April 15, 2025 8:15 AM

Find a way to get online and learn how the disease is spreading (52%).

“We have to figure out what’s happening past Granite Bluff. Just knowing our surroundings won’t matter if the feds plan on stopping the spread with a nuclear option. But if that’s off the table, that tells us something else about where it’s safe to live.”

Way wobbled on two hooves, struggling to stay standing. She fell back a second later, so she didn’t have to concentrate just to stay standing. “It’s been long enough, the effects of this mutation are out there by now. We have to find out how the world is reacting.”

“Guess so,” Ruby said, obviously uncertain. “How do we do that? Everything in Aurora was down, remember? Only the radio still worked.”

Way surveyed the empty fridge and the mostly empty shelves. “We’ve got a satellite receiver in the garage. My parents sometimes take it on their RV, but that’s mostly in storage, so they leave the receiver here for anyone who visits. We just have to get it up onto the roof, and…”

Pray Starlink isn’t down. What was the point of a company for decentralized internet access if it didn’t work during an emergency?

“I might be able to help with that,” Peter said. “Lifting it up onto the roof, getting it wired in. Most of what I did on base was technical work. Civilian hardware should be pretty trivial. And lifting something up–I’ve had more time to practice than you.”

He waved, and a cup floated off the table, bobbing gently over to him. It held right in front of him, long enough for him to take a sip. He returned it to the table a second later, without any visual change to his appearance but the subtle glow from his horn. “Had to give them a reason not to dissect me, so–came up with one. Staff called it Directed Causality Violation.”

“Magic,” Sam said, from her other side. “Less of a mouthful. That’s what Way did to open the fence.”

Peter moved closer to her–closer than Way would’ve liked. When another horse-thing approached from the side, she had to look sideways at him. That put his face very close, and his breath.

She would’ve expected him to be taller. As it was, Peter was near enough to right at eye level.

“Fine. We can do magic. Most of us can–does make it seem like there’s a common source for this infection. You two came from the same lineage as I did. Birdbrain got it somewhere else.”

“Careful.” Sam opened his beak, demonstrating just how sharp it was. “Might not want to talk to me like that. Mainly ’cause you’re wrong: Way and I both got our genitals all rearranged. And everything that comes with it. You two didn’t have to go through that.”

“Lucky you,” Way agreed, muttering under her breath. “But I think we can split up. Ruby, if you think you’re brave enough… there’s a store near the edge of town, with a big red building. They sell farming supplies. Given the way we look… I’m thinking that’s the most cost-effective way to get more supplies. Oats, barley, wheatberries–they’re sold in bulk, because horses are huge. And they still need to be edible, for obvious reasons. And lots of those people keep to themselves, so they might not ask questions. Just go in, pay quick, and get out again.”

“I’ll ride along,” Sam said, without missing a beat. “In case things get ugly. I’ve got the tools to get her out again.” He spread his wings. Maybe he planned to take off and demonstrate the point, but the kitchen wasn’t quite big enough. He only smacked Way in the face and looked sheepishly away again.

“Seems fair to me,” Peter said. “We’ll see what we can do about getting connected while you’re gone.”

They unloaded the car, opening every inch of space to hold more cargo. Then they were off, with Ruby at the wheel and Sam hiding under a blanket in the backseat.

Way waited for them to vanish down the street before directing Peter to one crate among many from the storage in the garage. “If you could get that one down, the receiver’s in there.”

Peter grinned, his horn started to glow–but the box only jiggled in place. His expression faltered after a few seconds, and he looked away. “Too heavy. I think your folks overloaded that crate. Maybe we can lift it together?” He eyed her horn as he said it. “I’m guessing you’re stronger than I am. Either that, or all that extra bone is just for show. Maybe it had to get longer than mine, on account of…”

He flicked his tail against her side, without actually saying anything. But Way could make a guess, even if he didn’t say so.

“The only time I did it was by accident. I don’t know how to make the powers just work because I want them to. I’d love for you to explain. Without talking about my missing dick, if you can help it.”

That did it. He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again before he could say something dumb. “I, uh–maybe we’ll practice that another time. When I was learning, I sometimes damaged things. We only have the one receiver.”

Getting it down took almost an hour. Without ‘magic’, they had to move all the boxes atop it by hand, knocking them to the ground then replacing their contents. Finally they got the plastic tub with electronics, and extracted its precious cargo.

Getting it onto the roof was the easiest part–just a matter of carrying the receiver and the cables up to the attic, then Peter levitating it up onto the roof where they usually reached by ladder. The WiFi router was already inside, configured from previous years. A few clicks, and it was online.

At first. Service was still up, but it refused to navigate them past a few basic government websites. The most prominent depicted: Southwest NEM10 Outbreak FEMA Resources. It included an ongoing tally of verified infections, with a number somewhere near half a million. Navigating the rest of the page showed specific by-state resources. Colorado showed several locations–shelters for the uninfected, and “Isolation hospitals” for those showing symptoms.

“DENVER AND THE SURROUNDING COUNTIES ARE IN MANDATORY ISOLATION. NO INTERSTATE TRAVEL IS PERMITTED.”

They had only one laptop between them, Ruby’s own school computer. That meant Peter and Way had to sit close together to use it, occasionally fighting over the mouse. She couldn’t use the keyboard at all, though he could–slowly.

“Looks like… all the western states on this map have known infections. Things are doing a little better on the eastern seaboard. But Virginia’s red, DC probably isn’t far behind.”

The site had other information–more than they’d seen so far. A basic description of the disease was now provided, though it didn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know.

“NEM10 begins with severe flu-like symptoms. These worsen over the first 4-7 days, and may be fatal in some patients.

EXTREME DANGER: Those who die from NEM10 infection become dangerous physical vectors. Euthanizing patients in this phase guarantees this outcome, and must not be used. Instead, make every effort to preserve the infected, or to isolate them as far as possible from a healthy population.

There is no current known treatment for NEM10. No protective equipment will guarantee safety for frontline personnel. Using survivors of the infection to treat patients is the only sure way to prevent infection.

Once an individual survives NEM10, they cannot be reinfected. However, they remain a vector for the infection. Though their viral load is negligible, other factors appear to propagate NEM10 between them and uninfected humans. The cause is still under investigation at this time.

All survivors of infection should isolate from healthy individuals as soon as possible. There is NO safe level of exposure. BSL-4 is insufficient to prevent infection. Survivors should report to isolation areas until the source of the spread can be identified and prevented.”

The map had many of these “isolation areas,” at least one for every large population center. The one nearest to Aurora was…

“We got out just in time,” Way said, pointing. “Looks like they were about to lock everyone onto campus.”

Peter stood up, brushing past her over to the window. He tilted the blinds open, though not all the way. They would still obscure the view from the street. “In a way, that’s the worst case. Infection is already completely out of control. Probably gonna spread to… everyone. I wonder what the fatality rate is across large populations. How many homicidal monsters are out there? How many when it spreads to Granite Bluff?”

He stopped right beside her, one foreleg on her shoulder. “Do you have any firearms?”

She nodded. “I have a handgun. My dad kept a few old rifles and a shotgun here at the cabin. And…”

She lowered her voice, looking away from him. “A few compound bows. My sister and I both got into archery after Return of the King. Don’t ask.”

Peter relaxed. He kept the foreleg on her shoulder, meeting her eyes. “No shit? Can you still use it? Or… could you ever?”

Her ears folded backward, but his leg made it impossible to look away. “Yeah we could!” Though my sister’s is closer to the right size now. “Except for the whole ‘horse’ thing. She shifted her legs beneath her, nudging the mouse with one. “Maybe after I master ‘magic.'”

She wanted to learn more, but the internet didn’t want to connect to much else. She could access basic warning information: US passports had now been banned from entry into every foreign nation. Even US island territories were refusing refugees from the mainland, with warnings of lethal force against any who violated these restrictions.

“So we’re expected to go back to Aurora and turn ourselves in,” she finally finished, about an hour of searching later. “Where they’ll keep us on the same college campus that had monsters trying to kill us at night.”

“And God knows how long they intend to keep feeding us,” Peter agreed. “Yeah, not a chance. We should keep our distance. Though…” he leaned closer, nudging her away from the laptop with his weight. “I might be able to get past that block. Not sure how much of the internet is still working past it. It’s way more delicate than most people think.”

“See what you can do,” Way said, rising from her seat. “It would be nice to talk to family. And find a way to keep in touch with other people who got changed, so we can share information. Like how to float things–that seems pretty useful.”

Peter lowered his head to the laptop, focused on whatever he was doing. He held one foreleg over the keyboard, but didn’t actually touch it directly. Instead, his horn glowed, and the keys moved on their own.

“But if I pull this off, you have to get a drink with me,” he said conversationally, while he worked. “Wasn’t a lot of food in this place, but I saw wine down in the pantry. Fair?”

She glared back at him. “I told you already, Peter. I was a dude before. Were you not listening?”

He shrugged. “And your walls are thin.” He looked away from her, focusing on the keyboard in front of him. “I didn’t say it had to be soon. But we’re about to be stuck in this place for… God knows how long. It would be nice to find a way to stay busy in the meantime. Just say you’ll do it sometime. Doesn’t have to go anywhere.”

She approached him, ready to smack him with one of those stupid stump-legs. But she stopped short. Something about that silly grin on his face, or maybe the smell—she looked away. “Not tonight. But eventually, I will.”

“Great! Awesome. I’ll put it in my calendar. Now… have you thought about our plan in the meantime?” he asked, conversationally. “When they get back. What do we do here?”

She had known that question would come, which was why she’d been turning it over in her mind since the other group left. “Some options are better than others,” she began. “But I think we’ll—”

1. Just stay out of sight and wait for things to blow over.
2. Focus on learning more about the infection.
3. Try to make contact with other survivors and build something together.