Apocalypse Drift by Joe Nobody Page B

couple agreed to store some things that neither could bear to part with, such as an antique hall table that had been in Morgan’s family for more than 100 years. The storage space would be paid using the proceeds from the sale of the other belongings. Hopefully there would be a significant amount of cash left over for living expenses on the water.
    On the other hand, the process had been a depressing drain on them. To coldly walk through the house pointing at this, that or the other was emotional at times to say the least. Morgan, as usual, tried to keep things bright and cheery. She would point to a chair and say things like, “I never did think that went with the rest of this room, anyway.”
    Wyatt knew it was all a facade. While neither of them were what he would consider materialistic people, no one could casually dismiss a houseful of possessions that represented a lifetime. The children’s bedrooms had been the worst of it. Wyatt felt like he was selling the foundation of his offspring’s security right out from underneath them. The secure, warm place they could always return to, no matter what, was no longer going to be there.
    His wife surprised him by offering up some family treasures that he believed were “off limits.” At one point Morgan returned from her jewelry box with a handful of pricey-looking baubles. “These gaudy estate pieces once belonged to Aunt Barbara, and to tell the truth, I never did like her much. Can we sell them for the gold?”
    Since the economy had been in the tank for years, Wyatt knew the value of secondhand items wasn’t what it used to be. For a few fleeting moments, he wondered if they could raise enough money to salvage the mortgage, but quickly dismissed the notion. Their comprehensive sale was a one-time event, and in a few months, they would be exactly back where they started, only with no couch to sit on or television to watch.
    Morgan’s paycheck, any part-time work he could find, and the reduced cost of living should see them through. The p roceeds from their going out of business sale would be the seeds of a new nest egg and emergency fund.
    Wyatt was pushing away from the computer, fantasizing about a cold drink from the fridge, when his email dinged. He glanced at the screen and sighed. The small television in the spare bedroom had attracted someone’s attention in Oregon, and a bid was posted. “So it begins,” he said to no one. “So it begins.”
     
    Alexandria, Virginia
    February 2, 2017
     
    The computer servers located in the Internal Revenue Service’s main data center didn’t detect the slight increase in the number of tax returns being filed early. They processed the thousands of normal taxpayer forms with the same speed and efficiency as the bogus submissions sourced from China.
    As each digital return was processed, certain tests were made for data accuracy and co mpleteness of the file. Social security numbers were verified against that agency’s primary database, and if there were no red flags, an electronic message was forwarded to the Federal Reserve to cut a check and mail it to the address indicated.
    Each night, several summary reports were generated and disbursed to various managers, senior agents and others holding responsibility for the service’s daily operations. None of this analysis showed anything out of the ordinary or alarming. It was very common for those owed a refund to be the first to file and receive their checks. It was those who owed the government money that waited until the last minute.
    Another trend that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the IRS involved the country’s economy as a whole. Years ago, government analysts recognized that as the economy worsened, taxpayers wanted or needed their refunds as soon as possible. February, in a healthy economic climate, was a sluggish month. During tough times, people e-filed their returns hour s after collecting their W-2s - the net effect being the service’s workload increased