VY Ch. 00-03

Braedon then began the wait, sitting on the couch in the dark until finally, the Ring doorbell flashed an alert on his phone that motion was detected in front of the house. He then stood up from the couch and before he could get to the door, he saw his alarm panel indicate EMS had activated a disarm event. He heard a person knock on the door three times, then identify themselves as he had been told to expect. Then noises, as they picked the deadbolt and a click as the bolt disengaged.

As the door opened, three female agents appeared, each in what appeared to be hazmat suits. Braedon put his finger up to his lips to indicate that he would prefer the three agents to keep their voices low. "Our child is still sleeping in the room", he whispered. Braedon then stepped through the doorway into the porch, where he now saw that they had extended a temporary plastic tunnel shelter from the transport vehicle to where the storm door used to be. The agents indicated for Braedon to proceed to the transport with two of the female agents. Once the two agents and Braedon boarded the transport, the third agent walked back and pressed a button on a control panel that auto retracted the plastic tunnel.

As the transport drove away, another female agent pulled into the driveway and walked up to the house to initiate contact with Braedon's wife. Having been woken by the notification on her phone by the alarm system being turned off, and then seeing the text message her husband sent earlier, she got dressed and came down the stairs.

As she approached the landing, she heard a knock at the door and saw the alarm system was still disarmed, which normally wouldn't be the case if Braedon had gone to work, like any other day. She pulled the curtain back and observed a woman dressed in a suit standing at the door. She opened it and welcomed the agent to come in and sit at the dining room table, where they discussed the situation.

Meanwhile, Braedon sat on a bench seat on the transport surrounded by a plastic sheet intended to isolate him from the other male passengers, also being moved to quarantine. He, along with all the other males, had been provided with an informational packet to read while en route to quarantine. The packet covered, amongst other things, why he was being quarantined, the city in which he would reside, and what to expect when he arrived at in-processing.

At the end of the packet was a non-disclosure agreement and a document stating that he agreed that he understood he was to follow all instructions given to him by ICPD personnel, their representatives, and any other contractors bearing ICPD identification. Realizing he had little to no choice in the matter, Braedon signed both documents and waited as the remainder of the males were picked up and the transport approached the designated quarantine facility.

Not knowing who else to talk to, Braedon's wife called her mother to tell her the news. Of course, as expected, she burst into tears within seconds of telling her mom what happened. Her mom told her to come over, and she'd make a pot of coffee so they could talk while the baby slept in the other room. Gingerly, she moved the baby into the car seat, amazingly without her waking for more than a few seconds, and drove to her parents' house. It was a short drive thankfully and her mom was waiting by the front door when she arrived.

As soon as she entered her mom's house and set the baby down, she immediately broke into tears, crying on her mom's shoulder.

"I just don't get it. Why did the government have to call Braedon only hours before he had to leave? I don't even know if we'll ever see him again and all they tell me is that I need to be patient! It's not fair! I mean, I'm so glad that he didn't die from the outbreak because all I hear on the radio and TV is about millions of more men dying every day. But our child needs a father, I need my husband and how am I supposed to keep the house without his income? I'm so scared, mom!"

Savannah's younger brother, having heard the commotion, came down the stairs to find his sister sobbing. "Dad, what happened?" her brother Homer Thomas asked his dad, who was resting in the recliner.

"The Feds just took Braedon without notice this morning. All she was told is that it's because Braedon, like you and I, are of the small handful of men still alive."

"So does that mean we're next to be taken, dad?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Tommy. We just have to wait and see for now."

Her mom just listened as her daughter got everything off her chest, refilling her coffee and doing her best to console her daughter, and reassured her that everything would turn out just fine. Of course, her mom had no way of knowing how things would turn out or if she or her daughter would ever see Braedon again or if he would remain in complete isolation, a last remnant of a doomed species. All they could do was keep their hopes up and pray that he would come back to them.

While they were giving each other another hug, the house phone started to ring. Her mom stood up and walked over to answer the phone. Picking up the receiver, it was less than a minute before her mom's jaw dropped, and her face went white as a ghost. Both mom and daughter knew what was about to happen... Braedon, Damian and Homer Thomas were all being quarantined.

"Damian, come get the phone, it's for you", her mom Beverly called out to her husband resting in the living room recliner. Damian talked to the agent on the phone and realized when he glanced over at Beverly, she already knew exactly what was happening. He told the agent he understood and had no questions for now.

A half-hour later, the transport pulled up in front of the house and the same plastic tunnel extended to the front door. Three agents walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. Beverly and Savannah both gave Damian and Homer Thomas one last hug before they boarded the transport and left, possibly for the rest of their lives. Braedon, his father-in-law and Savannah's brother were all gone, leaving mom and daughter to pick up the pieces.

Chapter 2: Hell Week

Once the transport Braedon was on picked up its final passenger, the shutters that had been open, to illuminate the inside of the vehicle, were then closed and soft blue lighting came on under the bench seating and on the ceiling running down the length of the aisle between seats. Two of the agents sitting at the front stood up, facing the male passengers to provide instructions on the next stage of the journey. In a soothing voice, one agent spoke, while the other translated into sign language:

"First off, your government would like to thank you for your cooperation and understanding today. Now that all passengers have boarded, we are taking a secure route to your designated quarantine facility. We have closed the window shades for your privacy as well as for your protection. We ask that you remain seated until we reach our destination and we come to a complete stop.

"When we arrive at the facility, the window shades will be opened again. Facility personnel will stand outside the transport door, and we will begin calling names. When you hear your name called, please stand so that one of us can escort you to the facility staff member outside. Please do not stand until your name is called. The smoother this process goes, the sooner you will have an opportunity to contact your family.

"Are there any questions before we arrive at the facility? ...No? Alright, thank you."

After the other agent finished signing, both agents sat back down, and the transport continued along its secure route with its secret passenger list. With nothing to read or listen to and the awkwardness of talking with strangers in plastic bubbles, the ride seemed to last forever. If only they had allowed him to keep his phone, or at least his watch, he would know better how time was passing. Now, instead, he had the silence inside the transport and the billion voices in his mind telling him he should try to escape, while others told him to just do as he was told and yet others contemplated conspiracy theory on top of conspiracy theory, to explain this bizarre day.

Braedon fully expected that every single male passenger was going through the same torment, self-inflicting madness upon themselves as their minds raced to figure out what was happening and what each of their fates would be. Even if they survived the VYrus outbreak through the week, who could say what the government had planned for them? Would they simply collect DNA samples from them and then isolate them until they die from VYrus? Perhaps they wouldn't even give them the chance to become infected and they'd simply dispose of their bodies after they got what they needed from them. What if they already had acquired what they required, and they were already headed to their graves?

Without warning, Braedon was launched forward as he heard a maddening scream from behind him. As his head slammed into the steel pole running up from the floor, agents from the front of the bus jumped into action, unholstered their sidearms to subdue the male passenger. Immediately, Braedon felt a massive jolt of pain go through his brain as he made contact and his vision went double. Stumbling around in pain, dizzy, and bleeding from his wound, Braedon struggled to avoid getting hit again. This was futile though, since the last thing he was aware of was a large solid object coming down on his back as everything went black.

Meanwhile, the father-in-law, as fortunate as he could be, given the circumstances, had an uneventful ride to his destination. As it turned out, most of the other men riding with him either didn't speak English very well or seemed to be more interested in irritating the agents on the transport, peppering them with question after question. Having become accustomed to a very noisy extended family, he quickly tuned out the chatter and decided it was best if he took a nap. It could well turn into an endless day, and he'd be thankful to feel rested.

"Mother Goose, this is Milk Man 6. Copy..."

"This is Mother Goose, go Milk Man 6. Copy..."

"Mother Goose, we have a cracked egg in our carton. Copy..."

"Milk Man 6, is the egg white still viable? Copy..."

"Mother Goose, confirming egg white is viable. Egg will be sunny side upon arrival. Copy..."

"Confirming Milk Man 6, egg white is viable. Cracked egg will be handled with care. Copy..."

The lead female agent on the transport put down the radio and stood watch as the female agent trained as an EMT tended to Braedon's head wound and monitored his vitals. Things had calmed down considerably after the male that lost control was neutralized with a dart filled with a powerful paralytic agent. After seeing such a large man, who looked to be over 300 pounds of muscle, drop like a sack of potatoes in seconds, no one else gave escape a second thought. On a positive note, Braedon was the only one who managed to get some sleep during the remainder of the trip, well aside from the sack of potatoes.

About an hour later, Milk Man 6 rolled up to the gate of the quarantine facility. After the lead agent showed her badge to the camera outside, the gates opened, and traffic lane lights illuminated the pavement, indicating the path to take. As Milk Man 6 approached the passenger unloading bay, a pair of medics with a stretcher and triage backpack walked up to the deck.

Once Milk Man 6 came to a stop, the window slats were opened and the agent tending to Braedon assisted the medics in extracting Braedon from the transport vehicle and onto the stretcher. As the medics moved the still-unconscious Braedon via stretcher into the building, a team of personnel walked over to the transport, and one by one, the other men were escorted into the building as well.

Finally, the lead agent on the transport and the EMT drew a blood sample from the tranquilized man and analyzed it on a portable scanner. Three minutes later, the result indicated on the screen "POSITIVE FOR VYRUS ANTIBODIES". The lead agent dismissed the other two agents from the transport and radioed for biohazard disposal. The man would never be seen or heard from again and they would send his family a pre-formatted letter informing them he succumbed to the ravages of VYrus.

Day 2:

The next day, Braedon woke up groggy, starving, and with a dull pounding in his head. Looking around, he saw concrete walls covered in clear plastic. When he tried to roll onto his side to get more comfortable, he found he couldn't move his arms or legs. With the thick blanket covering him up to his chest, he could not see what held him. Determined to get free, Braedon began to gradually drag the blanket down until he finally saw the bonds holding his wrists to the bed rails.

Testing the bonds, he realized that they had left enough slack for him to tuck his thumb into his palm and pull part of his hand through the cuff. The cuffs were still too tight to get out of though, and his pudgy hand was getting stuck. Determined to get loose, Braedon rotated and pulled on his wrist just enough to force the bones to dislodge, which had the effect of narrowing the flesh of his palm enough to squeeze past the opening of the cuff.

A little more careful tugging through the cuff and his hand slid out the other end. Flexing the muscles in his forearm made the wrist snap itself back into place. He wasted no time removing the cuff from his other wrist, followed by his ankle cuffs.

Braedon was thankful that his head was pounding enough to drown out the pain from his hand that was red and swollen from freeing the first wrist. He still didn't have a plan for what he was going to do or where to go, since there was a solid metal door with a safety glass window blocking his exit. As he swung his feet off the side of the bed, he heard the door click and a short, slender female with tight curled blonde hair in a gray doctor's coat stepped inside.

"I see you're awake finally, Mr. Owens. I'm Dr. Wrenstich. What is the last thing you remember?"

Braedon told her the last thing he recalled was sitting on the transport and the blinds of the windows shut and lights turned on inside the vehicle.

"I see. Well, it appears that you may have some memory loss from the head injury you sustained. We've already taken the liberty of ordering a head CT and X-rays of your cervical and thoracic spine and there was no evidence of any permanent damage. As for your restraints..."

Dr. Wrenstich gave Braedon a slightly annoyed look. "I don't think they will be necessary since you've already removed them. Though it looks like your wrist and hand may have been injured at some point after you were admitted here. I'll order an X-ray of your hand and prescribe you an anti-inflammatory to take down the swelling. We'll check in on you tomorrow and if there are no additional issues, you will continue through in-processing with your group."

The doctor handed Braedon his discharge paperwork and instructed him to follow the navigation markers. Confused, he stood up, feeling a bit wobbly on his feet, and walked to the door the doctor had left open. Standing at the doorway, he heard the wristband that had been placed on his left wrist chime twice and then a chasing light pattern appeared on the hallway floor.

Braedon figured this was likely what the doctor was referring to and followed the lights down the hall. It seemed this wristband didn't just track location and give directions, as he heard a sensual sounding, pleasant feminine voice on the wristband announcing where to turn and how far till intake processing.

He couldn't quite help but become aroused the more he heard the woman's voice as he approached the destination. By the time he arrived at intake processing, he was definitely walking with a third leg and, despite his best attempts, it wouldn't stay tucked out of sight. "Go figure! One of a small percentage of men still alive and the first impression I'm going to give is that I've got a one-track mind down at the bottom of my hospital gown. Oh well, I guess bottoms up!" As he pushed the door open and walked in, stares from the female staff greeted him, and the group of men processing in shook their heads like they knew this wouldn't go well for Braedon.

A medical receptionist instructed Braedon to step forward and motioned for him to extend out his hand so she could scan his wristband. When he passed the wristband across the counter, it flashed green-blue-red-blue-green-green-green. The technician then directed Braedon to walk through a security portal which turned on the chasing lights tied to the location tracking on his wristband. The next stop was a doctor in a gray coat.

Reading the charting for Braedon, she asked him to lower his pants and underwear, to which Braedon responded he wasn't wearing any. At this, the doctor turned her head and saw he was in a hospital gown and said, "Ah yes! That's right, you are the one they took down to the infirmary after that minor scuffle on the ride over here. Let's have a look-see, and make sure you don't have any groin injuries or abnormalities."

As her eyes dropped from Braedon's face to focus on the reproductive examination, she noticed what could be a protrusion. Figuring he's just a little excited from everything that's happened on his first day here, it's likely a minor erection. Her assumption was quickly proven invalid when she reached with her gloved hand inside his gown and, instead of getting a handful of testicles, a very large and very long appendage blocked access to the testicle sack. Using her other hand to lift his manhood up and out of the way, the sheer massive size and even the weight of the erection shocked her.

"Well, your wife must be the luckiest woman in the world for having all this to herself!" to which Braedon couldn't help but turn beet red. The doctor continued with the exam, asking Braedon to turn his head and cough, then the other way and cough. "Okay, everything seems in order, and you appear to be in excellent health. I'm done with your examination now, so you can continue to the next station." Before removing her hand, though, she smiled at him and gave him a single quick tug down his entire length. "This is definitely a detail I leave out when I tell my wife what happened here," Braedon thought to himself.

Continuing on to the next station indicated by the chasing lights, Braedon couldn't get the image of the doctor smirking up at him as she copped a feel. This wasn't helping him to calm down at all, and when he approached the next doctor, he couldn't help but suspect the previous doctor had told the next doctor in line what to expect. After all, with the grin on the doctor's face going practically ear to ear, she had to know.

"Hello, Mr. Owens! Are we having a splendid morning or what today?! First the complimentary continental breakfast and now you get to see your favorite medical professional, your dental hygienist! If you could just take a seat, this will be about 10 minutes of bliss while I complete your dental cleaning."

Chuckling and smiling, Braedon couldn't ignore the irony and how mistaken he and the dentist were, but he wasn't going to complain. After all, as far as he was concerned, he had been a perfect gentleman the whole time and had nothing to weigh on his conscience.

After the dental cleaning, something Braedon had never found pleasant in the past, the remainder of the testing for the week continued to get more exhaustive and definitely not fun in the slightest. One good thing was that being so worn out from the grueling schedule of testing that he didn't have another growth spurt, at least not while in the staff's presence. His dreams were a completely different matter, with the kinky doctor being still vivid in his thoughts.