The Year of Endings

From The Year of Endings:

They tested their signals with the LA office and were ready to go when their live slot came up. Tiara tapped on her microphone and looked into the lens. “For those of you expecting the season premiere of Fight for Your Life, we’re experiencing technical difficulties that we’ll iron out soon. But we won’t leave you hanging – instead, we’ll show you history being made! This is Tiara King, and if you can’t recognize my face, it’s because I’m wearing a bio-chemical suit that protects me from the billions of deadly viruses swarming around me. We’re broadcasting live from Sparks, Nevada, just outside Reno, at the old Hughes National Airport.

“At last, the moment all Californians have been waiting for has arrived! The National Guard is administering the first shots of life-saving Recombin to the displaced persons camping here. A crack team of dedicated Activity scientists has been working around the clock to reproduce the Recombin that Krista Warner brought into California last week. Today, a quarter million doses were delivered to Reno, and mass vaccinations are already underway.

“And more is being made in a super-secret facility nobody will even acknowledge exists. But lifesaving Recombin pours out of this mysterious laboratory, and starting tomorrow, it’ll be available inside California.

“We’ll show you everything tonight at 10 PM Pacific when we air Yearning to Breathe Free, a documentary on the deliverance of California from the scourge of Neovirus ravaging the States. For the next half hour, though, we’ll interview the people who were instrumental in delivering salvation.” Krista walked out of the baggage claim, and Tiara pulled her over by the arm. “And here’s Krista Warner now. Krista, how do you feel on this momentous day in humankind’s history?”

“I’m sweating like a pig, I’ve got to pee like a racehorse, and I’m going to chew my own tongue off if I don’t have a smoke. I wanna get out of this feckin body condom in the worst way.”

“Ha, ha,” Tiara said. “Folks, Krista didn’t sleep well last night, and we’ve all been under a lot of stress today. Saving the world’s a tiring job!”

“I slept fine, Tia. Now could we do this later and splice it in? If I don’t have a squat soon, I’ll be filling these boots up to my ankles. I’ve got enough potty issues –”

“We can’t do it later because we’re on a live feed right now, Krista. A live feed where we can’t edit out your offbeat sense of humor. The network hub crashed, and we’re filling in for Fight for Your Life.”

“Oh.” Krista glanced at Timmie, who nodded. “Right, this momentous day. It feels like…whoa, we’re live?” She scanned the sky quickly for missiles and then grabbed Timmie’s shirt. “You weren’t supposed to broadcast till we were gone! Are you kidding me?”

“We got a live slot,” Tiara said. “We thought we’d interview the key players…where are you going? Folks, Krista is running to the Humvees that brought us here, probably on another top-secret mission of mercy or some daring Activist operation. Let’s go find out!” She and Timmie ran to the first jeep, where Krista sat in the driver’s seat trying to figure out how to start it. “What mission is the Anarchista on now? Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here.” She climbed out and searched the sky again. Finding nothing there, she jumped back into the driver’s seat. The car still wouldn’t start, and she tore off her mask and threw it into the street. “Now push off, all right? You’ve done enough damage.”

“It must be someplace important,” Tiara said. She ran around the Humvee, and she and Timmie jumped in. “We’ll go with you.”

The jeep started and she slipped it into gear. “Get out, Tia.”

“No, we’ll come with you and uncover your mysterious mission along with our viewing audience.”

“Idiot.” Krista punched the gas, and the Humvee roared down the road. “Okay, fine, you know what? You deserve it. You banjaxed this whole bloody thing.” She glanced into the backseat, where Timmie was focusing the camera on her face. “Turn that damn thing off!”

“We’re on a live feed, and I’m sure our viewers –” Tiara said.

“Don’t worry about that. Your feed won’t be live in another five minutes.”

“What do you mean?” Tiara asked.

Krista peered through her window. “That’s when the missiles will blow us all to kingdom come.”

“Missiles arise on columns of fire and shrug off Earth’s surly embrace…wait, the missiles are coming at us?”

“Welcome to No-Crapistan, sister.” She reached for the camera, but Timmie pulled it back. “And they’ll know exactly where to go because Timmie’s broadcasting this live. Brilliant, isn’t it?” She spotted an exit for the Interstate and yanked the wheel. “You’re going to get us killed!”

“Oh, you’ll get us out of it,” Timmie said. “You always cheat the Reaper.”

She lunged into the backseat again but couldn’t get a grip on the camera. “Not if you keep broadcasting, I won’t! Jaysus, couldja at least make it hard for Popo?”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be hard to find us.” Timmie pointed through the windshield. “How many Humvees are going the wrong way on Route 80?”

Krista whipped around and looked at the road ahead. “Oh, crap.”

“Give that girl a cee-gar!” Raphael said. “Vark, how long till we’re in firing range?”

“The first Talon will be in range in four minutes, the second in nine minutes. Blackwing is over target now.”

“And Foxtrot Flight?”

“We could only get three helos in the air, but each has eight Collaterals. They’re over eastern Nevada now. They’ll be wheels-down in twenty-five to thirty minutes if the winds hold.”

“Good job, Vark.” Raphael walked the edge of the podium slowly, trying to devise a foolproof strategy. If he killed or captured Warner on live TV, it would prove how effective the NSF had become under his leadership.

He clapped his hands twice. “Listen up, people. It’s critical to all of us that this operation succeeds. We’re in a time of change. If we want to keep our jobs, we have to show we’re important to the new administration. Redacting a known felon on the run – on a live national feed – is the best way to make a splash. Let’s show America that the Sultan still has some swat, folks. Hold nothing back and err on the side of mission success.”

He watched the Humvee roar toward California. Warner was still a half hour from the safety of the Boreal Ridge camp, and he had more than enough air assets to take her out, but he was still anxious.

“First Talon in range. All missiles armed,” Vark called out.

“Blow her away, Vark,” Raphael said.