Quaranteam - North West Ch. 01-04

The drive down to Portland from the homestead outside Jewell took a bit over an hour and a half on a good day with moderate traffic. It only took us an hour, in the middle of the day. I drove my truck, the cover on over the bed, and Leo rode with Erica in her car. The highways were practically empty, and for a while the drive almost felt like just a beautiful day out - other than the thick sweater I was wearing, and the work gloves I'd duct taped to the cuffs. I also had a pair of bandanas hung around my neck, ski goggles sitting on the passenger seat, and the hood of my sweater pulled up.

It was the middle of a hot spring and I was sweating my ass off in my own truck just in case of death by viral infection. Even in the last couple of weeks, all the messaging online from the Government about what to do for safety felt like it had been conflicting with itself constantly, and when Leo and Erica tried to do more research they couldn't even figure out which politician or government body to listen to, let alone find something usefuland convincing. So we went all out.

Driving through the suburbs was a bit of an experience. One neighbourhood would be completely desolate, not a single person outside and everything locked up tight. The next would be full of people outside on the street, walking dogs and kids running around playing. Most of them had those medical masks on, but it looked like people were out on summer vacation or something. The neighbourhood after that was mostly shut down like the first, but one of the houses easily had thirty vehicles parked around it and was hosting some sort of party going on in the front and back yard.

Somehow, despite the world feeling so alien, I still found driving through the city even weirder. Getting into the urban centre where Erica had a small apartment near the Tattoo Parlor was like we'd hit the end of the world. Even more than in the suburbs, the near complete lack of people was shocking. We could go entire city blocks without seeing another car, and then suddenly we'd come across a food delivery driver peddling down the middle of the city street on a bike. The only other motorized vehicles I saw were one dude on an electric scooter having the time of his life, and ambulances speeding down the streets with their lights running. They didn't even bother with the sirens.

Crackle, crackle. "Hey, Harrison? You read me? Over."

I picked up my handheld radio and pressed the button. "Yeah, I read you, Leo. Over."

"So we need to take a detour. There's a bunch of stuff online about this Autonomous Zone thing. Protestors in the middle of the city. We're going to avoid it. Over."

"Yeah, sounds good. I'll follow. Over and out."

I shook my head. The protests had started about a week ago. Halfway across the country, a man had been shot by police - investigations were ongoing, but no one looked good in the situation. Not the cops, not the man, not even the bystanders who had filmed the whole thing instead of intervening. It was a shitshow all around, and it had sparked protests that I could only assume were fueled by people feeling so trapped in their own lives. Portland, ever a liberal centre of activism, had been a hotbed every night. Vigils and marches every afternoon and evening. Then the riots started at night.

We drove down a couple of streets that looked like we'd left the United States behind and entered a foreign warzone. I'd seen streets in Kabul during my deployment that had looked similar; the only thing missing from the burned-out cars, graffiti and general detritus were bullet scars on the walls. Windows that weren't boarded over were smashed. Storefronts were burnt out, looted, or both.

It took us an extra twenty minutes to drive all the way around the 'autonomous zone.' By the time we pulled up into the alley behind Erica's apartment building, I was feeling sick to my stomach. A pandemic. Riots. What was next, a natural disaster? I'd seen some of the world - not a lot, but enough. Some of the best and worst places. We were supposed to be better than this.

Taking the back stairwell was part of the plan. We didn't want to draw any attention from people - for all that Portland was that liberal bed of activism I'd just been thinking about, it was also still an urban centre plagued by theft, crime and people trying to take advantage of each other. With no one on the streets, I'd suggested that pulling up out front made us more of a target to people looking to cause trouble, or attracting the attention of overzealous police.

I pulled my truck in next to Erica's car and hopped out. "Alright, make sure you lock up," I said.

"Harri, please," Erica said, sliding down her own ski goggles over her eyes. We were all bundled up now, with multiple face coverings each. "I've lived in the city about eight times longer than you ever did. I know how to handle myself."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "I'm just a little anxious."

"It's fine, dude," Leo said. "Let's just get this done."

Erica let us into the building, keying in through a back door, and up through the stairwell. We didn't see anyone on the way up, and she led us through the halls to her apartment. As she let us in, one of her neighbours opened their door and stuck their head out.

"Erica? Dear, is that you?" It was a woman, maybe in her fifties.

"Hey, Dianne," Erica said. "It's me. I'm just here to pick up some things, and I brought my brother and his roommate to help out."

Dianne stepped fully out of her apartment. She was dressed comfortably and had her silvering blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Most notably, she wasn't wearing a mask or any other sort of personal protection. "It's so nice to see you, Erica!" she said. "It's been quiet up here the last few weeks. I have to say, I never thought I'd actually miss your early morning banging around, but I do."

"Ah, Dianne," Erica said, holding up her hands. She was wearing rubber gloves, duct taped at the wrists to her sweater just like my work gloves were. "We really shouldn't get any closer than this."

"Oh, dear, it'sfine," Dianna said. "I've been cooped up in the apartment for a week now, the only person who comes over is Mr Jones from 5C for coffee every few days. I'm sure you've been just as safe, living out of the city."

"No, really Dianne," Erica said. "I don't mean to be rude, but we're only here to get some of my things and go. And I know Mr Jones is probably lonely up there, but it's not safe for you two to get together for coffee. You should really just skype each other or something."

"Oh, I already have to do that Zoomy thing to see my grandkids," Dianna scoffed. "But fine, fine. It's good to see you, dear. Try not to take things too seriously, it won't be good for your health."

From inside Erica's apartment, I couldn't help but shake my head.

"Dianne, maybe you need to take thingsmore seriously," Erica said. "I'd hate if anything happened to you, but more importantly I'd hate for your grandkids to never get to see you again if you got sick."

"Well, I guess..." Dianne trailed off.

"Goodbye, Dianne. It was nice seeing you," Erica said in that tone of voice that was just shy of 'politely fuck off,' then followed Leo and I into her apartment and shut the door.

"God, that woman," Erica said. She peeled down the pair of gaiters she was wearing over her face. The top layer was a winter covering Leo and I usually used in the middle of winter when we were snowmobiling, and the second was a much thinner one we used in the summer when ATVing. "We should be good in here, no one's come in since I left."

I peeled down my bandanas and sighed. "I'm sure she's nice, but that lady needs a reality check."

"I just hope she isn't someone else's reality check," Erica said. "Alright. I'm going to start in the bedroom. Leo, can you go through the living room and grab anything you think we might want in terms of DVDs and stuff? And Harrison, do you mind doing a check-over of the kitchen? I'm pretty sure I got rid of all the immediate perishables before I came down, but I might have missed some things that could've gone for a couple weeks."

We split up and went to work. I cleaned out a few old condiments that Erica had missed and collected some canned and boxed food that would travel easily, along with some of the more speciality cooking equipment Erica had made of point of mentioning. I wasn't sure what an 'air fryer' did, but she made it sound like it was a gift from God, so I was willing to pack it up.

"All done in the kitchen," I said, standing in the doorway to Erica's bedroom.

She was rummaging in her closet. Her bed was covered in clothes and a couple of pieces of luggage, and everything looked like a mess. "OK, hold on," she said, then she reappeared and dumped what looked like an entire department store's worth of bras out onto the bed. "Can you start packing this stuff up? Don't worry about folding or sorting it, I'll fix it all once we're back at your place. Then I can grab everything I need from the washroom and we'll be done."

"Sure," I said, and we squeezed past each other so she could duck into the washroom. Once she was gone, I just chuckled and shook my head at the mess she'd already made. "I don't think this is all going to fit in these bags."

I got to work, and soon three of the four pieces of luggage were stuffed full. That's when I made it to the pile of bras. I glanced out the door, and quickly picked up a fancy looking one and checked the tag. "Damn, Erica," I chuckled. It was obvious she was a busty girl, but 36E? I wouldn't have guessed.

Then again, I wasn't exactly a bra aficionado. I wouldn't even know if I'd seen D's or E's or what, the sizing just sort of confused me enough that I couldn't care to look into it any further.

I carefully began packing her daintier things into a bag, and below the bras was a pile of panties - and only a few of them seemed like they were designed for comfort and not show. There were strings, there was lace. I held a particular red number and shook my head again, trying to do my best not to imagine Erica wearing it and failing. I shoved it into the bag with the rest.

"Incoming," Erica said, bustling back into the room with her arms full of canisters and bottles and all sorts of things from the bathroom. She dumped it all on top of the panties in the bag. "Usually I'd be a lot more organized with this," she sighed. "But I just feel... being in the city feels kinda gross right now."

"Mmm, I feel it too," I said. I picked up the last handful of her underwear and put them on top of the cosmetics stuff.

"Oh my God," Erica said, grabbing the bag from me. "I can't believe- God, this is embarrassing." She was grinning and her cheeks had heated up as she quickly zipped up the luggage and turned to me. "I didn't realize you'd workthat fast."

"Hey, I've seen ladies' underwear before," I laughed. "It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, but you haven't seenmy underwear," she chuckled along with me. "At least you saw the nice stuff. I left most of it here when I came down - wasn't exactly thinking about showing off the goods, y'know?"

"Hey, anytime you want to show off, you just let me know," I laughed. "I tried not to pry, but some of them looked pretty hot."

"Oh, my God," she said, facepalming her embarrassment. Then her smile turned teasing. "Then again, we could always play you show me yours, I'll show you mine. I'm sure the girls would be happy for some more freedom around the house." She squished her upper arms together to pop out her chest a bit under her sweater.

Now it was my turn to smirk and blush a little. I was just starting to try and figure out what to say when Leo came in from the front area of the apartment. "Think I'm about done up here," he said. "Anything else, sis?"

Erica snickered and punched me in the arm. "That's probably it. I was just teasing Harrison about feelin' up my panties though."

"Dude!" Leo said.

"Oh, come on," I said. "You know I wouldn't."

"Still..." Leo trailed off. "Whatever. Just leave my sister's granny panties alone."

"You think I wear granny panties?" Erica said, then turned back to the bag and started unzipping it. "Well, let me just show you some oftheeeese..."

"Nope, no, nada, nyet!" Leo said, covering his eyes with both hands and turning out of the room. "I donot need to know. Too much information for me!"

Erica snorted and shook her head, re-zipping the bag. She winked at me and gave me another friendly punch on the arm. "Thanks again for helping with all of this, Harrison."

"No problem at all, E," I assured her.

"No, no," she said. "Seriously. Thank you. You guys didn't need to come out here - it feels sort of silly to say, but you're technically risking your lives for me right now."

"Well, chivalry ain't dead yet, I guess," I said.

"I guess not," she laughed. She leaned in and kissed my cheek. "It's nice. Just don't go making a habit of it, I don't need some White Knight saviour act out of youor my brother."

"Deal," I said.

We got everything out into the front hallway of the apartment, and it ended up being more than we could hope to carry down in one trip. The end result was that we made the first trip down, started loading everything into the bed of the pickup, and while Leo and Erica went back up for another load I stayed down with the vehicles.

The thing about inner cities, we'd all learned quickly when we originally moved in, was that you took a risk when you left things in your car. Well, if youhad a car to begin with, but if you did and people could see in then it was likely your shit was going to get stolen.

So there I was, sitting on the open back gate of my pickup with double bandanas over the bottom half of my face and ski goggles over the top, when two men rounded a corner further down the wide back alley and stopped.

They looked at me and the cars.

I looked at them.

One of them was wearing a medical mask, while the other had a knit wool balaclava on with nothing but his eyes showing. I'd never really considered it before, what with us living out in the woods away from most people, but at that moment I realized how simple it must be to do crime wheneveryone was expected to wear masks.

I watched them.

They eyed up the vehicles.

I stood up. They watched me do it. I slammed the gate of my truck shut. They watched me do it. I walked around to the passenger door of the truck cab, pulled out the hard case I had stowed under the seat, grabbed my Dad's old Colt 1911 and slid a magazine home.

The men kept their eyes on me, not batting an eye even though I was now holding a loaded firearm.

I leaned against the back of my truck and watched them right back.

Eventually, Leo and Erica came back down and I didn't mention the men or the pistol, which I tucked onto the passenger seat of my truck while we were moving things around. I left the door open so that I could keep easy access.

Erica and Leo went up for one last load, and I entered another long staring match with the two men. They hadn't moved and were about fifty yards away so I couldn't tell if they were talking to each other. I swear I must have been sweating bullets under my sweater and gloves and various masks. I don't know if my adrenaline had spiked like this since seeing combat while deployed. Not even the grocery store parking lot showdown a few weeks ago had been like this.

Finally, Erica and Leo came down with the last load, we got everything stowed away, and got back into our vehicles. I took a moment to unload and re-stow my firearm, and as Erica and Leo pulled away in her car I watched as the two men came up the alley and entered Erica's apartment building through the door we had been using.

Maybe they had just been waiting to use the door, playing it safe with us. Or maybe it was something else. I wouldn't ever know.

***---***---***

It took three days for us to start feeling... safe wasn't the right word. 'Less apprehensive' is where I ended up landing. Coming back from the city had been as smooth as driving out, but once we were home we all had this feeling of being dirty. It felt silly even at the time, but we ended up hosing each other off outside with the garden hose before heading in to take some long, hot showers. Was that ineffective? Probably. Did it make us feel better? Maybe, a little.

When none of us were showing any symptoms of getting sick by the third night back, we all decided to crash and start a new show together on Netflix that night after dinner. I ended up in the living room first and was starting to scroll through the menus to find something we might like when Erica came down the stairs in her own comfy clothes. She was wearing baggy, low-riding sweatpants and a black tank top that I very quickly realized was bouncing way more than usual with each of her steps down the stairs.

Erica walked over to the TV sitting area and flopped down onto the couch across from me, absentmindedly reaching up and tying her hair back into a loose and messy bun. "What?" she asked me when she realized I was staring at her.

"Nothing," I said. "You just... you look good. Like that."

She rolled her eyes. "It's just makeup, Harrison."

What she meant was she wasn't wearing any. For the first time ever, even including the month that she'd already been staying with us, I was seeing Erica without makeup on. It was sort of shocking, honestly - whatever magic she did in the mirror, with her kit, it was like she could change the very structure of her face. Usually, she had an almost angular predatory look, with sultry and smokey eyes and sharp cheekbones leading down to a perfect set of clean and bright red lips. Now she looked brighter, more girl-next-door. Sure there were imperfections - soft lines under her eyes, little freckles and blemishes that got hidden by foundation, but her eyes were brighter, and her smile was wholesome.

"Just don't feel like you need to be anything but comfortable, E," I assured her. "I like this look on you."

She sighed and gave me a smirk. "Alright, charmer. What are we watching?"

I tossed her the remote and let her start scanning through the list of new shows. Besides her lack of makeup and apparent lack of a bra, she was still her usual self. Both of her arm sleeves were bared by the tanktop; her left arm was a colourful splash of a dozen of her favourite Pokemon from the original 150, all water-themed. Her right was Star Wars themed and focused on a pinup Femme Boba Fett on her outer upper arm, along with a couple sexy lady Stormtroopers, a Princess Leia in the requisite golden slave bikini, and Padme in the ripped-up white arena fight outfit. Not to mention the Yoda on her inner forearm and chibi Chewbacca just below her armpit on her bicep. Her tank top also showed off the two heart tattoos on either side of her clavicle, and the half-mandala tattoo that sat on the back of her neck at the hairline. Erica's legs, while currently covered by her sweats, were a more eclectic collection of random and unplanned tattoos dating back from her start in the industry - some were done by her own hand, others by fellow apprentices, and a few even by the apprentices she'd eventually trained over the years.

"Heads up!" Leo said, bounding down the stairs in his own sweats and a hoodie, vaulting over the back of the sofa and landing heavily next to his twin sister.

"Jesus Christ," Erica said, ducking away to narrowly avoid getting kicked in the back of the head. She turned and hit Leo in the shoulder. "Watch it, you monkey!"

"Takes one to know one," Leo laughed, swiping away her hands as she tried to hit him again.

Soon the two were involved in a swearing match as Erica was leaning over Leo, trying to tweak his ears and drop a wad of spit down on his face, while he tried to both ward off her hands and push her away at the same time. Their easy sibling rivalry and goofing off usually wasn't this physical, but it still had me laughing and wondering all the same. I'd never had that with my sister - she was about seven years older than me, so we hadn't ever had that sort of a relationship.