V.J. Chambers - Jason&Azazel Apocalypse 01

The Stillness in the Air

Book One of the Jason and Azazel Apocalypse Trilogy

The electricity went out months ago, all over the east coast. Due to her special powers, Azazel is employed by the government to help keep the peace as civilization crumbles around them.

Azazel, Hallam, and Marlena lead a rag tag group on a mission to get west and get help, but there’s someone in the way.

Jason.

He says he still loves Azazel.

But she can’t ever love him again.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am indebted to the help of many people in the writing and editing of this book. Firstly, a huge thank you to Cindy Slayden, a resident of Columbus, Kentucky, for helping me with a little firsthand knowledge of the town. I’m sure I’ve screwed up a thousand things, however. They are my errors, not hers.

Additionally, an enormous thank you to my wonderful beta readers who read a draft of the book and helped me clean up errors. Thank you so much Stacy Wallace Benefiel, Melinda Desy, and Raina Tash. I am forever grateful.

Thanks go out to my followers on Facebook for reading daily updates on word count, offering help and encouragement, and just being awesome in general.

Finally, I’d be lost without Aaron Lennox, who lives with my craziness while I’m writing, and is always patient, sweet, and beautiful.

This book contains strong language, violent situations, and some adult content. While it is a
sequel to a young adult trilogy, the characters are several years older and behave like twenty-two-year-olds. As always, minors are encouraged to seek out parental guidance when choosing
reading material.

Before…

October 2012

I picked at a piece of lint on my sleeve, evading the question. “There was a guy,” I said. “I
haven’t seen him in a few years.”

The counselor nodded, leaning forward. “It didn’t work out?” she asked.

I pushed my hair away from my forehead. She couldn’t possibly understand how painful it was to
talk about this. “We were teenagers, you know? It was that kind of crazy, silly sort of thing you
think is love when you’re seventeen. But…”

“It wasn’t love?”

“He was violent,” I said. “Not to me. He was always nice to me, but he’d get really angry
sometimes, and he’d kind of go crazy.” I paused. “Actually, that’s not true. He wasn’t always
nice to me. There was this one time. One time, he almost killed me.”

“So it was an abusive relationship?”

No! Well. “It was…it was just intense. I did things when I was with him. Things I didn’t think I’d
ever do. I still sometimes remember those things. Dream about them. I had a sort of problem
with alcohol for a while. It was just better to get away from him. To get away from all of it. You
know?”

“And there hasn’t been anyone since?”

I shrugged, not looking up. “I’ve dated a couple guys. But…as screwed up as it sounds, being
with them, it’s like…it’s boring. There’s no spark, you know?”

“It’s common for women who are abused to feel an excitement, to miss the adrenaline of the
relationship, even though they know they were being hurt.”

The counselor didn’t know what she was talking about. And she was getting me off track. “Look,
I didn’t come here to talk to you about my relationships. I just heard that I could get
prescriptions through the college for free. And that’s all. I’ve been taking this pill for years. Will
you give me the pills or not?”

“I just think it’s possible, from what you’ve told me, that these pills are cutting you off from your
emotions. Clearly, at the time they were prescribed, you were in a state where you weren’t
functioning. But it’s clear that you don’t have the same kind of trauma in your life. Maybe it’s
time to face yourself again.”

“No,” I said. “No, that’s not it. Not at all.” I needed the pills to stop me from being able to
influence people with my mind. But if I told her that, she’d think I was nuts. “Never mind. You’re
obviously not going to help me.”

“You have to talk about this to someone. If it’s not me, then please tell me you have a friend or a
family member—”

“Everyone in my family is dead,” I bit out. “And no, this isn’t something I ever want to talk
about. Mostly, I just want to pretend it never happened.”

Which wasn’t easy. Things that Jason and I had done had pretty much permanently screwed up
the world. When I’d used my powers to convince all of the Sons to commit suicide, I’d effectively
killed off three quarters of the U. S. government. Now the government belonged to a bunch of
Wiccan tree-worshippers—The Order of the Fly. I’d given up hope that things would ever go
back to the way they used to be. I got up out of the chair, ready to leave.

“I’ll write you the prescription,” said the counselor.

“You will?” I said. That was great. That was awesome. I sat back down. “Thanks.”

“But I have to say that I wish you’d make some appointments with me. Maybe twice a month. To
talk about this. I think you need to process what happened to you.”

That was the last thing I needed. “I’ll think about it,” I told her.

She smiled. “You do that.”

I watched as she scribbled on her prescription pad, wondering why I hadn’t just lied to her. I
could have easily have just said, “No, I’m not in a relationship. No, I haven’t had any serious
issues with relationships. I just want to focus on school right now.” Why had I opened up to her?

I knew it was stupid to open up to psychiatrists. They never understood. They never really
believed me.

I’d only come here for pills. Hallam and Marlena might be working for the government these
days and since the government was overrun by the Order of the Fly, they might think it was
practically criminal to suppress one’s magical talents, but I didn’t care.

The counselor ripped the prescription off of her pad and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said. As long as I had the pills, I didn’t have any powers. That was the way I liked it.

The lights in the office abruptly switched off, along with the hum of the fan overhead. The room
went dark. I blinked, trying to force my eyes to adjust. I could barely make out the face of the
counselor, who was frowning. “Was there a storm?” she muttered. “Maybe something just
tripped a breaker.”

I shrugged. We both stepped out of her office and into the hallway outside, which was just as
dark. The college counselor’s office was in the lower level of the freshman dormitory, and above
me, I could hear whooping. Freshmen seemed to think anything at all was an excuse for
impromptu parties. I’m sure they were all hoping the lights stayed out. It would probably mean
cancelled classes.

I said my goodbyes to the counselor and made my way through the hallway to the lobby of the
counselor’s office. A student work study was on her cell phone behind the desk, babbling
excitedly, “My laptop’s got a battery, and I’m looking at it on the internet. The power’s out all
over the state. We’re gonna be out of class for sure!”

I rolled my eyes. Predictable.

Outside, the sky was blue and clear. No storm. Not even a cloud. There were faint imprints of
purple and pink dancing over the horizon. I squinted. What? Aurora borealis? In New Jersey?

During the afternoon?

What was going on?

Kieran slammed the door of the beat-up Subaru we’d been driving. “So this Jason guy was like your high school sweetheart or something?”

I stepped out of the car myself, stretching. It had been a long car ride. I took a look around. We were standing in front of a church, which looked a little worse for wear. It had a high bell tower, which looked proper and picturesque, but the addition on the back of the building stuck out like tennis shoes on a prom queen. “Sort of,” I said. “There wasn’t much about it that was sweet, though.”

The Kentucky air was warm, but we knew that since we’d been driving with the windows down the whole way. I peeled my shirt away from my back. It was stuck there with sweat. The car we had was equipped for air conditioning, but using the a/c was a complete waste of gas, and it wasn’t like we had easy access to gasoline these days.

“Right.” Kieran stepped over the trailer on the back of the Subaru and opened the trunk. We’d been dragging a motorboat with us all the way from Georgia. “He’s psychotic or something.”

Psychotic? That was putting it a little strongly.

Kieran handed me my bag. I didn’t know why he was suddenly so talkative anyway. We’d barely said anything to each other on the eight-hour drive to Columbus, Kentucky. Things between Kieran and me were a little awkward.

I took my duffle and slung it over my shoulder. “He’s not psychotic. Not exactly.”

Kieran shoved his shoulder-length sandy hair behind his ears and grinned. “He tried to kill you, didn’t he?”

Only once. And he hadn’t exactly been himself during that moment. Of course, I guess Jason’s sense of self was a lot different than what I’d originally thought it was. Especially these days. I shrugged. Was there any point fighting about it? “He’s kind of psychotic, I guess.”

Kieran lifted his own duffle out of the trunk. He half-grinned.

Damn it. Why did he have to be so freaking gorgeous? It would be a lot easier if he weren’t. Of course, if he weren’t beautiful, things wouldn’t be awkward, because I never would have—

“Azazel!”

I looked up, looking for the person who was yelling my name. Marlena was at the door to the church, just under the tower. She was grinning.

I hiked my bag up on my shoulder and strode toward her. “Marlena, it’s so good to see you.”

She met me three steps away from the door and enfolded me in a tight hug. “I know,” she said into my shoulder. “It’s been too long.” Marlena was black and British. I loved the lilting sound of her accent. And she was the closest thing I had to an older sister or a mother figure. I’d missed her.

She released me, and I stepped back to present Kieran. “This is Kieran.”

“Your bodyguard?”

“Her partner,” said Kieran, offering her his hand.

She shook it, raising an eyebrow. “Partner?” She smiled at me, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Kieran winked at me.

I cringed. “Not like that,” I said. It had only been once. And I’d been drunk. And… I wanted to change the subject. “Where’s your husband, the man in charge?”

“Hallam’s inside. He’s fiddling with the radio. It’s down again.” Marlena motioned us inside.

Inside the church, it was darker, despite the fact that the windows, originally stained glass, were all busted out. The air was much warmer, even though a breeze fluttered through the broken glass. I tried to remember what air conditioning felt like, or what electric lights looked like. It had been over six months since I’d experienced either.

“We got the transmission that you were coming,” Marlena continued, walking us into the sanctuary, “but it went down the next day, and we haven’t been able to get it back up.” The sanctuary still looked like a church. There were plush pews lining the rectangular room. Most of them were covered with sheets, blankets, and pillows. Apparently, people were sleeping in here.

The front of the room no longer contained a pulpit, however. A few drums containing gasoline were stacked against the wall and several pallets of bottled water. I knew the look of the provisions well. They came straight from the Order of the Fly emergency shipments.

Marlena walked through the aisle between the pews, heading straight back through the church.

We followed.

“Has the situation changed?” Kieran asked. “Anything we should know about that headquarters couldn’t tell us?”