Book of the Damned: A-E5L1-01-00: (A reverse harem, post-pandemic, slow-burn romance) (The JAK2 Cycle, Book 2)

by V. E. S. Pullen

  She looked around the group, lingering on each face, and even from the side I could see her eyes well up. “For those of you who didn’t hear earlier, my real name is Aesli. I go by Azzie for obvious reasons… and my fucked up blood is the source of the vaccine. I— I appreciate that this is a shock to many of you, and I hope you understand that we need to stay focused on the plan because, well, there’s not a lot of time and I’m an asset that they aren’t going to be happy about losing. We have a small window — and I really don’t know how much but things have been staged to buy time. You all know there’s been a plan in place for awhile, so things are in place so that no one notices I’m missing for some time, I hope, but it isn’t infallible. There’s a lot of reasons why this is the time to go, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how this is disrupting your lives—”

  “Azzie,” Ben interrupted, shaking his head. “Shut up. We’ve been preparing for this. We knew this was coming eventually, we just didn’t know why you were so important. Now that we know… don’t fudging apologize for anything, okay?”

  “No explanations either,” Pete agreed, looking around the room. “You don’t owe anyone anything,” he said deliberately, and I took a closer look at the crowd. I could see one or two people maybe didn’t agree with him, the mutinous looks that were quickly covered up.

  “She was told the vaccine was being distributed to everyone,” I said, my voice cracking like a whip through the room. “They’ve been lying to her, telling her she was saving people like my family and probably yours, and instead they’ve been selling it or using it to manipulate people. That’s not going to change if she stays here, that only changes if she’s out there, getting it to those who need it.”

  Dead silence. Every eye was on me, and then on Azzie as she nodded, unable to speak.

  “Fuck,” Pete swore, eyes huge and mouth open. “Fuck me.”

  “That’s what you’re doing?” The angry chick, Kate, finally spoke up, but she was subdued now. “You aren’t running away, you’re going to distribute the vaccine?”

  Azzie nodded again, Kate looking thoughtful.

  “How? Do you know someone out there, a scientist? How are you going to manufacture it?” Ben asked eagerly, the whole thing appealing to his academic nature.

  “Mouse — and if you didn’t know, she’s the one who first discovered my blood could be used as a vaccine — she figured it out. She’s spent the last couple years working on it improving the process too, trying to make it better, to use less blood or be produced synthetically. None of my doctors would listen to her, and I didn’t understand, but now I get it. They didn’t want it available in volume, they wanted the supply to be limited. It’s more valuable that way, you know?” I could taste her bitterness on my tongue. I wanted nothing more than to protect her, shelter her from the disappointment, the disillusionment with those she’d trusted — as proud as she obviously was for her friend, and as much as she was willing to brag about Mouse’s accomplishments, she knew Mouse betrayed her. She knew Mouse kept things from her. “I know how to convert it, how to make a subunit, monovalent vaccine. I know how to piggyback it on an existing pertussis vaccine, which works faster. I know what preservatives to use, and I have all of Mouse’s research. And I’m going to teach them,” she gestured at Tai and the rest of us. “What they’ve been doing, McNamara and the ones in charge, I’m going to make it right.”

  “What do we need to do?” That was Kate, and somehow I felt like if she was on board, everyone else would be too.

  Pete took over from there, rehashing the plan. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t going to save everyone, but it was the best chance they had.

  The mural Mouse painted depicted steam tunnels running under the town that were modeled after ones that used to be somewhat common on university campuses in this area, and they led to a decommissioned salt mine. The tunnels originated as a way to heat all the campus or company buildings from a central boiler system, and in Salem they became a way for workers to get to the mine even in the depths of winter. Detroit was built over a similar mine, ten times bigger than the one that Salem was sitting next to, and that eventually put the Salem mine out of business but the town itself survived.

  Everyone in town, pre-JANUS, knew about the tunnels; it was some kind of rite of passage for kids to try to find an open entrance, and the fire department was called in to search for a missing kid at least once a year.

  When the town went under quarantine, and they decided to convert it to a base for Azzie, she and Mouse managed to remove all maps and records regarding the mine and tunnels by setting a fire in city hall and making it look like a gas leak and construction accident. They covered or hid all the entrances — there were only so many original buildings left in downtown and the three remote entrances at the elementary school, medical center, and train station.

  The plan was to get people into the tunnels and from there to the mine. Azzie could only guarantee that the tunnels were open — apparently Mouse had been exploring them regularly, even as recently as a few weeks ago, making sure they were still passable — but neither of them had gone very deep into the mine. Azzie rarely risked going exploring at all because of her tracking chip — Greg had a engineered a way to mask the chip in her arm, and they had base stations in Mouse’s cabin and the gaming store that would project a false signal, but it was still risky to show as being in a public place where someone could come check on her. That meant nobody knew if the mine had a way out, or if people would just have to hide there until the coast was clear, so the girls had hidden caches of food and water, even some weapons, in the tunnels. But unless there was a way out of the mine, they’d potentially be trapped, and things could go bad quickly.

  When Azzie explained about her chip, Greg disappeared into the staff area to find the base station, disassemble it, and scatter the parts throughout the store. There was no reason to give away all the secrets when they came looking for her.

  The people here, now, and the others on duty that couldn’t attend the meeting, were going to be the only chance the rest of the town had. Five of them — off-duty for the next two days so they wouldn’t be missed — were going to attempt to get through the mine. The rest would try to gather more supplies and get them into the tunnels through the entrance under the store, including blankets and warm clothes. They all had assigned positions once the evacuation started — the hardest job was Ben’s and another woman, a teacher at the junior high. They had to get a high school and junior high full of kids over to the elementary school. They both believed all the other teachers would help once things were in motion, but Spider and I exchanged looks over that.

  That high school, at least, was full of entitled little shits who would resist doing anything that wasn’t their idea. Azzie told Ben not to be a hero, anyone that wouldn’t listen could fend for themselves, and he looked appalled at that.

  “Are you really going to sacrifice your own life over Tyler Wentin or Clarissa Wegner?” She scoffed. “You give those fucks one chance to do the right thing, then you get your ass over to the elementary school and help get those little kids into the tunnels. The ones that haven’t been totally ruined yet.”

  Surprisingly, that seemed to resonate with him, and he agreed. “Brutal,” someone whispered in the crowd, but it sounded more admiring than critical.

  The most difficult thing to predict or control with the plan was timing. Evacuation couldn’t start until Azzie’s absence was reported, and the powers-that-be made their move. Too soon, and it would be noticed, and their means of escape would be cut off, but the number of people able to be saved would be reduced the longer it took to start evacuation.

  Too soon, and no one would believe the imminent danger; too late, and there would be panic, possibly revealing that an evacuation was taking place.

  Azzie believed that they’d do a thorough search first, before reporting her absence off-base, and the tunnel entrances needed to remain hidden until that was complete. There were enough sol
diers involved in the plan that hopefully they’d be part of the search and could direct attention away from the entrances — usually concealed behind stacks of boxes or shelves — and plant the seed that we were probably hiding in the woods trying to find a way over the walls, or squirreled away in the basement of some random house, hoping to steal a vehicle and escape during the chaos. Once that search was deemed unsuccessful, the large-scale evacuation would start.

  How the external command reacted once they believed Azzie was no longer in Salem, was the bigger issue in regards to evacuating. If they immediately sent in ground troops to execute the base inhabitants, it would be harder to evacuate without being seen but at least there’d be some warning. If they bombed the location from the air, no one would know it was coming until it was too late. Azzie was sure they’d send bombers, so certain that Ben called her on it.

  “How are you so sure that they’re going to do anything to the rest of us? I trust you, Azzie, and I believe you, but it seems extreme.”

  “I’m with Ben — why would they do that to their own soldiers?” Sean asked, brow furrowed and shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I think we all realize that we’re living in Barovia here at the whim of Strahd, but that doesn’t make any sense. I don’t think they’d do that—”

  They thought this place was Barovia? Just wait until they get outside… now that I was really thinking about it, the parallels were terrifying.

  “They’ve done it,” Azzie said, snapping my attention back. She held up her hand, her palm out, silencing the room. “They’ve done it before. There was another source of vaccine, not quite as potent or reliable as my blood, from a sixty-five year old woman from Arkansas. The B strain? B was for Betsy, her name was Betsy Jermaine, and she had PV but not like me. I met her early on, at the CDC in Atlanta when we were both getting tests run, after she’d volunteered and survived being infected with JANUS-23, and she— she was a sweet lady. Brave as hell. We weren’t officially allowed to communicate, but we sent letters to each other — they’d kept her close to Atlanta, she was in a little town in the mountains. She had a stroke two years ago, wrote to me and said it was bad and she was scared, she’d heard things — I could barely read her writing — and when she died… remember the Dahlonega outbreak? All those reports of a whole town becoming infected, CDC stepping in, military quarantine, and so on? Nope. Whole town was vaccinated, just like here. When Betsy died, they killed everyone. Everyone.”

  Jesus.

  We’d heard about the Dahlonega outbreak, it was widely reported on, and it seemed like a cover-up even back then. Rumors were rampant, but apparently not a one of them got close to the truth.

  Azzie gave them time, let it sink in, before she held up her hand again. “Me and Mouse, we weren’t going to let that happen here. We aren’t going to let that happen. You have to get as many civilians and soldiers as possible into the tunnels and then to the mine, without drawing attention to what’s happening because there’s going to be opposition. There are key people who they’ll actually evacuate before doing anything, which is a good sign that retaliation is imminent. It’s not going to be obvious who they are, the only person I feel certain will get evacuated is my doctor, Colin McNamara, and probably most of his staff, but I don’t know about the military command. We also have always assumed there were low-level people planted in different areas of the base that were keeping tabs, which made it really hard to figure out who to trust. I’m sure at least one of you, if not more, answer to McNamara or one of the other commanders, but I have to trust that now that you know what’s really going on— if you talk, you’re going to sentence everyone in this town to death. Yourself included. Don’t be a douche.”

  “And if you’re wrong?” someone in the crowd asked, I didn’t see who.

  Azzie stared at the floor, shaking her head. She finally looked up, letting her gaze sweep over the crowd. “Right or wrong, the second you step into the tunnels, you’ll be fugitives. Whether they bomb the town or send in troops, or attempt to do a relocation… whoever isn’t here is going to be a fugitive. Your vax codes are tracked. You can take your chances on relocation, that the government is just going to pat you on the back and reassign you someplace else, let civilians quietly blend back into society—”

  “Why wouldn’t they keep the base intact? Bring another source here?”

  Azzie shrugged, her face blank and voice deadened. “Because you’re here for me. There’s not that many sources out there, and none of them are me. Nobody gets PV this young. Nobody else has the low platelet count that I do. I’m an anomaly, a freak of nature…” she shook her head again, lips pressing together. None of us touched her, though we all wanted to — this was her show, and not our place to interfere. After a moment, she pulled herself back together. “You have to decide, and you only have two choices. You can stay and take your chances, or leave, survive, and be officially dead. That’s all I can do for you, give you a choice. And maybe a head start.”

  “Aren’t you going with us?” One of the girls that was here when we arrived — I think her name was Lydia? — asked that, huddling closer to a guy that had to be her twin.

  Azzie shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to go out a different way— it isn’t a way that would work for a lot of people. And I have to go out first. I’m sorry, but— but they can’t catch me. And if they do—”

  “There’s a third choice,” Spider interrupted her, stepping forward from my side. “And I see a few of you have already figured out what it is. You can also turn Azzie in. Right now, before she has a chance to get out. That’s a nice thought, isn’t it? Then nothing has to change, you can go on with this secure, comfortable existence with all the food you can eat, all the games you can play… except it doesn’t work like that. You turn her in, they’ll figure out there was a plan. One way or another, they’ll learn about the steam tunnels. No, I’m going to make it easy: I’ll tell them about the steam tunnels, and the mine. Then this is no longer a secure location. They’ll relocate the asset… but the rest of you? What do you think is going to happen to the rest of you once Azzie gets moved to the CDC or D.C.? Be angry if you want, but be angry with the right people, like the fuckers that would make a deal with a fourteen year old girl to use her like a vaccine factory, yet not immunize their own people. Be angry with the fuckers who would kill all three thousand soldiers and civilians on this base, children included, to protect that secret.”

  “I’ll talk too,” Pete growled, looking around at the group. “Anyone here turns in Azzie, I’ll tell them everything—”

  “Me too,” from Sean.

  “FUCK!” Cy stood up and pointed a finger at Azzie. “You left us on a cliffhanger and disappeared for two weeks, and now we’re never going to finish the fucking campaign? WORST. DM. EVER. You bet your ass I’ll talk. I’ll tell them everything, including how you violated your DM’s oath on the regular!”

  “No such thing!” Azzie shouted back, scowling at him. “There’s no such thing as the DM’s oath! You made that shit up and—”

  “Sure there is,” Pete interrupted, looking around. “We’ve all sworn it, right? It’s like the doctor’s oath but for Dungeon Masters… First, do all the harm.”

  I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. Spider chuckled “fucking nerds” as I bent over from the pain in my gut, gasping for air, while everyone from the store howled along with me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Spider

  Things moved quickly after that — they all seemed to accept their new reality with minimal fuss, except the new guy, Kyle, made one self-deprecating comment about only getting two weeks of pizza and tacos before his life ended. Pete smacked him on the back and said as last meals go, those weren’t terrible. He agreed with a laugh and things just went on.

  Their easy acceptance should seem odd, right? Azzie just told them they were either going to die here or be as-good-as out there, and they adapted without much hesitation. Maybe reality hadn’t s
unk in yet, or maybe it’s that most of these people are military, and dying in the line of duty is something you have to accept early or you couldn’t do your job.

  Or maybe we’d all survived a world-ending pandemic that wiped out almost 50% of the U.S. population before they got it under some little bit of control, and after that, nothing else seemed quite so difficult.

  We were all on borrowed time.

  Well, not anymore. We were all vaccinated.

  I think the adjustment for me will be outside the walls. The last four years have been lived in constant fear, taking extreme precautions to guard against exposure not only for myself, but everyone around me.

  It’s the contradiction of the pandemic: no one survives on their own, but the unvaccinated only survive through isolation.

  Outside, you aren’t just responsible for yourself anymore. You find your tribe, whether it’s family or friends or strangers with shared goals, and then you do what you have to — to protect each other, to support each other, and to take care of each other — but you have to keep your tribe insular. Outsiders might be infected, and exposure practically guarantees death. There are so many precautions we take if there’s any contact with outsiders, and the most vulnerable are kept secure and apart.

  Tai and me, we’ve always had a tribe — literally a tribe. We’ve always been part of something bigger, a legacy going back generations and centuries. Blood is everything to us — it binds us together and ties us to the land — and it was everything long before blood became both the source and the cure. Everything we do is in service to that larger goal, even joining the military.

  The government offers an incentive: serve your country, earn the AESLI vaccine. If you’re between eighteen and thirty, healthy, virus-free, and have useful skills, you might be accepted. On recruitment days, the offices are swarmed, and the military can pick and choose who it wants.