Reset: A Post-Apocalyptic Sci-Fi Fantasy (Contaminant Series Book 1) by Eli Frost Duham Page B

smaller ones were left on their own in a horrific state of civil unrest.  It had been that way ever since.

Chapter Two
    It was just after 9:30am when the doors to the Oval office opened.  Michael stood up and, with a brisk walk, went to enter the office.  But he stopped just short of the door, letting Chris enter first instead.   She only looked him and rolled her eyes.
                Both presidential aides entered and made their way to sit on the couch opposite the President in the lounge portion of the office.  Just behind the President and to the left, a bodyguard stood like a statue, a very alert statue.  President Rosenthird was going over his clipboard and half-muttering to himself.  Michael and Chris waited patiently until he snatched off his reading glasses and looked up. 
    As if he was trying to cleanse away the sleep deprivation, dark circles, and burden, Rosenthird scrubbed his eyes and cleared his throat, “What’s on the menu for today?”
    Michael went first with his written correspondence.  “Mr. President, several countries have offered aid in exchange for land, stock, and other resources… ”
    Rosenthird nodded his head slowly in contemplation, “Germany? China?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Denied. These bastards want to eat us alive… How many countries want to buy us?”
    “23, sir.”
    “Yeah…” Rosenthird gave a quick shake of his head, “No.  Denied.  Next.”
    “Central Intelligence Agency still has a cold trail.  No new info.”
    “Yeah, figures.  They sent that in an email?”  Rosenthird’s face was incredulous.  Neither Michael nor Chris could disagree with his reaction.  The CIA, sending emails on an unsecured line, it was as ridiculous as their current situation and truth was that hope and commonsense was running dangerously low. 
    “Sir, most of these emails, faxes and letters are from the vultures.” Michael spoke frankly as he did every morning when President Rosenthird tried to go through every bit of correspondence as part of his due diligence.
    “When are they not?  It’s been the ‘same ole’ for months now.” Rosenthird polished his eyes once more.
    “The rest were dropped off from angry citizens.  They think we’re living it up in here.” Michael noticed that the president had lost some weight along with everybody else who ate at the White House.  The meals were meager and full of bread and beans.  But still, they were getting two meals a day which is two meals more than the small towns that have been overrun by gangs.
    “Well, let’s move on then.  Christine, what have you got for me?”
    “Mr. President, at noon, you’ll be meeting with constituents of Jenna Olson of Omaha, Nebraska.  She and her team of scientists have found a way to clone food.  Also, they can make vitamins with amino acids and such.
    Rosenthird shook his head in disgust, “There’s got to be another way.”
    Chris used her best matter of fact tone, “Not before we lose the dollar, sir.  Food prices have more than doubled.  Even if we find enough food, at the rate of inflation, nobody can hardly afford it.”
    Rosenthird after a sigh of resignation nodded at Chris to continue.
    “In fifteen minutes, it’s the Joint Chiefs of Staff meeting.  The others will have reports that Marine Corps General Griffith will be presenting.  This includes a debriefing of Operation Stance.
    Rosenthird scooted near the edge of the seat and sat up straighter.  He was putting on his game face, “Anything else?”
    Chris nodded to Michael and he began, “Food Aid Rite is delivering, every hour, a shipment of food, seeds and soil for a total of 1.4 million pounds to be exact.” Michael beamed as he spoke.  It was his outreach that prompted the collaboration and collection of food.  And ever since, Food Aid Rite had been an aggressive front for support. 
    “On the downside, this will be the last shipment for a while until things calm down.  It was also sent in one