Page 6 of Evolved

That strikes me like a physical blow.

Granis shaking.

Gina blots her tissue under her nose again.

My skin flushes hot and then cold, and I’m somehow aware, deeplyaware,of Knox watching me, his dark gaze boring into mine again, and I have the strange sensation of someone knocking at a door I don’t ever want to open.

I avert my gaze sharply, and when I look back, he’s staring over the fireplace, at that painting of Teddy and the storm that ripples, electric and threatening, behind him.

“Ninety-nine percent is—” I break off, unsure of words, at a loss.

It’s too many.

Far … too … many.

“It’s a cataclysm,” Gran says, lifting her chin, the papery skin of her forehead lined with grief. “A turning point in human history. It’s the end for most of us, but … not … all. One percent is still a lot of people.”

I shake my head. Earth’s population is nearly nine billion. One percent leaves … “Ninety million survivors.” That’s a lot to watch one social media video or sign a government petition. It’s not a lot of people tosurvive. “That’s less than the number of Americans who vote in the primaries. We’re talkingworldwide.”

And they’ll be scattered across the globe, ashes in the wind, stars in the sky.

Statistically, no one at this table is even likely to live.

99% is nearly everyone.

“Do you know the last time Earth’s population was ninety million?” Gran asks. “I had to look it up.”

“No,” I can barely find my voice.

“Five hundred years before Christ. By then, we’d had dams and pumping systems, poetry and maps and lipstick, not to mention the Olympic Games, algebra, libraries, philosophies.” Her mouth shakes. “On the individual scale, there’s no other word for this but tragedy, but on the grand scale, this is not the end of humanity. It’s a turning point. Andwe… are at an advantage.”

All of us look up at that, me from where I’ve been gaping at the wall over her head, and Knox from staring at the carpet between his feet, and Gina from behind her hands, which have migrated up from her mouth to cover her eyes.

“We isolated early because of my kidney problem. It is my belief that will have saved our lives.”

Same thought I’ve had.

“It will fall to us to sew together whatever tattered remains of society survive. We know from government reports and from natural disasters that there will be gangs, there will be violence, people will descend into their worst selves. We will need to unite them and focus them on cleaning up, healing, rebuilding.”

I find my mouth slightly agape that she’s already catapulted forward into a future after this thing is done, but somehow, my brain shifts with her, traveling forward to view a monstrous life.

Millions of corpses.

Waterborne illnesses.

Struggle to find clean water.

People hoarding.

Psychopaths free to act with impunity.

Gran lifts her tea. “They’re recommending any survivors wait three weeks from last exposure before venturing out, and we canuse that time to make an outline of necessary tasks, but I need to know you’re with me. If not, this is a good time to leave. I have a personal job for Gina. She’s going to take a car and set out. Just for a day, and when she returns, she’ll isolate in a private area.”

“Wait, what?” I say. “Where?” She can’t send Gina off? It’s a mess out there. “She’ll get stopped at blockades or caught in a riot.”

“She’ll have a government vehicle and government credentials,” Gran says calmly. “With any luck, she’ll be back in two days.”

“Where is she going?”

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