Viral Misery | Book 3 | Revelations

by Watson, Thomas A.

  Trying not to grin, “It was, but I wanted some bacon and wasn’t allowed to cook it yet,” Joseph snorted.

  “How old were you?” Sarah laughed out.

  “Eight. I knew Mom and Dad were awake and if you turned the doorknob just right, it popped open. I tapped Mom to get her attention because it looked like they were wrestling. Mom let out a scream I’m sure was heard ten miles away.”

  Even Jason laughed as he sat back down. “Samantha does that with anyone. That’s why she pulled me further down the beach behind those trees,” he said.

  “Shit, then put deadbolts on your bedroom door,” Arthur advised. “To this day, I can’t see how Wendy moved that fast. One heartbeat she was right there with me, the next she was gone and the bathroom door slammed with a blood-curdling scream filling the room. I sat up really thinking she’d rolled off the bed because somehow or someway she’d been hurt. How? I don’t know because we weren’t doing anything extravagant. When I sat up and looked, there was Joseph at the side of the bed holding a package of bacon.” The entire hall roared with laughter.

  Glancing around the hall and raising his voice, “I would really appreciate it if no one teased Samantha about this. What little sex I have in my sex life is going to dry up for a while,” Jason informed them. “Damn, I just wanted her to know I don’t lie to her when I compliment her, and it turned into a fucking brawl.”

  Leaning over and patting Jason’s shoulder, “Been there and done that,” Arthur informed him. “Hate to tell you, but in a few more years you’ll have the same argument.”

  Clearing his throat, “Um, both of you have watched pornography with your wives?” Skannish asked.

  Very shocked, “Duh, yeah,” Arthur sang out. “Shit, Wendy can find some good movies.”

  Nodding, “Shit, I couldn’t find the site Samantha got the last ones from, and I looked for it,” Jason chuckled.

  Somewhat timid, “You do know pornography is vulgar,” Skannish told them.

  “Hey, I’m not talking about animals, BDSM and stuff. I’m talking about wild rolls between men and women!” Arthur shot back. “Oh, so Jason and I, with our wives alone, supported a fifteen billion dollar a year business? You have never, not even once, looked at pornography?” he challenged Skannish. Leaning back in his chair, Skannish’s mouth moved but no words came out.

  “Exactly. If it embarrasses you, then grow up. You’re an adult and can watch what you want. I hate to tell you, Skannish, but sex is part of life, a very fucking important part of life. Don’t spout that shit ‘it’s to be for procreation only’ because that’s what it is, shit,” Arthur popped off. “If someone wants to do that, fine. Shit, before I met Wendy, I was going to be a porn star. I’m not ashamed of shit I do.”

  With her arm around Samantha’s shoulders, Wendy led Samantha back into the dining hall. “Hey, I’ve told Arthur those bitches get degrees to do that shit,” Wendy said.

  In Arthur’s lap, “Shit!” Robin repeated very loud and very clear.

  Closing her eyes, “Oh, that was so on me,” Wendy groaned.

  “Robin’s said shit seven times that I know of, and the first was with me,” Arthur stated proudly. Then turned to Robin, “Don’t say it until you learn how to use it correctly,” he told her in a very gentle tone and Robin squealed and hugged him tightly. It was on the tip of his tongue to beg Robin to put on panties at the very least, but Arthur just gave up.

  Leading Samantha back to their chairs, “Thank you, babe, but that was on me,” Wendy told him to let everyone know she’d broken her own rule and wasn’t letting Arthur take up for her.

  Shifting Robin to his side, “I’m not Jason. I’ll chase your ass down to continue this fight until I win, and I will win it. I said, she learned that from me,” Arthur stated somewhat proudly.

  Sighing, Wendy turned to look at Arthur and saw Arthur wasn’t going to give in and this fight would last years. She smiled, “Okay, you’re right, but I still shouldn’t have said it.”

  “You used it correctly to convey meaning of a derogatory nature to stress the knowledge and training you believe others achieve at a higher institution that doesn’t exist,” Arthur told her.

  At the end of the table, Jo Ann and Sally groaned. “Can’t you just cuss?” they both moaned.

  Turning to the end of the table and looking at the twins, Arthur grinned. “The use of correct linguistics to express the meaning to be conveyed should be used appropriately at all times to let everyone recognize you have the intelligence to do so. Otherwise, your denotation may become vitiated.”

  The shocked look the twins returned made Arthur bust out laughing. “Did we piss him off?” Jo Ann whispered to Sally.

  “I don’t think so because he’s smiling,” Sally mumbled.

  In the middle of the table that Arthur was sitting at, Shawn nodded. “He conveyed his meaning very elegantly.”

  Smiling at Shawn, “Fuckin’ right, I did,” Arthur laughed, and the entire hall busted out laughing.

  Really wanting to ask Samantha if there were no hard feelings, Jason decided to play the safe card, ignore it and talk in private. Leaning over, looking at the map, “So, where are we heading?” he asked.

  Shrugging, “There’re a few farms and storage sites we can explore,” Arthur said, and Jason jumped to his feet stabbing a finger at the map.

  “Berryville!” he screamed.

  Having no idea what caused this, “Um, yeah, it’s like fifty miles away as the crow flies,” Arthur told him. “It’s a nice small town,” he added, in case his buddy liked the town.

  “Berryville, Arkansas!” Jason screamed with wide eyes staring at the map. Suddenly, Samantha groaned and rolled her eyes.

  Not taking his eyes off Jason, “Yeah, it’s okay. They did have a nice livestock auction down the road,” Arthur offered because it seemed Jason loved this town.

  “I thought it was near Little Rock!” Jason bellowed never taking his finger off the map.

  Shaking his head and easing Robin from his lap because it looked like Jason was about to stroke out. “No, it’s been right there since we moved here,” Arthur informed him, wondering why Jason thought Arkansas moved a small town from Little Rock. Taking a deep breath, “Um, what’s so special about Berryville? There’re other small towns and some of them had nice attractions,” Arthur offered, hoping to learn the reason Jason was freaking out.

  “Wilson Combat Arms is there!” Jason screamed with foam at the corners of his mouth.

  Glad to finally have a reason behind Jason’s excitement, “It’s not in the town, it’s outside of town to the south,” Arthur told him, and finally Jason’s eyes left the map and locked onto Arthur. For a brief second, Arthur wanted Jason to look back at the map. Only Wendy had ever looked at him like that, and it was very rarely she did so.

  “You’ve been there? Why didn’t you tell me?!” Jason cried out like Arthur had broken his favorite toy.

  “I haven’t been inside. I’m sorry but until I met you, I would’ve never spent that much on guns, but you’ve shown me the errors of my past. Real quality has a price and there’s a huge difference in craftsmanship quality and mass production quality,” Arthur offered, hoping Jason would stop looking at him like that.

  “We have to go there! Like now!” Jason screamed in a pant.

  Holding up both hands, “We will. I’ll take you there today. We’ll drop off the vaccine and head straight there,” Arthur offered, but it sounded like a plea.

  Panting hard and looking around with wide, wild eyes, “I have to get dressed,” Jason panted. “Oh my god, what am I going to wear?! Wilson Combat Arms!” he cried out. There wasn’t a fast shuffle, Jason sprinted to the door.

  “Is it me, or did that sound very pansy?” Samantha asked, and Arthur was glad she’d said it and not him.

  Taking a deep breath, “Jason, nobody’s there!” Arthur shouted. “Wendy and I drove past it last month and we’ve driven by there on most of our trips to Missouri!”

&n
bsp; “I can’t go there looking like shit!” Jason screamed from, upstairs in his room and it was very clearly heard. Not saying a word, Samantha leapt up and sprinted out to remind her husband; that’d sounded like shit she should say.

  “Shawn,” Arthur called out. “Get dressed and meet me at the vehicles. We’re taking three long trailers. If Jason wants to haul back the buildings, we’ll figure something out.”

  “Pops, one of those buildings was really big, like, acres big,” Shawn pointed out.

  Getting up, “If Jason won’t leave it, we’re bringing the damn thing back,” Arthur told him.

  For the first time, Wendy was having doubts about Arthur having a buddy. “Babe, are you joking?” she asked because it didn’t sound like it.

  “Nope. If Jason wants this place so bad, we’ll figure out a way to get it here,” Arthur told her and left with his mini-mes in hot pursuit.

  “Damn, Dad’s got a buddy,” Joseph laughed getting up. Liking the sound of that, Wendy let that thought go and got up as the ranch moved to start another day.

  Chapter Seven

  My gun cherry?

  It was just after 8 a.m. when Arthur handed over one vial to Chad. “Half a cc in the muscle,” Arthur told him again and Chad took the vial as though Arthur had just handed him the Holy Grail.

  “We have a nurse and a veterinarian,” Chad told him and the three with him looked at the vial with longing.

  Looking at the four in chemical suits and masks in the cool morning, Arthur thought on cold days that suit might not be so bad. “You picked the first?” Arthur asked as a car horn sounded behind him, again.

  Leaning to the side to look past Arthur at the line of trucks hauling trailers, a Stryker, an MRAP, with a gray Suburban in the lead that Arthur had gotten out of, “Yeah, I’m going to be the first,” Chad told him.

  “Dude, you’ll be fine. Skannish is ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive the vaccine is fine. If it isn’t, you’ll just get a water shot. But those numbers from that old prude means the shit is good. In six days, I’ll come back to draw a blood sample and by that evening, you’ll know if the others can take the shot,” Arthur told him as a car horn tooted and then someone laid on it.

  “They’re big boys and girls! You gave them the shit! Let’s go!” Jason screamed out the passenger window.

  “He sounds as excited as we are,” Chad laughed behind his gas mask.

  Shaking his head, “I’m beginning to think he has you beat,” Arthur sighed as the horn sounded again.

  “God damn it, you gave it to them, I can see one holding it! Let’s go!” Jason bellowed and Arthur turned around to see Jason leaning out the window with binoculars. Behind the Suburban in the MRAP with Wendy, Samantha slid out of the passenger seat to the floorboard, trying to hide.

  “If you don’t mind, what the hell is he so excited about?” Chad asked. “Sorry to ask, but if it’s that good, after we’re vaccinated, we may want to do it.”

  Shaking his head, “Sorry, but I just can’t explain it,” Arthur sighed, and the four chuckled as the horn started honking in steady random beeps. “I’ll see you in six days. I don’t know if I’m bringing Jason again.”

  “Arthur, that’s Morse Code,” Chad told him.

  Nodding, “I know, he’s saying, ‘move your ass’, break, ‘we are about to leave without you’,” Arthur said, then gave a wave as he sighed and headed back to the caravan.

  “About fucking time!” Jason shouted, then started bouncing around in the seat. “YEEESssss!”

  When Arthur climbed in, his mini-mes, Shawn, Kirk, and now Sheila, were in the middle row seats and Jason’s mini-mes, Kyle and Cody, were in the third-row seat, with the dogs in the cargo area. All the mini-mes were laughing at Jason.

  Not even calling out on the radio, Arthur just drove off. He didn’t understand why Jason was acting crazy. In July, they’d emptied four gun stores and in August, emptied two military armories. Jason hadn’t acted like this then. Granted, he’d been giddy, but so was Arthur.

  Getting comfortable in his seat, “Okay, Jason,” Arthur called out and Jason stopped cheering and bouncing. “What’s so special? We’ve gotten guns before. Yes, I know they’re Wilsons but come on, why are you so ecstatic?”

  “Yes, Wilson makes great guns. But they’re special to me because that’s what I lost my cherry to,” Jason explained.

  Scooting towards his door and turning to Jason, “Your what?!” Arthur cried out. Suddenly, he didn’t want to know what Jason did with his Wilson guns.

  “My gun cherry,” Jason said slowly. “It takes a special gun and when you grab it, you know. It’s part of you and where you aim is right where the bullet hits. It’s like magic. I know there’re other custom manufacturers, but I lost my cherry to a Wilson. The first is always the most special.” Thinking something didn’t sound right, Arthur replayed what Jason had said and scooted back to the center of his seat. Arthur had shot tens of thousands of rounds and he’d never felt what Jason just described.

  “For some it takes years and sadly, others who shoot don’t lose their cherry. Most of the time I’ll admit the gun is customized, but even guns that’re mass-produced will turn out a fine work of art where all the pieces align perfectly, like a master gunsmith assembled the gun. That’s what LL lost his cherry to, a Browning,” Jason said.

  Suddenly realizing he still had his gun cherry, for some reason Arthur felt cheated and used. He’d shot hundreds of guns and many he’d built himself, but they’d never taken his cherry, they’d just used him. “Okay,” Arthur said, not liking his new discovery. “Why in the hell did you think Wilson was near Little Rock?”

  “Because they’re one of the top custom gun works in the world. Shit, I never expected them to be in the middle of fucking nowhere!” Jason cried out.

  Just hearing it, Arthur could find the logic in that. “Okay, then why aren’t all your guns Wilsons?” he asked.

  With a very long sigh, “Because I spent nearly sixty grand on those damn PNVG-18 goggles,” Jason moaned. “I knew any day my wife was going to find out,” he stated and grabbed his crotch, “and remove these fuckers from my body. I got our Wilson pistols because during normal life, your pistol will serve as your primary means of defense and that was the most probable scenario. But if something bad happened and you get on a long gun, your pistol’s function is to be a backup if your long gun goes down. If you ever have to go to a secondary weapon from a long gun, your day has gone to shit. So I figured that’s where we needed the best; our pistols. Samantha and I both have two Wilson pistols. I bought her one for concealed carry but she whined it was bulky, so I took her to Lyles and she picked out an XD slim. Before you ask, no, I didn’t sell the first Wilson I’d bought for her, she still uses it. I felt then and I feel now that selling that gun would be like someone giving you a piece of the Ark of the Covenant and you pawning it for material gain.” Now Arthur was feeling cheated because he still had his cherry and didn’t have a Wilson, as Jason continued.

  “I built all of our AR-15s and I’m happy with them. But I knew if we needed to go long I wanted the best, so that’s why Samantha and I both have Wilson AR-10s. That’s what Samantha lost her gun cherry on, her AR-10. After we sighted-in her gun, I set a coke bottle down eight hundred yards away and she nailed it on the first shot.”

  Finally hearing the price of the night vision from Jason, “Hold up, you said you spent forty grand on those quad tubes,” Arthur pointed out.

  “Duh, Samantha was close!” Jason cried out. “I didn’t lie because I only had forty-two thousand left to pay off the credit card I’d bought them on when the world died. I did get them at a discount, six grand off the retail price,” he stated proudly. “Was it a mistake? In my eyes, no. That wide field of vision at night saved our asses seven times that I can remember, just off the top of my head. One was an ambush in Birmingham. I might’ve spotted them with a monocular, but I spotted their asses from two hundred yards away and caught sight of them at
the corner of my field of vision.”

  Having used both, Arthur had to agree the quads were in a world of their own. But he knew without a doubt, if the world hadn’t succumbed to viral misery, he never would’ve even picked up a pair after seeing the price tag.

  “Arthur,” Jason said in a normal voice. “That Wilson I shot and bought that day? I tried to break it. Remember a few years back when the last ammo scare happened and there was a huge glut on the market like all the other scares?” Jason asked and Arthur nodded. He’d sold some of the ammo he’d made.

  “I bought ten thousand rounds and made a commitment, I was going to shoot a thousand rounds a day through my 1911 for five days,” Jason told him. “Holy fuck, I never knew your finger and forearm could get so tired from squeezing a trigger. But, I had more ammo malfunctions from bad primers than I did gun malfunctions. Then for the next week I tried burying it in sand one day, another in mud, next in water and so on, then each day shot five hundred rounds. The fucking gun just kept right on going. Fuck the Energizer Bunny in the ass! My Wilson just kept going and going and going. After two weeks, I did look at my Wilson and it looked like shit. The bluing was marred and scratched. It was coated in burnt powder, but it still functioned flawlessly. I wrote Walt, the executive who’d come down and showed off the gun. Well, I wrote him and sent pictures and video of what I’d done trying to break my Wilson and told him my Wilson had just laughed. Walt asked me to send the gun to them and they would rework it free of charge if they could use the pictures and my statement. I said, ‘hell yeah’. That’s why I know they’re in Berryville, Arkansas. Two weeks later, my gun came back and it looked like it was brand new! Samantha thought they’d sent me a new one, but I showed her the serial number was the same.”

  “So, all of their guns are this good?” Arthur asked now intrigued.

  “Dude, they sell an AR they guarantee will hit any target at one thousand yards!” Jason cried out. “Yeah, a little 5.56 at that range is only a paper puncher, but you can hit. I’ve shot several and loved each one, but after my foray into night vision, I stuck with building our AR-15s. I do have one H&K AR and I love it. I found it in a pawn shop and it was a steal. It had less than a thousand rounds through it and they wanted six hundred dollars for a three-thousand-dollar gun. If they would’ve had more, I would’ve bought all of them on the spot.” Even Arthur agreed with a nod, he would’ve also.