Free Extermination Day by William Turnage Page B

long. The final short straw ended up going to a reporter with the Washington Post, Harold Bigsby. Paulson frequently read his column and felt that he generally portrayed both sides of a story well. The man was extremely overweight, however. Paulson guessed he was over 300 pounds. That could be a problem if they needed to do any physical activity. Paulson also thought there was a chance that the bio-suit would be too small for him.
    So that was the three. With the exception of Bigsby, everyone was in good physical condition. Even Paulson, who was easily the oldest in the group, still got up every morning and ran five miles. He also swam when he could. Staying in top physical condition was a habit that had started when he was a SEAL, and he’d stuck with it through his whole life.
    Before the lucky three with the short straws moved to the next cabin and everyone started getting ready for the landing, Paulson had one last thing to say.
    “I want to take a moment. There are many religions represented among you, so you can take the time to pray to your God or Gods as you see fit. But the one tie that binds us is that we are Americans. So I thought it fitting that we stand together and recite the Pledge of Allegiance and then, if Miss Rider would come forward and sing the National Anthem, I would appreciate it.”
    Melinda had sung the anthem at several baseball games and had an excellent voice. The whole reciting of the pledge and singing the anthem might be overkill, but in times of crisis, people needed inspiration. They needed to feel that they were part of something great, something that could motivate them to accomplish deeds they didn’t imagine they could possibly do alone. The pledge and the National Anthem had inspired Americans throughout the nation’s history and they would do so again tonight.
    The American flag was painted on the back wall of the main cabin and the group turned to face it. Paulson began the pledge, and the others followed in unison, their voices building with the power and strength of hope as they finished with the words and the promise, with liberty and justice for all.
    Then Melinda sang a hauntingly moving rendition of the national anthem.
    After she was done, several people hugged each other; others kept their heads bowed for several extra seconds, reciting private prayers to themselves. Many were sobbing quietly. Paulson even saw Colonel Demetrius, the stoic war veteran, wipe a tear from his eye.
    Paulson gathered himself and said, “Okay, people, let’s get ready.”
    The short-straw group began moving to the back of the aircraft to get their bio-suits, when one of the political donors approached Bigsby, the Washington Post reporter.
    The man tried to whisper, but most could hear what he said in the close quarters of the plane.
    “I’ll give you one million for your bio-suit.”
    Chilton McIntosh approached Melinda Rider with an offer of two million dollars. Melinda and Bigsby both turned down the offers. Then the businessmen attempted to argue and negotiate with higher offers as all three short-straw winners continued toward the back the plane. McIntosh screamed out, “Ten million dollars!” but was ignored.
    When they got to the next cabin and the door was closed, Melinda said, “A lot of good ten million will do me if I’m dead.”
    Paulson listened carefully as Dr. Peebles explained how to put on and use the bio-suit. He glanced through the window to where the others were covering up with heavy coats, sweaters, gloves, and anything else they could find in their carry-on luggage. Clothes and bags were strewn around the cabin.
    “I feel like an astronaut in this thing,” said Lieutenant McMiller, his eyes glistening as he suited up beside Paulson. “I always wanted to be an astronaut, fly into space, see the stars. But after our three daughters were born, my wife and I decided I should take a job closer to home.” He looked away after he spoke and stared at the wall in front of