Boston Under Siege (Book 1): Virus: by Willson Fisher

Author:Willson, Fisher [Willson, Fisher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Publisher: Sylphar Press
Published: 2020-04-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25: Watch This

Ami stroked the cat after their ordeal wrestling zombie Mrs. Needlebaum into the large capacity dryer in the laundry room. She sipped hot tea as the cat lapped up reconstituted powdered milk. “We’ll never do laundry again, will we Miss Kitty? Nuh-uh. Never, ever again.”

She left the cat in the kitchen and went to spritz her hair in the bathroom. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she combed out her brown hair in long strokes. It’s starting to look shabby, but washing it is out of the question despite the steampunk recycling system. Better to keep the water for drinking. She set the comb down, and rubbed her eyes. You’re exhausted. You need to sleep, Ami. Your hair is fine.

She slept restlessly. Hours later, her phone chirped. She grabbed the phone. Message? Trips?

The GPS showed he was en route to Sand and Gravel. Oh, man, that ain’t good. Middle of the night run? Ami pinched the display on the phone. “Dang it, can’t see jack all.”

On her laptop, the new version of Ichiro’s GPS program loaded, but the software wouldn’t run. She dialed Ichiro with the computer sitting beside her.

Ichiro answered on the third ring. “What? I'm a little busy right now!”

“The thing isn’t right on my system,” Ami said, chewing a stick of jerky like a cheroot. “I'm looking at your stupid-ass instructions for changing the app in C++, but I don't have time for this crap. Trips is at Sand and Gravel and I need it now!”

“I'll send you the source code.”

“I can't freakin’ do the conversion!”

“Have you been drinking?”

“What?”

“You're being belligerent.”

“Am not! Give me the thing!”

“Ami, I've got to go.”

“Ich, don’t hang up.” Ami tried not to whine, but she knew her voice was getting pitchy. “It’s too little on my phone, Ichiro.” She squirmed under the covers, her feet pedaling. “When I pinch the view the pings are too hard to read. C'mon!”

Ichiro growled, “I'll send you something,” and hung up.

Ami hopped out of bed and made another cup of tea. Ooh, he makes me mad as a hornet! He can see the logic and construction in any computer language he comes across. Not me. I’d have to pour over books and look at message boards before I could even attempt to code my way out of a paper bag. Goddamn it, I hate him, sometimes.

The phone chirped. It was a source code file from Ichiro. Within a couple of keystrokes Ami was reinstalling the program, but the MD5 hash and the password were in separate messages. What a pain in the ass he is. It’s been so long since we’ve exchanged encrypted crap I’ve forgotten how to do it. His encryption is his own variant of the NSA's Skipjack. What else…think.

She drummed her fingers on her lip and looked up her notes. “They’re encrypted. Figures.”

After running several converters, she found one that asked for a key. Bingo! She was in. Ichiro’s GPS app successfully installed on her laptop. She celebrated with some butter cookies and a shot of whiskey.

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