Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I) (36 page)

He kept knocking until he heard a key turn in the deadbolt.

Mavis peeked through the opening. A mask covered her face, and fear dilated her pupils. “David?”

Sick. There was someone sick inside the house. He wouldn’t have to hide her, nor would he have to find a sick stranger to move in so Lister wouldn’t kill the woman. Relief and anger flipped through him like a coin toss in a football game. Shit!

Someone was sick in the house.

With his free hand, he gripped the security door’s handle and twisted. It opened easily and he pushed his way inside. “Are you sick? When did this happen? Is it the Redaction?”

Mavis swayed on her feet before cupping her hands over her mouth. “I’m fine. It’s Sunnie. She’s...” Her words ended on a hiccough, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Oh, God. What am I going to do?” She latched onto his jacket and tugged him forward. “I can’t lose her too.”

Dumping the box on the entry table, David pulled her into his arms and ran his fingers through her tangled brown hair. “Shhh. She’ll be all right. You’ll see. She’s strong like her aunt.”

She sniffed against his shirt before lifting her face so her nose burrowed against his neck. “But what if she’s not?”

“You can’t think like that.” He held her away from him and stooped so he could look her in the eyes. Platitudes stuck to his tongue. There was only so much loss a body could take before the heart broke and the soul bled out through the cracks. He’d seen it before. He’d see it again when the Redaction returned. But not to Mavis.

Never to Mavis.

“We must plan as if Sunnie will get better.” Pulling her close, he tucked her head under his chin. The light floral scent of shampoo and soap wafted off her. Heat washed through him as his body recognized something his brain had yet to mention. Mavis was dressed in pajamas. Silky ones. And she wasn’t wearing a bra. He shifted, easing his body’s response away from her. All he needed was for her to think he was a horn-dog. “And she will.”

“You don’t know that. Only one in a thousand will live.” Her hold tightened.

Wincing, he felt some of the hair on his chest get plucked out. Unfortunately, territory lower seemed to think it was foreplay.
Get a grip, man
. Now was not the time. Yet as a soldier, he knew anytime was a good time as long as both people were willing and breathing. “A simulation is just an educated guess.”

She stiffened in his arms and tried to wiggle out of his embrace.

He tightened his hold, keeping her against him. Stupid! The friction only encouraged his swelling erection. Time for some diversionary tactics, one that engaged his mind and body. And probably little or no touching. This was a reassurance mission, not R-and-R. “What I mean is someone will survive. Sunnie’s just as much a someone as anyone else. Why can’t it be her?”

He replayed his words over in his head. That could have been said so much better. But then what could he expect with so little blood reaching his brain?

Mavis must have understood because she rested against him again. Her warm breath puffed against his open collar. A moment passed. Then another. His body rebelled against the strictures of his head. She certainly
seemed
willing.

Finally, she leaned back to look at him. “You need to work a few less negatives into your pep talk.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.” He offered her a smile, making sure to flash both dimples. An engine rumbled in the distance. He swept her bangs off her forehead. “Go splash water on your face. We’re about to have company.”

“Company?” She sniffled before pulling away from him. Crossing the great room, she jerked a tissue out of the box and blotted at her red nose.

“General Lister is on his way.” Color fled from her cheeks, deepening the red rimming her eyes. Yeah, she knew why. She was one smart lady. He twisted the deadbolt on the security door, before closing the front one. For threatening to kill Mavis, Lister could wait on the porch until the cows came home. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She folded the tissue before blowing her nose. “I won’t let you do anything foolish. Besides, if Sunnie does have the Redaction, I really don’t care what happens to me.”

“Well, I care.” David folded his arms across his chest. Christ, it was worse than he thought if the Doc was already thinking of red-lining herself out of existence. “Besides, we don’t know if she has the Redaction. All sorts of fun things are floating around these days.”

Sniffing, she cocked an eyebrow and frowned at him. “I think we both know it is just a matter of time before Patient Zero is discovered. God help us if he dies and no one discovers his body for days.”

Yeah, that wasn’t a pretty picture. Bodies did not age well, especially in Arizona. With warmer weather on its way, Patient Zero might very well swell and explode before he or she was discovered.

A horn beeped outside.

Mavis jumped before her attention stuck to the door. “Do you know this General Lister?”

“Never met him.” David shrugged before backing toward the door. He returned his finger to the trigger but kept the safety on and pointed the muzzle at the ground. “Marines, especially career ones, tend to be good guys.”

If they weren’t total rules-and-regs pricks. Still, she’d been married to one, so it wouldn’t do to bad mouth the Corps. Too much.

Her gaze flicked to the mantle and the pictures of her husband and son. “Yeah.”

David’s ears perked as gravel crunched outside. The jarheads must be in a hurry to be making so much noise. With his free hand, he scooped up the box from the hall table. “Why don’t you get working on the newest batch of data?”

She sighed and sank onto the couch. “I don’t see that it will change anything.”

“It might change everything.” David shook the box at her and heard the jump drive scratch at the cardboard. “Don’t you want to find out?”

“Not really.” She smoothed the purple fabric over her knees.

His strides ate up the distance between the hall table and the sofa. Looming over her, he dropped the box into her lap. “Yes, you do. Because Patient Zero is out there and we’re going to need someplace safe to take Sunnie to so she can recover.”

Mavis scrubbed her hands down her face before wrapping them around the box. “I didn’t think you were an optimist.”

“I’m a glass three-quarters full kind of guy.” He held out his free hand.
Operation Comfort is still in effect
, he warned his body.

She slid her fingers against his palm then rose from the sofa.

The doorbell echoed around the great room.

Her grip tightened. Hugging the box to her chest, she looked down the hallway, toward the bedrooms, toward her niece’s room.

“Why don’t you get to work while I deal with the jarhead?”

One corner of her mouth tilted up. “I’m not your problem, you know?”

“You are.” David squeezed her chilled fingers. “I have orders from my temporary Commander-in-Chief to make certain nothing happens to you. I even have permission to save you from yourself if necessary.”

“Miles better not have said any such thing.” She pursed her lips while edging around him but kept their hands locked together.

“It’s all a matter of interpretation.” And a very big imagination. Mavis certainly inspired his to take flight. Someone pounded on the security door. Impatient bastard. “I’ll answer that, while you crunch numbers.”

She bit her bottom lip.

David tugged her forward, toward the dining room table and her computer. “Relax. Marines don’t go anywhere without their corpsmen. Since the Corps prides itself on being prepared, the resident squid will undoubtedly be carrying a year’s worth of drugs.”

She slid the box onto the tabletop before strangling the chair back. “I should be there when they examine her.”

“Then get that data plugged in.” He jerked his head toward the package.

The rattling of the security door intensified. The general had better not dent the metal.

“We’re coming!” David shouted above the racket.

Metal hummed to a stop. The silence raged in his ears, but he didn’t move.

Mavis rolled her eyes, hooked the chair with her heel and pulled it out. “Fine. I’ll get the sims underway.”

That’s what he wanted to hear. Even if there was bit of whine in it. He winked at her, walked to the door, and yanked it open. Despite the light, the men on the porch were flesh-colored blobs through the sieve of metal, but he could clearly make out the gold stars on the taller man’s collar. “We’ve got a sick female, approximately nineteen years of age, in the back bedroom. Fever, cough, and chills.”

At least, he hoped she had those symptoms. He hadn’t actually seen her; he’d been too busy taking care of Mavis. David unlocked the security door and stepped back.

“Corpsman, see to the girl then report back.” General Lister wrenched open the door and strutted inside.

Damn cocky Marine. David bit the inside of his cheek. Did they teach the wily bastards to walk like that during Basic? Of all the men in his unit, only Robertson had that infernal swagger.

Jostling a number of bags, the navy corpsman sauntered in. Black skin showed through the shorn hair on the sides of his head. He nodded to David once as he passed and turned right, before doing an about face and heading in the opposite direction.

“Doctor Spanner would like to be present for the examination.” Securing the door, David looked at Mavis.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard like startled birds, wanting to land but unsure if it was safe. Yet, her attention remained riveted on the ever-changing screen. “Absolutely. You should know, she’s taken a dose of aspirin for the fever and body aches.”

The corpsman paused at the branch in the hallway. “Any allergies?”

“None.” Mavis tapped the enter key and the screen blanked. A moment later, a map of the United States appeared. Red fuzzed the west coast before it spread across the landscape like a pool of blood from a fresh body. Wiping her hands on her purple pajama top, she marched barefoot to the medic’s side. “And she has no congenital conditions or any lasting effects from the influenza.”

The corpsman jiggled the medical bag. “When did she contract the Redaction?”

“November.” Mavis brushed by him before turning the corner heading away from the master bedroom. “She had the fever for three weeks and coughed until Christmas.”

“A typical infection, then.”

Distance muffled their voices slightly before David heard hinges creak.

“Sunnie?” Mavis spoke softly. “There’s someone here to diagnose your illness.”

David inched closer to the hallway. Was the Doc’s niece Patient Zero? Maybe he should join them. Mavis might need a shoulder to cry on.

“Christ Almighty.” General Lister moved in front of the computer. A moment later, his voice boomed around the room. “This is what we can expect? Everyone dead?”

Then again, maybe not. David raked his fingers through his hair and focused on the laptop’s screen. The US was one giant black spot, except for the ninety-nine percent splashed across the front. “Not quite everyone. One in a thousand will survive.”

“What the hell kind of odds are those?” Lister turned Mavis’s cane back chair around and straddled it.

“Not good.” David remained standing. Lister may be a Marine but he was still a general. “Hopefully, we’ll find something to give us an edge.”

“We’d better.” Lister ran his index finger over the cursor pad. When a menu button popped up, he clicked rerun.

Silk whispered and David turned in time to watch Mavis turn the corner. He liked the sway of her hips and the bounce of her breasts. From the corner of his eye, he spied on Lister. David shifted, blocking the general’s view. This time the Army Reserve had arrived before the Marines and weren’t about to cede territory to a star toting jarhead. Cupping her elbow, he escorted her to the table. “How is Sunnie doing?”

Mavis licked her lips. Unshed tears swam in her eyes. “The corpsman thinks it might be Plague. I... I didn’t even notice the flea bite on her arm.”

Lister swore under his breath and reached for the cell phone clipped to his belt.

“But that’s good, right?” David held out a new chair for her and gently guided her onto the seat. “The corpsman will give her antibiotics, and she’ll be better in no time.”

“If we caught it in time.” Propping her elbows on the table, she clutched her head between her hands. “For the antibiotics to be most effective, it has to be caught early.”

“Well, she wasn’t sick yesterday so we must have caught it early.” David watched Lister rise from his seat and stride down the hall. He probably had to report that there’d be no shooting doctors tonight.

“Maybe.”

“No. Not maybe.” Leaving her side, he skirted the kitchen island, heading for the coffee pot. “We did.”

Turning her face toward him, she flashed him a brief smile. “You really are a glass three-quarters full kind of guy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He tossed the old coffee down the drain, rinsed the pot then added enough water to brew the full eight cups promised by the maker. If the general planned to stay a while, David would need the caffeine to keep awake.

Marines were notorious womanizers.

Starting with the far left cabinet, he opened the doors.

“Coffee’s in the next one.” Mavis spun the laptop around until the screen faced her. “No improvement.”

He opened the cabinet. Inside was a hazelnut frou-frou coffee and the real stuff. Popping the plastic lid, he measured out enough grounds so the brew would allow a spoon to stand at attention then turned on the coffee maker. “Now we need a bug out plan.”

“Why leave?” Closing the keyboard of his Smartphone, Lister swaggered back into the room. “We have all that we need here, plus we can shop at all the empty residences.”

“The people may be dead, but their bodies are still lying around, decomposing and feeding the rats.” David removed two mugs from the wooden tree near the window. In the glass’s reflection, he saw Mavis wince. Tact wasn’t exactly a skill that survived sleep deprivation. He reached for a third mug then stopped. The corpsman could wait on the general.