First 12 Chapters - How I Became A Crazy Cat Lady To Survive A Zombpocalyse

3

Chapter 3

One year later. . .

Walking around with the phone on her shoulder, Babs chewed her lip as she pulled a copy of a news magazine with a picture of a giant aircraft carrier with the number seventy-eight on the side next to a floating white platform with a flame. The entire magazine was about the new Reagan Carrier Memorial and the five thousand sailors lost.

"I think the risk of real war is very low, I mean, the U.N. controls North Korea now and it isn't like they could bomb Baltimore or even Alaska. They don't even have enough fuel oil to heat their homes, let alone launch a missile and the Navy is standing by in case they try anything else," Babs answered her therapist's question.

"I am glad you feel that way so many of my other patients are terrified of nuclear war... Now, let's talk about the latest shutdown. We are at level three. How do you feel about the information the public is getting after it was revealed the vaccine is only ten or twenty percent effective?" Dr. Merced asked as she put the magazine in a paper bag and then books in other bags.

The resurgence of Pandemic Four's viral respiratory failure syndrome, which was an adult version of the pediatric R.S.V., along with some new pneumonia infection caused Babette to start having anxiety attacks. All she could think about was how her father died alone in his home because the ambulance took three hours to respond to his health alert emergency call.

"I just. I'm angry... I don't watch the news about it, because then I panic when I think about anyone touching the books. What if I can't get them sterilized properly? What if the 'whatever' disease can't be removed from the paper like smallpox or scarlet fever?"

"But is this about the books or your father's death? How are you processing that grief?"

Babs sighed as she admitted to her therapist. "My father was very elderly and after decades of smoking a pipe, he was in the highest risk group for VRFS. I understand why he died."

"You say that so calmly but has your heart and mind really accepted his death and that you are alone in the world." Dr. Merced prodded her carefully. Mattilda Pratt insisted that all employees have mental health support due to the stress of lockdown beginning again when the vaccinations were proven to be only ten percent effective.

"I am not really alone. I have my friends and coworkers. I still have my mother's family in California," Babs repeated what she said last time.

"Family that you aren't on speaking terms with... And you have admitted that your coworkers aren't really your friends. They have had several get-togethers without inviting you... Have you and Bill had another date?"

"We can't go out again. The shutdown..." Babs made the excuse to avoid restaurants, but it rang untrue even to her ears.

The one date she had with the grocery order manager ended with her in the emergency room and being diagnosed with another food allergy. There was a new, organic food preservative called Pharaoh's Yeast Extract that was supposed to extend the shelf life of food indefinitely but for people with yeast allergies, it was deadly. Babs had always been mildly allergic to yeast used to make bread and pastries, yogurts and cheese, and some processed meats and broths, but this new preservative seemed to be in everything from dried spices to pasta noodles and in all processed or canned foods. Because it was considered organic, many of the foods on her safe list were now toxic to her and she had to carry an Epi-pen whenever she left home. It was even being used as a soak for fresh fruits and vegetables by the mass market groceries. The only thing that saved her from starving was that it made frozen foods spoil faster once they were thawed and that there were a dozen countries that didn't permit the use of Pharaoh's Yeast for religious or cultural reasons.