Isolation | Book 4 | Holding On Jones, Nathan (best smutty novels txt) 📖

at Nick's hip crackled. He almost wasn't surprised to hear Jay's voice.

“You call that an ambush, Stanberry?” the Wensbrook leader demanded. “I'll show you one none of you will walk away from. After I pay a visit to the houses you cowards abandoned, make sure you get the same sort of homecoming you gave-”

Nick shut off the radio, sick of that bald psycho's voice.

When he looked up he found Chet smirking at him bitterly. “Didn't take him five seconds to make you eat your words, huh?” the young man said. “We go easy on him today, he just uses it as an excuse to come at us twice as hard tomorrow. He's not going to stop until we stop him.”

“I stand by my words,” Nick said as evenly as he could. “Even more when Jay's providing an example of what we could become if we lose ourselves.”

Chet just grunted harshly. “My dad told me as a kid that it's not wrong to stand up for myself. Ducking my head and letting someone do whatever they want to me or people I care about, just to avoid a fight, doesn't make me a good person. Just the opposite, really, if I'm failing loved ones who are depending on me.”

It was hard to argue that. “It's a different story if he's shooting at us,” Nick said. He nodded irritably towards the brothers' truck. “You want to sit around at the site of an ambush debating this until Jay comes back? Let's go.”

✽✽✽

Ellie watched grimly as a patrol of four Zolos survivors trooped past her camp at a distance of about thirty feet, nodding politely to her and Ricky as they passed.

Starr had ordered everyone on high alert after the failed ambush on Jay's convoy, and doubled the survivor patrols. Ellie had no doubt Nick and their other friends among the survivors were running themselves ragged at the moment, but even so she didn't feel safe.

Such was the power of a bald maniac with a few matches, some water balloons, and enough hatred to burn the world.

Even though nothing he'd done so far had been truly difficult or devastating, aside from for those poor people whose homes had been targeted like Stanberry's leaders and the McCleeses she supposed, everyone seemed to believe Jay's powers bordered on the supernatural. As if he was some sort of evil genius/super soldier instead of a random hunter with a grudge.

“Is Dad going to be able to come to the wedding?” Ricky asked her abruptly, eyes on the passing patrol. He'd been cuddled on her lap long enough for her legs to start falling asleep, but considering everything they'd been through she savored every moment she could hold her child.

And ached fiercely to be able to hold Tallie as well. But thanks to Jay that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

“I'm sure he'll find a way to take a break from his patrols to be there,” Ellie murmured, hugging her son tighter for a moment. “He and Tallie wouldn't miss something like this for the world.”

Ricky didn't seem reassured. “What if Jay attacks during the wedding? Will he shoot us?”

“Of course not, honey!” she exclaimed. “Your dad and his friends are going to protect us.”

“But how can he protect us if he's at the wedding?” her son protested.

Ellie paused helplessly, trying to think of the best answer for that. Before she could find one the radio on her belt crackled. “Hardy to Ms. Feldman. Urgent communication. Over.”

She frowned as she gently eased Ricky off her lap and scrambled to grab the radio; Johnny, her counterpart in the main camp, liked to be informal and almost always kept things on a first name basis, especially when referring to himself. To the point where it actually took her a second to realize it was him, mostly by the familiar voice.

That was her first indication something was wrong.

“Feldman here,” she replied.

Johnny's voice was clipped, strained . . . she almost would've said frightened. “Ellie, I need you to give me a quick refresher on outbreak lockdown protocols from the Colorado Springs camp.”

She felt her heart seize in horror as the implications dawned. “Is it-”

“I'm afraid so,” he replied grimly, as if afraid to even say the word.

Zolos.

Ellie had dreaded this day ever since volunteering to take over the camp. And considering that this was a quarantine camp, an outbreak seemed like a matter of “when” rather than “if”.

Even so, she'd hoped they could beat the odds. That by some miracle they would be spared running into the virus at all or, if they did have cases, their entry quarantine procedures would keep them safely contained.

Unrealistic as it was, she'd hoped.

Well, at least they'd prepared for when “if” became “when”. “Please tell me it's in the section hit by Jay's biological attack that we already quarantined off,” she said.

She doubted they were that fortunate, though. The handful of people in the tents hit by the Wensbrook survivors' water balloons had seemed fine for the last nearly four days, so she'd let herself hope that they were either lucky and immune, or the water in the balloons had been safe after all.

More than likely the latter, since while Jay might seem like a psychopath, the people with him couldn't all be such monsters that they'd deliberately risk infecting innocent people.

“I'm afraid not,” Johnny replied grimly. “It's four confirmed cases so far among two different families, all in the nearby new arrivals' section. Under the circumstances it's safe to say they'll probably just be the first.”

Ricky was huddled fearfully at her side, staring up at her anxiously. Over by the fire Hal and his siblings had all leaned closer, listening in mounting dread.

Ellie swallowed. “You've closed off the entire section?”

“We're in the process of doing so. We need to know what to do about the people already in there, how to see to their needs without them risking infecting each other or anyone outside the section.”

“First things first, we need to transfer those who've