Quaranteam North West Ch 01 04

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QT:NW is the start of an official Spin Off for the Quaranteam universe originally created by CorruptingPower. You

do not

need to have read the original series to enjoy this one (I really suggest you do though, it's great!), but fans of the original should be pleased to know CP has approved the story and the continuity. These chapters include elements of mind control through chemical substance, and some hot sex (MF).

To combat the deadly DuoHalo virus, the government will change the lives of Harrison Black and his friends out in the hills of Oregon. In return, Harrison finds a new purpose to his life in the midst of losing his family history.

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---Chapter 1: The House Guest--

I glanced away again, relatively certain that Erica hadn't noticed my involuntary glance down at her cleavage but not overly worried. The grocery store parking lot was only half full, but we were waiting out front and I felt like we were in a bread line in Soviet Russia. The only good news was that it was a warm spring for Oregon State, and a clear day, so Erica and I weren't bundled up in jackets or anything.

Of course, we were still getting used to the masks.

"This feels ridiculous," Erica said, adjusting the bandana covering her lower face. She'd done her makeup as usual, with soft but smokey eyeshadow, and her thick dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun. Erica was a well-put-together lady, with the hips and bust of a woman who had aged perfectly into her thirties. I'd known her through our late twenties, and I wasn't ashamed to say I thought she'd only gotten hotter with time. Her black jeans clung to her hips and ass, and the black sweater she was wearing unzipped over a ripped band t-shirt accented the v of her cleavage that I'd been trying not to glance at.

"At least it's not the middle of winter," I said. "Imagine this going on in January, in a snowstorm?"

"We'll never need to see that," said the old man in front of us in line. He was wearing a hunting gaiter, but it was riding low on his upper lip. "This ain't the first virus, it won't be the last. Couple of weeks and the panic will die down. We'll have practically forgotten it by the fall, I bet."

"Hopefully," Erica nodded.

They'd announced the quarantine two weeks ago, and it had gone into effect last week. My roommate Leo and I had invited Erica, his sister, up from Portland - she was going to be cooped up in her apartment alone for the two-week shutdown and we had plenty of space on my old family property. Erica had made the drive the day before the statewide quarantine kicked in, having locked up the Tattoo Parlor she managed, and it had been a week of sun, hiking and ATV tours through the property, along with teaching her how to throw an axe and shoot some archery. Next week we were planning to show her the ropes on gun safety, and let her try out some of my grandfather's old hunting rifles.

Erica was game for it all, and it felt like a mini vacation for all three of us.

What Leo and I hadn't planned for was making meals for three instead of two, and so now a week in Erica and I were braving a trip into town trying to figure out exactly what we were and weren't supposed, or allowed, to do.

Erica turned to say something to me, but her sentence was cut off by the heavy thrum and backfiring of a pair of ugly pickups rumbling into the parking lot of the grocery store on jacked-up wheels, halfway to 'monster truck.' They parked near the back, near my own truck, both vehicles with the stupid 'truck nuts' swinging from the hitches on the back and one of them with a big confederate flag sticker in the back window.

"Jesus, I thought rednecks were supposed to come from the South," Erica muttered.

"There are rednecks in every part of every country," I sighed. "Ask me about German rednecks sometime. Those people are

weird

."

Five men unloaded from the two pickups, and I could see someone still sitting inside one of the cabs. I immediately took in everything I needed to know about the men - my brain couldn't shut off the instinct. Five military-aged males, three who looked like they could handle a bit of a fight. None of them were carrying firearms, no obvious sign of concealed weapons, but several had utility knives sheathed on their belts. Not that uncommon out here in the foothills of western Oregon. Three of them were wearing army surplus combat boots, one was wearing what looked like steel-toe construction boots, and one was wearing hiking boots. Their clothes were blue-collar casual. Rough, in other words.

None of them were wearing any form of a mask. The debate was still out in the news - first, we were supposed to wear masks, then they said it wasn't going to be helpful, and now they were saying wearing masks might be the most important thing. Everyone seemed confused about the issue, but everyone in line outside the grocery store was wearing one of some sort or other.

"Are they seriously going to just-?" Erica muttered.

The rednecks were heading straight for the entrance to the store, looking to bypass the ten or so folks in line ahead of us and another six behind us. I could see the panic in the eyes of the pimple-faced teen manning the door. He had no fucking clue what to do about it.

"Ah, shit," I muttered, already stepping out of line.

"Harrison," Erica cautioned me. "It's not worth it. What's the point?"

"If not me, then who?" I asked her, then raised my fingers to my lips and blasted a whistle that echoed across the parking lot.

Everyone turned and looked at me. All the folks in line, the rednecks as they were about to bull their way past the boy, and the beleaguered kid who I'd already watched bumble through explaining the line to annoyed people, let these alone belligerent assholes.

"Hey," I yelled, but tried to keep my voice more friendly than commanding. "How about you guys show some respect to the folks out here and just grab a spot in line?"

"How about you suck my nuts? We aren't

sheeple

, we know our rights," one of them yelled.

"Yeah, this place can't deny us service, we've got

rights

," another shouted.

"There's a difference between rights and being polite," I said. "Old folks're waiting to get their groceries, you boys can wait fifteen minutes."

"You got a problem with us?" Another one shouted. "You know who the fuck we are?"

"Harrison-" Erica sighed.

"I ain't got a goddamn clue who you are," I said. "And I don't care beyond the fact that you're acting like assholes."

Two of them immediately started coming towards me down the line, the other three hesitating a moment before following.

Fuck

. I'd been hoping they were just some bully idiots, but the two in the lead were way angrier than they should have been.

"Take a few steps back and don't get involved, E," I said quietly. "I'll be fine, but you can't get involved, OK?"

"Harry, what the actual fuck? There are five of them. This is a fucking parking lot. We should just call the cops!" she whispered back.

"I'd listen to your fella," the old guy in the gaiter said. "We got one State Trooper somewhere in thirty square miles of here - would likely take too long to do any good."

"You wanna say that to my face, you fucking fuck?" one of the men said. I'd taken a few more steps out of line, and he got up within a foot of me with his teeth bared and a fist raised threateningly. "I'm a god damned sovereign citizen, and I got every right to protect my dignity, honour and good name against fucks like you."

"Yeah," I said, looking down at him as I breathed in deep and let my full size loom over him. The guy was probably 6'1 or so, but I was 6'6 in my stockings and had an extra couple inches over that from my own hiking boots. "I said you guys are acting like assholes, and otherwise I could give one single shit about who you think you are."

"You motherfucker, I'm gonna-"

"Harrison?" One of the three guys in the back asked. He was one of the ones I'd identified as not being much of a fighter. "Harrison Black, right? You played Defensive End at Eisenhower."

"Uh, yeah," I said. "That was a

while

ago though..."

"Oh man, dude. It's me, Barry O'Callahan. I was a year behind you," the guy said. "Guys, this dude almost single-handedly ran our high school defence. Didn't you end up joining the military or something?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, squinting and looking at Barry. "Really? Barry O?"

"Heh, yeah I filled out a bit since I was a junior," the man laughed, his gut jiggling with the effort. "And then I filled out a bit more. How are you doing, man? When did you get out of the service?"

"Well, I'm doing fine, Barry. Been out going on seven years. But this is a

bit

awkward," I said.

The interruption had been as confusing a moment for the two hotheads in their group as it had been for me. They were looking back and forth between us, trying to decide if they were still mad at me, or mad at Barry, or were just giving it up.

"Oh, yeah. Uh, don't worry guys, Harrison is cool, OK?" Barry said. "Dude, are you just in the area visiting or what?"

"I've been up at the family place for the last few years since Pop died," I said.

"Oh man, I'm sorry," Barry said. "But hey, can't believe we didn't run into each other until now. Who'd a thunk, huh? Here dude, you should come out to the clubhouse sometime. We'll grab some brews, catch a game or something." Barry pulled a crumpled matchbook out of his shirt pocket and handed it to me. The front had a WWII-style blonde pinup girl on a navy background with a white star behind her, invoking the flag.

The Golden Beaver

and an address was printed in tiny letters on the backside. It would have been a funnier innuendo if they weren't referencing the Oregon state flag.

"Yeah, maybe," I said.

"Come on, guys," Barry said, slapping his two hot head friends on the shoulders. "Let's get in line. Nice seeing you, Harrison."

"Yeah, you too Barry," I said. And then shook my head as the five men headed back towards the end of the line.

"What the

fuck

was that?" Erica asked me as I joined her back in line, and we moved up a couple spaces as the teen at the door let more people into the store.

"Honestly, I thought I was about to spend the night in county lockup," I said. "Fuckin' Barry O."

"He seemed like a fan of yours," Erica smirked. "Big high school football star, huh?"

"I was a little above average at best," I said. "And I wasn't an idiot. Easy to look good when the rest of the team sucks." I looked down at the matchbook again and shook my head, showing it to Erica.

She snorted and took it. "Is this real? Please tell me you aren't going to go join their little redneck club."

"Not likely," I said. "It's a wannabe militia group. Bunch of swinging dicks with no sway."

"What?"

"Cause they're so small. It's a tiny penis joke."

Erica smirked again and rolled her eyes. "You child. Can you do me a favour?"

"What's that?" I asked.

"Maybe, for the foreseeable future, you keep the whole Walking Tall routine to a minimum?"

"I'm sorry, did you just make a Dwayne Johnson, early 2000s movie reference?"

"Yeah, I did," Erica grinned. "What are you going to do about it?"

"We need to get you to watch some better movies," I laughed.

"Hey, son," the old man ahead of us said quietly. "Seriously, could you have taken those guys?"

I glanced back at them at the end of the line, muttering to each other. "Probably, if I was right. If I got three of them, the other two wouldn't have done anything."

"Heh. Woulda liked to have seen that," the old man grinned.

"Don't encourage him," Erica said. "He hasn't gotten into a fight on my watch yet, I don't want him to start now."

"Yeah," I said. "But that's mostly because you're the one who usually starts throwing punches at the bar."

"Hey, a guy gets handsy, I put him in his place," Erica shrugged.

"No 'Walking Tall' shit, my ass," I snorted.

"You two make a fine, rowdy couple," the old man said.

"Oh, we're not a couple," Erica said.

"Just friends," I said.

"He's my brother's roommate," Erica clarified. "I'm just visiting."

The old man raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Alright. Well, maybe you two should consider toning down the flirting then. You're likely to attract bears with all the hormones you're putting out."

"Erica, Erica! No, you can not punch him," I said, holding her back.

***---***---***

"Hey, Erica? Can we talk to you for a minute?"

Erica looked up from her phone with a cocked eyebrow and a pensive smile. I immediately realized how weird and out of character our approach was. She was lounging on the couch in the living room, her sketchbook tossed to the side with a half-finished something scribbled out in frustration like she'd been trying to work but just couldn't get it right. I knew how she felt, having had the same frustrations ever since the quarantine had been announced.

"Sure guys, what's up?" she asked.

I let Leo sit down next to his sister on the couch as she sat up, and I took my usual chair. It had been my Father's up until he passed; I'd avoided it the first month after he died and I took over the family homestead. Then when my older sister Valerie and her family came to stay for that summer, she practically pushed me into it. 'It's just a chair,' became our catchphrase for the summer as we sorted through the belongings of our parents and grandparents.

"I'm sorry," I said as I settled into the chair. "This is already coming off weird. Erica, it's nothing."

"You're making it seem like it's something," Erica said. She turned to her twin. "What's going on?"

Leo and Erica were both a couple of years older than me, but once you were into your early thirties that kind of stuff meant a lot less. Leo had the looks of a classic Italian paisan with thick dark hair, a hawk beak of a nose and bushy eyebrows. He was built thin and a little lanky, and was usually ready with an eager smile and word of encouragement for anyone he met. That's probably why we'd gotten along so well when we started rooming together - his positive attitude had been just what I needed coming out of the Army.

Erica had a lot of the same features as her brother - the thick dark hair, the ready smile, the energetic sparkle in her eyes - but she also had a sensuality to her that I can't say I'd ever noticed in Leo. She was a little more patient, a little more sure of herself and willing to take charge of things. And that control went all the way to her fitness, as she hadn't let herself slide even through quarantine.

Leo sighed. "No, it's nothing. Well, I mean I guess it's something, but it's not-"

"How about we just say it, instead of talking about talking about it?" I said.

"Yeah," Erica nodded. "How about that?"

"Well, uh, Harrison?" Leo looked at me, which I guess was fair considering this was my house at the end of the day.

"Erica, we're almost a month into the quarantine now," I said. "I know that when we invited you down out of the city to stay with us, it was supposed to only be for a couple of weeks. 'Two weeks to flatten the curve' and all that shit. But things don't seem to be getting any better."

"No, it's fine," Erica said, sitting up straighter in her seat and pulling away from her brother. "I know I've been imposing on you guys. It's fine, I can head back down to Portland and I'll just-"

"Jesus Christ, Erica," Leo said. "We're not kicking you out."

"You're not?" she asked. I realized that she was clenching her fists in her lap so hard she was trembling slightly.

"Not a shot, E," I said. "We just wanted to make sure that you knew we want you to stay as long as you want or need. We love having you here."

For the first time in my life, I saw Erica's lower lip tremble. "Really?" she asked. Back in the city she was the manager of one of the most successful tattoo and piercing parlours in the state, herding artsy workers that acted like cats with constant access to catnip. Erica was firm but fair with her artists, managed a clientele that ran the gamut from rich and entitled assholes to meth'd out deadbeats, and kept her own skills sharp with constant discipline and practice. Every time we had hung out in the years before the quarantine, I'd always been struck by how forceful a personality she was - she could smack talk with the best of them, manhandle a drunk in a bar like an experienced bouncer, and laughed loud and full-bellied.

Seeing her on the verge of tears was a shock, and I realized we probably should have had this talk two weeks ago. "Yes, of course we do," I said. "God, you're practically family, Erica. I don't think I could

let

you go back and stay in the city right now. We love you."

The damn burst and as thick tears began to pour over her cheeks and streak her dark eyeliner she reached out and pulled Leo into a hug with one arm. She beckoned for me with the other and I crossed the space to wrap her up in a hug as well.

"Thank you," she whispered quietly between us. "I know you guys wouldn't- but still. Everything going on out there, and the way the city is right now... I just didn't-"

"It's going to be fine," Leo said to his sister, squeezing her harder. "You'll see."

She kissed him on the cheek, then turned and kissed me on the cheek as well. "Thank you."

I gave her a bit of a squeeze in return. "We'll need to go get some more of your stuff, I guess. You only came down here with a duffle bag."

She laughed. "God, yes," she said and tried to wipe her tears. "I can go up there. I could use some more underwear, haha."

"Too much information!" Leo said, releasing his sister.

She sniffed hard to clear her nose and wiped her cheeks some more to clear her spilt makeup and tears. Erica had a sort of post-punk or light goth style, with thick eyeliner and soft but smokey eyeshadow. For someone in the tattoo business, she had relatively few piercings, just two in each earlobe and a single small, silver nose ring on one nostril. She made up for it with a pair of full sleeve tattoos on her arms and a collection of assorted smaller tattoos on her legs. "What, you don't want to hear about me sweating through my bras?" She laughed at her brother. "Come on, Leo, we're all adults here."

I laughed at her teasing and she squeezed me to her with the one arm she still had around my shoulder. She turned and kissed me on the cheek again. "I can go down to the city by myself, you guys don't need to risk yourselves for me. All the news reports are saying this thing is extra dangerous for men."

"No, we'll help," I said. "We don't know how long this thing will last, so we'll bring the pickup and you can bring your car. And if you get exposed, you'd bring it back here with you anyways, so we might as well try and do it as fast as possible. Three sets of hands will make things go easier."

"OK," she nodded, then with a last squeeze of my shoulders she eased away and stood up. "OK. Well, damn, guys. This feels like a fucking weight lifted off my shoulders. I've felt like I've been overstaying my welcome, not that you guys did anything to make me think that. I just-"

"It's fine," I said. "We understand."

"I don't," Leo said. "You've been all up in my personal space since the damn

womb

. You never had a problem with it before now."

"Come here, you twerp," Erica laughed, slapping her brother on the arm.

"Alright, alright," I said. "Come on, children. Let's make a plan here. No time like the present, if we get everything ready we can head out tomorrow."

***---***---***

Leo and I had first become roommates when he sublet me a room as I came out of the military seven years ago and wanted to move back to the Portland area. Then, when my father passed and I needed to move back to the family property, Leo had been more than happy to come on up with me instead of trying to find someone new to take over my half of the house lease. The old ranch-style house I'd grown up in had plenty of room, and my mother had died a few years before Dad, so it worked out for both of us. Even before the quarantine was announced we'd both been working from the homestead - my freelance illustration and concept art gigs kept the bills and property tax under control and food on the table, and Leo had swapped to making artisanal furniture in his little shed workshop instead of the house framing and cabinetry he'd been trained in. The old barn made a decent new workshop for him after a couple of upgrades, and once I'd gotten a satellite installed for point-to-point internet service we were... Well, we hadn't exactly been living the technological dream, but we had what we needed.