Art’s audience sat in the police station patiently waiting for him to begin. Mark was there along with Bill to hear his explanation.
He felt as if he should have been giving a visual, a slide show or something, but all he had were his words and the backup of Niles.
“There really is a lot of good news about this,” Art said.
“And with that,” Mark added, “I hear a ‘but.’”
Art nodded. “The four deer that Ada found were killed by OG-22X. Which is the name I gave my compound to kill the pred bugs.”
“OG?” Kit asked. “Original Gangster.”
The corner of Art’s mouth raised. “Something like that. We found traces of OG-22X in the remains of all the deer. Dead of course, inactive. What happened to those deer, what covered those deer was not the result of OG-22X.”
“Is that the ‘but’ leading to bad news?” Eb asked.
Art shook his head. “No, it’s good news. Sort of.”
Everyone groaned.
Mark paced some. “Look, just get to the point okay.”
“There’s more to the point, and there are facts you need to know,” Art said. “For one, many of you know, the fungus I created was something already here. I merely manipulated it. So OG-22X is not my creation, it is a manipulation. The original strain alone had properties that were remarkable. The spores were active longer, it carried easier and it reproduced faster. The problem with it was it wasn’t deadly. Like most fungi it covered and deteriorated things that were dead or useless—anything immobile—and could attach itself to dying things. For example, it would take over and kill a tree that was dying. The positive thing was as long as something was alive, it didn’t touch it.”
Ada inquired, “So you manipulated it to make it deadly?”
“Yes,” Art answered.
“So immobile meaning…?” Ada asked.
“Anything not alive,” Art answered.
Cass lifted her hand. “So what covered that deer and… I’ll assume Trixie’s dead friend was what? OG-22X?”
“No,” Art replied. “What covered the deer and what we assume from images covered Trixie’s friend, was the original strain.”
“This thing,” Ada said, “was so powerful, it shunned the manipulation like a cancer and regained its original form. Meaning, I was right, Mister I-went-to-Harvard?”
Art nodded. “You were right. Fungi are resilient. They adapt, and to adapt it regained its original form.”
“We’re ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive,” Niles said, “that any contact with the original form is not deadly to humans or animals.”
“Because we’re living,” Kit said.
“Exactly,” Niles answered. “There are decades worth of research that back that it is non-lethal. It’s a destroyer—it will eat anything dead or nonviable.”
“If this thing is so strong,” Mark said, “why in God’s name did you make it stronger?”
“We didn’t,” Art answered. “We weakened it and added the property to kill the pred bugs.”
“So all this research with this fungus,” Mark said. “This thing has been with scientists for a while—you said decades. I take it this fungus is old.”
“It is,” Art said.
“Where did you get it from?” Mark asked.
“It was discovered in the arctic fifty years ago,” Art said. “It dates back four hundred million years.”
“Jesus Christ!” Ada exclaimed. “You brought back a prehistoric fungus?”
“We had to, we needed something strong that would attack immobile, nonviable things,” Art said. “The pred bug, like OG-22X, was manipulated by man. The shell of the pred bug has such minimal biological properties that the fungi attacked it like it would a rock or dying tree.”
Kit lifted his hand. “So you’re telling me whatever died from OG-22 whatever… will be covered with this prehistoric fungi?”
“And some.”
“Excuse me?” Kit tilted his head.
Eb groaned. “Now I know why you don’t want us to go to Los Angeles or say something about the timing. This thing is spreading, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid, if I’m right,” Art said, “it won’t just be the deer, it’ll be Trixie’s friend or anyone else that died. It will be anything immobile or nonviable around them.”
Cass let out a slight shriek. “Eb! Kit, we learned about this in Mr. Simon’s biology class. Remember? The fungus that ate the world.”
“That’s true,” Art said. “But it’s not going to eat the world. Just everything not alive.”
“Which is everything but people,” Cass said. “And trees of course. How long?”
Art shook his head. “It depends how fast it spreads. It can be very fast, or it can take decades.”
“We’re safe, though,” Mark said. “Right? I mean we don’t have any more cases here.”
Niles shook his head. “It’s spreading, it’s being carried from place to place.”
“How?” Mark asked.
A loud ‘whap’ caught everyone’s attention and everyone looked at Bill.
“Sorry.” Bill hunched. “A fly.”
“I fucking hate flies,” Cass said.
“Well,” Art said, “you’re gonna hate them even more. The flies were the one thing impervious to OG-22X.”
Kit’s shoulders dropped as he sighed out. “And with all the dead bodies and animals…”
“Millions of flies. That fly”—Art pointed—“may have just dropped that fungus there.”
Ada stood up abruptly, marched across the room to the desk, whipped a small spray bottle from her belt, and pumped a few times onto the dead fly. “Not anymore. I hit it with MMB.”
Art shook his head with a dismissive look. “As much as I like to appease you, I can’t. Your MMB isn’t going to work against a prehistoric fungus. It’s out there. It’s back. Soon it will cover everything and if we don’t figure out something,” Art said, “Griffin will not be spared.”
20.
WINDOW SEAT
Griffin, AZ
With her left hip against the kitchen sink, arms folded, Trixie tried to inconspicuously peek out the kitchen window. “She’s not picking anything. She’s just looking around.”
Lena snapped the ends of the fresh green bean and tossed it in a bowl. “I’m sure whatever she’s doing she has reason for it.”
“So weird. Did you see the way she gutted that deer? She kind of scares me.”
“It’s called field dressing. Don’t make fun of Ada. She invited you into her home and is a good woman. She has her quirks but that’s what makes her awesome.”
“I’m not making fun, I promise.”
“Anyone home?” Eb’s voice carried to them.
Trixie answered, “In the kitchen.”
Eb came into the kitchen clutching papers in his hand. “Hey.”
Lena looked up. “Hey, Eb.”
“Good to see you out of the room.”
“I had to. Did Cass and Kit leave?”
“Yep.” Eb nodded. “Them and the two docs. About an hour ago. Not sure the radios will work. Mayor is manning the station just in case.”
Trixie walked up to Eb. “I’m Trixie. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Eb. Nice to meet you. Is Ada here?”
Trixie pointed. “She’s out in the garden.”
Eb looked out the window then went to the back door.
“He’s cute,” Trixie whispered. “He married?”
“He’s divorced,” Lena answered.
“Ada, can you come in for a moment.” Eb’s hollering carried into the kitchen just before he returned.
“Everything alright… Eb?” Trixie asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I got some information.” Just as he sat down, Ada returned.
Immediately she went to the sink to wash her hands. “Sorry. Was checking for the mean green.” She grabbed a towel and dried her hands. “I’m clear. What’s going on, Eb? Everything okay with Cass?”