Quaranteam: Off the Grid Ch. 01-02

There was a click and a different dial tone briefly before a woman picked up. "Medical."

"Um. Hi, I just got transferred to you because... um. 911 said you would help with some dead people?"

The moment of silence seemed to stretch for Colin as the awkwardness of the question hung in the electronic aether.

"I'm.... I'm going to need some more details than that?"

-o0o-

Colin was racing back up the highway to the turn for the cabin. It hadn't taken him long to realize that the voice on the other end was someone from the military and that they were very interested in his exact location. More him than any number of dead bodies. So he did the only thing that made any sense in that moment.

He legged it.

The 20 year old Toyota was straining as he pushed it harder than he had ever considered when it was his daily driver. Honestly, he was surprised that it was managing to sustain the 85-90mph that he dared to push on the worn old road. Deer Park was a memory along with the chance of supplies from there. He stopped in a tiny store and grabbed the wildly overpriced selection of whatever meat they had for sale. The maskless shop owner watched him suspiciously but was pleased to make the sale. "I expected more of the boys from around here to stop in for the hair of the dog, ya know? That party down in town was supposed to have a couple thousand people and more than a few live up this way." The owner laughed. "Either they're sleeping off the mother of all hangovers... or the PLAGUE got em!"

Colin couldn't keep his mouth shut as he listened to the older man cackle like the pandemic was the funniest joke he had ever heard. He shrugged, hoping the mask didn't let any of his expression through to the old fart. "Yeah, imagine what the Feds would do if they heard about a group that size. I bet they'd quarantine the whole town! They gotta keep the narrative going, right?"

With Deer Park hit as hard as it appeared to have been there was zero chance that Colin was going to try to stop in there again for any reason whatsoever. In addition to the fresh bits there were 2 cases of 12 gauge shells, one of birdshot and one of deer slugs. If he had to start chasing down his own meals then he figured that he should be prepared. The addition of that to his purchase made the old man give Colin a considering look.

At least it killed the jokes about plague.

Packing the groceries into the car took a few minutes and Colin took one last look inside before getting into the driver's seat. The shop owner wasn't just watching him... he was on the phone and staring out. Feeling more out of place than ever Colin took off again, oblivious to the smoke rising over Deer Park in his rearview mirror.

-o0o-

Chapter Two

-o0o-

July 6th, 2020

Staff Sergeant Grace Cressman was having a very bad day.

No. She was having a very bad *year* just like everyone else on the planet. But today really stood out.

It was one of those days that she swore she could feel the weight of her new stripes. It may have been a spot promotion from E4 to E6 because of the horrific casualties caused by DuoHalo, but her CO had made sure to push the idea that she would have gotten the promotion eventually without the unit taking more than 50% losses. It was bullshit, but Grace appreciated that Captain Garner had bothered to make the effort for a 68W medic from Wisconsin.

At 21, she was 3 years into her enlistment and should have been in college working on a nursing degree. But two months ago her Reserve contract had been switched to a full time, active duty assignment. Medics were in short supply and she had been seconded to the Air Force to assist at the big tanker base they had near the Idaho border. Generations of Army ancestors were almost certainly frowning over her shoulder for it, but she had to admit that the Army was skimping on food and accommodations if the enlisted folks could have this kind of treatment in other branches.

It did hit her with a wave of guilt that they could probably afford the better treatment since so many others on base had already died.

Grace shuffled along with the mostly female group who had responded to a citizen call regarding a bunch of potentially contaminated bodies in a parking lot. 2 hours of driving up to this little town had resulted in the promised bodies along with calling in the local National Guard units. Something like 3,000 people had shown up from all over the area for a 4th of July party the night before and the dozen or so corpses left over showed that they had all effectively been exposed. The dead were just the ones who were unlucky enough to be contagious and hit the end of the Duo timer during the festivities.

The brass was already considering the entire town a hot zone and had instituted martial law, armed guards posted at every road leading out and patrols with helos making sure that no one tried to make a run for it cross country. The next couple of weeks were going to be an ongoing slog of protests, palliative care, and body recovery. The only goal was to make sure that these people were as comfortable as possible while DuoHalo ate them from the inside out. She entered the airlocked portion of the camp that was one of the first things built by the fleet of olive drab vehicles that had descended on the city.

The medics were in the second wave to arrive, the security forces stiffened by some infantry boys from the Guard... and pride in the branch be damned, she would rather trust the Air Force over some of these local guys. "Bottom of the barrel" was the kindest thing anyone was willing to say about their training and skillset. While they had certainly made good time getting to Deer Park, their officers had lagged behind. In a show of unbridled machismo they had gotten into a scuffle within minutes of arriving and somehow a pile of unused fireworks from the night before had been set off, burning several homes and a humvee. Grace was completely pleased that she was no where near the fallout from that specific shit show.

The line moved forward again and the airlock closed behind Grace and the 4 others in line around her. They spaced out and T-posed in their suits, looking like a pack of glitched out Call of Duty cosplayers. Even through the mask, she swore she could smell the heavy duty antiseptic fog that was sprayed in on them. She didn't know what absurd chemicals they were using to ensure that not a single cell of Duo was tracked in with them, but she also knew that there was no such thing as overkill when dealing with it. This was a town of 4500 people, and she was there basically to watch more than half of them die before the end of summer.

The day had been taken up with blood tests of every person willing to come out to the local high school. The next step was going door to door and reminding people that martial law actually meant "no, you don't get your damn rights until we unfuck this place." It was a good thing that a full MASH style surgery was being added because Grace and her team suspected that there was a 0% chance of this ending without someone forting up and trying to use firepower to keep these damned feds off their lawn.

A stream of hot water rinsed off the soldiers and they moved into another airlocked room. Each soldier took off a glove as they reached the masked nurse waiting for them. A quick blood draw and Duo test later, they were all released into the changing area. Grace peeled off the mask and hood and took in a deep breath. Even with the tent smelling like hot plastic under the summer sun it was blessedly cool and fresh in comparison with the inside of her gear. Her short blonde hair was matted with sweat even after she had shaved the sides down. Grey eyes looked back out at the mass of freckles on her cheeks, wishing that she could get rid of them just like every other time she saw them. Being a Midwest farm girl was one thing, Grace just didn't want to look like one.

One of the other perks of working with the Air Force was that they actually had their gear in her size. She would only ever clock over 5 foot if you counted her hair... which meant that the One-Size-For-Every-GI equipment of the Army usually meant that she looked like a kid who was trying to play in her dad's gear. She stripped out of the suit, revealing a toned figure and small breasts concealed in a sports bra and a black-and-gold tank top with ARMY directly in the middle. She quickly stripped out of that and her track pants as well, grabbing a towel and hitting the shower. It had to be fast since the next 5 would be in here right behind her group. Lukewarm water cascaded down and she lifted her face into the stream. "Sweet fuck that feels nice right now. Gaaaaaawd."

The other girls with her laughed and agreed. She had only been with this unit for a few days and hadn't had the chance to mingle because of the quarantine. As was apparently now par for the course, there was a 5 to 1 ratio of women to men which meant that the men were all happy as pigs in shit while the women were busy forming cliques at a frightening rate. Grace was still trying to sort out who was in each one, though she definitely felt the distance provided by both branch and her recent elevation to NCO status.

The water cut off after exactly 3 minutes, leading to a string of curses from all 5. "See I joined the Air Force instead of the Navy just to avoid god damn water rationing! Well, that and sleeping with my ass against the wall every night." The speaker was a beefy brunette who was moving her wet hair into a bun, spots of suds still visible. Her saggy breasts made Grace glance at her own as she passed the mirror. Small as they were, they were at least perky enough that she would be able to skip a bra. Well, she could except for her annoyingly puffy nipples which would be visible from fucking space. Her mom had told her that the damn things would settle down eventually. After 2 or 3 kids. She hated the more-than-a-silver-dollar pink rings enough to consider that as an alternative. The rest of her she was actually quite proud of. Toned if not tan, the tiny young woman had spent years working hard at gymnastics and running around a farm. She could buck a hay bale as well as any of her siblings and had gotten suspended twice from high school for putting boys on the ground when they tried to push her or her friends around. Her brothers had been a pretty damn good guarantee against retaliation.

Dressing back into their ACUs, the group left the changing area just as they heard the next group clear the airlock on the other side. So far no one had popped hot for DuoHalo since she had joined the unit. Grace just hoped that they were able to keep that streak while in close proximity to an entire town of infected. Deer Park wasn't so different from where she had grown up outside Unity, Wisconsin. And she knew that with people like this, it was only a matter of time until there was some real pushback about the restrictions that would need to happen if any of them wanted to live. DuoHalo was such a nasty ass little bug that no one wanted to believe how quickly it would kill them. The rumor mill was in full force about some prototype vax for it, but each story seemed to be trying to outdo the last when they talked about the side effects that each story teller had heard about.

She had gotten a laugh about the idea that it would turn all the men into mindless sex slaves. Wouldn't that be a fun twist in world history.

Emerging into the sun again, the inner camp was bustling. Social distancing was still required, but the busy atmosphere almost brought back the spirit of before the pandemics. Barracks, mess tents, and offices were all set up already by the scurrying Airmen... Airwomen? Airfolk? God, all of the terminology that had been layered into the armed forces was going to get kicked right in the balls after the dust settled. It was still so weird to see so many female faces above the uniforms. A couple of other NCOs and officers from other branches were wandering around, either in discussion with their Air Force counterparts or staring with the same slightly out of place "I'm a lost puppy" look that Grace was hoping didn't show on her face. She moved with the flow to the chow line, grabbing some rice, beans, ground meat that probably was beef and a bottle of tabasco. The quality of the food was better than she had gotten at Fort Leonard-Wood, but the cooks still never got permission to add fucking salt, apparently.

She searched the crowd for anyone she might have met over the past few days, but her squad from the morning had dispersed to other locations leaving her to grab a seat in the corner. She got some nods from the group at the table but was locked out of their discussion of... yup. The vaccine. Supposedly high ranking officers and rich businessmen were creating compounds complete with new mansions and dozens of women chosen from only the most beautiful survivors? Grace snorted softly, not wanting to interrupt but definitely not on board with that piece of scuttlebutt.

She genuinely hoped that the government had better things to spend time and resources on than a Hugh Hefiner utopia in the Cali hills.

Her hunger sated, she headed over to the office trailer that she had been assigned to. Skipping a rank meant that she got a dizzying array of paperwork that she had only been slightly aware of as an E4. The first was an "after action report" that didn't involve gunfire but certainly would have enough death linked to it eventually. They still didn't know how many people total were at the party but the number of folks in town who admitted to it made it clear that there were hundreds at least. And with the number of people who showed up after ignoring symptoms? The double handful of bodies from this morning were the tragic beginning.

DuoHalo was fucking entrenched in this little town. Close to 300 of the 500 people tested today had it. And of the people hanging out, shooting fireworks, and downing beer that percentage skyrocketed. The people who tested clean were being moved down to Spokane, the only major city in the area. The infected were being housed in a tent city that had popped up in an open field. They couldn't afford to let anyone break that quarantine and get into the general population again. The MPs and Air Force Security troops had sent out a memo that they expected trouble no later than day 3 of this op.

Running through the paperwork and noting the amount of test kits used, water distributed, and arguments handled along with trying to remember the names of her team and who did what while they were all masked and lacked even name tags made Grace's head hurt. Sure college would probably be harder than this but the lack of life and death consequences would be nice. And among the other things that would be nice to leave behind...

"CressMAN! There you are!"

Grace winced and stood to salute along with the other NCOs in the room. The officer entering was Colonel Jerry "Slim" Flannery. A short, heavy set former pilot who would have trouble as a payload these days let along fitting in a cockpit, the Colonel wore a sky blue scarf at all times and had perfected a large, graying walrus mustache that he claimed was in tribute to "the boys" who had come before him. Short cropped grey-and-blonde hair made his head seem wider than it actually was and he had probably been quite the catch... around the time of the first Gulf War. Grace had also gotten the word to never be left alone in a room with him. The current chaos seemed to be putting JAG complaints on the back burner, so while he wasn't dangerous? He was absolutely taking advantage to get handsy. Grace moved to parade rest while he stepped into her personal space after returning the salute. He only had 4 or 5 inches on her, which left his face uncomfortably close to hers.

"Sergeant, I'm glad you are HERE!"

Beyond his habit of cranking up the volume at the end of each sentence, the Colonel also managed to offend Grace's sense of smell. She had always had a gift of being able to sort different scents down to figuring out what spices were used in an apple pie at home by just the scent. The old fart smelled like.... Body odor, eggs (past their sell by date), Old Spice, and more than a whiff of tobacco. It made her nauseous. Which was NOT something that she wanted him to realize. He had enough pull here to make life miserable. His extremely obvious look at her from head to toe within range of putting her knee directly in his balls had her repeating that fact in her head.

"We have a, erm, very INTERESTING project coming down the LINE. I just want you to know that I have you in mind for a, erm, PROMINENT role working with me.... DIRECTLY."

Flannery's attitude was practically drooling... and suddenly Grace felt a nervous hole form in her stomach as she thought back to the rumors of the vaccine. "Uh.... thanks, sir. Its nice that you... thought of me?"

She couldn't keep the concerned tone out of her voice. Whatever his "project" was, she didn't have any desire to find out when he was looking at her like that. She realized that she was shying away from him as he leaned in, lowering his voice to seem conspiratorial. "Don't worry, Cressman. Whatever happens in the future? You'll have a unit you can be proud of!"

He clapped her on the shoulder and nodded to the rest of the room before walking out without another word. Grace checked the room and they looked as confused as she felt. "Um. Did that make any fuckin sense to any of you?"

Amid the shaking of heads Grace sighed and sat back down. She wondered How did someone like that get put in charge of a unit with actual work instead of digging latrines in the Arctic?

The low buzz of conversation returned to the room, except for one other Technical Sergeant who looked at the door with an uncomfortable look on her face. Grace caught her eyes and raised an eyebrow but the other woman shook her head minutely. She mouthed the word "Later," and looked back at her bulky laptop. Grace did the same. The next few hours contained nothing more eventful than waiting for a restroom to get sanitized by an embarrassed looking Guard private who actually was a man. Grace suspected that it was in direct response to the fire from this morning in town. By the time her workday ended the sun was low in the West.

The Tech Sergeant was waiting as the rest of the gaggle headed away. Her dark tan skin and the shape of her brown eyes hinted at least some asian ancestry while her figure was all long and lean. Grace was easily a foot shorter and refused to be intimidated by the simple poise that she carried herself with. Her name tag read "Montressor." "Be careful with Slim." Her voice was quiet and nearly monotone, her eyes tracked around restlessly, making sure that no one was close enough to hear. "He's an actual Ace pilot from back when he was allowed to fly fighters... even if his 5th kill was some drug runner in a Cessna Citation over the Gulf of Mexico. He spent some time working R and D before ending up as the XO for the tankers out of the base here. Pretty sure he was just that desperate to get back near something that flies. But he is in tight with every general that is likely to give any kind of a shit about you and he doesn't give a used apple about your wellbeing." She fixed flinty eyes on Grace. "If he wants to drag you somewhere? He has the pull to brush out the tracks." Montressor gave Grace a nod as if that settled the conversation and walked away.

Grace stood in the shadow of the trailer and pinched the bridge of her nose. You'd really think that there was a reason that the world had decided to shit on her lawn but she couldn't think of anything recently that would fit the karmic bill.

-o0o-

July 20th, 2020