killing everyone, for locking us in our houses until we starve, and subjecting us to this totalitarian rule.”
Whoa! Totalitarian rule? Who’d been messing with this kid’s head? The internet, of course. While it had kept people from going crazy during the quarantine, it had also given rise to some bat guano theories. Armed, crazy and young—he was a dangerous trifecta. “The government is not responsible for the influenza.”
“Yes, they are.” The boy nodded. His hair flapped against his forehead and his arm dipped. “North Korea has the proof.”
Sweet Jesus! Her gaze darted to the glowing streetlamp before returning to her target. Time shackled her as she inched another step forward. North Korea again. Mavis hoped some big Chinese military leader just got a fork shoved up his behind. One of those long grilling forks would be nice. “Look, Jasper—”
“Justin.” He raised the arrow, until it pointed at her heart.
“Justin.” Mavis stressed his name. Good gravy, didn’t these kids have to read Shakespeare in school anymore? “The government’s response was as swift as it could be. The CDC issued warnings from the first confirmed case. Press releases went out. It even got a sound byte on TMZ. Nobody listened. People took cold medicine and went to work. Sure, the drugs reduced their symptoms, but they were carriers of the disease, spreading it to everyone through the recycled heating ducts.”
Justin shook his head, but his aim didn’t waver. “The government caused it.”
Mavis held her breath. Please don’t say it.
“You caused it.”
And he said it. Not that she blamed him. Everyone wanted someone to blame. She just didn’t want to be the scapegoat. Mavis reached the front of the Civic and inched along the bumper toward the driver’s side.
“No one is responsible, Justin. A pig in Kansas City was patient zero. He infected the others in the bull pen awaiting slaughter then spread it to all the workers.” Somehow she doubted the kid appreciated the irony that the animal humans used to grow their vaccines had resulted in the deaths of so many. “There were a record number of conventions in the city all wrapping up.” In a perfect example of Murphy’s Law, many of those people traveled around the globe for a living. “People sneezed in taxis and coughed in airports, bus terminals and train stations. Before the first human patient staggered into the emergency room, the influenza had spread around the world.”
“That’s a lie. The virus was manufactured in some pharmaceutical lab. The company got rich, and the politicians forced us into a police state.”
Even from a distance, she could see the bow quiver. Good gravy, the kid shook so much he might accidentally release the arrow. Mavis swallowed despite her dry mouth and looked down her trembling iron sight. He wasn’t the only one that needed to remain calm. “As much as I’d like to debate this issue Justin, we need to go home.”
“You’re not coming into the neighborhood. You’re infected.”
“I’m not infected. I got sick, yes, but I recovered. I’m immune now, just like practically everyone else.” Mavis paused. Using her toe, she righted her loafer then slipped her foot inside. The cold leather was stiff against her heel.
Mavis continued her stroll along the front of the car. Once she got to driver’s side, she’d shoot the lock and drive away. Fortunately, her tires wouldn’t go flat with a couple of arrows in them. It was a good plan.
Provided, Justin didn’t shoot her before she implemented it. “You’re part of the conspiracy.”
Mavis swallowed a groan. One more time. She’d try one more time to get through to him. “You’re smarter than that, Justin. The government needs young, healthy workers. If it had created a disease, it would be to kill off the older population, the welfare sponges and the convicts.”
“Maybe they did create it like you said.” Justin stepped forward until he practically
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