Quaranteam Se Team Davies Ch 01

Quaranteam: Southeast - Team Davies

Chapter 1

This is a spinoff from the Quaranteam Universe created by CorruptingPower. Reading his work, as well as stories from many other excellent authors such as BreakTheBar, Agathon, Ronan, OtterlyMinBlowing, The_Licentious_Laureate, SilverRyden, BronanTheLibrarian, and others inspired me to start my own story. Thank you CorruptingPower for letting me join in the fun, and to all of rest for their help and support as I wrote this story. Please check out their work! This work is written with the consent of CorruptingPower. Enjoy!

All Characters depicted in sexual situations in this story are over the age of 18.

****Gainesville, FL - Early morning, Sunday, July 26, 2020****

Miles Davies struggled to hold back the tears as he worked his Dremel over the penciled-in letters. He needed to hold it together, for Sean. He blew some wood dust out of the way, then continued to carefully trace the letters, almost there. He had taken his time and stopped once or twice when his hand had started to tremble, until he he'd wrestled his emotions under control. Now, he was very nearly finished.

Sean sat on a stool behind him and to his right, mesmerized by the motion of the print head of his 3D printer as it worked within its enclosure. The pyramid-like shape that was beginning to form would become an urn, should he ever receive his son's ashes. Sean had given him the idea, and Miles had searched the internet until he had found a sliced file that would suit his needs. The print job was several hours along at this point, but still had even longer to go. Upon completion, he would have a Jedi Holocron. He would encase his eldest son's final remains therein, and bury them next to his wife, Beth, using the sign he was crafting now as the grave marker.

Marcus had been a promise to carry on his father's legacy. He'd grown tall in the past year, easily reaching, then passing Miles' 6-foot height by an inch or two. He'd been into tennis, and swimming, which had made him lean and fit, had been a Dean's List student for the past few years, and had been in the final phase of completing his Eagle Scout rank requirements. Just a few more years, and he'd have been off to college, or possibly the Naval Academy. Now, all of that potential was gone. Miles struggled to hold himself together.

He looked up at a picture of his wife, Beth. His Beth. They had met while he was an ROTC midshipman at the University of Florida. She had been a few years behind him, so he had left her behind when he graduated, going on to complete OCS, and then entering the naval nuclear training program, eventually being stationed in up-state New York at the Knolls Atomic Power Laboratories as a staff instructor. He had taken leave to propose to her when she graduated, and they had married a year later. She had kept a home for him throughout his naval career, moving as he changed duty stations, his first posting on the Enterprise, then later serving on the South Carolina, bearing him two sons along the way. When he had transitioned to reserve status, they had settled here in Gainesville, where they had first met.

How he missed her! He closed his eyes tighter, a memory of her echoing in his thoughts. Her wavy blonde hair falling in front of an eye as she grinned at him. The twinkle in her eye betrayed the mischief in her thoughts as she crawled atop him in some long-ago tryst. Recalling her sweet scent, the feel of her smooth skin, the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts brought a familiar ache. He rubbed the tears from his eyes.

Two days earlier, he'd lost his eldest son - some sort of respiratory infection gone awry; seemingly an eternity before that, he'd lost his wife to a drunk driver. The anguish burned into a painful knot, tight in Miles' guts. He'd drawn upon reserves of strength he hadn't known he'd possessed to make it through that terrible Christmas when he lost Beth, doing his best to assuage the grief of his two young sons, Marcus and Sean. In the intervening two years, he'd altered their celebrations away from the exchange of gifts, opting instead to travel to places Beth had always wanted to visit, choosing to celebrate her memory each year-end holiday season by living for her. Last year they'd gone to Key West, the year prior they'd toured the Alamo.

This year they had planned to go see the Grand Canyon. But then COVID came along. Given the state of lockdowns across the country, there would have probably been no trip out of the state this year. Now, with the fresh tragedy of losing Marcus, Miles doubted he and Sean would be going anywhere. Instead, they would need to mourn, and to recover, and to learn new ways to celebrate those no longer with them.

A sniffle behind him brought Miles out of his reverie. Sean was wiping away fresh tears, lost in thoughts of his own. Sean was shorter than Marcus had been. At only ten years old, he still had some baby fat, but unlike Marcus, Sean had his mother's blonde hair and endearing smile. Marcus had been more like his father, with brown hair kept in an inspection-ready cut, and a more serious visage, with his father's far-away look in his hazel eyes. Sean had always been a bit sillier in disposition, quicker to smile. God, he hoped Sean didn't lose that.

Miles finished the final letters on the heavy piece of mahogany and blew away the dust again, eyeing his work.

Marcus Bradley Davies

Dec. 15, 2005 - July 24, 2020

Beloved Son and Brother

"A time too brief for a star so bright"

At Sean's suggestion, Miles had added a silhouette of a Jedi Knight with his saber in a fighting pose. Carving that in with the Dremel had required great patience and care. Miles grinned slightly through his pain - the boys had always loved to pretend to be heroes in Star Wars, and often played at being young jedi doing battle against various adversaries, wielding their mock light sabers or pretending to fight space battles in various online games. Marcus had been in the process of painting a model of an X-Wing fighter before going off to Summer Camp. The unfinished pieces littered a small side table in Marcus' bedroom.

"What do you think, Spud?" he asked, turning to let Sean see the woodwork. Sean got up to get a closer look, running one hand over the board.

"I think that looks great, Dad," Sean choked out, "Marcus would have really liked this. What's next?"

"Well, we need to sand the wood until it feels smooth, then put a coat of varnish on it - maybe two coats, we'll see," Miles explained. "Do you think you'd like to help with that?" he asked, offering a low-grit sanding block to Sean.

The boy nodded and took the block from Miles. Before he could begin, Miles explained what was needed, "it's best to always sand the wood with the grain - see the lines of texture? Follow those lines. Don't go against the grain, it'll look all scratchy." He held the boy's hand and showed him the motion, then let go to watch Sean do it by himself.

Miles' thoughts drifted back to a few weeks prior; he'd been preparing to go to summer camp with his sons along with most of the scout troop and the Webelos den, but events at work had conspired to require him to change his plans. His coworker Ernie Anders had come down with COVID and had to be hospitalized, requiring Miles to take his place delivering an online Sustainability class for juniors in engineering programs at the University of Florida. It was the same course that Miles usually taught during the fall and spring semesters, so preparation had not been an issue. Connectivity had been the limiting factor. Given the lack of Wi-Fi connectivity at the summer camp facilities, Miles knew he wouldn't have been able to run the class from the camp, so he had opted to remain behind. He'd sent Marcus off to camp along with his Uncle Raul and cousin Mary Beth, and Dan Sullivan, the Webelos Den leader had given Sean and Ellie a ride to do the Webelos portion of the camp at mid-week.

His thoughts were brought back to the present by a vibration near his hip. He unclipped his cell phone from its belt holster and looked at it briefly, seeing the caller was Penny, Beth's younger sister. Miles stepped back from the workbench, held the phone to his ear and in a low voice answered, "Hey Pen, what's up?"

"Miles! Thank God you answered! They're sick, Miles! Raul and Mary Beth are sick! Raul had a bad fever last night, started coughing early this morning, and passed out a bit ago. I called 911 right away! An ambulance took Raul to Shands, and I'm getting ready to drive the girls there myself. Mary Beth has also been coughing a lot and running a fever of 102°F, and I've got a low-grade fever myself! The EMT's wouldn't say anything - just told us all to mask up and get to the hospital ASAP! I need you to meet us at the hospital and take Ellie - she doesn't seem sick at all. I'm so worried, Miles! What if..."

"Don't think about that, Pen. Don't even go there. Just get you and the girls to the emergency room and focus on them. Sean and I will mask up and head that way right now - I'll call you when we get there," he said with quiet urgency.

Miles disconnected the call, then stepped over to Sean as he holstered his phone. "Hey, spud - we need to go, now. Aunt Penny, Uncle Raul and the girls had to go to Shands. The others are sick, but Ellie seems fine, so we're gonna go pick her up and watch her for your aunt and uncle. So, let's mask up, and I want you to try to put on a brave face for your cousins."

Sean put down the sanding block, brushed the sawdust off of his clothes and replied with a quick "yes sir!" before pulling his mask out of his pocket and stringing it over his ears, covering his nose and mouth as he'd been taught.

The drive from his house to Shands hospital was nerve-wracking - Miles' house was on the extreme northeast outskirts of town, but Raul and Penny lived almost as far out, just further to the west. He should be able to get there at about the same time, if not before Penny, as he lived closer to Waldo road, which was effectively a main traffic artery. He turned on the radio to distract Sean while his own thoughts travelled dark pathways. More members of their family were sick! Were their illnesses somehow related?

Miles gripped the wheel in frustration. The whole COVID lock-down had started off like some twisted joke, with events seemingly being manipulated to plant fear in the minds of the people and distract them from mounting political issues. Then, earlier this month the President and VP had died, throwing the country into turmoil.

Here in Florida, most sane folks had doubted the hysteria being preached on cable news outlets, but still adopted a pragmatic approach - not adhering 100% to CDC guidelines, but attempting to be very deliberate in their actions, working from home when possible, maintaining the recommended separation, wearing masks when inside - but the lockdowns were taking a psychological toll, and folks were starting to rebel against government recommendations. Many politicians were publicly expressing doubts behind the motivations of the government actors recommending the lockdowns, and some had gone so far as to openly scoff at masks and social distancing.

Their own scout troop had taken a brazen approach, opting to ignore official guidelines and hold a traditional summer camp rather than cancel. The adult leaders had reckoned their risks were slim, as most of them had been self-isolating since returning from the Spring Break sailing trip down in the Keys, at most limiting their gatherings to the extended scouting family of the troop and the pack. All those attending the summer camp were required to test negative for COVID, and temperatures were monitored several times throughout the day while at camp. Neck gaiters had been specially purchased with the troop logo and number printed on them, and all scouts had been advised to wear them when in classrooms or other enclosed spaces, except when eating meals. Miles wondered if the camp had somehow become a spreader event - was it merely coincidence that Marcus had suddenly taken ill and died, and now, a few days later, Raul and Mary Beth were showing what sounded like the same symptoms? Miles was not a big believer in coincidences.

Upon arriving at the hospital, he had to look for a parking spot, the lot being more full than a few days ago, and he immediately called Penny on her cellphone. After a few rings, Penny answered. "Penny, we're in the parking lot right out front of the ER entrance. How far out are you guys?" he asked, as he got out of the vehicle to walk toward the hospital entrance.

"We're just pulling in now," she responded, her voice sounding ragged. "I see where you are - I'll send her over as soon as I can find a parking spot."

"Wait," he urged her, reversing course to head back to his Expedition. "You can have my spot - I'll back out, you pull in, and we'll take Ellie with us while you and Mary Beth head inside."

"Good idea - and thanks," came her clipped reply, as he watched her Tahoe pulling into his row of the lot.

Miles jumped into his vehicle, started it up, and quickly backed out of the spot, allowing Penny to pull in. She'd no sooner parked than her door and the one behind her flew open, with her and Ellie spilling out, each wearing their masks. Ellie came running towards her uncle, while Penny ran around to the other side to help Mary Beth out. Miles put the SUV in park in the middle of the aisle and got out to intercept Ellie.

"I've got to get the two of us in there - I'll call you when I know something. Take care of my baby, Miles. Ellie - you behave for your uncle!" she said, slamming the door and tossing a quick wave as the two of them headed toward the hospital entrance.

"We've got this, Pen. You go on - get in there. Call me later," he waved back, then grabbed Ellie up in a hug. She was shaking and crying, so he just held her for a moment, trying to comfort her, then he stood and led her back to his Expedition. "C'mon, Ellie. We're gonna take a ride in the Beast, and you're coming home with us for now. Buckle up now," he told her, shutting her door as soon as he saw she was belted into her seat.

He got in the driver's seat, looked at Sean in the passenger seat and tousled the boy's hair, then started the SUV and headed for home. He was a little puzzled as he passed a trail of white vans pulling into the hospital as he was pulling out - he had seen military base access stickers on the windshields, and they had government plates on them. He finally saw U.S.A.F. stenciled on the rear door of the last van. Huh. Wonder what's with that? He pulled out and turned toward home.

The traffic on the roads between the hospital and home was almost non-existent, which was the new norm, even for a Monday in a college town. Many of those deemed non-essential were hunkering down at home, or at least minimizing their activities outside their home, and in-person classes had been cancelled for the coming fall semester at the University. Gainesville was eerily silent - almost like right before a hurricane... He had to pull to the side as a lone ambulance turned onto the road up in front of him, headed back the way he came. Looks like people keep needing ambulances, he thought grimly to himself.

The house was dark and quiet when he backed into the garage - having become emptier than ever in the past few days. Miles had briefly considered whether he should sell the house and take Sean somewhere else, away from the memories contained in this home. The good memories did outweigh the bad, but still...

"Ellie, have you had anything to eat yet today? He asked his niece. Seeing her shake her head, he reached for the cabinet, asking her, "Would you like some pancakes?"

****Gainesville, FL - Evening, Sunday, July 26, 2020****

Miles was binge-watching season 3 of Stranger Things upstairs with the kids over DiGiorno Pepperoni pizza when he heard his doorbell ring. Maybe it was Penny, come to get Ellie. He told the kids to go on watching while he went to answer the door.

He paused at the door to wipe the sweat from his brow - now why was he so sweaty? He'd not exerted himself on the stairs, but the house did feel a touch warm - perhaps the AC was on the fritz? He turned on the porch light and checked the peephole. Definitely not Penny. Instead, someone - no, two individuals dressed in biohazard bubble suits were standing on his front porch.

Miles reached over to a basket on the table next to the door, grabbing and putting on a face mask before he opened the door. "It's a little early for Trick or Treat, isn't it, guys?" he asked. "Errr, ladies?" he corrected himself. A pair of young women were in the bubble suits, one carrying a stainless-steel briefcase. He saw the air force logo stenciled on the left-side of one of their breasts...chests? Whatever.

"Mr. Joshua Davies?" the first one asked. "I'm Lt. Jansen. This is Staff Sergeant Mitchel. We're from the 144

th

Medical Airwing out of MacDill. We wanted to follow-up with you about your son's recent death, as well as some other illnesses we believe might be related. May we please come in?"

He paused for just a second, briefly agitated by the casual reference to his son's passing. Miles eyed the young lieutenant closely, then asked, "Why's the Chair Force out here on my doorstep, running this operation, Jansen? Shouldn't something like this fall to the CDC, or at worst, FEMA?"

The Air Force officer bristled slightly at the rub, then looked Miles directly in the eye and replied dryly "Sorry, sir. The good folks at the CDC had a golf match with the Navy this past weekend, with FEMA handling the caddying. Evidently, the Navy brought their own JP-5 Hootch, and all parties are still recovering."

This caused Miles to give her a wry grin. "Fine. Come in," Miles backed away from the door, making room for them to enter, noticing the white van parked in his driveway as he closed the door.

"Perhaps we should sit over at the dining room table. It'll be easier for you to manage in those suits than if we sat in the living room." Miles was a little flustered, but didn't want to let the flyboys in on that. "I'd offer you a drink, but have no idea how that would work, with your space suits and all. Did you say you were air force, or space force?"

"A drink won't be necessary, Mr. Davies," the young lieutenant replied.

"Please, call me Miles. I go by my middle name." he said, thinking she might be cute under that suit. Hard to tell.

The young officer placed her case on the table and opened it. Inside, among other things, was a ruggedized laptop. She pulled that out, and then slid the case over to the noncom next to her. As the lieutenant was booting up her laptop, the staff sergeant pulled what looked like a small, zippered pouch out of the case, along with a small machine of some sort. Pushing the case aside, she opened the pouch, and began to remove a few items, including a packet containing a cotton swab. Opening the packet and removing the swab, the noncom turned to Miles. "I just want to test you to see if you've been exposed to the virus. Oh, and your younger son - we should test him while we're here."

"I have my younger son here, as well as my niece," he explained, looking skeptically at the testing kit. "I had to take her this morning while my sister-in-law took the rest of her family to the hospital. Look - let's test me first, please - we're still dealing with the aftermath of my older son's death, and my niece is pretty worried about her mom and dad. We're all a bit on edge."

"That's fine, sir. We'll start with you. Please take this swab and rub it around the inside of your cheek," she said, taking the swab back from Miles and putting it into a slot on the little machine she'd removed from the case. "This test will take about 15 minutes to complete and will let us know if you have been infected."