Quaranteam - Flyover Country Ch. 03-04

This is an authorized spinoff story in the Quaranteam universe created by CorruptingPower. Special thanks to him for his permission and creative input. Thanks also to my editing team (and fellow spin-off authors) OtterlyMindblowing, AgathonWrites, SilverRyden, BreaktheBar, and RonanJWilkerson.

Chapter 3

July 9, 2020

Aaron woke with a start, disoriented and confused. After several moments, he identified what had roused him: a rampaging wildebeest running amok in the house. Rolling out of his king size bed and pulling on a pair of raggedy shorts, he stumbled out of his room. Stepping into the dining room, he beheld a scene that might have warmed his heart, back before the pandemic started. Mike stomped back and forth around the kitchen, slamming cupboards, banging pans, and swearing loudly.

"Could you maybe try not breaking everything in the kitchen?"

"Shut the fuck up, Aaron. I'm not in the mood. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Apparently, the world is fucking ending and I'm stuck here in this ridiculous house with my irritating brother and my wife is out there in the middle of it. And me? I'm...what am I supposed to do? We haven't spent a night apart since we got married." Mike's head dropped, his breath coming in ragged pants.

"First thing you're supposed to do is stop abusing that poor, innocent pan." Peeling the handle out of Mike's unresisting hand, Aaron gently steered his brother towards the large wooden dining room table. "I'll make us some breakfast. I'm definitely not letting you get anywhere near anything delicate or sharp until Jenny comes back. Maybe not after that either, to be honest."

Deciding on a scramble for the sake of simplicity and speed, Aaron snagged several different vegetables he'd grown. Quickly dicing them up and sautéing them, taking a moment, even now, to admire the sleek kitchen, awash in stainless steel and dark gray marble. While he was working, he kept an eye on his brother slumped over the table, head atop his arms. "Chin up there, little buddy. Jenny will be back in no time."

Mike grumbled unintelligibly, refusing to even lift his head.

"I can't understand you when you talk like that," Aaron joked, repeating his mother's oft-used complaint. Setting a plate in front of Mike before sitting next to him, Aaron cajoled and prodded his brother until he cleared the whole plate.

"Damn. I guess I needed that."

"Somebody was a little hangry," Aaron said. "Feeling better?"

"A little. Still frustrated but at least I'm not starving anymore."

"Good. Want to see what that survey thing the Captain mentioned is all about? Could be fun."

"Fun? A survey? You and I have very different ideas of fun." Despite his protests, Mike went up to the loft and brought down a laptop, eager for anything that might take his mind off Jenny, the pandemic, and the impending doom looming over every man he knew. Aaron carefully typed in the long alphanumeric sequence and was rewarded with a bland government-generated welcome screen. The words "Operation Breadbasket" were conspicuously scrawled across the top of the screen, with the words "Aaron Palmer, Level 4" printed beneath it.

Aaron started clicking through menus, swiftly passing through the mundane background information. As he began the next section of the survey, Mike leaned over his shoulder and stared at the screen in confusion.

"What the hell kind of questions are these? What does any of this have to do with finding you a partner for the vaccine? 'As you and your partner get ready for a friend's wedding, what are you thinking about?' Seriously?"

"These are just basic personality profiling questions, dressed up in a dating disguise. Pretty standard online dating stuff."

"Seriously? I'm glad I skipped out on all this crap then." Aaron continued to click through the questions, until he entered a section that was too strange for Mike to restrain himself. "'Which of these two pictures appeals more to your emotions?' What kind of BS voodoo nonsense personality test relies on your emotional attachment to wiggly lines over boxy ones? That's fucking crazy."

"I don't disagree, but I'm just gonna keep filling out this survey so that maybe I don't die from this apocalyptically bad plague. Sound good?"

Mike grumbled but refrained from any further outbursts while Aaron plugged away at the dating profile portion of the Oracle survey until he finally completed the personality test. The next section covered the types of women he was attracted to, requiring Aaron to identify desirable physical characteristics, age range, and personality traits. Feeling Mike's judgmental gaze over his shoulder, Aaron's desire to speed through this section warred with his need to be thorough and accurate.

"22 years old? Isn't that a little young for you?" Mike asked.

"Hey, the question asks, 'What age of women are you attracted to?' and Captain Hudson said to be completely honest in my answers, so that's what I'm doing. I'm not saying that I want to date every 22-year-old I see. I'm just saying I find some of them attractive. Besides, that number fits the rule."

"The rule?"

"You know, the rule about how young a girl you can date." At Mike's blank look, he continued. "I forget sometimes that you've only ever dated one person and you just don't know these fundamental things. The rule says that the youngest person you can date without being creepy is half your age plus seven. I'm 31, so my number is 22."

"It's 22 and half, which would round up to 23 as the minimum age," Mike said after pausing to do the mental math.

"So I rounded down instead of up. Close enough for government work. If you're just gonna judge my answers, you can go wait for Jenny somewhere else." Mike reluctantly moved to the other side of the table with a glower.

After identifying all the traits that he found attractive, Aaron was forced to rank them in order of importance. He was somewhat surprised to find that he didn't have particularly strong feelings about his partner's physical characteristics. Hair color? Anything could be attractive on the right woman. Breast size? A whole range of sizes are attractive. Thinking back over his past several girlfriends, he realized that he didn't really have a type. Prior to the pandemic, his most recent girlfriends had been a 4' 11" petite blonde waitress, a 5' 7" busty brunette secretary, and a 6' 6" college volleyball coach with vibrant pink hair.

Brushing past his indecisive taste in women, Aaron clicked through to the next section, a startled chuckle forcing itself out. Now he realized why Captain Hudson had emphasized that nobody would be reading his answers. Faced with a lengthy list of kinks and fetishes, Aaron had to identify any that he found appealing. What he found most appealing about this list, however, was the opportunity to mess with Mike.

"Hey, this next section has a bunch of stuff I've never heard of. Can you Google something for me while I keep working through it?"

"Sure. What do you need to know?"

"What's 'coulrophilia' and is it something I would be attracted to?"

After a few moments searching, including the obligatory autocorrected misspelling, Mike was horrified. "You motherfucker. Clowns? It means you want to fuck a clown. Do you want to fuck a clown? Is that what you're into? Why would you put those images into my head? Gross."

Aaron could barely contain his giggles. "Okay, okay, that was my bad. Gonna check 'no' on that one. Sorry. What about 'eproctophilia?'"

Dubious about his brother's intentions, Mike went back to searching. "Farting! Goddamnit Aaron. That's the last time I do you a favor."

Aaron's giggles had escalated into full-blown, tears in his eyes, laughter. "You know I'm gonna have to tell Jenny you were looking for clown porn, right?" Aaron finally managed to say.

Mike dashed around the large table and tried to put his brother into a playful headlock. After an inconclusive bout of wrestling, Aaron managed to shove Mike off him. "I've got to get this shit finished. It's not all clown porn and balloon fetishes, ya know. Gotta be thorough here."

After working through the rest of the questions and double checking his responses, Aaron finally hit Submit. "That took for-fucking-ever," he grumbled to the empty room. With nothing else pressing, he decided to try and relax for a while. He picked up Jenny's copy of Neon Stonehenge and leaned back on the 'lounging couch'—which was much softer and more relaxing than the one he dubbed the 'sitting couch'—to read.

Several hours later, his rapt focus was broken by a mechanical growl, starting faint but growing louder and louder. "Pretty sure they're back," he shouted to his brother who was aimlessly rearranging the laundry (folding it had eluded him) in the bedroom.

Mike raced into the room and yanked open the front door. The rumble of the idling Humvee almost drowned out his shout of joy at seeing Jenny climb out of the vehicle. He grabbed her as soon as she stepped down, clutching her tightly to his chest.

The cute blonde soldier driving the Humvee, surprisingly attired in fatigues and a mask, not a full biohazard suit, leaned out the window holding an electronic tablet. "Somebody needs to sign for her." Mike refused to release Jenny, so Aaron scrawled a squiggly line across the signature block and handed it back. The driver waved at the residents before putting the vehicle in gear and driving back down the long tree-lined driveway.

"Let's get you two lovebirds back inside."

Mike scooped Jenny into a princess carry before following Aaron. Her carefree giggles provided a welcome relief from the tense and gloomy atmosphere pervading the house.

"Put me down, you big oaf," she eventually said. "I've got some important stuff to tell you guys."

Jenny pushed and prodded the brothers until they both landed on the (sitting) couch. She stood across the coffee table from them, subtly shifting her weight from side to side and refusing to make eye contact with either of them.

After several silent, awkward moments, Aaron took pity on her and broke the tension. "Welcome home, JJ. You're looking well. Now, you wanted to talk to us about something?"

"Yes." Steeling her resolve, Jenny continued. "I...I learned some things. Some things about this pandemic. This vaccine. Things are going to be different. Difficult. Different."

The brothers stared at each other in confusion. This was not the confident, coherent Jenny that they were familiar with. Hoping to prevent another awkward silence, Aaron hesitantly spoke up.

"JJ. Jenny. What the fuck is going on? And can you please sit down? It's weird for me to be staring up at such a tiny gnome." Jenny giggled again at his lame joke, some of her unease melting away.

"Sorry. Let me start over. I got the vaccine this morning, but they gave me a whole briefing last night. There were a bunch of videos about everything. Captain Hudson wasn't joking when she said that this vaccine had some unusual complications." Taking another deep breath and finally perching on the arm of an overstuffed armchair, she continued.

"OK. Where do I start? OK. The virus is as horrible as she said last night. Worse. Last night she said a million people were already dead? She glossed over the fact that the Pentagon is projecting that half the country might be dead by Christmas. Half."

"Fuck. Me," Aaron murmured.

"No can do, sport," Jenny said. "That's the next thing. When a vaccinated woman first has sex with a man, they become bonded. Permanently. After bonding, if a woman comes in contact with another man's semen, it causes severe burns and tissue necrosis. It's apparently something that carried over from the original serum that the Air Force used to create the vaccine. Nobody really understands how it works or how it got into the serum, but it's there."

She paused again to let this revelation sink in. Unsurprisingly, Aaron was the first one to realize the implications. "Wait a fucking minute. Permanently bonded? Permanently? That's fine for you two, since you're married, but what about me? Is some random woman going to be permanently stuck with me?"

"Actually, that touches on two things. Three things. First, they are working on finding a way to unbind people, or at least find a way to reassign someone. They didn't get into the specifics, but they seem to understand that it's an issue. Second, this is why the Oracle survey is so important. Their system uses all of that data and generates compatibility ratings for everybody. Women who participate are given information about their top matches and then they get to choose who to bind to. They choose. Everything about this program is voluntary, Aaron. Nobody is being forced and nobody is going in blind."

After reassuring Aaron, Jenny fell silent, though he noticed that her fidgetiness ramped up again. "And third?"

"Third?" asked Mike, who didn't seem to be following this conversation as closely.

"She said three things, but only listed two. There's something else about this program that she's not saying. Spit it out JJ."

"Itsnotgoingtobejustonewoman."

"Come again?"

She took two deep breaths, squeezed her eyes shut, and forced herself to slow down. "It's not going to be just one woman. Who's bonded to you. It's going to be several. Maybe a lot. They're not sure yet."

"That's what I thought. By your expression, I'm assuming that's not just going to apply to me. Right?"

"Wait, what?" asked Mike. "What does that mean?"

"I didn't think you caught it last night," answered Aaron. "Captain Hudson called Jenny your first partner, not your only partner. She also said that a single partner only gave you 70% immunity. There's no way they would consider leaving men with that much risk if there was another way. Did they say how many partners we're supposed to have?"

"Four, to start with."

"Fuck that," interjected Mike. "No way. I'm not a cheater and I'm not sleeping with another woman. Jenny was my first, and she's going to be my only."

"You have to, Mike," Jenny said, anxiety giving her voice a hoarse rasp. "I'm not happy about it, or anything, but I'd rather share you than lose you. This is end-of-the-world shit and I'm willing to do whatever it takes for us to survive it. So yes, you're going to have more partners and we're going to figure this out. Together."

"Together," Mike reluctantly agreed, seeing the resolve in her eyes.

"Even with a house this big, things are going to get pretty cramped with all these women coming," Jenny said. "We're going to need to figure out how this is going to work. How we're all going to fit here."

"Don't worry about it," Aaron said. "I've got it handled." He ignored her dubious glance and she eventually moved on.

"They gave me Oracle codes for the two of us. We'll fill them out tomorrow. After we take care of...some other things."

Her voice trailed off, her eyes flashing as lust finally won out over embarrassment and anxiety. Before that glance could escalate, Aaron interjected. "That's not awkward at all. But before you go and rip each other's clothes off, I do need to tell you something. Jenny...Mike...was looking at clown porn while you were gone." He jumped off the couch and took off running, deftly avoiding Mike's outraged attack.

After a lap around the house, seeing no pursuit from Mike, he stepped back onto the wide covered porch. He leaned over the railing and stared out into the wheat fields, contemplating what the future would look like. A live-in partner. Several live-in partners, actually. He'd never lived with a girlfriend before. His life in the Navy had been too nomadic, and the dating pool around Hopewell didn't really fit him. He'd had to content himself with several somewhat long-distance relationships. But it was hard to build a meaningful relationship on sporadic weekends together in Kansas City or Wichita or wherever.

Nervous tension flooded his system as he imagined the vast challenges that the next weeks, months, and even years would bring. Rather than shrug off the fear, he embraced it, just like Chief Stuart had taught him. He captured the anxiety. Harnessed it. Used it to fuel his resolve, his drive to ensure that any woman he was bonded to would be as happy as he could make her.

Nerves settled, he went in search of a beer. His quest was halted as soon as he stepped inside, however, by loud moaning overlapping with walrus bellows. "Not something I ever wanted to hear," he muttered to himself.

Confused about why he could hear the amorous couple; he reluctantly poked his head into the sitting area separating the two pairs of guest rooms. He spotted the problem immediately. Each pair of guest rooms was connected by a jack-and-jill bathroom. In their haste, Mike and Jenny had apparently forgotten to close any of the connecting doors, funneling their uncomfortably vigorous sex noises into the rest of the house.

As he crept forward to shut the door to the attached bedroom, the rutting couple's caterwauling crescendoed and then faded out. Swinging the door shut, Aaron could have sworn he heard Jenny muttering something. Imaging? Impaling? Imprinting? Whatever it was, it seemed like Mike and Jenny had some weird-ass pillow talk.

Aaron's search for beer now became a hunt for sufficient liquor to silence the memories of his brother's haunting howls, woeful wails, and raucous roars. He at least needed a couple fingers of bourbon to derail the alliterative synonym train that was chugging through his brain.

Perched on a bar stool at the vast kitchen island with a drink in hand, he idly traced his finger along the veins of the marble. Draining the glass and setting it aside, he turned his thoughts to the many mundane tasks which would be required if more people were moving in. "Gonna need more linens," he mused out loud.

"Talking to yourself? Not a great sign of mental stability." Mike had emerged from his lair, flannel bathrobe tied tight around his waist.

"Just trying to process what Jenny told us," Aaron said. "I think best out loud. Wasn't expecting to see you out here again tonight. What's Jenny gonna think about you abandoning her so quick?"

"She won't notice a thing," Mike said definitively. Seeing Aaron's confusion, Mike shook his head wearily. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine. I guess. Weirdo. Anyway, as I was saying to myself, before I was so rudely interrupted, we're going to need more sheets and towels and whatnot. Gonna have to go down to the storeroom and get that stuff."

"We'll need more food too. More mouths to feed," Mike grunted. Furrowed brow and unfocused eyes notwithstanding, Mike was able to make a substantive contribution. Aaron was a little impressed.

"Good point. I'll be sure to up our order from the grocery store. I can also step up my harvest if we need it."

"Sure," Mike said, still distracted.

"We'll also have to increase our zebra herd. Those stripy bastards are sneaky, but pretty tasty."

"Of course. Very tasty. Wait a minute. What?"

"Go to bed, Mike," Aaron said with a laugh. "Whatever's on your mind will still be there tomorrow. We've got a lot of shit to do and not much time to do it. I've got a feeling that this is just the beginning."