Nun But The Brave (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 3) by Alice Loweecey Page A

grab everything. I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for.”
    Giulia dived into the Doomsday Prepper site. Once past the first flabbergasted moments, she studied the site like a lesson. The model standing next to the gigantic water filtration tank like it was a game show prize made her giggle. She screencapped one of the lists of dried and canned foods to hoard. She and Frank hadn’t gotten around to stocking their cellar in case of a crazy winter storm.
    She couldn’t decide which page was the most extreme. How to survive a volcano, with the first piece of advice: “Move away.” Tactical discussion points, with a link to “tactical bacon” which was an actual product available for purchase on Amazon. She appreciated the sales trick of the glamorous model posing in tactical bug out wear.
    But then there was the Tactical Scarf tutorial. Bug out bags—knapsacks or duffel bags with essential supplies for when the bombs drop and you have to get to your bunker in a hurry. First aid, energy food, water purifier tablets…the list could apply to an extended hike in an area without cell phone reception. Conscientious Preppers made a bug out bag for their dog too, though none of the bags offered for purchase were intended for yappy little dogs.
    Next, the advice to buy several hundred sandbags to keep both water and bullets out. An article explaining why not to dress the whole family in camouflage when you live in the ’burbs: If your family looks like the only prepared family on the block, your neighbors will reenact the Electromagnetic Pulse version of “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street.” Apparently EMP and limited nuclear war were duking it out for the most likely way humanity would destroy itself.
    When she clicked the “Unique Survival Tools” page, she knew she had a clear winner.
    “Trivia, guys: Do you know the four ways tampons can be used as a survival tool for the zombie apocalypse?”
    Silence. Even the typing stopped. Then Zane’s voice with a hitch in it: “Is this a test?”
    Sidney said, “Stop a bloody nose.”
    Giulia said, “Really? How? Oh, wait.”
    “One of Olivier’s brothers referees high school soccer. In one girls’ game two of the players clocked heads and they both got bloody noses. Their coaches each took a tampon from their first-aid kits and the girls stuck them up the bleeding nostril.”
    Zane’s voice got very small. “I feel the need for a mental health day.”
    Still at her desk, Giulia said, “You knew the risks when you took a job in an office with two women.”
    Typing resumed. Giulia checked her notes and the connection fell into place. When Joanne started to change in February and on through March, the advice on the Prepper site about how to survive the coming doom matched it all. Acquire self-sufficiency, sharpen your hunting and cooking skills, join a tight-knit community, and be part of a chosen group.
    “It’s a cult.” Giulia blew out a breath. She knew cults. “This isn’t good.”
    Zane knocked on the doorframe. “Report finished and ready for your stamp of approval. Please tell me you need help with something other than feminine hygiene quizzes.”

Seventeen

      
    Giulia squashed the temptation to list the four tampon survival tricks she’d read a few pages earlier. “I need your expertise. I have a hunch about a local Doomsday Prepper group, but there’s no footprint on the web. I don’t have anything else to go on.”
    Zane rubbed his hands together. “Simon says: Hack!”
    “What?”
    “ Underdog , Ms. D. The old cartoons from the sixties. Simon Bar Sinister is Underdog’s nemesis. We’ve been watching the shows after gaming nights and they’re awesome.”
    “Whatever works. Thanks.”
    Sidney said from her desk, “I’ve got nothing significant. Do you want me to put the Workers’ Comp investigation on hold and keep going?”
    “No. Now that Zane’s saving my bacon on the Prepper search, I’ll take over the twin