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call? He blew up the street.”
    “Jesse blew up the street?” Chuck laughed. “I’ll call him tomorrow. He’s probably sleeping. Thanks, David.”
    After hanging up, Chuck just stayed there on the side of the road. He lifted the notes he had taken during his call to George, then reach ed out to increase the volume on the radio. Three times, he glanced from his notes to the radio. “Man,” he whispered in confusion. “What is going on?”

2.     THE CHANGE
     
May 6 th …
     
    Scientists attributed it to enriched soil, perfect weather conditions, and immunity to p esticides, a ll of which built through out the year s, until finally… boom. It hits. That was the exp lanation for the sudden surge in the ant population that seemed to plague the Northeast United States. It didn’t make sense to many, but it was accepted. After all, the scientific community presented it.
    Bret’s street looked like a war zone. They hit the pest lottery, and a huge ant colony was discovered existing under the street. Sidewalks were lifted, pavement and black top removed, all to unc over it. The borough worked diligently to destroy it. But every attempt seemed futile, and the ants returned in ten fold.
    They dug twenty feet downward, close d off the street and suggested flood ing the pit . Though it sounded insane, it was worth a shot, and to Bret anything that stopped her from buying all those round traps was a bonus.
    That was one pest.
    There was another not mentioned at all by the borough.
    The cockroach.
    There must have been something attractive to them about Buster’s bowel movements, because the third roach was found in his diaper.
    Though Sally had set traps and not seen a single roach in her ho use, she called an exterminator, t he only one who wasn’t overwhelmed with work and could promise he’d stop by within a week. The pest control business was booming, at least in Bret’s town.
     
***
     
    If Chuck didn’t trust Bret’s producer as much as he did, he would have sworn David was pacifying him about the fax. But David insisted he faxed the caller log t wice. Finally, Chuck went to David’s home and picked up the document.
    The Erie , Pennsylvania story kept him there an entire day. When he returned the next, he spoke to Bret and David. Chuck was a man on a story mission, and before he finished the piece, he wanted more information and facts. Those were to come from Bret and David. Chuck d idn’t fear someone scooping him; the severity of the Pittsburgh ant incident was swept like bugs under the rug, and no one took it serious ly .
    The newest McDonald’s creation dripped a ketchup mixture on to his lap, and Chuck only smeared it when he used the rough napkin. Car eating was always a sloppy task for Chuck, but he had no choice. At least he was parked.
    Rolling the napkin into a ball, the red speckled paper snapped his mind back to the day before. He followed a name that came up twice in Erie—a man he spoke to only briefly—and that trail led him right outside Canton , Ohio.
    “Dr. Andrew Jeffers,” Chuck requested of the soldier who was posted outs ide of the abandoned small church. “Tell him Chuck Wright, The Johnstown Tribune Democrat.”
    The so lider nodded to another soldier then slipped in between the double doors.
    Chuck took in the site. The small white building had several black cars and military vehicles pa rked outside. It was deemed the ‘Temporary Office of the Federal Department of Agriculture.’ As if Can ton required the United States g overnment to step in to help with their minor farming needs.
    Chuck assumed that this extension had been quickly set up and was temporary. But why where they here ?
    The soldier returned and opened the door for Chuck, allowing him inside, b ut he was only permitted to go into the foyer.
    He let his ears zoom in like the bionic woman, trying to hear what he could. Within seco nds, Dr. Andrew Jeffers emerged in a secretive manner from the interior of the