Book of the Lost: AAV-07d25-11: (A reverse harem, post-pandemic, slow-burn romance) (The JAK2 Cycle, Book 3)

by V. E. S. Pullen

  I think Spider just came. The sound he made…it was primal.

  All I wanted to know was what she was going to pack, because I had a few suggestions and the weapons weren’t deadly. They might rough her up a little though.

  “—and explosives are in the storage closet in the range. Those were a little too tempting, so we hid them.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Tai breathed out. “This is— this— why are we leaving?”

  “Gotta save the world,” Azzie reminded him, wandering back to a rack of rifles, and stroking one with a really ornate stock. “This one was my dad’s,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t going to bring any long guns for myself, but I don’t think I want to leave this one behind.”

  “Can we just help ourselves?” Jason was looking around with big eyes, fingers twitching.

  “Well, I thought maybe Tai and Spider should decide how to equip everyone, them being the military dudes who’d know what the best combination would be to meet our needs. Synergy with the ammo and such. I’d also like some reassurances that you know what you’re doing with whatever weapons you take. I can’t risk being around someone that could shoot me accidentally since I don’t clot very well, ya know? Even a flesh wound could bleed out.”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “I’m already set,” she said, and I found myself facing her next to Tai and Spider, all of us with our arms crossed. Luka and Sev were on the other side of the counter, looking at the bows, but even they stopped and turned around, Sev grinning widely.

  “You need to be armed, Azzie,” Tai said.

  “I love that you trust us to protect you,” Luka added, “but I agree.”

  She stared between us, her expression blank. “Seriously?”

  “I know you might be worried about hurting yourself, but you can’t be out there unarmed,” Spider said solemnly while I nodded.

  She shook her head, looking between us with so much exasperation that I knew we’d fucked up. “Dumbasses” she muttered, and Tai cringed.

  “Go ahead then,” Sev cackled. “Show them.”

  “This should be good.” Jason rubbed his hands together.

  She lifted her shirt and pulled a Glock 26 9mm out of a concealed carry holster at her appendix position, setting it on the counter in the middle of the room, then she bent down and yanked up her pant leg, revealing an ankle holster and a Glock 19 that she set down beside the other.

  “Vera,” she said maintaining a perfectly blank face, pointing at the 26, then over at the 19. “Penelope. I use a grip sleeve on Vera’s clips so I can share them between both guns. Synergy and all.”

  Not even thinking about the fact that I’d been staring at her ass but somehow missed the fucking gun sitting a few inches above it, I decided not to show how fucking stupid I felt for underestimating her. Again. Instead I folded my lips in and glared at Ryan, who was practically salivating over her.

  “I knew the 26 was there,” Sev said smugly. “I patted her down while she was molesting me.”

  “I know you did, honey. I patted you down too. Mouse was right, firm with a good rebound. Upgrading you to four stars.”

  He wiggled his hips and I rolled my eyes.

  Azzie wasn’t done though. Her other pant leg went up, and she unsheathed a Ka-Bar knife from her opposite ankle and set it beside her pistol. “Felix.” She unbuckled her belt and lifted it free, and then slid her finger inside the waist of her pants and tugged out a line of paracord. At the end of the short cord was a Ka-Bar shark bite knife in a slip sheath, the kind that’s made from synthetic material so it doesn’t get picked up by metal detectors; she folded back the waistband of her pants to show how it attached to a button sewn inside. “Bodhi. And finally…” she pulled up a tab on the leg of her pants that looked like a random extra loop for decoration, revealing a hidden pocket lying along her thigh on the seam. “Collapsible tactical baton. I call her Laila because she likes to hit things.”

  “Is that baton pink?” Gemma asked, craning her neck to see better.

  “Sure is,” Azzie nodded, “and I beat Mouse in a really serious and vicious competition to win her, both of us ended up having to take ice baths because of the bruising. I just barely won by a technicality, and it’s been an issue with Mouse ever since. She can be a sore loser.”

  She was speaking of Mouse in the present tense. I wasn’t sure if that was good or not; she hadn’t given up on her friend yet, but what would happen if her hopes get crushed? Again.

  I stared at her weapons, completely flustered and feeling like a giant asshole.

  “You know they make the Glock 19 in hot pink too, but I don’t know about the 26,” Adriana said and Azzie’s face lit up. “And it would match your baton. I prefer the Tiffany blue though. Classier.”

  “Ooooh, Tiffany blue?! Seriously? That’s such a pretty color. I didn’t even know that was a thing, we just happened to find the pink baton in one of the rooms here.”

  “Adriana bedazzled hers,” Gemma blurted out and her sister backhanded her across her boobs without hesitation while Gemma cackled. “You say Tiffany blue is classier, then you went and bedazzled the grip! Tacky bitch!” Azzie was bent over laughing hysterically, and I looked at my brothers. Bedazzled? They were just as confused as me.

  “Before this deteriorates any further, why don’t you go ahead and show us what else you’re carrying?” Spider asked, pointing at Azzie’s pockets.

  She mock-glared at him, trying to hide her smile. “Can’t a girl have some secrets?”

  “Nope.”

  “Fine,” she sighed, and began to empty her pockets — both the visible ones and what appeared to be extra ones sewn in at the seams like the one housing her baton. “Not gonna lie, my pants weigh like twenty pounds. Extra clip. Compass with mirror. Mini flashlight but super bright. Fire-starter kit. Bear spray. Two pandemic masks. Kevlar garrote wire disguised as a friendship bracelet. Mouse’s design. Can also be used to saw through handcuff chains — we tested it — and metal bars too but that takes a long time. A keyring with some useful shit like jigglers and a universal cuff key. I have a more extensive set of tools in my pack — even when I couldn’t do more strenuous training, I could practice on locks. Oh, and a tampon case,” she started laughing. “Mouse claims that no matter what, no man will ever touch tampons, let alone search them. One has a razor blade concealed inside, one has another cuff key, and one’s for real. Added bonus, they can be used to pack a wound.”

  “Damn! I gotta remember that, that’s so smart!” Gemma fussed with Azzie’s tampons, pulling them out and examining them closely, to the supreme discomfort of every man in the room. Mouse was not wrong. “They still look brand new in the package! How’d you do that?”

  “Very carefully,” Azzie smiled down at them fondly, as if remembering good times doctoring tampons with her bestie. “Oh, and chapstick, lotion, and a handkerchief.” Azzie dumped out the last of her equipment onto the table top, then fished around and tossed a hair elastic on top of the pile.

  “That everything?” I asked in a strangled voice, trying not to lose my shit at the volume of stuff our girl had concealed on her person. It was damn impressive.

  She nodded, eyeing me suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?” Her annoyance overlaid a pool of hurt, and I was reminded again that she still didn’t get it.

  “I’m laughing at the sheer absurdity of it. I’m laughing at how condescending we were with the whole you need to be armed! attitude, when you’ve got an arsenal concealed on your person. I’m laughing at picturing you and Mouse hunting each other through this ridiculous bunker and calling it a slumber party: post-apocalyptic version. I’m laughing at late night crafting sessions figuring out how best to conceal razor blades in a tampon. I’m laughing at how fucking unprepared the world is for the two of you, and I’m laughing because I’m no longer convinced Mouse is dead. Unless they shot her on sight, she’s out there somewhere, waiting for you.” I shook my head at her, smiling sadly. “But I am in no
way laughing at you. I think you’re amazing. I think what the two of you have done is amazing.”

  “You need wrist sheaths,” Luka blurted out, distracting her purposely — he’d seen her eyes welling up too, and she wouldn’t appreciate getting emotional in front of the princesses. “Quick access blades, and they’d give your wrists stability. You’d lose some flexibility, but the support might be worth it. Especially with the muzzle rise on the 26.”

  She smiled at me, sweet and soft in a way that made my stomach drop like a roller coaster, before focusing on Luka. “I have some, I keep them in my go-bag. They aren’t really wearable for me yet, I’ve been trying to work the leather to soften it up because chafing on my skin is no bueno. And yeah, the muzzle rise is worse on the 26 than the 19, but I have small hands and Vera is also easier to conceal at my waist. I must’ve shot her a thousand times to get used to compensating for the rise. I was hoping you’d check my stance,” she said, looking over at Spider who nodded, the corner of his mouth curling up. She huffed and rolled her eyes, then frowned, almost pensively, looking down at the ground. “Not gonna lie, I haven’t been able to train much in the last year, year and a half, outside of shooting and stuff like lock picking. I was getting— I’m sicker now and I couldn’t do some of the more strenuous training that we used to do. I also haven’t used most of these things in real-life situations, and for practicing with the baton and such, we wore heavy padding when we fought because I had to be careful of bruises and potential cuts. But the practice dummy died a thousand times over, and I think I can take a hit without curling into a ball and crying like a baby. Mouse didn’t hold back, and we practiced a lot up until I— couldn’t. And I know we— I know I haven’t been off the base in a long time, but Mouse has been out more recently. She snuck out through the tunnel a number of times over the years to make sure the route was still clear and there weren’t any surprises. If something changed, we’d refine the plan and our equipment based on her experiences, and change up the training if we had to.”

  “So what you’re saying is that you’ve been planning this for a long time?” Luka winked at her. “I wish you’d maybe have mentioned that before, once or twice, so we’d stop being dicks about shit like this.”

  She closed her eyes and wiped a hand over her face, chuckling darkly before shooting him a mocking glare. “Yes, just to reiterate for the sixty-seventh time, we’ve been working towards putting this plan into motion since I was thirteen, so I’ve had a lot of time to do things like sew secret pockets and reinforce seams and construct wrist sheaths. We don’t have internet access here, but the preppers have a zillion videos and handbooks and instruction manuals in the library, plus a workroom with about a zillion different locks and other weird shit like alarm panels, and Mouse made me study just as hard for this as for school. This stuff, this training — was the only hope I had for a future different from being milked like a cow every day until my body gave out.” She looked at the ground, shaking her head, mumbling to herself, “Mouse knew I needed something, since all the regular hopes and dreams were impossible.”

  I think she forgot where she was or who she was talking to, because she startled when Gemma asked “What do you mean?” in a soft voice.

  Azzie looked around, her mouth pursed tightly shut, but then sighed. “Like I keep telling them, and they keep ignoring, a normal life isn’t for me. I’ve got responsibilities, but beyond that, it’s physically impossible.” She hesitated, like she was searching for the right words. “Some things have changed,” she said slowly, “and I’m still trying to reconcile them in my brain. For years I’ve operated under certain beliefs that I’ve only just found out aren’t true.”

  It didn’t seem like she was referring to the vaccine even though it might have sounded like it, and I wanted to question her but she was actually talking right now and I didn’t want to interrupt that.

  She shook her head again, an expression on her face I didn’t understand. “I don’t know what to believe right now, but you all know what Kane was planning, and it wouldn’t have worked. I can’t have a baby, the risk of bleeding out is too high — even having my period is like hanging out on the killing floor in a slaughterhouse. Sorry for that image, but that’s the reality.”

  “Birth control might help with that,” Adriana advised, winking at us again while Azzie rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, I’m aware. That’s why I’ve been on it since my period started, at least until you all showed up. Not sure— I need to get back on it as soon as we get out of here.”

  Luka stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles. “Not sorry they recognized my supreme virility and genetic superiority, and brought me here to put a baby in that belly,” he did a head bob at her with an obnoxious smirk that made Azzie giggle and blush, but then she was rubbing her face as if it pained her to laugh at him. As well it should, his jokes were terrible.

  “Nothing says you have to have kids to have a normal life, whatever that means.” Tai’s brow was furrowed — he wasn’t glaring at her exactly, more like glaring at the ideas she had in her head.

  “I know that,” she sighed. “It’s not just kids, it’s everything, and now I’m feeling like a drama llama. I don’t want to keep saying this over and over, it makes me feel dumb and whiney, but it’s the reality of my situation: I have to be an incredibly selfish and self-absorbed person about all kinds of things. I have to be hyper-conscious of myself and my body to the exclusion of almost everything else, which isn’t conducive to friendships, let alone relationships. I’m not trying to backslide or talk you out of anything again, but I just need to make sure that you understand everything that’s going on because you guys keep making assumptions about me — like assuming I’m not armed or don’t recognize the need — and that makes me question whether you really recognize what I’m saying.”

  She slumped, sad and defeated by the weight of everything crushing down on her, and I hated that I— that we kept doing this to her. Again and again, we were forcing her to get defensive and explain herself; I’d like to think I’m listening and acknowledging what she says, but yet I keep falling back into the same bad habits of second-guessing or outright ignoring what she says — and not just says, but what she’s proven to us again and again. This bunker being a prime example.

  She looked between us steadily, though her eyes flickered to the fucking Callises a couple times, either like she was including them or uncomfortable with having them hear everything. “This has got to be the final time I say this, because I can’t keep banging my head against a wall hoping that you’ll hear me. I respect that everyone has their own hopes and dreams and wishes for how things could be, but I’ve never had that luxury. What I have is responsibilities, and a debt that needs to be paid. It’s not a hobby, it’s not a weekend activity, it’s a full-time job making sure I’m able to meet the needs of everyone that’s depending on me, and it has never left a lot of time or energy to invest in relationships of any kind, but I will admit that I never had much incentive to either. Regardless, the pressure from McNamara and others… it’s gotten worse as I got sicker. Even going to school this long was considered an indulgence to them, and once I graduated, things were going to change. The most I could hope for was some kind of nominal position at the medical center, analyzing data if I was lucky, but it’s been repeatedly stressed to me that my primary focus would always be self-care: exercise, nutrition, managing stress, and an optimal sleep schedule — basically whatever it took for the cow to produce the highest quality and volume of milk possible. Relationships were never a priority, and it’s been drilled into my head for years that wanting anything normal was selfish and wrong. That’s not easy for me to get past, even if I don’t believe it, and I’m not— I’m not sure I do.”

  “And you’re okay with this?” Gemma’s look of horror was echoed by her sister and the Callises. The rest of us were unsurprised by Azzie’s future plans — we either knew or guessed based on things she’d said. Repeatedly. Warning us aw
ay.

  She shrugged again, shoulders sagging. “It’s not a question of what I want or don’t want. People frequently have to do things they don’t want to, it’s part of being an adult—”

  “Working a thankless or dead-end job is not the equivalent of sacrificing your entire life for some made-up debt you think you owe a bunch of dead people!” Adriana was shouting at Azzie, who flinched but remained unmoved.

  Me? I really wanted to hug the bitch… and if she actually got through to Azzie, we’d name our first born after her.

  “Who brainwashed you?” Gemma demanded, furious. “Who planted this shit in your head?”

  First and second born.

  It was one of those times where a switch flipped inside Azzie, where she went from totally calm to a rage-monster in seconds. “WHO ELSE IS GOING TO SAVE THEM?!” Azzie exploded, screaming at the girls. “Who else is going to keep your fucking babies alive? And your boyfriends, and parents, and YOU?! Who else is going to make sure there are people left to grow food and build bridges and fight wars?! It’s not a made-up debt, and it’s not to the dead!”

  Adriana was right there, up in her face. “You arrogant little shit…” she growled, the two of them toe to toe with spittle flying. “We’ve been doing pretty well on our own without your goddamn vaccine! We don’t need you half as much as you think, so take a goddamn weekend here and there, get laid, and maybe get that fucking stick out of your ass!”

  “Fuck you! You have no idea what I’ve fucking been through for that goddamn vaccine!” Azzie rocked back on her heels, fists clenched, face so red parts appeared to be throbbing, then she let out a guttural scream of rage and pain, slamming her fists on the counter. “Goddammit! They’ve been poisoning me!”

  Adriana reached for her, about to fold her in a hug, saying, “They have, baby, they have. Poisoning your mind. You don’t owe anyone anything, you’ve done your share—”

  “No,” Azzie moaned in agony, wincing away and shaking her head. She bent in half and clutched her middle, like an animal trying to protect the soft parts. “No, really poisoning me. They’ve been overdosing me on iron so I’ll produce more red blood cells, making me sicker. For a vaccine they aren’t even giving people. I found out earlier…”