Quaranteam: SE - Team Davies Ch. 01

Quaranteam: Southeast – Team Davies

By 2Charlie

This is a spinoff from the Quaranteam Universe created by CorruptingPower. Reading his work, as well as stories from many other excellent authors such as BreakTheBar, Agathon, Ronan, OtterlyMinBlowing, The_Licentious_Laureate, SilverRyden, BronanTheLibrarian, and others inspired me to start my own story. Thank you CorruptingPower for letting me join in the fun, and to all of rest for their help and support as I wrote this story. Please check out their work! This work is written with the consent of CorruptingPower. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

All Characters depicted in sexual situations in this story are over the age of 18.

***Gainesville, FL – Early morning, Sunday, July 26, 2020***  

Miles Davies struggled to hold back the tears as he worked his Dremel over the penciled-in letters. He needed to hold it together, for Sean. He blew some wood dust out of the way, then continued to carefully trace the letters, almost there. He had taken his time and stopped once or twice when his hand had started to tremble, until he he'd wrestled his emotions under control. Now, he was very nearly finished.

Sean sat on a stool behind him and to his right, mesmerized by the motion of the print head of his 3D printer as it worked within its enclosure. The pyramid-like shape that was beginning to form would become an urn, should he ever receive his son’s ashes. Sean had given him the idea, and Miles had searched the internet until he had found a sliced file that would suit his needs. The print job was several hours along at this point, but still had even longer to go. Upon completion, he would have a Jedi Holocron. He would encase his eldest son’s final remains therein, and bury them next to his wife, Beth, using the sign he was crafting now as the grave marker.

Marcus had been a promise to carry on his father’s legacy. He’d grown tall in the past year, easily reaching, then passing Miles’ 6-foot height by an inch or two. He’d been into tennis, and swimming, which had made him lean and fit, had been a Dean’s List student for the past few years, and had been in the final phase of completing his Eagle Scout rank requirements. Just a few more years, and he’d have been off to college, or possibly the Naval Academy. Now, all of that potential was gone. Miles struggled to hold himself together.

He looked up at a picture of his wife, Beth. His Beth. They had met while he was an ROTC midshipman at the University of Florida. She had been a few years behind him, so he had left her behind when he graduated, going on to complete OCS, and then entering the naval nuclear training program, eventually being stationed in up-state New York at the Knolls Atomic Power Laboratories as a staff instructor. He had taken leave to propose to her when she graduated, and they had married a year later. She had kept a home for him throughout his naval career, moving as he changed duty stations, his first posting on the Enterprise, then later serving on the South Carolina, bearing him two sons along the way. When he had transitioned to reserve status, they had settled here in Gainesville, where they had first met.

How he missed her! He closed his eyes tighter, a memory of her echoing in his thoughts. Her wavy blonde hair falling in front of an eye as she grinned at him. The twinkle in her eye betrayed the mischief in her thoughts as she crawled atop him in some long-ago tryst. Recalling her sweet scent, the feel of her smooth skin, the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts brought a familiar ache. He rubbed the tears from his eyes.

Two days earlier, he’d lost his eldest son – some sort of respiratory infection gone awry; seemingly an eternity before that, he’d lost his wife to a drunk driver. The anguish burned into a painful knot, tight in Miles’ guts. He’d drawn upon reserves of strength he hadn’t known he’d possessed to make it through that terrible Christmas when he lost Beth, doing his best to assuage the grief of his two young sons, Marcus and Sean. In the intervening two years, he’d altered their celebrations away from the exchange of gifts, opting instead to travel to places Beth had always wanted to visit, choosing to celebrate her memory each year-end holiday season by living for her. Last year they’d gone to Key West, the year prior they’d toured the Alamo.

This year they had planned to go see the Grand Canyon. But then COVID came along. Given the state of lockdowns across the country, there would have probably been no trip out of the state this year. Now, with the fresh tragedy of losing Marcus, Miles doubted he and Sean would be going anywhere. Instead, they would need to mourn, and to recover, and to learn new ways to celebrate those no longer with them.

A sniffle behind him brought Miles out of his reverie. Sean was wiping away fresh tears, lost in thoughts of his own. Sean was shorter than Marcus had been. At only ten years old, he still had some baby fat, but unlike Marcus, Sean had his mother’s blonde hair and endearing smile. Marcus had been more like his father, with brown hair kept in an inspection-ready cut, and a more serious visage, with his father’s far-away look in his hazel eyes. Sean had always been a bit sillier in disposition, quicker to smile. God, he hoped Sean didn’t lose that.

Miles finished the final letters on the heavy piece of mahogany and blew away the dust again, eyeing his work.

Marcus Bradley Davies

Dec. 15, 2005 – July 24, 2020

Beloved Son and Brother

“A time too brief for a star so bright”

At Sean’s suggestion, Miles had added a silhouette of a Jedi Knight with his saber in a fighting pose. Carving that in with the Dremel had required great patience and care. Miles grinned slightly through his pain – the boys had always loved to pretend to be heroes in Star Wars, and often played at being young jedi doing battle against various adversaries, wielding their mock light sabers or pretending to fight space battles in various online games. Marcus had been in the process of painting a model of an X-Wing fighter before going off to Summer Camp. The unfinished pieces littered a small side table in Marcus’ bedroom.

“What do you think, Spud?” he asked, turning to let Sean see the woodwork. Sean got up to get a closer look, running one hand over the board.

“I think that looks great, Dad,” Sean choked out, “Marcus would have really liked this. What’s next?”

“Well, we need to sand the wood until it feels smooth, then put a coat of varnish on it – maybe two coats, we’ll see,” Miles explained. “Do you think you’d like to help with that?” he asked, offering a low-grit sanding block to Sean.

The boy nodded and took the block from Miles. Before he could begin, Miles explained what was needed, “it’s best to always sand the wood with the grain – see the lines of texture? Follow those lines. Don’t go against the grain, it’ll look all scratchy.” He held the boy’s hand and showed him the motion, then let go to watch Sean do it by himself.

Miles’ thoughts drifted back to a few weeks prior; he’d been preparing to go to summer camp with his sons along with most of the scout troop and the Webelos den, but events at work had conspired to require him to change his plans. His coworker Ernie Anders had come down with COVID and had to be hospitalized, requiring Miles to take his place delivering an online Sustainability class for juniors in engineering programs at the University of Florida. It was the same course that Miles usually taught during the fall and spring semesters, so preparation had not been an issue. Connectivity had been the limiting factor. Given the lack of Wi-Fi connectivity at the summer camp facilities, Miles knew he wouldn’t have been able to run the class from the camp, so he had opted to remain behind. He’d sent Marcus off to camp along with his Uncle Raul and cousin Mary Beth, and Dan Sullivan, the Webelos Den leader had given Sean and Ellie a ride to do the Webelos portion of the camp at mid-week.

His thoughts were brought back to the present by a vibration near his hip. He unclipped his cell phone from its belt holster and looked at it briefly, seeing the caller was Penny, Beth’s younger sister. Miles stepped back from the workbench, held the phone to his ear and in a low voice answered, “Hey Pen, what’s up?”

“Miles! Thank God you answered! They’re sick, Miles! Raul and Mary Beth are sick! Raul had a bad fever last night, started coughing early this morning, and passed out a bit ago. I called 911 right away! An ambulance took Raul to Shands, and I’m getting ready to drive the girls there myself. Mary Beth has also been coughing a lot and running a fever of 102°F, and I’ve got a low-grade fever myself! The EMT’s wouldn’t say anything – just told us all to mask up and get to the hospital ASAP! I need you to meet us at the hospital and take Ellie – she doesn’t seem sick at all. I’m so worried, Miles! What if…”

“Don’t think about that, Pen. Don’t even go there. Just get you and the girls to the emergency room and focus on them. Sean and I will mask up and head that way right now – I’ll call you when we get there,” he said with quiet urgency.

Miles disconnected the call, then stepped over to Sean as he holstered his phone. “Hey, spud – we need to go, now. Aunt Penny, Uncle Raul and the girls had to go to Shands. The others are sick, but Ellie seems fine, so we’re gonna go pick her up and watch her for your aunt and uncle. So, let’s mask up, and I want you to try to put on a brave face for your cousins.”

Sean put down the sanding block, brushed the sawdust off of his clothes and replied with a quick “yes sir!” before pulling his mask out of his pocket and stringing it over his ears, covering his nose and mouth as he’d been taught.

The drive from his house to Shands hospital was nerve-wracking – Miles’ house was on the extreme northeast outskirts of town, but Raul and Penny lived almost as far out, just further to the west. He should be able to get there at about the same time, if not before Penny, as he lived closer to Waldo road, which was effectively a main traffic artery. He turned on the radio to distract Sean while his own thoughts travelled dark pathways. More members of their family were sick! Were their illnesses somehow related?

Miles gripped the wheel in frustration. The whole COVID lock-down had started off like some twisted joke, with events seemingly being manipulated to plant fear in the minds of the people and distract them from mounting political issues. Then, earlier this month the President and VP had died, throwing the country into turmoil.

Here in Florida, most sane folks had doubted the hysteria being preached on cable news outlets, but still adopted a pragmatic approach – not adhering 100% to CDC guidelines, but attempting to be very deliberate in their actions, working from home when possible, maintaining the recommended separation, wearing masks when inside – but the lockdowns were taking a psychological toll, and folks were starting to rebel against government recommendations. Many politicians were publicly expressing doubts behind the motivations of the government actors recommending the lockdowns, and some had gone so far as to openly scoff at masks and social distancing.

Their own scout troop had taken a brazen approach, opting to ignore official guidelines and hold a traditional summer camp rather than cancel. The adult leaders had reckoned their risks were slim, as most of them had been self-isolating since returning from the Spring Break sailing trip down in the Keys, at most limiting their gatherings to the extended scouting family of the troop and the pack. All those attending the summer camp were required to test negative for COVID, and temperatures were monitored several times throughout the day while at camp. Neck gaiters had been specially purchased with the troop logo and number printed on them, and all scouts had been advised to wear them when in classrooms or other enclosed spaces, except when eating meals. Miles wondered if the camp had somehow become a spreader event – was it merely coincidence that Marcus had suddenly taken ill and died, and now, a few days later, Raul and Mary Beth were showing what sounded like the same symptoms? Miles was not a big believer in coincidences.

Upon arriving at the hospital, he had to look for a parking spot, the lot being more full than a few days ago, and he immediately called Penny on her cellphone. After a few rings, Penny answered. “Penny, we’re in the parking lot right out front of the ER entrance. How far out are you guys?” he asked, as he got out of the vehicle to walk toward the hospital entrance.

“We’re just pulling in now,” she responded, her voice sounding ragged. “I see where you are – I’ll send her over as soon as I can find a parking spot.”

“Wait,” he urged her, reversing course to head back to his Expedition. “You can have my spot – I’ll back out, you pull in, and we’ll take Ellie with us while you and Mary Beth head inside.”

“Good idea – and thanks,” came her clipped reply, as he watched her Tahoe pulling into his row of the lot.

Miles jumped into his vehicle, started it up, and quickly backed out of the spot, allowing Penny to pull in. She’d no sooner parked than her door and the one behind her flew open, with her and Ellie spilling out, each wearing their masks. Ellie came running towards her uncle, while Penny ran around to the other side to help Mary Beth out. Miles put the SUV in park in the middle of the aisle and got out to intercept Ellie.

“I’ve got to get the two of us in there – I’ll call you when I know something. Take care of my baby, Miles. Ellie – you behave for your uncle!” she said, slamming the door and tossing a quick wave as the two of them headed toward the hospital entrance.

“We’ve got this, Pen. You go on – get in there. Call me later,” he waved back, then grabbed Ellie up in a hug. She was shaking and crying, so he just held her for a moment, trying to comfort her, then he stood and led her back to his Expedition. “C’mon, Ellie. We’re gonna take a ride in the Beast, and you’re coming home with us for now. Buckle up now,” he told her, shutting her door as soon as he saw she was belted into her seat.

He got in the driver’s seat, looked at Sean in the passenger seat and tousled the boy’s hair, then started the SUV and headed for home. He was a little puzzled as he passed a trail of white vans pulling into the hospital as he was pulling out – he had seen military base access stickers on the windshields, and they had government plates on them. He finally saw U.S.A.F. stenciled on the rear door of the last van. Huh. Wonder what’s with that? He pulled out and turned toward home.

The traffic on the roads between the hospital and home was almost non-existent, which was the new norm, even for a Monday in a college town. Many of those deemed non-essential were hunkering down at home, or at least minimizing their activities outside their home, and in-person classes had been cancelled for the coming fall semester at the University. Gainesville was eerily silent – almost like right before a hurricane… He had to pull to the side as a lone ambulance turned onto the road up in front of him, headed back the way he came. Looks like people keep needing ambulances, he thought grimly to himself.

The house was dark and quiet when he backed into the garage – having become emptier than ever in the past few days. Miles had briefly considered whether he should sell the house and take Sean somewhere else, away from the memories contained in this home. The good memories did outweigh the bad, but still…

“Ellie, have you had anything to eat yet today? He asked his niece. Seeing her shake her head, he reached for the cabinet, asking her, “Would you like some pancakes?”

***Gainesville, FL – Evening, Sunday, July 26, 2020***

Miles was binge-watching season 3 of Stranger Things upstairs with the kids over DiGiorno Pepperoni pizza when he heard his doorbell ring. Maybe it was Penny, come to get Ellie. He told the kids to go on watching while he went to answer the door.

He paused at the door to wipe the sweat from his brow – now why was he so sweaty? He’d not exerted himself on the stairs, but the house did feel a touch warm – perhaps the AC was on the fritz? He turned on the porch light and checked the peephole. Definitely not Penny. Instead, someone – no, two individuals dressed in biohazard bubble suits were standing on his front porch.

Miles reached over to a basket on the table next to the door, grabbing and putting on a face mask before he opened the door. “It’s a little early for Trick or Treat, isn’t it, guys?” he asked. “Errr, ladies?” he corrected himself. A pair of young women were in the bubble suits, one carrying a stainless-steel briefcase. He saw the air force logo stenciled on the left-side of one of their breasts…chests? Whatever.

“Mr. Joshua Davies?” the first one asked. “I’m Lt. Jansen. This is Staff Sergeant Mitchel. We’re from the 144th Medical Airwing out of MacDill. We wanted to follow-up with you about your son’s recent death, as well as some other illnesses we believe might be related. May we please come in?”

He paused for just a second, briefly agitated by the casual reference to his son’s passing. Miles eyed the young lieutenant closely, then asked, “Why’s the Chair Force out here on my doorstep, running this operation, Jansen? Shouldn’t something like this fall to the CDC, or at worst, FEMA?”

The Air Force officer bristled slightly at the rub, then looked Miles directly in the eye and replied dryly “Sorry, sir. The good folks at the CDC had a golf match with the Navy this past weekend, with FEMA handling the caddying. Evidently, the Navy brought their own JP-5 Hootch, and all parties are still recovering.”

This caused Miles to give her a wry grin. “Fine. Come in,” Miles backed away from the door, making room for them to enter, noticing the white van parked in his driveway as he closed the door.

“Perhaps we should sit over at the dining room table. It’ll be easier for you to manage in those suits than if we sat in the living room.” Miles was a little flustered, but didn’t want to let the flyboys in on that. “I’d offer you a drink, but have no idea how that would work, with your space suits and all. Did you say you were air force, or space force?”

“A drink won’t be necessary, Mr. Davies,” the young lieutenant replied.

“Please, call me Miles. I go by my middle name.” he said, thinking she might be cute under that suit. Hard to tell.

The young officer placed her case on the table and opened it. Inside, among other things, was a ruggedized laptop. She pulled that out, and then slid the case over to the noncom next to her. As the lieutenant was booting up her laptop, the staff sergeant pulled what looked like a small, zippered pouch out of the case, along with a small machine of some sort. Pushing the case aside, she opened the pouch, and began to remove a few items, including a packet containing a cotton swab. Opening the packet and removing the swab, the noncom turned to Miles. “I just want to test you to see if you’ve been exposed to the virus. Oh, and your younger son - we should test him while we’re here.”

“I have my younger son here, as well as my niece,” he explained, looking skeptically at the testing kit. “I had to take her this morning while my sister-in-law took the rest of her family to the hospital. Look - let’s test me first, please - we’re still dealing with the aftermath of my older son’s death, and my niece is pretty worried about her mom and dad. We’re all a bit on edge.”

“That’s fine, sir. We’ll start with you. Please take this swab and rub it around the inside of your cheek,” she said, taking the swab back from Miles and putting it into a slot on the little machine she’d removed from the case. “This test will take about 15 minutes to complete and will let us know if you have been infected.”

“If I test positive, and the kids test positive, what then?” Miles asked the staff sergeant.

At this point, the other woman spoke up. “Let’s worry about that if we get there. For now, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Let’s start with your older son’s scout troop. I have notes from one of his physicians that he had been to a summer camp earlier this month, and that there had been an incident – he got sick, or something?”

 “All seriousness, Lieutenant. How did this billet fall to you?”

Jansen paused for a moment, then squared herself again, as if bracing for an argument. “The Air Force has some operational knowledge when it comes to this specific virus which I am not at liberty to discuss at the moment, other than to say we have a tactical advantage in dealing with it. Now, if you please, time is short. The camp?”

Miles grunted to himself, momentarily putting aside inter-force rivalries, and carefully gave the lieutenant the basic details of the camp. “That’s right. A lot of scouts from his troop, along with the den of second year Webelos scouts from our pack and about 18 adult scout leaders all went to a bible camp we’d leased over near Ocala National Park. Normally, we’d have gone somewhere in state, like La No Che, but the regular scout camps were all hosed up due to the Pandemic. They were offering a lot fewer merit badge courses, and were imposing so many restrictions, our scouts didn’t want to go. As an alternative, the troop decided to run a camp on their own. It was actually a pretty impressive event,” Miles offered.

“Do you have a list of the scouts and adults who went to the camp, Miles?” the lieutenant wanted to know.

“Of course – I can print you a roster of the troop and the pack, and then highlight those who went. If you’ll wait right here, I’ll go print that from my laptop.” Miles walked over to his den, then logged into Scoutbook.com from his laptop and pulled up the rosters, running the print job to his laser printer. Returning a moment later with several pages of roster and a yellow highlighter, he began highlighting the names of the scouts and adults that had gone. A few moments later, he passed the list to the lieutenant.

She looked at the pages briefly, then passed them to the staff sergeant. “Use your cell phone – take photos of each of these pages and send them back to Captain Whitmer at Shands.” Turning back to Miles, she continued asking questions. “Aside from your son, niece and her parents, are you aware of any others from the camping group who have fallen ill?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Miles answered. “To be honest, before Penny called me this morning, I thought perhaps Marcus had died from something he’d picked up in that lake water, some new strain of amoeba. Now, I am beginning to wonder if the camp was instead some sort of spreader event.”

“That is our concern as well,” offered Jansen. The machine in front of the staff sergeant lit up red, and she leaned over to show it to her companion. Jansen closed her eyes for a moment, then re-opened them, her jaw set. “Miles, please go get your laptop, or a tablet if you have one.”

Confused, he got up from the table and went to grab his iPad, returning with it while logging on with his fingerprint. He immediately saw multiple messages in his messenger app, all on the channel for the adult scouters. Multiple versions of “anyone else sick?”, “going to the ER”, “We’ve got it bad!” and many more. Miles felt a chill run up his spine.

When he sat back down, he mentioned the messages he had seen, to which she just nodded, as if already aware somehow. She had turned her ruggedized laptop to him. “Please read, and using your finger, sign the NDA form here,” she instructed him.

Scanning the NDA, he was curious about some of what he read. Still, it had the basic elements of most NDAs he’d read in the past – don’t talk about any of this, or we’ll sue the fuck out of you and imprison you – so he signed it with his finger. The lieutenant turned the laptop around and waggled her finger on the screen, then turned it back around again, this time displaying a QR code in the middle of the screen. He thought he saw his name toward the bottom of the screen. “Using your tablet, please scan the QR code to open the website it will direct you to,” she instructed.

Miles used the camera on the iPad to scan the QR code, then opened the resulting site. “What’s this? It’s asking me to confirm my identity.”

“Correct. Please enter your social security number, so that the remainder of this session will be associated with you, specifically. The site you’re at is a specialized compatibility questionnaire designed to help us pair you with suitable vaccine partners. Let me give you the short version: the virus you and your family have been exposed to is being called DuoHalo, and it is quite the fucking nightmare. Publicly, the deaths have been attributed to COVID and are being under-reported to avoid a general panic, but actual death rates are shockingly high.” She watched the reaction to the information play across his face for a moment, running the gamut from disbelief to shock to anger, before she continued. “The mortality rates are much higher among men than women. Much, much higher. We’re talking about 85-90% mortality rates, versus around 30-40% for women. Also, very oddly, the virus seems to be almost 100% lethal to adolescents, between the ages of eleven and seventeen. Your oldest son fell into that category, as does your older niece. Children below the age of eleven, such as your younger son and niece, do not get sick from the virus, but they can be carriers.”

Miles noted that Jansen had included Mary Beth in the adolescent category – that sounded bad. But before he could say anything, she continued, “The Air Force has been working since early this year to develop a vaccine capable of defeating DuoHalo. We’ve got one, but it takes time to mass produce, so we’re limiting the roll-out to reactive applications for the moment, until we have enough doses stockpiled to go proactive with it.”

Miles looked like he wanted to ask some questions at this point, but she held up her gloved hand, indicating he should hear her out. “The vaccine does have some – shall we say – interesting caveats. It cannot be given directly to a male. Any man dosed with the vaccine directly dies faster than if he had DuoHalo.” She watched Miles shift uncomfortable at this, but he remained silent, his eyes locked on hers as she briefed him. Opting to continue in the hopes of getting in front of his questions, she went on, saying, “Females given the vaccine become highly resistant to the virus, plus many other ailments. The vaccine itself synthetically enhances the woman’s immune system at a genetic level, creating what essentially become super white blood cells. Once combined with the target woman’s genome, the vaccine’s protection can be shared with a male partner through sexual intercourse.”

He could remain still no longer. “So, you’re telling me that you can’t just stick me with a syringe to vaccinate me,” he said, paraphrasing what he’d just heard. “Instead, I’d need to contract it second-hand through intercourse, like some STD? How exactly would that work? I don’t have a wife, or current love interest. Is the air force sending out lovely ladies such as yourselves to dose me up?” he asked, his voice beginning to rise in frustration at the ridiculousness of the situation.

The young lieutenant shook her head, morbidly amused at his assumption, before calmly explaining, “No sir. That wouldn’t work at all. The protection is transitory, fading quickly over a matter of days, requiring a regular repeat of the… dosing process. So no, we’re not here to ‘dose you up’, as you say.” She gave him a moment to register what he’d been told, and to regain his composure.

Rubbing his eyes for a moment, he felt mentally and emotionally drained. Looking back up at her, he asked, “So, Lieutenant, how does this work?”

“The partnership between the male and female would need to be long term. In fact, at present, it looks like it will become a permanent bond, as the female’s ongoing protection will require frequent interaction with the male, and vice versa. Also – and here’s the part most guys really seem to enjoy, eventually – more than one female partner is required. In fact, multiple partners are needed in order to afford the male a reasonable level of protection.”

Miles looked up at her with disbelief manifested in his expression. “Wait a minute, not only are you telling me that I need a sex partner - which I inconveniently do NOT have at this time – but that I will need multiple such partners?! I mean, seriously, whiskey tango foxtrot!”

Just then, the light on the test machine in front of the other air force woman blinked red. Looking briefly at the indicator, Jansen shifted her approach, circling around the logic in order to lead him to the answer. “As you have already been exposed, you should understand that you have very slim chances for survival, unless you are partnered quickly with a number of females. That is where that website comes in. The Oracle questionnaire will ask you a series of extremely personal questions. No human will read your responses, so I urge you to be candid. Your answers will be used to identify potential partners who are a high match with you. Women will be asked to complete the same questionnaire and then will be given a list of good matches, letting them pick a man they would like to become partnered with. So, you’ve got maybe a day – probably less, before your symptoms become bad enough that you’ll be beyond hope. In the meantime, we need to test the children now.”

“What happens to them if they test positive?” he asked.

“Nothing tonight. Tomorrow, if you are getting worse and have not yet received a partner, they will need to be relocated, at least for a short while, during which time you will hopefully receive one or more partners. The test results will dictate whether they can go and stay with relatives or need to be taken to a shelter the air force has erected,” Jansen replied.

Miles nodded, not happy with that prospect, then called the children down to the dining room. They looked a little scared of the visitors. “It’s okay,” he explained. “These are medics from the air force. They want to test you to see if you have been exposed to the same virus that your parents and I have. I need you both to let me swab the inside of your cheek – that’s all.”

This helped to calm them down, and Miles took the swabs from the staff sergeant and swabbed Sean with the first swab, then Ellie with the second, passing the test swabs back to SSgt. Mitchel. She inserted each of the swabs into the machine.

Miles turned back to his son and niece, telling them, “That’s great. That’s all we needed from you. Now”, he checked his watch, “It looks like you’re going to be staying the night with me, Ellie, so why don’t you borrow some shorts and a T-shirt from Sean to sleep in. Sean, you know where the spare toothbrushes are – please get one for your cousin. I want the two of you to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. Sean, please set up the bed in the guest room across from yours. Both of you, I’ll come give you hugs good night in thirty minutes. March!”

“Yes sir!” they both responded, turning and heading back through the kitchen to other parts of the house.

Turning back to the two air force women, Miles caught them smiling for a moment.

Lt. Jansen checked her laptop, “It looks like several members from your list have already started checking into the emergency room,” she noted, confirming Miles’ unvoiced fears. “I think we can confirm at this point that the summer camp was a spreader event. Members of our unit will be reaching out to the remaining people on this list, and then get started doing contact tracing to see where else the virus may have been spread. We’re going to head out here in just a moment. I need you to complete that questionnaire ASAP for me, Mr. Davies. You will hear from me or someone from my team in the next few hours, so if you turn in, please put your cell phone ringtone on max volume.”

Just then, the staff sergeant’s machine flashed red below each swab. “You may want to tell your kids to each pack a bag with two sets of clothes and sleeping gear, as well as hygiene kits. If we can’t get you a partner in time, we’ll probably need to take them in the morning to a holding facility, where we will care for them while we sort things out,” Jansen informed him.

Miles scowled, looking worried. “What happens to them if I don’t get a partner?”

“Well, there’s about a ten percent chance they’ll be brought right back here in a week or so. But cheer up – you’re a good catch – I’m sure we’ll have a partner out to you in no time, Just finish the damned questionnaire. Now. Seriously,” she said, emphasizing with a foot stomp, making him chuckle, getting him just a little out of his head. The lieutenant looked at him with a sad smile, and the two turned and left. He closed the door behind them and went back to his tablet to begin the questionnaire.

He had only gotten through the basic information elements of the Oracle before the kids came running in to give him a good night hug. He held them each for longer than normal. Sean was sniffling a bit, his eyes misty but trying to keep a brave front up for his cousin. Miles knew the boy was working things out. Smart kid.

Ellie was openly crying. “Uncle Miles, have you heard from my mom? Has she texted you? I’m really worried! What if something has happened?”

Miles only held her more tightly. “No, El, I haven’t heard anything yet. But no news could be good news,” he lied to her, “Tomorrow is another day. Hey, do me a favor, you two. Go gather your dirty clothes and put them in a basket – I’ll put them in the wash right now and throw them in the dryer before I go to bed. That way, my near-and-dear niece, Elise,” he tickled her, making her giggle in spite of her sadness, “you’ll have clean clothes in the morning. Now scoot, you two! I’ve got some homework I need to finish!”

Giving each of them another hug, he tousled Sean’s hair as they ran off to get their laundry. A few moments later, Sean returned with a basket of clothes, and then headed off to bed. Miles got up, put the clothes in the wash, got himself a fresh tea and returned to the questionnaire. He chose to take the work into his den. The chair in there was much more comfortable. As he went into the next section, he laughed at the irony of one of the questions – Interest in polyamory. What happens to the poor fucker that says no? Marking it positively, he moved on.

Soon, he had to open up a browser on his laptop just to google some of the terms. Miles thought himself at least aware of, if not familiar with most fetishes, but who in the hell had heard of some of these things!? There were fetishes for people who wanted to fuck statues, or involved feces – heck, there was even a fetish involving clowns! That one made Miles chuckle to himself. He could maybe see a thing for, like, Harley Quinn, but Pennywise made him shudder. The list went on… cuckolding, tears, feeding, drinking blood….

A few items were of interest, and Miles slid the bar to indicate openness to experience, or stronger desires when appropriate. For most, he did not indicate a strong opinion, and for a few, he did slide the bar to strong disinterest. He had no desire for things involving scat, or things going into his butt.

After what seemed like forever, Miles concluded the questionnaire and hit submit. He then put down the iPad and went to put the clothes into the dryer, chuckling to himself over narratophilia – how apropos for a sailor! He checked his phone – still nothing from Penny. He sat in his recliner in his den, rubbing at his temples. His head was hurting a bit worse, he noticed. He shut his eyes to rest them. Only for a moment. Okay, two moments. Maybe just a few more….

***Gainesville, FL - 0200, Monday, July 27, 2020***

The ringtone from his phone startled him awake. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he looked at the caller ID – was it Penny? Nope. The caller ID showed an 813 area code. Tampa. MacDill is in Tampa. Must be the lieutenant. Miles answered the phone, suppressing a cough, looking at his watch – two fucking A.M.!

“Miles, Staff Sergeant Mitchel is on her way to your house right now with a prospective partner. You need to wake up and be ready – if you both decide to move forward, you’ll need to hurry – remember, you’re on the clock. I’m rooting for you Miles, but I’m not sure I can get you another partner before it’s too late, so fingers crossed on this one. Bye for now!” and she disconnected the call.

Miles stood up from his chair stiffly, stretching to try to assuage the pain in his shoulders, triggering a coughing fit then nearly doubled him over. Walking from his den into his bathroom, Miles turned on the hot water and let it heat up while he took a piss, then grabbed a washcloth, got it nice and warm, and scrubbed his face and head to wake himself up. The old tricks still work, he thought grimly, as his head started to clear. Drying himself off with a hand towel, he brushed his hair – got to make a good first impression – and brushed his teeth. He’d just finished and was walking to the kitchen to get some fresh tea when he heard a knock at the front door. Bless that sergeant for not using the doorbell. He wanted the kids to stay in bed.

Opening the door, Miles saw that the sergeant had indeed returned, with another person in tow, wearing a hooded Tyvek suit, booties, gloves, and a mask. Must be running low on hazmat suits, Miles thought grimly to himself as he backed away from the door and bade them to enter.

“Sorry for the middle-of-the-night visit, Mr. Davies, but I have an urgent delivery for you. I’m going to need you to sign here accepting receipt of your partner,” a very tired Mitchel said, “and then I’ve got to get going. I’ve got more of these deliveries to make, and there’s a lot of lives hanging in the balance. Just sign at the bottom with your finger, please.”

He looked down at the form displayed on the tablet – DA-6969-R. Some fucker at the Pentagon has a twisted sense of humor, he thought, as he squiggled something on the form with his thick fingertip, too tired to read it. Handing it back to the sergeant, Miles saw her out the door. “Good luck with the rest of your deliveries, Mitchel. Stay safe!” and he closed the door.

“You can go ahead and take that shit off now. You’ve either gotten the vaccine, or we’re both fucked anyway,” he said to the new arrival with resignation, walking past her toward the kitchen. “Can I get you some water, tea, or maybe coffee?”

“I’ll take some of your tea, Miles,” he heard a hoarse voice say. He stopped. Fuck. FUCK! He knew that voice. She shouldn’t be here! FUCK! He covered his face with his hands briefly and tried not to rage, knowing what her being here meant. He spied her in the reflection of the glass pane on the ‘In this house, We Do Geek’ poster that his wife had hung on the dining room wall just a few months before she died. The woman in the reflection looked tired, sagging in defeat; he could clearly see the image of his sister-in-law.

God-fucking-dammit! In a zombie-like fugue, he continued into the kitchen to pour a glass of tea for her. He’d wanted to turn around and hold her, but he had no doubt that fucking suit was hot – he’d sweated his balls off in them back when he was in the navy, so he had no doubt she was thirsty.

Returning to where she was doffing the plastic garb, he waited until she had a hand free, then handed her the tea. She gulped down more than half the glass – no ice to get in the way, he kept a pitcher in the refrigerator – and then set the tea down on the half-moon table in the foyer. Miles slowly approached Penny and wrapped her in his arms, both of them starting to cry. She hugged him back, her body wracked as her sobs grew harder. His sobs rose in strength and tempo to meet hers. They stood like that, bawling like lost children, for several minutes before Miles had to pull away from her, racked by a coughing fit. When he was able to breathe again, he turned back to face her.

The pain was clear on each of their faces. He knew before she told him. But he had to clarify, to be certain. “Raul?” he simply asked. She shook her head, eyes flooding with fresh tears. “Mary Beth?” he asked more quietly, hoarsely. Again, she shook her head - more slowly this time, heavy with grief - losing all composure, beginning to shake. He wrapped her in his arms again, holding her, crying with her, sharing in an agony he knew all too well. His Marcus had only gone before them by a few days. The gash in his heart was still fresh. He knew her torment. He still felt Beth’s loss every damn morning. Every time he turned over to her side of the bed, and she was not there, he felt it all over again. He knew what she was going through – what she would continue to go through - and sympathized.

Years before, one truly miserable morning, he had considered whether or not he wanted to go on, but he’d dismissed the thought as cowardly. He had to live, for his boys. Now, he knew she was confronting the same dismal thoughts. And he knew she was making the same choice, for the same reason that he had.

And he knew that he was facing the same choice again. And he knew what he would choose, for the same reason he’d done so before. Fucking hell.

Gradually, Penny’s shaking subsided. Miles helped her strip off the rest of the Tyvek suit, leaving her in the clothes she’d worn to the hospital. He gently guided her over to the couch, lowering her to sit on it, and sat next to her, still holding her. They remained that way for a long time, until both had cried themselves out, exhausted, drained of all emotion for the moment.

Penny was so still, Miles wondered if she’d fallen asleep. Pulling back from her to look into her face, he offered her a gentle smile. “Want something to eat?” he asked, trying to avoid the elephant in the room for the moment.

Penny laughed softly at first, and Miles joined in. Then, quite loudly, her stomach growled, making her laugh a bit harder. Miles put his forehead against hers, hearing his own stomach growl in sympathy. “What poor wretches we are,” he said ruefully. Disengaging from her, Miles stood and went into the kitchen.

“I can warm up some pizza,” he called softly back to her, “or keep it simple, just make a bowl of cereal. What would madame prefer?” he asked her in his best butler’s voice, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“Surprise me, Jeeves,” she responded, matching his silliness.

***Gainesville, FL - 0300, Monday, July 27, 2020***

Miles and Penny shared a breakfast – he’d whipped up some scrambled eggs covered in shredded cheddar cheese, warmed up a whole pack of bacon, getting it good and crispy, and toasted up some English muffins, slathered in butter and grape jelly, and a large glass of orange juice to wash it all down. The two sat together at the table, just focusing on eating, not talking, taking their time. When Penny finished her plate and drained her glass of OJ, he took away her dishes, rinsing them and putting them into the dishwasher, and cleaned away all traces of their meal.

Miles had another coughing fit while cleaning the dishes and noticed he was struggling a bit harder to breathe. He washed his hands, wiped his face with a damp towel, then turned to walk over to where Penny was sitting, offering her his hand. Watching Miles closely, Penny took his hand, standing, and let him lead her toward the master suite. To her surprise, he angled left toward the living room – Penny stopped, tugging at Miles to stop.

“What are you doing, Miles?” she asked, looking unblinkingly into his eyes.

For his part, Miles did not seem to want to match her gaze. “I- I thought perhaps we should sit down and - and talk a bit,” he stammered.

“Miles, do you want to die?” Penny asked him gently in a calm, steady voice. “Or do you want to be there for Sean, as well for the rest of us that need you? What’s the plan, here?”

“I- I-,” he stammered, “I am struggling, Penny. Of course I want to live. Of course I want to be here, for Sean, for you and El. But I’m revolted by the necessity of what we’re being asked to do! And I am terrified that, if I give in and do this - even if to save my life – you’ll resent me forever. I cannot do that,” he stressed. “Not to you! Not to her,” he said, the last part more softly.

Penny reached out to pull him to her, holding him closely. “They told me I had to take the shot or die from this DuoHalo shit. So, I did,” she explained to him softly, sadly, but not with anger. “They also told me that I could save Raul, but he was too far gone. I- I- couldn’t save him,” she went on, tearing up as she spoke. Miles started to pull into an embrace again, but she stopped him, gently, but resolutely.

“Look, I understand,” she went on, still softly, still keeping her voice gentle, even soothing. “I understand how jarring this is. You’ve just lost Marcus and have got to be scared shitless that you might die and leave Sean all alone! I get it!” She closed her eyes and sobbed softly, almost whispering, “Raul and Mary Beth are gone as well, and I know I'm scared. But I won’t be going through this alone. If I am to live, I am going to have to partner with someone. What are my choices? Go partner with some complete stranger? Hope against hope that the government gets this shit right and matches me with a good fit. That’s terrifying! Add to it that I’d have to drag Ellie into the mix – how will that affect her? She’s already going to lose it over Raul and Mary Beth – now I push her into a stranger’s home, with who knows what other people? No, Miles. I can’t do that. Not to my baby.”

Miles was openly crying with Penny now, the agony plain upon his features, his shoulders slumped in defeat and despair. “I'm lost, here, Penny! Lost! This is a bell that can’t be unrung!”

“Then let’s ring it together, Miles,” she responded with firmness, getting her tears under control. “This is a choice we must make, but we can make the best of it, right? If I partner with you, you won’t be replacing Raul, but I know I will have the very best partner that I could ever hope to get. Neither of us woke up yesterday planning to do this. We’re not doing something bad. If you’re drowning in heavy seas, no one hates you for accepting a lifeline. Raul wouldn’t. Beth wouldn’t. I won’t. Will you hate me, Miles? Or will you save me?”

Miles broke at that statement. How could she ask him this? How was it up to him to save her? He turned away from her, coughing hard, then sobbing harder. The void Beth had left in his life could not so easily be filled, could it? He sobbed a little less as he thought this through. He had not sought this out. It was being forced upon him. If it were not Penny, it could be a complete stranger. But what about little Ellie? He knew he was a good uncle for her, and – like it or not – someone was going to fill the role of father figure in her life. DuoHalo and this damned serum had already sealed her fate. What kind of lump of fuck was Miles to leave that to chance?

He would not be careless with those he loved, he resolved. He would do whatever he must to look out for them. He was not seeking this, had not manipulated events to drive this outcome. It was not his doing. But he would be damned if he would leave matters to chance now. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but only succeeding in triggering another coughing fit. As soon as it ended, he looked back at Penny, this time with some kindness mixed with regret. “I will save you,” was his final response.

He would save her. That’s all he had to decide. He would save her. It didn’t matter that he was saving himself. It didn’t matter, because she was family. She was Beth’s sister. He would do it for Beth, twisted as that reasoning might sound. That point came into sharp focus, having not considered that perspective before. Beth would want this.

He felt the knot in his stomach relax. He felt a weight fall from his shoulders. He looked up at Penny, and offered her a tentative smile, then pulled her to him and held her. He. Would. Save. Her. For Beth.

Taking her hand once more, Miles led her slowly through the double doors into the master suite, closing the doors behind them. He guided Penny deeper into the room, stopping before the bed. “No doubts?” he asked her one last time.

“No. I am all in. Just,” she hesitated, “just take it slow. We don’t have to impress each other this time. There will be many more opportunities. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with another man besides Raul.”

He couldn’t help himself. His inner 12-year-old would not be silent. “I’ve never been with another m..” he was saying, before she socked him in the arm.

“I’m trying to have a serious moment, here!” she whisper-yelled at him, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face.

Glad to have broken the gloomy mood, Miles took her in his arms again. “C’mere, you!” he half-growled, pulling her closer for a kiss. As their lips met, she moaned softly. Miles pressed in, parting her lips with his, and gently probing ahead with his tongue. She softly sucked on his tongue, before gently pushing hers into his mouth. The kiss began to take on a bit of urgency. She started to pull his shirt over his head, breaking the kiss long enough to get it free of him, then diving back in for more. He started fumbling with her clothes as well, pulling her shirt up, when she stepped back, then pushed him away just a bit.

“Hang on, sailor man. We’ll get there soon enough,” she chided him, as she peeled off her top, and stepped out of her sneakers. Next, she undid the button on her shorts, then turned around and bent over as she lowered them to her ankles, showing him her thong, before stepping out of the shorts. He watched as she stood back up, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra while slowly turning to face him. Having undone the thing, she let the bra fall to the floor revealing her tits to him.

Throughout the process of her undressing, Miles had been silently in awe, comparing Penny to Beth. There was a strong resemblance between the two. Bearing children had changed both in much the same ways – their breasts had gotten heavier, settling in at a very full C-cup post breast feeding, with the slightest bit of sag. Penny had obviously worked to maintain her figure, with just a hint of residual mommy-weight around her hips and stomach attesting to only so many hours in the day. While not what he would ever call muscular, she wasn’t fat or flabby anywhere. Nature was stepping in, and Miles was starting to tent in his shorts. But, as her beautiful tits came into view, his breath caught as he saw a significant difference. Penny had nipple piercings! Elegant stainless-steel rings adorned each nipple, making Miles drool slightly as his cock sprang to full mast, straining the front of his shorts painfully. Penny gave it a good look as she hooked her thumbs into her thong. Her breathing had deepened, and she was very flushed.

As she removed her thong, she spoke up. “There are a few things you need to know before we do this. They told me as soon as I make first contact with your cum, I'm going to have one of the best orgasms of my life – they called it the ‘priming orgasm’, I think. After that, I can’t cum again until you do, so don’t waste time on heroics! And you’ve got to cum inside me – pussy, mouth, whatever. That’s how you get your dose. When you cum, I’ll have another enormous orgasm, and then I’ll fall into a deep sleep for twelve to sixteen hours, give or take. They said it was the bonding process, but I’ll be fine afterwards. And that’s the only time I’ll have to go through it. Sex will be more normal after that, whatever the hell normal looks like in a poly-pod,” she smiled ruefully.

Miles kicked off his boat shoes and began undoing his belt, tossing his cell phone into the recliner behind him. Knowing his limits, he didn’t try to make it a sexy show. Instead, he focused on not snapping his cock in half as he removed his boxers. When he looked up, Penny had removed her thong and was beckoning him to join her on the bed. As she lay back, her arousal was clear to Miles. She had a clean-shaven mound, so there was nothing to obstruct his view of her swollen labia, already sodden and slightly flowered open, glistening with her lust.

He crawled on the bed, kissing her legs up toward her mound, until he finally reached her pussy. Inhaling her musk deeply, he noted yet another difference – Penny had a scent very different from what Beth had – not bad, just different. He took a moment to lick around her labia, before bending in lower and licking from her taint all the way to her clitoral hood, using the flat of his tongue to cover as much territory as he could. After a few swipes from his tongue, Penny groaned in frustration and grabbed his head, pulling him up.

“Get up here, you!” she said with a lust-filled growl. “I told you before – I can’t orgasm without your cum. Eat me raw later, if you like, but please, Miles. Fuck me. Now!”

Miles willingly complied, admitting to himself that, having dealt with his doubts, he was beginning to enjoy this, and thought she might be as well – just a little bit, at least. He brought his cock up to her entrance and reached down to rub the head around her lips, getting the tip slick with her juices. As soon as he felt he was well-lubricated, Miles began to slowly insert himself into her amazingly tight, hot channel.  Penny moaned with lust, reaching for his waist to pull him deeper. Finally, he was all the way inside. He paused, just relishing the feeling. It had been a while, after all.

Penny, however, had other ideas. She began bucking her hips up at him, urging him to begin stroking in and out of her. Suddenly, she let loose a gasp, as her body stiffened and her legs suddenly wrapped around him, clenching him tightly to her. Miles was surprised at first, until he recalled what she’d told him about the ‘priming orgasm’.

He slowed his thrusts, letting her come down a bit, before she gripped his shoulders and transfixed him with a lust filled stare. “Okay, sailor. Time to make me yours!” and she started pulling at him with her legs, humping up against him, rotating her hips in little circles beneath him, urging him to fuck her harder and faster. She kept changing her tactics, varying her motions, trying to get him to cum so she could achieve her own release.

‘Make me yours’? Miles thought to himself. This must be the serum talking. Still, it stroked his caveman ego. He grinned down at her with lust in his eyes. His distraction was short-lived, however. The last few years had been dry; the sudden, intense intimacy overwhelming Miles, and he was keenly aware that he wasn’t going to last very long. “Penny, you’re getting me close! Your pussy is so hot!” He thrust his hips downward to meet her, feeling her walls squeezing his cock with an impressive grip, and suddenly felt himself erupting inside of her, sending one rope of cum after another deep into her, triggering her own serum-induced orgasm.

Penny clenched him tightly, held him there as her face displayed the intenseness of her climax, until she went limp, lying with her eyes closed beneath him, a slight smile on her face, repeating a single word, “imprinting… imprinting… imprinting…”

Miles extricated himself from her limbs, then crawled out of the bed to go to the bathroom. Turning on the hot water at the faucet, he let it run to warm up while he took a piss. Finished relieving himself, he ran a washcloth under the water, getting it wet, then used it to clean himself from their exertions. Then, after rinsing the washcloth clean, he grabbed a towel and went back to Penny to clean her up, drying her gently, arranging her in what he hoped would be a more comfortable repose, then drew the comforter up to cover her. Gathering her clothes, as well as the washcloth and towel, he tossed the load into the washer and started it running. He’d dry the clothes in the morning, he thought groggily to himself.

As he went back to his… their bed now, he grabbed his cell phone and placed it upon his nightstand charger. Checking that his alarm was set for 7:00 am, he crawled under the comforter next to Penny, wrapped his arms around her, and shut his eyes, praying for a few hours of peaceful rest.

****