Deadline

I allowed my eyes to focus on the screen. The top item in my in-box was from an e-mail address I recognized all too well, and it was flagged Urgent. The little status marker was blinking bright red, which meant every possible “read this immediately” switch had been flipped, some of them maybe more than once. I took a breath, sent a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening, and opened the message.

For a long moment, everything was silent.

Oh, said George, finally. I guess that answers that.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess it does.”

From: TauntedOctopus@redacted.cn.com

To: Shaun.Mason@aftertheendtimes.com

Subject: Re: The current outbreak.

Ten points, kid: You got it faster than I expected you to. The yellow fever epidemic of 1858 happened after a tropical storm blew infected Aedes aegypti mosquitoes over from Cuba. The city of Memphis was nearly wiped out. Hundreds of thousands died.

Tropical Storm Fiona originated in Cuba.

This time is going to be much, much worse, because the mosquitoes may have been blown in by the storm, but they’re not tethered to it—some of them are probably already breaking away and infecting random people in the countryside. It’s just not enough to cause the mass horror we’re seeing in the storm zones. People and their shotguns can keep up with it, and as long as Fiona keeps going, the majority of the bugs will stay with the winds. That means they’re concentrated, creating a steady critical mass of new infected to share the joy and make it a real community barbecue.

My lab has moved. If you need to evacuate your current location, download the attached file and upload it to a GPS unit you don’t mind destroying. The directions will last for approximately five hours before the virus included with the file burns out your CPU. Attempts to extract the directions without uploading them will result in the file self-destructing and possibly giving you a nice little surprise as an added “you shouldn’t have fucked around with me when I’m in this kind of a mood” bonus.

If you must go outside while the sun is down, wear long sleeves and bug spray. I recommend Avon Skin-So-Soft. It’s a bath product. It smells like someone fed a Disney Princess through a juicer, but it works better than anything else on the market. Really, I recommend DDT and prayer. Sadly, those aren’t available for sale.

You have twenty-four hours before I move again. I will not transmit directions a second time.

Good luck. You assholes are going to need it.

Dr. Shannon L. Abbey

I read the e-mail twice, making sure I understood exactly what it said. Finally, I sent two copies to the house printer and leaned back in my chair, bellowing, “Mahir!” A minute passed with no reply. I ied again: “Mahir!”

“What in the bloody blue blazes are you shouting about now?” he demanded, shoving open the kitchen door and storming toward me. The bulldogs scrambled out of his way, demonstrating more in the way of self-preservation than I would have credited them with. One small brindle even mustered the courage to bark at Mahir’s ankles. I felt an unexpected pang. We were going to have to evacuate. If not immediately, then soon. The CDC knew where we were, and in the chaos of the second Rising, not even Maggie’s parents would have the reach to keep us all safe.

Between the van and George’s bike, we could easily take the five surviving members of the team. But there was no way we’d be able to take the dogs.

“I need a thumb drive,” I said.

Mahir stared at me. “Do you mean to tell me,” he said, in a measured tone, “that you just yelled like there was some sort of emergency on—when there is an actual emergency on, no less, which means we’re all a trifle jumpy—because you needed a thumb drive?”

“Sort of, yeah.” I held out my hand. “Got one?”

“I always thought the stories my staff told about you being impossible to work with were exaggerated, you know.” Mahir dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, which he slapped down on my palm. “This isn’t the time to be acting the bastard, Shaun.”

“I know.” I plucked a sheet of paper from the printer and held it out to him. “Here’s the latest from the lab of Dr. Abbey, crazy-ass scientist who knows more about the structure of Kellis-Amberlee than anybody else I’ve ever met. Just in case you needed a few more things to keep you awake at night.”

Mahir took the paper wordlessly and started to read. I took advantage of the lull and uncapped the thumb drive, plugging it into an open USB port. It checked out clean, so I started downloading Dr. Abbey’s embedded file for transfer. We’d need a way to get the information to the GPS when the time came.

That takes care of one GPS, said George. Are you leaving the bike?

“I’ll follow the van,” I replied, disengaging the thumb drive. It was another cold equation, and one that I liked just as little as I’d liked the first one. The more times we copied the information, the higher the odds were that someone could get hold of it. The van would be better armed and better-equipped to get away if something went wrong. The only person on the bike would be me, and I…

I wasn’t quite at the end of my usefulness, but with the way I’d been slipping, I wasn’t sure how much longer that was going to be true. If only one vehicle could reach Dr. Abbey’s safely, it wasn’t going to be mine. I was oddly okay with that.

That made one of us. Shaun, you’d better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking.

“Or what? You’ll haunt me?” I chuckled. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

George’s rebuttal was cut shI ss Mahir raised his head and stared at me. The circles under his eyes were standing out like bruises against his suddenly pale skin. I’d thought he looked tired when he first came off the plane, but compared to this, he’d been in top fighting condition. We’d been running for too long. I wasn’t the only one running out of go.

“Good lord, Shaun,” he said. His voice was shaking. Not for the first time, I wished that I’d died and George had lived—at least she could have given him a hug and told him things might not be all right but they’d take a few of the bastards out with them. I didn’t even know where to start. “Is this woman serious?”

“I don’t think she’s ever not serious. I also don’t think she’s ever wrong where Kellis-Amberlee is concerned. She’s the one who collected most of the data I gave you. She’s crazy. She’s dangerous. But I think she’s right.”

“But I…” He stopped, licking his lips nervously before he said, “If she’s right, we can’t stay here.”

“That’s true.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Well, we can’t stay here, and we can’t go home.” I stood, slipping the thumb drive into my pocket. “I suggest it’s time we head off to see the Wizard. The wonderful Wizard of Jesus We Are All So Fucked.”

I don’t think you can make that scan, said George.

“I don’t think so either,” I replied. Mahir gave me an odd look. I ignored it. We were past the point of me feeling self-conscious about talking to someone nobody else could hear. “Dr. Abbey’s right about the Avon Skin-So- Soft—it’s sold as a cosmetic, but it’s the best bug repellent on the domestic market. I have a couple of bottles in my kit. So should Becks.”

Mahir blinked. “Kellis-Amberlee has never had an insect vector. I’m not sure I’m willing to believe that it has one now. Why are you already carrying this stuff?”

I smiled thinly. “Because it’s the best bug repellent known to man. When you’re an Irwin, poking into places men were not meant to poke, being chased by the living dead, the last thing you want to do is stop to deal with mosquito bites all over your ass.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“I’m going to go get the others up to speed. We need to start packing, and we need to give Maggie time to tell the house security systems to stand down.” If I doused myself in bug repellent and wore my full-field armor, I’d be able to take the bike. Any mosquito that could bite through Kevlar deserved to get a piece of me. “We’re taking