180 Days and Counting... Series Box Set books 1 - 3

by B. R. Paulson

  “Mama, let Juan alone.” Maria, his oldest sister, handed him his youngest nephew. “Juan, hold Julio for a minute. I need to use the bathroom. This baby is making my bladder ache.” She winced as she motioned toward her bulging stomach.

  Pregnant. Again.

  “How many is this?” Juan voiced the question to his mother, holding the small child who had to be just under a year, with the barest of tolerance. He didn’t like children. Maybe he’d feel differently about his own, but as it was, he found them annoying and dirty.

  His mother playfully slapped at his arm. “Be nice to your sister. This is number seven and you know Jesus isn’t home a lot. He’s busy with work.” But what she really meant to say but wouldn’t voice was that he was out drinking and gambling, only home long enough to impregnate his wife before he was off again.

  Jackson didn’t care. None of it mattered. He handed the baby off to his mother who cooed with happiness at the exchange. Moving to stand beside the end of the fence, Jackson studied the party. His siblings had all come with their spouses and offspring. Six children in his generation and then thirty-six in the next generation and Jackson was sure his family had repopulated a small village.

  What about just going two children per family? One to replace each parent? What was wrong with that? Nothing. Nothing was wrong with that, except that people collected children like baseball cards.

  Watching two of his brothers arm wrestle on a nearby table, Jackson mentally went back over his list. He had to package up the final shipment to go out in two days for release two weeks after the first wave. Setting his plate in the garbage, he returned to his spot and watched. He couldn’t approve release of anything until he’d made sure the other vaccine vial had been delivered. Once he knew she had it, he could go forward.

  Hopefully, she chose him.

  Just the thought of repopulating the earth with a few children – not the entire Brady Bunch – brought a smile to Jackson’s face.

  His father walked up, leaning forward and snagging a bottle of Mexican beer. “You’ve been so doom and gloom over the last couple years, it’s strange to see a smile on your face.” He tipped the mouth of the bottle toward his wife. “Mother worries about you and prays for you every morning and night. I know she is happy to see you smile.”

  Nodding, Jackson placed his hand on his dad’s shoulder. “That’s kind of you two to worry, Papa. I’m getting better. So many problems will be fixed soon. Everything will be as it should be. I love you, old man.” He said the latter fondly and leaned over, hugging his father with one arm. Over his father’s shoulder, he smirked at his family.

  He did love his family, very much – not enough to spend the rest of his life on earth with just them. They weren’t smart enough to be around for longer than a few hours at a time.

  As he pulled away, he thrust his hand into his pocket. The last vial, aside from the one he’d shipped, felt warm to the touch even though that was just because it’d been warmed by his upper thigh for the last couple days.

  He narrowed his eyes and took in the sight of each person in turn. None of them had the vaccine. None of them were going to be around after the next month or two. That thought didn’t bring him any amount of sadness as he would have expected. The raucous laughter of his brothers, the cackling of his sister-in-laws as they gossiped along the side of the food tables while they watched the children, all of it would be over and gone in no time.

  Jackson would never have to hear the name Juan again.

  He fondled the vial in his pocket, anxious to get things underway. Before leaving that night, he had to make sure he asked his mother for her tamale recipe. Once she was gone, he wouldn’t get a second chance and life on earth without tamales wasn’t a life worth living.

  Chapter 21

  Cady

  Gathering her control about her, Cady decided not to let any more time pass. If her mother wouldn’t believe her or at least listen to the warnings, Cady had to warn the others closest to her. If they didn’t believe her, then all other attempts at warnings would be a waste.

  She looked around the living room, avoiding the confused gazes of Scott and Bailey as they glanced at each other and then turned their focus back toward Cady.

  The living room was dim as the sun had set a long time ago, leaving the moon to shine through the rear slider window. Streaks on the glass showed where Bailey and Cady used the glass to open and close the door versus the handle. Amazing how the smudges looked clearer in the slim light. Cady winced at the sight. She’d have to clean it up. For some reason, heading into the apocalypse with dirty windows left a bad taste in her mouth.

  She cleared her throat, finally glancing at them each in turn. “Thank you both for meeting with me. I know I’ve been out of it the last week or so, but it’s not just because of our loss.” Cady folded her hands in her lap and volleyed her gaze between Scott and Bailey, unable to focus on one for longer than a half a second.

  Bailey snorted, pulling off her coat and setting it on the couch beside her, fluffing the aroma of campfire through the room. She’d just come in from a bonfire with friends. Cady hadn’t yet given her the restrictions that would feel like jail time. It was coming, but Cady wasn’t ready just yet. She had to hold off, if only for a few more days.

  “What’s going on, Cady? Why are we here so late?” Shadows under Scott’s eyes worried Cady. She was partly to blame since he checked on her place as well as his own. She’d been cryptic and secretive and that had to stop now. She’d texted him and only said she needed him at her house immediately. She hadn’t hidden the urgency or even tried to ask. All she’d done was demand.

  “Here’s what’s going on.” She lifted her hand and rubbed at her neck, embarrassed by her role in what was going to happen, but she had to be honest from the get-go. Cady lifted her chin, resolute to get the truth out there – good or bad. “Back when I was in college, I joined this Bio-Organics and Life group. We met online in forums and talked about our visions, theorems, and experiments. Some of the world’s greatest scientists have come out of that group and some… of the craziest.”

  “Are you saying you’re crazy, Mom?” Bailey smirked, folding her arms and bouncing her foot on her knee. She bobbed her head back and forth, obviously bored with the conversation.

  Scott didn’t look away from Cady’s face as he stared earnestly at her. “Go on.”

  Cady looked at him gratefully. “The thing is, I met a guy on there.”

  Dismay knit Scott’s eyebrows and he leaned forward. “Really? Like a long-lost boyfriend or something?”

  Shaking her head, Cady held up a hand. “No. Nothing like that. This guy and I talked about radical ideas and terrorist activities. Things that revolved around biochemical warfare and torture. Things that were exciting to a burgeoning young scientist but were just ideas, you know? Nothing serious.” Cady lowered her gaze. “At least for me. None of it was serious for me.” She picked at the loose material of her sweat pants. She couldn’t remember the last thing she’d worn before that.

  “What did you do, Mom?” Bailey’s strident voice broke through the silence as if she knew something wasn’t right.

  “I didn’t do anything. This man… well, he’s going to set forth a virus or something that will wipe out a lot of people. I think…” Cady shook her head, tightening her jaw. “No.” She took a deep breath. She was hiding a lot from them, but not this part. Not the truth about the possible devastation. “That’s not true. I know, his main goal is to wipe out the majority of the population, if not all of it.”

  Bailey gasped, accusations rich in her eyes. “How do you know this? This isn’t something to joke about, Mother.” She clenched her fists beside her side and jumped from her seat on the couch. She stood, slightly crouched, as she watched the adults in the room.

  Scott’s face paled as he studied Cady, his eyes searched her face. “Are you sure?” His voice was low with doubt, but not in her. No, she could hear his unspoken promise to stand by her
, no matter what.

  While that reassured her, it also terrified her.

  Nodding regretfully, Cady scrunched her nose to the side. “Yeah, unfortunately. And now is not the time to wait around. We need to restock everything, overload on everything. I’m not sure how long to plan for, but if everyone gets sick, we’ll need to be prepared to be holed up for a long time.” She clenched her fist and pounded her empty palm. “I just wish I could get my hands on a sample of his virus. I’m sure I could figure out what it’s origin is or how to treat it. Unfortunately, it’s too late for a cure or a vaccine.”

  Straightening from her defensive stance and with her eyes wide, Bailey half-raised her hand like she wanted to be called on in class. “So, you’re saying that the end is really coming and you’ve been preparing for this all this time? You’ve known?”

  “Yes, honey, that’s exactly what I’m saying, except I didn’t know I was prepping for this exact thing. I forgot about it altogether, and then he emailed me out of the blue. Now, I’m just as worried as you, but I know what’s going to happen, in theory and I’m nowhere near ready enough.” Cady had always been conservative with her prepping. She’d always cautioned against spending too much or hoarding the wrong things. Now that the events were before her, she wasn’t sure what too much or hoarding the wrong things meant.

  “No. You have to be wrong. Mom, this isn’t possible. You’re just upset about Dad and the fact that you messed up your marriage.” Bailey’s eyes sparked with anger and unshed tears. “You don’t have to run around trying to scare everyone.”

  Cady stood, reaching out to touch her daughter’s shoulders. She ignored Bailey’s attempts to shrug her off. “Bailey, I’m not wrong. I know you think I’m stupid and just your mother, but I’m actually very smart and trust me when I tell you, this is not a joke. This is not a misunderstanding. I know what I’m talking about. The end is coming. You need to pay more attention to the things I’m telling you.” Cady ducked her head. “Do you understand me?”

  Denial washed over Bailey and then grim acceptance as she stared at Cady and something in her mother’s tone anchored deep inside. She ignored the moisture leaking from her eyes. “You probably want me to say I wish I had paid attention more to prepper stuff, right? You’re disappointed that I don’t know how to do anything you said I should learn.” Tears welled in her eyes and she shook her head as she shrugged Cady’s grip off. She glanced wildly between Scott and Cady. “Can I tell my friends?”

  Cady cocked her head to the side. She hated to tell Bailey no, but at the point, Cady wasn’t sure what was more important – warning others or causing a panic. “First of all, I don’t think that about you at all. I’m not prepared like I should be either.” She glanced at Scott, shame in her eyes. “I need to rectify that immediately. If you’re up for it.” She turned back to Bailey. “Let’s wait on telling people. I’m not sure who will believe us and who won’t.” She reached out and touched Bailey’s hand. “I wish I’d learned ham radio and some more things myself, but I have a feeling there won’t be many people left alive after this to talk to on the radio.”

  Scott’s fear was held in place by his calm exterior. He was a rock and Cady was grateful for that. “I’m confident we’ll be fine. What do we do? Were you given specific instructions?” How easily he seemed to believe her and support what she said. He sought her knowledge, he didn’t run from it.

  Racking her memory for any other details she could recall, Cady thought carefully about what she would say next. “I already told you about the mail. Stick with that and I’ll let you know as soon as I do what’s next.” She shrugged. “I guess the basic answer is let’s do whatever we can to fortify our homes.” She squinted at Scott. “Let’s load up on as much ammunition as possible. I have reloading things I’ll order more of, but I’ll need your help working the machine.” There were so many things she had to figure out and not enough time to do them in.

  She studied the grim expressions of the only two people on earth who would believe her. Bailey didn’t want to and her resistance was thick in her expression and the way she held her arms stiffly at her sides. But Scott, he accepted it like she’d declared the air was breathable and he gulped in a lungful.

  He was going to be a huge asset in the upcoming months. Unfortunately, he might not make it and as Cady thought about it, the possibility made her sadder than she would have thought conceivable.

  Her neighbor had become important to her over the years and as he’d stepped in to be a rock for her after losing Zach, Cady realized she could very easily care about the man in a non-neighborly way, in a non-platonic way. But what was the point?

  At that time, the end loomed nearer than anyone had planned and she didn’t want to fall for someone who would just die on her.

  She couldn’t face the apocalypse with another broken heart.

  Can Cady convince Jackson not to spread the virus? Or will she lose her daughter and everything she holds dear in Last Chance, book 2 of the 180 Days and Counting… Series. Keep reading!

  Last Chance

  Last Chance

  180 Days and Counting… series

  Book 2

  B.R. Paulson

  Last Chance

  One vaccine dose. The deadliest virus the world hasn’t met yet. A mom who has to save her daughter and could die trying.

  Cady lives out in a rural area and life with her daughter is thrown into turmoil – even with society so far away.

  Jackson has promised her a vaccine – but only one dose – for the virus he’s loosed on the world.

  Can Cady choose between saving her daughter or leaving her little girl alone in a world filled with questions and fear? While the world falls ill, Cady is faced with the worst decision a parent could have. Will she make the right decision? Is it too late to change Jackson’s mind?

  Chapter 1

  Pete

  No one would know, if Pete Smithey cut a small slit into the pallet in the back of the warehouse and took a few packets of the hot new fragrance sample.

  No one would know. He repeatedly reassured himself as he looked around the empty warehouse, searching for another employee who might be in early for a shift or a surprise inspection from the higher-ups.

  Carrie, his on-again-off-again-currently-off girlfriend, would be ecstatic when he showed up with the fragrance. She’d probably forgive him for the latest infidelity, at least enough for him to take her to the movies or a party or something.

  The utility knife fit his sweaty palm, but he rolled it over and over against his jean-clad thigh. Swallowing, he looked around the dim interior one more time. The only things greeting his search were other pallets, large shelves only accessible by forklift, and an office at the end of the long building. Concrete flooring didn’t make his job easy as he paced the floor, monitoring for activity during the night.

  Trident Storage and Shipment, the company he worked for, sold high security to people to store and ship their items and then only put one, untrained man to guard against anything that might come during the night. Pete wasn’t even allowed to carry a gun. He had a radio and a stick that wasn’t even tough enough to call a baton.

  It was now or never. Carrie had accused him during their last breakup that he never took risks, except cheating on her. He didn’t chase his dreams. He didn’t do anything, but disappoint people. Well, taking the fragrance sample sheets would make it hard for her to complain about. Carrie had been talking about that fragrance for months.

  His girl, even if she wasn’t his girl at the moment, loved anything that had to do with End of the World as We Know it. She was obsessed with the apocalypse and prepping. The fact that there was a fragrance named after the end of the world. The hype being made over the fragrance was so huge, it was touted in magazines and on social media as having to be made from gold with how much everyone talked about it. But when you asked point blank what it smelled like, no one seemed to know.

  Pete shoved the blade from its slot, exposi
ng the sharp point. He sliced through three layers of thick plastic, surprised at the wrap job.

  Reaching his hand inside the oblong opening, Pete dug through the stacked cardstock sheets, grabbing what he could in his fingers and slipping them from the opening. The familiar image from the commercial graced the card, a matte-textured spot with very small type font instructing the reader to sniff here. No gold in sight.

  Pete sniffed, inhaling the strong fragrance with an asexual bend. It didn’t smell male or female, but more along the lines of natural – like pine and cinnamon but less heavy. Pete couldn’t place the familiar scents, but he liked the combination.

  He liked it so much, he rubbed some on his shirt and neck, sniffing the card again before sticking the stack of cards into his back pocket.

  Grabbing a roll of duct tape, Pete patched the hole he’d created. He replaced the tape, retreating to the office to include a report on a damaged product discovered in the incidents log. TSS was so cheap, they didn’t even have cameras.

  His buddy had walked out with a newly released laptop the week before, stating the incident report that it had slipped off the forklift and been runover. No one had said a thing.

  Glancing at the clock above the computer, Pete smirked. He’d be off in time to pick up Carrie from her shift at the restaurant. His girl worked as a waitress. He could pick her up, give her the surprise and see if she’d want to go out with him.

  He couldn’t wait to see what she thought of his gift.

  It wasn’t every day he could present her with the End of the World.