. What else?”

  “Rest.” Aunt Mavis closed the laptop and pushed out of her seat. “Right now nothing has really changed for us. We have electricity, running water, and food. So don’t worry about what could happen.”

  She nodded. Positive attitude. Stop worrying. Worrying stresses the immune system. She could do it. She would do it. Her stomach cramped. Most of the time. “Anything else?”

  “That’s a lot for now.” Her aunt shuffled into the open kitchen and reached for the cordless phone. It rang under her hand.

  Sunnie jumped at the loud ringing and pressed her hand to her chest. Good God, she really need to chil-lax. Maybe she’d try those yoga DVDs she’d purchased for her birthday.

  Her aunt looked at the phone before hitting the send button and raising it to her ear. “Miles, I expected you to call me two minutes ago.”

  The muffled sound of speaking slipped into the silent room, but the words were as comprehensible as the adults on her aunt’s Charlie Brown movies.

  “Yes, I’ve run the sims.” Aunt Mavis rubbed at a stain on the linoleum countertop. “Worse. I’ve gotten a ninety-one mortality rate with all factors combined. And I was being optimistic.”

  Ninety-one? Stars danced in the fringes of Sunnie’s vision. Heat blossomed in her chest and blood pulsed in her skull. How are we to survive that?

  “No, they wouldn’t be safe. Alaska is gone, Miles.” Aunt Mavis tucked her hand under her armpit and shivered. “You and I both know containment is about as real as the seven cities of gold.”

  Sunnie twisted in her seat, turning her body toward the hallway. Maybe she should leave. Listening to her aunt talk was not helping. Not one little bit.

  “Birds for one. They’re immune, you know that.” The older woman paced from counter to counter. “Besides, if just one phage survived the fires in China, it will jump on the backs of the ash, merge in the jet stream. For all we know, it could already be here.”

  Already here. All those people on-line could already be exposed. Sunnie crumpled onto the table. The teak wood supported her upper body, propped
up her limp arms, and cradled her head.

  “That’s stupid. The East coast isn’t any safer than the West.” Aunt Mavis walked to the cabinet by the sink and yanked it open. Rows of clear glasses stared back. “What else have those Washington imbeciles decided?” She reached for the cup and pulled it out. It slipped from her fingers. “You’ve got to be kidding me. The survival of our race is at stake and they’re worried about profit margins and dividends?” After a loud pop, jagged pieces of glass scattered over the tile. “The people have a right to know. They can’t—”

  Sunnie balanced her head on her chin. They can’t what?

  “I’ve already written a press release.” Aunt Mavis carefully lowered her hand to the counter. “No, I’ve only sent you a copy.” Squeezing her eyes closed, she lowered her head. “I understand. But you should know I respectfully disagree with you.”

  One press release. Sunnie’s thoughts raced as she connected the pieces. About the Redaction’s return. And the government was going to sit on it.

  Her aunt was going to sit on it.

  She jerked upright. Aunt Mavis wouldn’t do that, would she?

  “Well, I didn’t agree with the government’s position in Kuwait either, and look what happened when that got out.” Her aunt scrubbed her hand down her face. “Yes, it’s perfectly clear.” Sucking on her bottom lip, she lowered the phone before sweeping her thumb over the off button.

  “Aunt Mavis!” Heat flashed through her body, burning away her lethargy. Sunnie leapt from her chair. “You can’t mean to not tell people!”

  “That’s a double negative.” Staring into the entryway, the older woman tapped the phone’s antennae against her chin.

  English lessons. Now. Had her aunt’s mind snapped? Sunnie stormed toward the kitchen.

  “Stop.” Aunt Mavis held the phone up like a crossing guard’s stop sign.

  Sunnie slid to a halt on the tile. Of course, her aunt would tell people. She wasn’t a politician.

  “There’s glass on the floor, and you’re not wearing shoes.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She stamped her foot. “I’m worried about Armageddon and you’re worried about a cut on my foot.”

  Her aunt set the phone on the counter. “Cuts can be serious things, especially as medical care is risky.”

  Sunnie’s arms flapped at her side. Now what was her aunt droning on about? “What? The hospitals are open.”

  “What’s left of them.” The older woman opened the pantry and removed the broom hanging from a clip inside the door. “But that’s where the first wave of infected will head.” She unsnapped the dustpan from the broom’s handle. “That’s if they seek medical help at all.”

  Sunnie backpedaled out of the kitchen. This new world sucked! Worse, it showed no sign of improving. “Maybe they wouldn’t go to the hospital if you issued that press release and let them know the Redaction is back.”

  “I can’t do that.” Aunt Mavis lowered the broom’s bristles to the tiles and swept it back and forth in measured increments. “If we’re going to survive, I’m going to need all the information I can get. Through the Surgeon General I can access lots of data.”

  Sunnie stared at the motion—slow and methodical. Shaking off the sweeping’s spell, she folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. “You’re trading our lives for someone else’s?” Someone like chesshire8, catsin99 or nymetsfan1K.

  “I’m making a choice to give us the best possibility to survive.” Her aunt bent over the pile of debris and picked up the bottom shell of the glass.

  “But…” Sunnie scraped her hair into a ponytail. This couldn’t be happening. “Sending that press release could save one person’s life. Just one. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Yes.” Aunt Mavis chucked the piece into the garbage then turned her back on Sunnie.

  “God, why do you have to be so selfish?” She spun on her heel and stalked down the hall. Well, Aunt Mavis could let all those people die, but she most certainly would not. She bitch-slapped her bedroom door open and flopped into her chair.

  Her cursor blinked next to the words: RDXON back.

  She cracked her knuckles. Back to square one. No one would believe that without proof. She set her hands on the keyboard and worried the ridges on the f and g keys.

  So what could she say?

  She had to have overheard some tidbit that would prove her case. Where had the butt-headed officer said it had started? Asia?

  She added: Outbr8k in Asia.

  Picking up her soda, she chewed on the straw. Would it be enough? Asia was far away. More than an ocean. Maybe if she said where… The straw squeaked against the plastic cap.

  From the kitchen, she heard the slam of a cabinet door. Aunt Mavis must be finished cleaning. Would she come down the hall and stop her from sending the information?

  And what if Aunt Mavis lost her job?

  Or her douche bag boss ordered her shot?

  Ordered both of them shot? Sunnie’s leg twitched. Maybe she shouldn’t send it. She set her cup down, ice rattled. But could she live with herself if she didn’t even hint at it? She hit the backspace key until the cursor stood alone in the box.

  “Did you chicken out?” Aunt Mavis murmured from behind Sunnie. “Or can’t you find the words to tell your friends that nineteen out of twenty of them won’t be here after this thing strikes?”

  Sunnie straightened in her seat. “I’m not a chicken.”

  “So you sent the announcement, then?”

  “Not yet, but I will.” People had a right to know. And if she took a bullet for it… So be it.

  “Good.” Aunt Mavis walked into the reflection on the computer screen. She carried a box under her arm.

  Folding her arms across her chest, Sunnie spun in her chair. “You’re not going to talk me out of it.”

  “I’m not the enemy here, Sunnie.” Aunt Mavis set the box on the desk.

  “Yeah, well, with friends like you…” She eyed the black rectangle. Could that be some kind of mind-washing device? Could it make her forget what she’d heard?

  Aunt Mavis chuckled and lifted the box’s lid. “Just because I’m not going to issue the press release doesn’t mean I’m not going to warn people.”

  Leaning forward, Sunnie peered inside. “That’s a laptop.”

  “Yep.” Aunt Mavis pressed the power button. “But this one runs off a satellite link that makes it virtually untraceable.”

  Sunnie gritted her teeth as drives groaned to life. Her very first computer had made that noise. “It’s pretty ancient.”

  “It’s six months old. Most of what you see is the encryption programs and other stuff Miles glommed onto it to make sure no one could trace its source.” Her aunt’s face glowed red as a Chinese flag filled the screen. “When the Department of Defense’s computers trace the message, it will lead them to someone in the basement of the Great Hall of the People in Beijing.”

  “China?” Duh, Sunnie. Do you know another Beijing? “But I thought your boss told you to kill the press release?”

  “The President and the Republican Party did. And so we shall.” The desktop popped up on the screen. “But Miles sent this laptop to me before I’d been transferred to the military, so he must have known about China and guessed that the government would cover it up.”

  She recognized some of the icons, but not the characters underneath. “Is that Chinese?”

  “Of course.” Aunt Mavis hit an image of a globe. “The laptop came off a Chinese spy.”

  Sunnie rubbed the wrinkles from her forehead. Her aunt could read Chinese and knew spies. “What will happen to the person on the computer in the basement in China?”

  “Might be shot. Might be awarded a medal for all I know. Either way, he or she might be able to save thousands.” The web browser opened and a countdown appeared. Three minutes. Aunt Mavis snorted. “Seems this computer isn’t as clean as Miles thought.”

  With a few key strokes, her aunt switched from Ch
inese characters to English letters.

  “Miles is your boss, right? And he wants you to leak the information.” Sunnie gulped another mouthful of soda. Her head was beginning to hurt.

  “He told me so when he mentioned Kuwait.” The Redaction in Action skeleton slowly populated the screen, and the clock lost another minute.

  “Is it supposed to do that?”

  “The government is spying on the website, looking for any hint of outbreaks being reported as well as doing damage control.” Aunt Mavis scratched her nose. “Chesshire8 is an FBI agent; nymetsfan1K is either NSA or some black ops thug even I can’t get info on.”

  Cool air rushed into Sunnie’s mouth as her jaw dropped. “But, I’ve known them for months… Since the beginning almost.”

  “That’s because they’ve been watching you, Sunnie Bright.” Aunt Mavis’s fingers flew over the laptop’s keys. “They’re monitoring me by monitoring you, in a six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon kind of way.”

  Yeah, and that made sense on what planet?

  Her aunt punched the enter key, and then continued typing.

  “What did you say?”

  “Check the boards under Did This Happen to Anyone Today?” Aunt Mavis continued to tap on the keys.

  Sunnie opened the thread. “What’s your screen name?”

  “Mongoose.”

  She scrolled down until she found it.

  Mongoose: UR lucky you got out. Freakish snow storm here today. Spent the day on Google Maps. WTF is with the smoke in China?”

  catsin99: BN breathing that Sh** all month. Heard they were toasting the bodies.

  Mongoose: B careful you don’t get sick. Smoke is bad for lungs.

  Sunnie reread the message. Had she missed something? “I thought you were going to warn everyone about the Redaction, not second-hand smoke.”

  “The Chinese Redaction is a sickness that starts in the lungs and it’s coming here.” Aunt Mavis hit the enter key, waited until the text appeared then touched a switch on the side of the black box. “Done and with five seconds to spare.” The computer died. “And everyone knows the smoke has hit the west coast, so they’ll know they’re in the most danger.”