Pox Americana 2: A Post-Apocalyptic Pulp Men's Adventure by Zack Archer

Author:Zack Archer [Archer, Zack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Apocalypse, SciFi, Harem
Amazon: B07Q8KD911
Published: 2019-03-27T05:00:00+00:00

Elton-fucking-John. Turns out that was the Madam’s favorite singer.

How did I know this?

Because after snarfing down the food provided by Layla I was taken to her lair, an exhibition room on the second floor of the building that had been emptied of displays.

In place of the insects and mummies was a bed, a table piled high with medical treatises, and a single stuffed primate that stood in the corner like a sentry.

The Madam was next to the primate, dancing by herself, gliding gracefully across the floor and silently mouthing the words to the song as it came to an end. She slid to a stop and wiped a few pearls of sweat from her forehead, an unsettled expression gripping her face.

“I didn’t take you for an Elton John fan.”

The Madam laughed joylessly. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m not an animal.”

She motioned to the guards to close the door as Elton’s Your Song began playing. “I find that music helps to take the edge off,” she said. “These are immensely stressful times.”

“Tell me about it.”

Her head tilted toward three framed items obscured by shadows, that were hanging from the far wall.

“Do you recognize those?” she asked.

“No.”

“They’re the Three Charters of Freedom. The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights.”

“Copies?”

“The originals,” she replied, a glimmer in her eye. “They were supposed to be transported to the government’s secret facility at Mount Weather, but the couriers never made it that far. They were killed when the power went out. Do you remember when that happened? When that first blackout hit and the only thing you could hear was the sound those things were making, like some kind of demented mantra?”

“I’ve blocked it all out,” I said, trying to raise Slade on my internal comms to no avail.

“Well, I haven’t. You can’t imagine how bad it was during those first few weeks,” she added. “There were so many of those things on the outside and so few of us in here.”

“But you made it.”

She smiled grimly. “That’s the history of all women, isn’t it? Surviving in a world turned upside down by men. It’s a cycle, Nick, but one we’re going to break.”

She looked intently at me. “Are you familiar at all with genetics and evolution?”

“Other than what I learned in school, not really.”

“It’s a fascinating area to study.”

I nodded, playing along, thinking this was an awfully long windup. God only knew what the pitch was going to be.

She moved over and stared at the stuffed primate. “There’s this area on a bend in the Congo River.” She placed a finger on the primate’s head. “And on that island live the bonobos. They were originally thought to be chimps, but now we know that they’re an entirely different species.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because our ancestors, chimps for instance, were and remain incredibly violent. But something happened with the bonobos, a kind of domestication syndrome is what some call it. They were able to come together and decrease their own reactive aggression.

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