Metal bands I listened to while writing this book in no particular order: Hail Spirit Noir, Anaal Nathrakh, Spirit Adrift, Tides from Nebula, Volbeat, Zeal and Ardor, Genghis Tron, Pig Destroyer, Weekend Nachos, Killer Be Killed, Insomnium, Spectral Wound, Ghost, Sylosis, Amorphis, Cadaver, Stagnater, Carcass, Tribulation, Gojira, Carpenter Brut,113 Malevolence, Borknager, Desolated, Wrought of Obsidian, Royal Blood,114 Jonathan Hultén,115 Alterbeast, Skeletonwitch, Ringworm, Pale Flag, Ulcerate, Power Trip, Crypta, Opeth, Mastodon, Windrose, Nervosa, Dying Fetus, Metallica,116 Ensiferum, Loscil,117 The BombPops,118 Wintersun, Harakiri for the Sky, and many others I was rocking too hard to remember.

113 Synthwave, but whatever.

114 Technically, those guys are just rock – Technically, you can shut up.

115 Okay, also not metal. He’s like more folk chanting in a forest.

116 Pre-Black Album. ;)

117 That’s not even music! It’s like listening to space.

118 The Bombpops are Pop-punk, it’s in the name for fuck’s sake.

CHAPTER ONE

HYPOVOLEMIA

A state of decreased intravascular volume, including as a result of blood loss.

The sun was barely up, but the hour didn’t keep folks from scrambling in to sell their blood. Early bird donors packed into lines that stretched to the entrance, their collective anxiety like a vapor that flooded Willa’s nostrils when she walked in behind them. After so many decades on the job, she could almost discern the iron tang of it. That they were a mixture of types was obvious by their dress, with some low- and midbloods sprinkled in among the usual O-negs. Willa double-checked the time in case she’d somehow arrived late and glanced around for the station manager. “Claude?”

“Over here,” he called, rounding the corner from the big freezer.

Willa held her arms open toward the growing mob.

“Price boost,” said Claude.

“Again?”

“Check your PatrioCast,” hollered Gena from down at Stall D. “Came down thirty minutes ago.”

Willa slipped on her reading glasses and brought up the alert screen on her handheld touchstone:

PATRIOCAST 10.19.67

***Residual ionizing radiation since Goliath causes latent spike in chronic diseases***

To answer demand, Patriot offers the following incentives for units donated above the Draw. Valid through 10.21.67:

ONEG: +40.75

OPOS: +34.64

ANEG: +18.75

APOS: +16.67

BNEG: +5.7

BPOS: +5.13

ABNEG: +1.71

ABPOS: +1.45

Patriot thanks ALL DONORS. Your gift matters!

Patriot called it the Draw, but the people called it the Harvest. It came every forty-five days, a reaping of blood from every person sixteen and up. But it wasn’t the Harvest that had Donor Station Eight packed to the gills. It was the chance to sell. For those feeling blooded enough to give beyond the minimum, Patriot was a willing buyer – that was the Trade.

Willa hung her jacket and donned her black lab cloak, then brought Stall A online. She buttoned the cloak and pulled its hood snug to her head as the various scanners and probes hummed to life. Each stall had two lanes, corral like, so phlebotomists could handle a pair of donors simultaneously if they were dexterous enough to manage. Willa was.