Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella

by Mary, Kate L.

  “I’m sorry,” Jackson said after less than ten steps. “I was stupid for bringing your uncle up.”

  His apology caught me off guard and my eyes were instantly filled with tears, which seemed to contradict the very things I’d been thinking right before he made his apology. I shook my head, unable to talk, and my dark hair swished over my shoulders, tickling my arm and probably Jackson’s as well.

  “No. It was dumb for me to get upset, and it wasn’t even really about Angus.”

  “I know,” Jackson said.

  Of course he did. He knew almost everything about me. Had seen me at my worst moments. Hell, he’d held me at my worst moments.

  I couldn’t form words well enough to let him know that I forgave him, but he knew. Together we walked in silence, Jackson’s strong arm around me every step of the way, almost like he was holding me up. His fingers were firm on my waist and felt so natural that I started to wonder if everyone else might have been on the right track about us. He was my best friend. Sometimes, it felt like he was my only friend. There was a serious shortage of people our age and forming relationships had never been easy for me.

  When the virus hit twenty years ago, billions of people had died and come back as zombies, killing thousands maybe even millions more. Most of the babies born in the early years following the outbreak had died, but Jackson and I were some of the few to make it. He’d been here in Atlanta, which meant he got the new antibiotic the CDC had created. Me… Well, nobody really knew how I survived. Luck, probably. My biological father died before I was even born, and my mother only a few days after. If it hadn’t been for my parents—Vivian and Axl James—I wouldn’t have made it here at all. But I did and they raised me, and I had a good childhood despite the walls and the zombies and the death that surrounded us.

  Only now, Dad was gone.

  “I miss him.”

  The words popped out before I had time to think them through, but I couldn’t regret saying them. I did miss Dad, and talking about him at home only made it worse because Mom’s delusions had taken over our life, making it harder and harder to get through a day without screaming.

  Sometimes, I had a hard time forcing myself to go home at all.

  Tears filled my eyes and spilled over before I could stop them, and Jackson stopped walking. He wrapped his arms around me, and seconds later my face was pressed against his chest. Even Jackson, who wasn’t a tall man, seemed to tower over me today. It may have had to do with my mood, though. I wasn’t that short, three inches past five feet, but at the moment I felt like a dwarf in Jackson’s arms.

  “Jackson, I—” I tried to pull away even though his embrace was comforting. “I don’t want to…”

  “Shhh,” he said, holding me tighter so I couldn’t escape. “This isn’t romantic. I know how you feel about that and I promise not to try and kiss you—even if it kills me.” The teasing in his voice made me smile through the tears clouding my vision.

  “You’re too good to me,” I said, using his shirt to wipe my damp cheeks.

  “I know. Trust me, I know.” He did his best to make the words light, but there was still a hint of bitterness in them.

  I swallowed, but kept my head pressed against his chest. The Jackson I knew was sweet and caring, but that didn’t stop his father from getting into his head on occasion. The man wasn’t just powerful; he was manipulative. So much so that I sometimes worried it would suck all the goodness out of Jackson and leave nothing behind of the man I cared so much about.

  I kept my face pressed against his chest and my eyes squeezed closed until I was sure the tears had finished. When I pulled away, Jackson didn’t try to stop me.

  “Okay now?” he asked, his hands still on my shoulders and his thumbs gently stroking my skin.

  “Yes.” I swiped my hand across my face as I let out a deep sigh. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him being gone.”

  “It’s hard, I know.”

  He did, just like everyone else in New Atlanta. Probably in the rest of the world. We all knew what loss felt like. Some of us may have been too young to remember the original virus, but death was a regular part of life now. People got attacked while working outside the walls or got sick when we were between meds. The CDC might have been in Atlanta, but their resources were still limited.

  Even worse, there had been other illnesses since the original virus. It seemed like every few years a super-charged flu swept through the settlement, claiming hundreds of lives. Jackson’s own mom had been a victim of the illness. It was before he and I were really friends, but I knew he had to miss her.

  “How’s your mom?” Jackson asked, almost as if he was thinking of his own mother.

  “Crazy.” The word came out bitter and hard, and I tried to swallow it down. I loved Mom more than anyone else alive, but lately it didn’t seem like there was much of her left. She’d been chipped away a little at a time, starting back when the virus first hit. Each loss had been like another chain thrown over her shoulders, bearing her down. “Losing Dad may have sent her over the deep end.”

  “You have to believe she’ll pull through. It can’t be that bad.” Jackson’s eyes darted my way, watching me closely out of the corner of his eye. “She’s been through so much. Stayed so strong through all of it.”

  I shrugged, and just like a few minutes ago, tears filled my eyes. This time for an older loss. One that happened so long ago it sometimes felt like a dream. But other times, like now, it seemed as if it had happened only yesterday.

  When I didn’t say anything, Jackson squeezed my shoulders. “She’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah,” I said, but the word had no hope in it.

  Jackson waited for me to say something, but my throat was still too clogged with tears.

  After a moment, he sighed. “Come on. Let me get you home before your crazy mom sends out a search party.”

  I snorted as I allowed him to lead me down the street. “Parvarti would just love having to comb the streets for me.”

  “And you say I’m well connected,” Jackson muttered.

  Chapter Two

  Meg

  Mom’s panicked voice greeted me the second I shut the door, and in an instant all the tension Jackson had managed to ease away was back.

  “Megan? Is that you?”

  “It’s me,” I called, even though I shouldn’t have had to. There was no one else. Not anymore.

  She came out of the kitchen with her hand on her chest like she was trying to calm her pounding heart. It was a cliché, but also probably not far from the truth. She’d been increasingly more paranoid since Dad disappeared.

  “I’ve been going crazy! Your shift ended hours ago.” Her brown eyes, which at one time had sparkled with life, were big and round and dull as they moved around the room. It was like they were always searching for something—or, more accurately, for someone. “Where have you been?”

  “With Jackson,” I said, crossing my arms.

  Mom’s lips pressed together and I could tell she was torn. She wanted me to be happy, even in her slightly delusional state, but my parents had never been thrilled with the relationship. It wasn’t just the fact that he was the Regulator’s son, either. Dad had always said that Jackson acted like he was wearing a mask. My father had never gotten the chance to see the real Jackson, though. Not like I had.

  Of course now, anyone connected with the Regulator or the CDC was suspicious to Mom.

  “I’m fine,” I said firmly. It wouldn’t be enough to end this conversation and I knew it, but I had to try and steer the conversation in another direction.

  Mom shoved her hand through her dark blonde hair, which was in desperate need of a wash, then crossed her arms over her chest. She looked like she was trying to pull herself together. It wasn’t working. She was about to unravel. I knew it. She knew it. Hell, probably every neighbor we had knew it.

  “Did you go to work today?” I asked against my better judgment.

  “You know I can’t,�
�� she hissed.

  I squeezed my eyes shut while mentally tabulating my own credits. It wouldn’t be enough. Not even with the credits Dad had stashed away.

  The image of Suzie’s slum flickered through my mind and a shudder shook my body. No. That would not happen. I’d sell myself in the entertainment district before I allowed that to happen to us.

  When I opened my eyes, Mom hadn’t moved an inch.

  “We’re going to lose our apartment,” I said, hoping to talk some sense into her. I needed her help. I couldn’t do this alone.

  “Is that what you’re worried about?” she snapped, her eyes somehow growing larger.

  “Yes, and you should be too.”

  Don’t scream, Meg. Don’t do it. Someone will call the Judicial Officer and Parvarti will show up. It will put her in an awkward position.

  “I can’t worry about an apartment!” Mom hissed, her voice quieter this time. Her brown eyes left my face only to dart around the apartment again. It was like she thought someone was listening in on us. “Your father is missing. They took him.”

  “No one took him,” I said even though I had no idea what had really happened to Dad.

  Mom nodded so fast that her hair fell into her face, covering her eyes. She didn’t push it back. “The CDC has him. They had Angus there. They used him for years. Kept him alive even though they told us he was dead. Just so they could create a vaccine. It worked for a while, but when the virus mutated they had to start all over. Then he finally died and it mutated again, and they needed someone else. Someone new. Your dad.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d thrown the crazy theory at me, but it didn’t get any easier to hear. Even though I didn’t believe it for a second, the idea that someone was holding Dad captive and using him like a lab rat made me physically sick.

  “Stop it,” I moaned, choking back the tears. “Please.”

  “I can’t!” Mom threw her hands in the air, and for the first time I noticed how thin her arms were. Almost skeletal.

  She wasn’t eating. I’d suspected as much, but seeing all the weight she’d lost sent a shiver shooting through me. I’d already had so much taken from me, and I wasn’t sure if I could stomach losing her too.

  Only, I didn’t know if she could be saved at that point.

  “Dad isn’t immune,” I said calmly. “They would have told you when you got here. Joshua said it a thousand times—”

  The second the words were out I knew they were a mistake, but it was too late. The trigger was there and she was ready to pull it, blowing a bullet through the last bit of hope I had that she wasn’t losing her mind.

  “He said it, but that was before. Then Axl disappeared and no one had a clue where he went. How does no one know? It doesn’t make sense. Then Joshua started looking into it, and next thing you know we’re being told there was an accident. An accident!”

  She paced as she talked, her fingers picking at the hem of her dirty shirt. Her mouth moving so fast that the words spilled out like a waterfall, flooding the room and my head until I felt like I was on the verge of drowning.

  I backed away until I was at the front door, and when I slipped out, she was still pacing. Still jabbering away like something was eating at her brain. Chomping on it until the Mom I knew didn’t exist.

  I shut the door, but her words didn’t fade completely.

  In the safety of the hall, I exhaled and sank to the floor. My head fell back, bumping against the door. I focused on the ceiling. It was a textured pattern that was so familiar I probably could have drawn it in my sleep. Row after row of two inch white sunbursts spread from one end of the hall to the other, only interrupted by the recessed lights and smoke detectors. The familiarity of it was soothing, so I started tracing them with my gaze. Focusing on the lines while my heartbeat slowed.

  “How is she?” I’d only made it a few rows before Lila’s musical voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up to find her standing only four feet away from me, her brown eyes sad. How I didn’t hear my aunt walk up was an utter mystery.

  “Horrible,” I said, hauling myself to my feet. A piece of paper taped to the door caught my eye and I pulled it off without thinking about it. “I was a couple hours late and she lost it.”

  Lila’s eyes moved to the door at my back and she frowned, her beautiful face marred by the creases that seemed to have grown deeper in recent weeks. She was part of this family, and for her the loss of Dad and Joshua had been like losing brothers.

  “She’s suffered so much. It doesn’t seem fair,” Lila mumbled, her eyes still on the door.

  “Everyone has lost people,” I pointed out, my hand tightening until the paper I’d just pulled off the door crinkled in my grasp. “Both of your parents died when the virus hit.”

  Lila’s gaze moved to my face, and I could feel her mental chiding. “I’ve never lost a child.”

  The words were nicer than I deserved, but that had always been Lila’s way.

  “You’re right.” I looked down as heat spread across my face. Red print started up at me from the paper in my hand, but I couldn’t read what it said. “She’s been through a lot,” I mumbled, smoothing the paper out. It was an invitation.

  “Two kids.” My aunt’s words pulled my attention away from the paper and I looked up to find her shaking her head. A second later, she sighed and turned toward her own apartment. “How does anyone survive that?”

  Images of my sister flashed through my mind, but I pushed them away. Even after all these years there were times when the pain felt so sharp that it took my breath away. Like now, standing where we had once played, feeling as if her ghost was still hanging over me. Sometimes, if I stood still long enough, I could almost hear the tinkle of her laughter echoing through the hall.

  “Come on,” Lila called, holding the door open for me.

  I followed, the invitation still clutched in my hand. My legs were heavy and my head felt like it was floating above my shoulders. Mom’s voice was still audible, but I knew I’d be safe from it in Al and Lila’s apartment.

  It was one of the only safe places I had left.

  “Charlie should be in her room,” Lila said as she headed toward the kitchen. “Have you eaten?”

  “I’m not sure we have any food in the apartment,” I replied. “I’m not even sure we’ll have an apartment much longer at this rate.”

  Part of me hated throwing my problems on my aunt’s shoulders, but I also knew I wouldn’t be able to hide them from her forever. The credits I made had to go toward rent, leaving nothing for food. I did my best to eat at Jackson’s, or pop into Lila and Al’s. Even Parvarti’s if I could catch her at home, which had been less and less frequent now that Joshua was gone. But I needed to be sure to take some home to Mom, which left little for me. She wasn’t the only one who’d lost weight.

  “We won’t let that happen,” Lila said firmly.

  “You have your own family to worry about. You have Charlie and Luke.”

  “You won’t have a choice.” Her hands went to her hips. “Luke is barely home anymore. I’m pretty sure he’s seeing someone, and if he gets married he can apply for an apartment. And Charlie has her own job. Hopefully she starts that apprenticeship soon, too.” Lila rolled her eyes before turning to head into the kitchen. “She may spend most of her credits in the entertainment district, but she’ll pitch in if we need it. I won’t have any freeloaders in this house.”

  Despite my shitty day and horrible circumstances, I found myself smiling. All my life I’d heard stories about how wealthy Lila’s family had been before the virus. It was funny to try and picture her in that role. Especially now that she was a frugal post-apocalyptic housewife who regularly lectured her eighteen-year-old daughter about wasting credits on frivolous things.

  “We’ll get by,” I said, and then hurried to Charlie’s room before Lila could stop me.

  I rapped my knuckles against the door, but only paused a second before pushing it open. Charlie, who was a perfectl
y gorgeous combination of her parent’s Asian and Mediterranean lineage, looked up from where she was sprawled across the bed.

  “Thank God,” she said, tossing the book she’d been pretending to read aside. Charlie didn’t read. “I’ve been dying of boredom.”

  “No big plans for this evening?” I said, lowering myself onto the bed at her side.

  Charlie snorted as she tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. “Nope. I spent all my credits. I can’t wait until pay day so I can go out!”

  “Yeah,” I muttered.

  Sure. Go out. That’s what I’ll be doing with my credits.

  She looked down, and a second later plucked the invitation I’d all but forgotten about out of my hand. “What’s this?”

  “I don’t know,” I said dismissively. “An invitation. I barely looked at it.”

  She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes on the paper as she read. “It’s to Dragon’s Lair. That’s where they’re holding that big fight.”

  My focus was on her threadbare comforter and a loose string I was desperately trying to pull out, so I was only half paying attention when I said, “Fight?”

  “Yeah. Special release program. The prison colony in DC is getting full, so they set this program up to allow some of the lesser offenders a way to earn their freedom.” Charlie shrugged like it was no big deal, but a shiver went through me. “I thought you’d heard. Everyone’s been talking about it.”

  Who’s idea was that? “I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

  “Oh, yeah. Right. Of course.” Pink spread across Charlie’s cheeks and she looked away.

  “Anyway, I hate going to fights and I don’t have a single credit to spare.” I went back to plucking at the string.