I closed my eyes and waited.
“Help me get the outgoing mail onto the truck,” the guy closest to me said in a low growl. “Quickly.”
“Dude, what the fuck—?”
“Just help me,” he hissed, and I felt the cart begin to roll faster, and then haltingly up a sharp incline. I was in the dark now, and the temperature dropped about ten degrees.
I think some time passed, but I’m not sure — I’d been drifting in and out of consciousness since I landed in the cart, after managing to contort my body in unnatural ways to fit through the chute.
I’m not even sure how long I was in there, but I’d woken up repeatedly to a lot of shouting and carrying on, and then a few times to sounds of the search getting closer then fading away again. Each time, my heart began to race and my wheezing breaths accelerate, and both together sounded as loud as an inept symphony — an off-rhythm bass drum and a bow sawing painfully against violin strings — and it was a miracle no one heard me in that metal echo chamber.
Inside the truck, I felt… safer. Not safe, not yet, but close.
A body moved around nearby as an empty cart was wheeled past me and back down the ramp.
“It’s a little unorthodox, but all the postage is correct,” my savior said from a distance, and I heard the sounds of the cart moving around, then the creak and slam of the mailbox door swinging shut.
“You checked the manual? And contacted the sorting facility?”
“Yup, followed protocol. The DMM has regulations for mailing honeybees and baby chicks, but nothing like this, so as long as the postage is in place and we collected the package from a designated outgoing mail repository — and this is one of our mailboxes — we’re good to go.”
“Let’s roll then.”
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”
“Sir, you’re going to need to step back. The contents of the mailbox are on the truck and are no longer eligible for retraction or removal from the outgoing mail.”
“Sir, with the authority vested in us by the Postmaster General of the United States, we are carrying out our duties as Postal Carriers and collecting the mail at this facility to deliver to the appropriate and labeled destination.”
“The fuck you are—!”
“Sir, step off right now or we’ll be forced to take action.”
“Get your fucking ass off that truck, you fucking bitch!”
“Sir, put down your weapon. We are within our authority to accept any package — of any kind — with the correct postage and found within a designated receptacle. And if you haven’t been living under a rock for the past couple years, you’d know that we are more than capable of exceeding whatever firepower you have access to.”
“And if that threat isn’t sufficient, attempting to impede a Carrier during the course of a pick-up or delivery, or injuring a Carrier at any time, is grounds for having you, personally, and your entire geographical location blacklisted by the postal service. Such actions will also be subject to fines between $10,000 and $250,000 — up to $10 million in the case of critically injuring or killing a Carrier — and a minimum of sixty years in federal prison. Is that really what you want to do?”
“We’re coming for you, you stupid whore!”
“Sir, please step away and return to your clubhouse.”
End of Book Three
Acknowledgments
Nicole: It never fails. Six people could’ve reviewed a manuscript with magnifying glasses, and you’ll invariably find the one error that everyone else missed. Sometimes six errors. It’s a little scary — I’d think you were planting them yourself but then I look back and see they’d been there the whole time.
Kaitlyn: You are my cheerleader. Your boundless enthusiasm, excitement, and straight-up love for my books, always seems to hit me in the feels just when I need it the most. Every conversation with you seems to end with me feeling “Shit, yeah, I got this!’ like you’ve smacked me on the ass and shouted “Go get ‘em, tiger!”
Tori: You’ve been supportive and encouraging since my fanfic days, and you’ve never steered me wrong. Thank you for all you do, and for being in my corner since day one.
Anne: I look forward to when you can refocus on what’s important — ME! — and get your priorities straight. I need you. The nugget will have you for forever, it doesn’t need you right now. Tell it to get its own cereal and watch cartoons, you’ve got reading to do. <3 <3
Michele: You make me look so good. Your proofreading skills are beyond compare. EVERY AUTHOR NEEDS MICHELE! There, I said it. Michele Patten at Patten Proofing. Find her on Facebook. Email her at [email protected] or go to her website (www.pattenproofing.com). She’s fast, efficient, professional, knows her shit, makes you look good, catches usage errors, and even though she says she’s not an editor, she’s found a number of continuity issues and made genuinely insightful suggestions. And she is just a lovely human being. You’re welcome, anonymous author friend. (And if you contact her, tell her you found her through me! I don’t get a referral bonus or anything, she just wants to know how people find her and she’s too shy to ask.)
Marguerite: Little did you know when you wrote reviews of my books that I’d bully you into being an alpha reader… I’m so damn smart sometimes! Seriously. You’re like a secret weapon. I think you made upwards of 200 comments on your first read-through, and I think I made 80% of the changes you suggested. Thank you for the time, effort, pragmatism, and delightfully brutal honesty you gave me. I hope I proved to you that I do, indeed, want your honest opinion on everything, and I’m willing to argue if I disagree. You’re my ideal kind of reader, and I’m so thankful you agreed to help me out (and I hope I can convince you to alpha read future books as well).
Destiny: You came out of nowhere, expressing love for my books, and wanting to help. “Help.” Because you just like to support new authors, out of the goodness of your heart. You started off by recommending me like crazy, bringing in a huge number of new readers. Then you started giving me advice, and then I gave up denying it and just started asking you to teach me what you know because I was adrift and unsure about what I was doing, and now I feel like I’ve got a pretty damn good plan in place. You constantly give me recommendations on software, services, and next steps, and I think I’ve done every damn thing you’ve suggested. You’re amazing (and also an incredible person and I’m lucky to call you my friend). Whenever you get around to instituting your business plan, I will be there ready to sign up.
Roxie: Bish, you’re the Azzie to my Mouse (or Mouse to my Azzie?). Either way. An idea isn’t an idea until I’ve run it by you. You’re the keeper of all my secrets, reader of all my versions (from the initial text conversation of “I had this idea…” to the final sanity check before publishing), advisor, enforcer, and the tik to my tok. Would not be here without you. I say it every time, it remains true. But this is the last time I’m gonna say one thing: I’m not adding “Daddy Justice” to the harem. You are welcome to write the fanfic because I am telling you now, it will never happen, and you’re a dirty, dirty girl.
As ever, Dave: Remember, if things go to shit, we can always move to Canada. Notice I said “we”? I am the mistletoe to your oak tree, remora fish to your great white… don’t even think about trying to shake me loose, I will cling to you like a spider monkey.
The story continues in Book of the Found: AESLI-01.
Playlist for Book of the Lost
you should see me in a crown
on Spotify: http://bit.ly/BotLostPlaylist
lovely (with Khalid) - Billie Eilish, Khalid
Daddy - Die Antwoord
Nightmare - Halsey
Skullcrusher Mountain - Jonathan Coulton
Gold Guns Girls - Metric
Bad Ideas - Tessa Violet
Glory Box - Portishead
Giants - Bear Hands
Birthday Cake - Rihanna
Run (Beautiful Things) (HIGHSOCIETY Remix) - AWOLNATION, HIGHSOCIETY
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Protocol - Leon Else
Pompeii - Bastille
Bullet - Covenant
Down By The Water - PJ Harvey
I Fink U Freeky - Die Antwoord
Help I’m Alive - Metric
Beggin For Thread - BANKS
Famous (feat. HoodCelebrityy) - Remix - French Montana, HoodCelebrityy
Black Swan - Thom Yorke
Mood Swings (feat. Lil Tjay) - Pop Smoke, Lil Tjay
Ride - SoMo
Cola - Lana Del Rey
you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish
About the Author
V.E.S. Pullen is a believer in truth, justice, and the Oxford comma. She lives in southeast Michigan with her family — three cats and only one dog, which is a travesty that must be rectified despite what her husband thinks; “living the dream” is her own pack. She swears like a stevedore, games multiple days a week, has strong opinions on the things that matter, and is frequently the creepiest in any room.
You can follow her on Facebook for occasional pertinent updates, but she mostly just posts things that are only funny to her, like the monster she is. She’ll get a website and other socials eventually, but she’s lazy, it’s cold outside, and there are wolves after her.
Stalk her on Facebook: https://bit.ly/FB_VESPullen
Book of the Lost: AAV-07d25-11: (A reverse harem, post-pandemic, slow-burn romance) (The JAK2 Cycle, Book 3) Page 33
