Extinction Burst

by John Birge

Part 1 appears
in this issue.

conclusion

Anna had decided that it was probably for the best that only the few and brightest went up there, the top scientists, researchers, politicians and business leaders. They were needed the most — to organise, to impose some order on a world that would otherwise quickly descend into anarchy, madness and chaos. “Because people are irrational,” she added. The rest was from the news.

Thank God the news was still a source of trustworthy information. Still plenty of networks to choose from with their biases. There was no problem getting the whole image, which sometimes seemed hopeless, even to Anna.

First news item: The date for complete evacuation was pushed forward. Again. Distributing the inoculation was the main problem. Because people were not allowed to migrate, due to concerns that the virus would migrate with them, it was very difficult to reach people.

Of course, martial law had been instated when it was still thought that humans could be carriers. Why hadn’t that ban been lifted? She had not thought about it, but now that she did, it made no sense.

Second news item: And she thought, “No, it can’t be.”

Her heart ached, pounded and pulsated like the worn-out muscle it was. Far too heavy and far too experienced, and now this final blow: Winters’ face on the screen. There she was, alive and well. And safe. Anna should have been glad, but was furious. That shameless pross! How dare she..?

Anna calmed herself down, listening intently and loathingly to each and every word that came out of that woman’s mouth, like sickening clouds of infesting insects.

Interviewer: ...Now joining us is Helen Winters with CDC in Haven. Good evening Miss Winters, I understand you have good news from Haven?

Winters: Yes, indeed we do, Tom. We have been able to synthesize enough inoculation jabs for distribution across the U.S. and Eurasia. Starting tomorrow, martial law is no longer in effect and all CDC employees will have been inoculated and ready to do the same for others. We urge all citizens everywhere to remain cautious and vigilant. We still do not have a cure if you are infected. I repeat that, there is still no cure.

Interviewer: Yes, as Miss Winters here said, exercise extreme caution since you will be outside, where people haven’t been in awhile. The disease is outside, and you will be smack in the middle of it.

Winters: Indeed. Once again, all citizens must be very careful when venturing outside. There is plenty to go around, and if you are infected along the way it will do you absolutely no good. So take every precaution, we will not run out of jabs, and as Tom said, it would be very stupid to condemn yourself to death when life is just around the corner.

Interviewer: Thank you very much for joining us, and may I say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for the good news, it’s much needed down here.

Winters: My pleasure, Tom. Be safe. Remember, we can beat this thing together.

“Lying sack of...” thought Anna and changed the channel. Dickie had been right, she admitted that. She poured herself a stiff drink, finished it quickly and had another. She tried to calm herself down; now was not the time for pride, tantrums or decadence. There was much work to be done. She put away the bottle and had coffee instead. For some masochistic reason beyond her comprehension, she watched The Swarm and fell asleep on the couch halfway through.

* * *

Two months later, September (when evacuation was ‘at latest’) was rushing in, to the joy and relief of the terminally decimated CDC employees. Except Anna. Not for petty reasons, she had forgiven Winters for her cowardly promotion long ago. Whatever had made her do what she had done had been for the greater good.

If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, it is to eliminate the unwittingly murderous insects. No, Anna wanted to wait until the cat was out of the bag, or however that axiom went. It had been two months since inoculation day, but still people who were not sick before that day were dying. The inoculation had failed, and there was still no cure.

Besides, she was not the highest ranking CDC employee on site. She had gotten her well-deserved promotion at last and come insect hell or insect water, she would do her job to the best of her abilities. Somebody had to maintain order around here, and Anna was up to the task.

Dickie was dead. He had been inoculated just like the rest but, even so, he never showed up for work anymore. It was Dickie would have awarded her the honour of big chief before he left and never returned.

Nobody was safe, things were still as bad as ever. Worse, in fact, since the I-day mass rejections. A massive surge in panicky and badly planned mobility after the announcement had, just as they had been warned, caused a massive increase in the number of infected.

Travelling in the warm, wet summer, millions had died worldwide. The infection rate had soared in a way not seen in months. Persistent rumours claimed it was an extermination scheme, that everybody had been gunned down when they tried to pass through the checkpoints where they were to be checked for infection. All these rumours...

What were once cities of great significance and population had been reduced to gigantic dilapidated slaughterhouses, with the only human presence those dead or dying. London, Tokyo, Moscow, Berlin... Anna was beginning to accept the adjective “apocalyptic.” There were only millions left now, counting Haven, and many of those alive were infected, and doomed.

With Dickie gone, Anna was all alone at work. But it was not just that Dickie was gone, her CDC branch was down to four people working, each managing several districts. And Anna was the boss now. “Spineless and dependent,” she had thought. No doubt they did not want to shoulder the responsibility. Anna did.

And she slept at work, no longer going back to her flat. She had run out of DDT. The sonics relied on power, which was out sometimes, as well as the exterior nightmare catchers and there was nobody alive to fix any of these necessities. Besides, small armies of infected people terrorised the streets, rightfully unafraid of insects and perhaps rightfully without inhibitions, but wrongfully without morals and armed with whatever they came across.

Outside was dangerous, the threat coming from men and mosquitoes alike. Stories of the sick infecting healthy people so that they would join them in their end-time orgy of destruction and debauchery seemed far too plausible to ignore. Automated defence systems had been shipped down from the North, but how many of them were now in the possession of the desperate and dying was uncertain.

Ignoring calls, she half-attentively watched the news. Phoners still reached out across the functioning phone service, searching for a voice, for solace and a friend. She couldn’t deal with them.

A message interrupted the news, covering the screen. It read, “Pick up the phone, Anna.” She did, and was stumped. Dickie’s face. Dickie’s voice.

“Anna, its Dickie. Remember? Hello? Anna? Hey!”

“Yes,” she replied, confused.

“I’m — I guess this is going to sound strange either way — I’m in Haven.”

“Oh,” was all she could muster. Him too.

“Yeah, I’m up here with... Listen, I want to ask you something. Confidential.”

Barely audible, Anna automatically murmured an approval.

“I want you to come up here. Things are way, way worse than they are letting you know. And I have asked around, you can bring one person who is discreet, trustworthy and rational.”

“Oh,” again.

“So I thought of you. I want you up here. Please say you’ll go.”

“I don’t know,” she replied, devoid of emotion.

“Aw, come on. It’s a chance to save your life, for Fox’s sake!”

“What about my work?” Her head felt so strange and so alien that she just could not get a grip.

“Forget about work. You’re down on your knees, for crying out loud! There is” — He calmed himself — “There’s no point in staying.”

“Why are you telling me this? I would have been happy thinking you died.”

“But I’m not dead! We can be together.”

“Be together?”

“Yeah, you know... Together?”

She stared at the news, her mind somehow wishing the voice came from there, but it was muted.

“Why?” she said.

Pause. “Because I love you.” Very declarative.

“Oh. And what if...”

“I know, I know, you’re not sure. But we can work on that. But you need to be here for that!”

“Why don’t you come down here? You know where to find me. Hell, you could do some work, we could use another pair of hands around here.”

“There’s not going to be a CDC left! Don’t you see, everything south of here is dead or dying! And we’re speeding up the process. Do you really think they’re going to evacuate anybody else? This is our only chance.”

Who was included in our? She was, if she wanted to be. Us and the dead. Anna looked about the office. It did look like a wasteland. Where more than 300 people had worked there were only four left. Nobody could hear her. And she could not hear them.

“So how is it that I can get rescued?”

“I said you were my fiancée. And you could bring data from the retro-viral.”

“Well I’m not, and I transmit that anyway.”

“Be my fiancée, then.”

“Why should I love you?”

“I think I’m the best, most decent man left. That may not say much, but it’s something. And I love you.”

Dickie’s heavy nervous breathing, thick with anticipation and anxiety. Silence.

“It’s not good enough,” she said at last. “It’s not good enough, Dickie. Not anymore,” she said and internally “you thick bastard.”

“What do you mean not anymore?”

“If you ever realise you need somebody that you can rely on, someone who doesn’t run to another continent whenever the going gets tough, you should look me up. You know where to find me.”

“Anna, I...“

“Good-bye Dickie. Until you come back, I will continue to think of you as dead.”

She hung up. Dickie wouldn’t come back. Nobody in their right mind would leave Haven. And nobody in their right mind would stay down here.

After a few seconds, the whole thing dawned on her, but it was just too much. What about Dickie? Perhaps she had had a thing for him, but never admitted it? Now it was too late. Too late for love, but not too late for hate.

Why had she turned him down? Reasons slithered in her head, fall-of-manning the inevitable conclusion: They had done it. They had done it all, and everybody had fallen for it. Everybody had worked, everybody had done their share and for what? Nothing!

Who orchestrated this? Who were they, who held power, if anybody? Did somebody want everybody to die and what could possibly be gained from that? Domination through extermination? These were all questions much too complicated for Anna to answer. Even if she were to look for answers, she was sure there would not be any to find. It was, as she had said, too late. Just too late.

Was work its own reward? It had to be. That was all there ever had been for Anna, and now... Now it was everything that was ever to be. Alpha Omega. There was no other way.

She would die, they would all die but, until they did, they would work, doing what they could against hopeless odds. What did it matter who the new Herrenvolk would be? They had executed everything perfectly, an orchestrated apocalypse of highest quality.

“Christ! How long? How long do we need to do this? It’s endless!” shouted Mori as loud and miserable as he could across the deserted office landscape, every word saturated with despair and a childish surrendering.

Anna dialled Mori, who answered. She looked across distance and desktops. Her reply was calm, comforting and quoting, “Until the end of the summer.”

“It’s September! We were supposed to be evacuated. We were supposed to be safe!”

“I know. But we need to continue. We must push on.”

“How long?”

“Until the end of the summer.”

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll all be safe. Then it will all be over.”