05

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Many thanks to CorruptingPower, Ronan, OtterlyMindblowing, BreakTheBar, The Licentious Laurate, Julius Drake, Agathon, 32Inch, and SilverRyden for not only permission to write in this shared world but also for the help and support to write all of this. Check out their work!

This section will deal with violence, corruption, attempted coercion, actual (consensual) sex, and extremely bad cooking.

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Bronan The Librarian

]

Chapter Three

-o0o-

July 22nd, 2020

Colin lay on his stomach in the pre-dawn light, shotgun lined up as his heart beat nervously. He was out of other options but still hesitated. The fact he suspected that he was next to a carpenter ant nest wasn't helping him keep still. But he had run out of time....

BLAM

The turkey couldn't even let out a cry before flopping over and kicking out the last of it's life 20 yards away. Colin put his head down in relief that it was over before quickly standing up, brushing twigs, pine needles, and ants off of his shirt. After the military had closed off Deer Park the other small stores in the area had shut their doors as well. Even if they weren't convinced about the viruses floating around the locals were quick enough to know that a few hundred soldiers as their new neighbors meant that the lockdown was a lot more likely to be enforced. Unless he was going to go out, hat in hand to beg for his supper from the Army... Colin needed to find a new source of protein. He had lost some weight over the last few months mostly due to neglecting to cook meals on the days where he couldn't make himself do more than wander the woods or sit and watch the little valley from the porch. He hadn't been a very good cook before the world went to hell and the isolation had seen him only master the art of getting rice that didn't burn to the bottom of a pot and some dishes that Raina would have pronounced "marginally edible."

He stood over the bird, feeling a glimmer of remorse. He had been taught to shoot by a friend of a friend who had given a gruesome object lesson in the results of shooting at a living creature. The older man had taken Colin and his friend out to an empty field, given them the safety talk, and told them to each wait for a gopher to pop out before taking a shot. After two gophers were dead, Lenny had brought both boys out and made them see close up the damage that their shots had done. "Never forget," Lenny had rasped out, "that this is the result of a bullet. They're tools with just one job and it

ain't

putting critters or people back together. Anything you ever put in front of the barrel? You better be ready for this to be the outcome."

His parents had been furious but he never forgot the lesson.

There was also the fact that he had neglected to check what the side-by-side double barrel shotgun was loaded with. The front of the bird was gone along with part of the neck as it had taken a hit from a 12-gauge deer slug instead of the bird shot he had thought was loaded. But dead was dead in this case. Colin had watched a few YouTube videos on hunting and how to clean an animal once it had been brought down. He just wished that he had something better than a borrowed kitchen knife from the cabin to work with. He winced as he cleaned the bird as best as he could. He didn't mind the blood but the feel of the organs.... Yeah he almost lost it there. Bringing the turkey back he went through the steps of scalding it and plucking it. How, he wondered to himself, how did anyone do this shit for fun?

As he waited for the requisite time for the bird to be ready to pluck he flinched at the distant sound of a pop and the lights went out. Damn it. A power outage was going to be even more of a pain in the ass. Colin covered the pot with a lid as he tried to figure out how to start the generator. The freezer would be fine with his remaining meat and the liquor that he hadn't touched for a month. The compressor was humming along just fine even with some of the clouds moving in and presumably would keep going off the heavy duty battery set overnight. The generator, however, he hadn't bothered to maintain and turned out to require gas instead of the propane that he had brought all the way out here. But with everything closed up and pretending that he could survive on what he could hunt?

It was probably time to call his full isolation over and try to find somewhere new.

As he began to sort through his belongings he paused. The only man made object that he could see from the cabin was a set of the massive transmission towers that crossed the next ridge. He assumed that there was a hydro-electric dam somewhere to the north that was pushing power downstream to a transformer station somewhere. As the clouds covered the sun, he caught a brief glimpse of something. Someone was climbing down from the tower.

It would be a little eye catching at the best of times but as the tiny figure disappeared below the treeline Colin caught something that chilled his blood. The wires were hanging loose. A quick look at his phone confirmed that he had lost signal. And with power out, his internet was gone as well. Someone looked to be sabotaging the power and he couldn't even try to call the least helpful dispatching team in the country.

As he strained to see, a flash of movement caught his eye as a truck moved down the cleared area under power lines. And then two more followed it. Whatever was going on was definitely outside his comfort zone... but no one who could do anything about it would have a clue unless he went out and told them about it. Shit.

The wind had picked up and the clouds were darkening. The afternoon storms had become less numerous as the summer wore on but Colin knew that the drop in temperature and feeling in the air meant that they were due for some strong ones tonight.

Fuck it, he thought. What did he have to lose chasing down some destructive rednecks?

Grabbing the waterproof windbreaker from the coat hook where he had left it Colin grabbed the shotgun and a case of shells. He didn't know what he planned on

doing

with those shells but he really didn't feel like getting caught with his pants down for whatever was happening.

-o0o-

Grace was feeling it. Whatever the vaccine did it was fucking

doing it

. She had finally managed to get her hands on the pamphlet that the nurse had tried to give her the day before and it really only outlined the exact parameters by which she was hosed. The effects of the serum hours were well and truly in play. She was about ready to slap a tree branch between her legs and crack it with her thighs just for a chance at some wood. The page about how you would get bonded mostly covered the quote-unquote "mind shattering" imprinting process and the horrible melting of your body if you went raw dogging with someone other than your partner after imprinting.

She had been reading it for the first time when she looked up and saw Flannery watching her with a cruel smile. Maybe it wasn't any different than his normal smile, but this time it had struck a dagger into her heart.

The assignment two days before had indeed been a road trip where she drove down to Fairchild Air Force Base to pick up several unmarked crates, a group of scientists, and a Navy Officer of all things. She had managed to hold herself together through that day where she was mostly on hand to deal with a potential medical issue involving a spill of whatever was in the crates. Frankly she was there to stand around and watch the enlisted grunts move the boxes and continue to freak out. She did get to hear rumors from the base personnel about someone screwing with their inventory but Grace was beyond any potential worry about lost supplies. As the day wore on she had begun to feel the insistent horniness of the vaccine start to take hold of her.

She had managed to get to sleep upon their return, but no amount of privacy and quietly trying to rub one out had done more than make the problem worse. The next morning she went through her duties feeling like someone had a remote control to her body's reaction and was just slowly turning up the power to her arousal. After lunch even Flannery's stupid, leering face ceased to turn her off. Very quickly she was discovering that the bastard knew what was happening to her and was just fucking

waiting

for her to crack.

Fuck him, fuck that, and

fuck

the Air Force and their stupid sex cure.

The whole day had been pure torture. Luckily for her, taking a sick day had been an option since there was nothing but paperwork on her plate. Paperwork and an otherwise innocuous meeting scheduled with the Colonel.

She sat in her tent or the stifling heat of the latrine silently begging any deity who happened to be listening to take pity on her in between frantic bouts of masturbation. Those all ended with her giving up in frustration as her body decided it would be a fun game to hold her right at the mind numbing edge of orgasm but never to let her tip over. None appeared to be paying any attention. She took four showers and had the eyes of the other women around the camp locked on her. She could

feel

them staring and was sure that there was a wave of whispers following her as she wandered in a mental fog. Grace felt like a fucking deer during hunting season with Flannery as the hunter. Unseen but lurking and just waiting to take his shot.

The time for her appointment came and went.

The officer from the new group that she had escorted in what seemed like a lifetime before had approached her just after a dinner rush that she had no appetite to join in on. He was a Navy Commander in his blue-on-grey uniform, the name tag declaring him to be "Jones." "Sergeant Cressman? You're with me. I've got to brief you before we head out."

He led her to one of the tents next to the motor pool and she joined a group of 10 other enlisted troops from the security forces and the local Guard. They were all loaded for bear and carrying M4s with extra ammo. At the front of the room was a dark skinned woman in a lab coat standing next to 3 silver cases the size of a very busy lawyer's briefcase. She sat in the back as the Commander stepped smartly to the front of the tent.

"Good afternoon. Some of you have certainly heard about the prototype vaccine that the Air Force is testing. The short version that you are all cleared for is that yes it exists. Yes it has some side effects. And yes it is in those cases." He gestured to the cases behind the woman.

"We will be loading up and traveling north to the Canadian border to drop off these 40 doses. They are in terrible shape up there so this is considered a priority mercy mission. We will be moving in a convoy of 3 Humvees and not stopping for hell nor leather. There isn't any known opposition but... several other assets and personnel related to this serum have been attacked by outside forces. We suspect foreign spec ops or intelligence agencies have been involved in those events so we are moving fast here to keep the chances of anything happening here on our home turf low. You are among the few that know this exists let alone that we are making this run so we are going to drive these shit boxes to the rims to stay ahead of anyone who wants to get their hands on it."

The briefing was rushed and went over the route and the point of contact at the far side where they would trade the doses of serum for a pair of Canadian nationals that would be transported back to the camp. Grace had zoned out slightly and realized that her job was to check vitals on the Canadians and make sure they were clear of Duo or Covid. Jones looked out over the assembled troops and nodded confidently. "In, out, and done within 7 hours. 3 hours up to the border and then back with an hour of wiggle room for the trade and any questions from our neighbors to the north. Let's pack it up and move."

Grace had done her best to at least look focused but the feeling of the vaccine grabbing her by the cootch was making staying on task a pain in the ass. She was about to step out and grab the gear that had been collected for her but the Commander called her over next to the cases and the lab coated woman. "Sergeant... are you ok? You seem a little distracted."

Grace's breath caught in her throat. Jones and the woman were giving her a close inspection. She had to play this a bit carefully... but her heart soared. They were some of the same folks that had just come into the camp that morning. And since Jones was Navy there were good odds that he wasn't working with Flannery to do whatever the fuck the Colonel was trying to get away with. "Actually sir... Um. I got my dose of this Quaranteam vax yesterday and it's messing with my head a bit. I should be good to go, sir. I'm ready to be out of the camp for a bit."

The pair looked at each other in surprise before the woman spoke in a soft southern accent. "John... Sergeant Cressman wasn't on the list was she?"

The Commander frowned. "No. And there shouldn't be anyone here able to change that list. Cressman, how the hell did you get that shot?"

Grace couldn't help it. Her legs gave out enough that she had to sit in a chair in front of the map. "Colonel Flannery brought me in for it last night. Then he had me do the Oracle test. He never said anything about a list or why I was getting moved to the front of the line or why the test spit him out as the only match for me."

Commander Jones had some truly impressive eyebrows, like two thick caterpillars about to meet in the middle of his forehead. Grace was slightly distracted by the way that they showed his emotions so well as they drew down in anger. "God damn it. Sharron, can you look her over please. This kind of stupid shit is exactly what we were afraid of."

He stormed out of the tent leaving Grace with Sharron. The black woman watched Jones leave before shaking her head with a fond smile and beginning a quick check up of Grace's pulse and pulling a pen light to check her pupil response. "It's just us right now, Sergeant. No need to sugar coat it. How are you feeling?"

Grace let out a single bark of laughter. "I'm about ready to fuck you if you pulled a dick out, ma'am. Uh. Shit. Sorry. I'm feeling it pretty hard is what I mean."

Sharron nodded. "I bet. You said that you got the poke yesterday? That would track, but this is only going to get worse until you imprint." She paused and seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "You said that Colonel Flannery was your

only

match in Oracle?"

Grace nodded and rubbed her forearms out of discomfort with the topic. "It said he was at 98.7% which... Honestly? I tried to set my choices to exclude him as much as possible. Age, height, the

stupid

civil war bullshit fur on his lip. I guess that doesn't get factored in, huh?"

Sharron looked out the tent flap briefly before muttering under her breath. "No honey, it damn well does. Or it should. And you said you got your shot

before

you took the Oracle test?"

Grace sighed. "Yes, maam. Not that anyone actually told me what the damn shot was. Or that it would make me feel like a girl at her first Jonas Brothers show discovering just what she thinks about boys." She could feel herself blushing. "God damn it. Forget I said that, please. Their voices just hit the right.... Why can't I just shut up, GOD."

Sharron patted her knee and then began furiously texting someone on her blackberry. People still used blackberries?

Focus, Grace.

"Don't you worry honey, this is just the serum getting your body ready to fight off the nastiest bug since Atilla the Hun was a problem. And I'm not letting you get within 100 yards of this dirty old..." Sharron trailed off as she read a reply to whatever message she had fired off as Commander Jones returned.

The two of them held a brief conversation that Grace involuntarily tuned out. She knew that this was her future that was in the balance but holy balls this feeling was distracting. Her fingers were digging into her knees to avoid having them wander her body and start hunting for some relief. Jones turned back to her. "Ok. Cressman, you are going to be

fine.

Do you understand me, soldier?"

Grace straightened in her seat and nodded at the tone in his voice. Say what you would about the Army but her training let her push past the fog for now with the command tone getting tossed out. He continued in the same firm voice. "Here is what is going to happen. You are going to load up with this convoy and we are going to use these 7 hours to keep you as far from this camp as possible. Sharron has some wheels turning and we will have this worked out by the time we get back. You with me?"

Grace blinked rapidly but stood and went to attention. That helped a bit. "Yes, sir. Five by five, I understand."

Jones nodded as if it were a foregone conclusion. "Load up, we are burning rubber

right now.

"

Grace saluted and spun with drill ground precision which was spoiled only slightly by her tripping on a cord that was in the middle of the tent and cursing softly. She headed out and grabbed her helmet before climbing into the back of the middle of the three vehicle convoy. Two of the silver cases sat in the middle of the footwell as she was confronted with the ass and legs of a Guardswoman manning an M240B machine gun in the ring turret. Grace let out a long breath and shifted her legs together to try and quietly relieve some of the feeling that was threatening to overcome her. The bass rumble of the Humvee starting up caused her to let out a surprised moan. Oh fucking hell she had never really thought about just how much these shitty benches vibrated with the engine on.

Jones was marching to the front seat of the lead rig and only paused to leave a spare M4 next to Grace. He nodded to her. "We'll get you squared away, Cressman. But we don't want anyone to have a word to say against you in the meantime, alright?"

He didn't wait for an answer before slamming the door shut and moving up. As the convoy began to roll out the gate she could hear the Colonel's voice raising behind them.

"No damn it, she was just supposed to check out the team before they left, not go WITH them! Fucking STOP you....!"

The rest of Flannery's rant was lost in the sound of the road. The sky above the highway was rapidly being overtaken by deep gray clouds and the smell of rain. Grace let herself relax for the first time since her shot as they rolled north to Canada.

-o0o-

Colin was glad that he had driven this route so many times over the last few months because trying to do this with his lights off was a little stupid on any night. Doing it in a torrential downpour with thunder slamming his ears while chasing a bunch of random hicks was beyond idiotic.

Even with his wipers at max he could barely make out the brake lights of the 3 trucks ahead of him. 3 trucks that still hadn't done a damn thing that he could prove, really. All the isolation had probably just cooked his mind and made him start spinning conspiracy theories. Next he would be calculating just how impossible the moon landing was or how much aluminum foil it would take to block out the CIA mind reading satellites. Did the satellites penetrate aluminum? Did he need to track down real tin foil?

He made a noise somewhere between a shout and a sheep bleating as the wind gusted when he rejoined the highway, shoving his car onto the rumble strip. Losing focus now would be an extra embarrassing level onto his obituary. He had to press a lot harder than he wanted to keep up with the trucks but he was in for a penny now. A few miles rolled by and he glanced away to turn up his window defroster to combat the humidity that the storm was causing. He looked back up... just in time to see the trucks pull off on a farm track. "SHIT."