Free Jakarta Pandemic, The by Steven Konkoly Page A

morning?”
    “Maybe later. I’m heading over to Hannigan’s. Didn’t you read the paper?” she asked.
    “No. I left the house pretty early. What did it say?”
    “The new flu is everywhere. They think there might be upwards of around a hundred cases in Maine, most of them in Portland. New York City’s been hit the hardest on the east coast. Boston’s been hit. Hartford. They’ve known since Thursday night that it’s been in the greater Portland area, and nobody said shit. A reporter at The Herald broke the story. It’s even worse on the west coast.”
    “I saw something yesterday morning about the west coast, LA and San Francisco,” he said.
    “Yeah, they tried to keep it under wraps there, but one of the papers cracked it wide open. Why would the government want to keep this a secret? God damned idiots. They never learn,” she said.
    “Probably trying to keep panic to a minimum.”
    “Well, that didn’t work. Some expert from one of the disease control agencies said that everyone should have at least two weeks of food and essentials on hand, maybe more. He said that the virus is spreading faster than expected and that they predict major disruptions to the food supply…and all kinds of other stuff. Saw it on CNF. Anyway, we figured the stores would be mobbed. What about you guys? George is going to head over to Lowe’s when I get back. You two should head over together and take our pickup.”
    “We’re actually set right now with food and supplies. Thanks, though. You should get as much nonperishable food as possible. Water, too. Is your oven propane or electric?”
    “Electric,” she replied, looking slightly annoyed at his brush off and sudden lecture.
    “Then George should get as much propane as possible. Small, green cans like the kind you use for camping, and a couple of the big ones like for your gas grill. If we lose power, you’ll lose your stove. You guys have a camping stove, right?”
    “Yeah, and we probably have a bunch of those green propane canisters, too.”
    “Get more. Hey, if George has any questions about stuff to buy, have him give me a call. I sort of did a project on this topic for my company. You should get going. Could you give us a call at the house to let us know what it’s like at Hannigan’s?”
    “Sure, I’ll give you a call,” she said, closing the driver’s window and pulling the car out of the driveway. She waved as the car accelerated toward Harrison Road.
    Alex continued walking and turned left at the split in Durham Road, taking the long way around the loop, moving into the street at one point to avoid being soaked by the Burtons’ sprinklers. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would still run their sprinkler system this late in the fall. He continued walking on the side of the street and approached the Murrays’ house, which was a standard colonial, gray with dark blue doors and two dormers protruding from the front roofline. Like the Fletchers, the Murrays had a finished walk-up third floor. As he walked by the Murrays’ house, Greg Murray opened the mudroom door and called out to him. Alex walked up the driveway to meet him.
    “Sorry to ambush you like this.”
    “No worries, man. I’ve certainly seen worse, but nothing like those plaid pajama bottoms. Jesus, I hope nobody sees us out here. I’m a little worried about my reputation,” Alex said, staring at Greg’s orange, purple, green, and brown plaid trousers.
    “Thanks, jackass. Carolyn got me these for Christmas last year, and I can’t exactly throw them away. She gets a little sensitive about presents.”
    “A long time ago, I told Kate to leave the clothes shopping to me. She used to buy me the same type of stuff,” he said, nodding at the pants again. “Want to hear a conspiracy theory?”
    “You always do have a new one brewing.” Greg laughed.
    “This one’s old. Anyway, I suspect that the wives buy stuff like this to keep the other ladies at bay, except there’s a fatal flaw