SurviRal Read Free Page A

getting ready to lay you off. I heard they were having some trouble because of the pandemic.”
    “Lay me off? I should be so lucky. They’re doubling my workload, with all the engineers out sick on the coasts.”
    “Aren’t they closing some offices, too?” Tom asked as he retrieved a cigar from the pocket of his flannel coat.
    “Yes,” Clint said. “Mostly in Europe. A couple on the east coast. Like I said, more work for me.”
    Clint drew a flush to beat Roy’s three aces.
    “I thought you didn’t need the money!” Roy said.
    “Never said that. This might help make up for my 401K tanking.”
    Everyone at the table moaned. Clint realized he brought up a sore subject.
    “It’s an opportunity in disguise,” Tom said.
    “What, the stock market falling?”
    “Yep. Always is. You know after 9-11 Louise bought some Disney stock at $16 per share? It was more than triple that before the flu selloff started. Still more than double even now.”
    “Why did she pick Disney?”
    “Oprah.”
    Laughs.
    “I’m not kidding, though,” Tom continued. “As soon as they make an H5 vaccine the market will turn around. Too bad so many people have to die first. I’m only waiting for the DOW to bottom out. It hasn’t crashed far enough yet.”
    “Down more than 30% isn’t enough for you?”
    “No. I’m thinking when it’s down 50% from the top it’s time to start buying.”
    “He might be right,” Harold said dealing the cards. “But this bird flu thing is frightening. Where the devil did that come from all of a sudden? Just this Monday Clint and I were talking on his patio, and the epidemic was only of the regular flu for all anyone knew.”
    “That part is spooky,” Roy said. “You heard about all the dead ferrets they found in Maryland and Virginia?”
    “Too much,” Clint replied. “My brother keeps sending me links to all these conspiracy-blog posts about those.”
    “Some of those conspiracy theories may not be so far-fetched.” Roy folded. “Especially the ones speculating about a connection to the December plane crash in Holland. That’s how the Dutch mad scientists were doing their experiments, you know, using ferrets—or polecats, as they call them in Europe. Their concocted viruses transferred freely between birds, ferrets, and humans. If some of the infected polecats escaped because of the disaster there, that might be how the killer flu strain got out. In which case we’re looking at a hideous manmade biological weapon turned loose on the world.”
    Clint bet two dollars. “But they said the secured virology lab wasn’t breached. It was made like a military bunker, locked up tighter than Harold’s gun locker—impossible to get to without destroying it.”
    “Oh, they said, they said. You might not want to be so quick to dismiss everything your brother says. They also told us the flu epidemic was only a normal H2 strain.”
    “It is,” Harold said. “Or at least, it was. Two hundred million people between Europe and the U.S. caught it, and less than four million have died from it. More than 98% of those infected were sick for a week or two and then recovered, like normal. But they say this new bird flu, the mutated H5 one they’re finding in some people now, has an 80% mortality rate.”
    Tom called Clint’s bet. “So how did that suddenly appear out of nowhere?” he asked. “And right in the middle of one of the worst ‘regular flu’ pandemics in history? That’s too much of a coincidence. Plus I heard some people who started out with the normal H2 flu ended up with the killer H5 version, somehow.”
    Harold folded and stood. “They were probably misdiagnosed originally. The doctors and clinics have been way too busy to keep efficiency levels high. Must be a nightmare for them. Anyone else need a beer?”
    “I do,” Tom said. “Whaddya got, Clint?”
    “Pair of kings.”
    “Tens and sevens. I finally beat you.” Tom began raking in the pot. “It’s scary as hell.