Sanctuary's Aggression Box Set

by Maira Dawn

  Nothing would erase the fact the Sick were out there no matter how many barriers she put between them and her. But for some reason, the darkened room made her feel better. Her heartbeat thumped a little less, and she pushed away the worry that there are so many of them practically on their doorstep.

  After watching the Sick for a few minutes, she and Dylan had made their quiet way back to the truck. Dylan was quick to assure her the problem would be dealt with, but how she couldn't begin to imagine. Her immediate notion was to leave the cabin, as she had left her own home. But Skye couldn't see Dylan and Wade going along with that unless things got desperate.

  Jesse had been awake and full of questions when they returned to the truck. Skye answered them the best she could without frightening him but doubted her strategy when instead of being scared he was excited about the idea of seeing one of the Sick.

  Skye slumped back against the wall and watched Wade and Dylan set up the radio Tom had given them. The first thing they did was use it to reach Tom. Skye moved to stand behind the seated men as Jesse begged to use the radio too.

  Dylan gave Jesse a sharp glance. "You'll get your turn. Right now, it's serious." Jesse sagged. Dylan ruffled his hair but held his ground.

  Chipper at first, Tom got quiet as he digested the events on their return to the mountain.

  "We got a couple problems," Dylan said. "The person outside your house followed us on up the mountain. We took care of him for now, but he's somewhere out there. It was the man you said you were going to check on. Thought you should know that."

  "Okay, gotcha," Tom said, figuring rightly that Dylan's code meant Frankie and was for Jesse's sake. "How you doin Jesse?"

  Jesse was as excited as a small puppy to have his turn and wanted to use the headset. Gingerly, he sat it on his head and held the sides to his ears as he spoke. Happy after exchanging a few words with Tom, he returned it to Dylan.

  After Dylan explained the horde of Sick and Infected gathering on the mountain, Tom said, "I'll get some of the men together, and we'll be up there tomorrow morning. We'll clear them out."

  Dylan agreed and said goodbye. But, not having answers didn't sit well with Skye. "How are you going to get them to go down the mountain? They aren't just going to go down the hill in an obedient single file."

  Dylan chuckled and ran a hand over her shoulder. "Yeah, I know. We'll figure it out tomorrow. See what Tom has in mind."

  Skye gave up getting answers and used her nervous energy to unpack. However, it didn't escape her notice that when the men completed their other chores, they started putting their weapons in good order. She knew they needed to prepare, but hoped at least some of the Infected could be talked down off the mountain. Surely those capable of it would realize they were a danger to others as their condition worsened. She hoped to get a chance to run it past Tom.

  When he was done, Wade holstered one of his guns and put the others on a high shelf. He put his hands on his hips and turned to them. "I think I'm going to head on over to that farm Tricia suggested for some chickens, D, like we talked about. I have the makings for a pen. The neighbors are gettin thin on eggs to trade and ain't wantin to part with any chickens. I say it's about time we got our own."

  "Wade! Really? Now?" Skye asked. "What if they come after you?"

  "Chickens? Oh, I can handle 'em! I'm quite skilled in chicken warfare." Wade shook trying to control his laughter.

  Skye crossed her arms and pursed her mouth as she stared at him. "You know what I mean."

  "Don't worry, little lady. They ain't gonna come after me. From what you said the Sick and Infected are up here cause they want to be left alone. They ain't gonna start trouble."

  Skye started to disagree but found herself arguing to his back as he walked out the door. Her eyebrows raised, she turned to Dylan. "Your brother!"

  Dylan shrugged and continued cleaning his gun. "Wade knows what he's doing."

  Skye let out an irritated groan and went to the kitchen to find something, anything to do. Why do I bother? Why do I even bother?

  Dylan's gaze trailed Skye into the kitchen. He put his weapon down and went to her. "I know it’s hard, but we just gotta wait til morning to know what we're going to do for sure. Need to see how many men can make it up here and a few other things. As for Wade, well, you’re not gonna change his mind once he gets a thought. Best just let him do what he's gonna do. It's how he works out his nervous energy."

  "It's just -- this is all just --" Skye stopped, shaking her head. "And I’m out of anxiety meds."

  Jesse came over and wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay, Mom. We'll take care of ya."

  Skye gave a nervous, little laugh and pushed back Jesse's hair, holding his face. "And here I am, thinking I'm supposed to take care of you."

  About an hour later, the trio heard the squawk of chickens as Wade drove up. When they stepped outside, Wade stood by the truck a happy, and proud, smile on his face. After congratulating Wade on his find, they all worked at getting the chickens settled into their new home. The birds complained at first, then settled to pecking at the grass.

  Dylan watched the new residents for a while before reaching in and taking one out of the pen. He stroked it a few times then walked away with it.

  Skye called after him, "Where are you taking her?"

  Dylan shrugged. "Figured she'd make a good dinner."

  "What? No!" She crossed her arms.

  "You never made a chicken? We'll show ya."

  "Yes, I have made chicken, just not one that I know."

  Dylan smirked. "You don't know this one either. It's a chicken." He waited a moment, but Skye still looked at him with wide offended eyes, so he offered another argument. "Sides, she's older, I doubt she's laying."

  "Don't kill her. Can't we just let her, you know, retire or something?"

  That earned Skye Dylan's Woman, Sometimes I Can't Believe What You Are Saying look. "No, she can't. Chickens don't retire. They work, or they die."

  "That is a tough stance, couldn't we —“ Skye cast her gaze around as she thought, but Dylan didn't want to hear anymore.

  "It's the middle of the dang apocalypse, and you want to let our food sources retire? No."

  Skye looked to the ground, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew she sounded idiotic, but she wasn't ready for this today. Today had been full enough. Quickly she brushed the tears away. "Look, I know what you must think of me. And yes, my favorite kinds of meat were the unidentifiable skinless, boneless lumps. I know it isn't like that now. But today, with everything going on, could we just do this tomorrow, please?"

  Dylan reached toward Skye until the chicken let out a squawk. He looked from it to her before returning the chicken to the enclosure and mumbling, "I guess you just got a reprieve from the governor."

  Dylan came back to Skye's side. "Just to be clear though, this ain't gonna happen every time we want to eat chicken, right?"

  Skye bumped her arm against his and offered a small laugh. "I hope not. I'm trying to toughen up. You wouldn't believe how I was before all this."

  Dylan laughed. "Oh, yeah, I can believe it. You've come a long way since those red high heels and lattes, ignoring everything unless it bumped right into you. More'n I woulda thought." He winked at her. "While there's somethin to be said for the old Skye, I approve of the changes."

  Skye giggled and looked down. "Still have a ways to go though, right?"

  Wisely, Dylan said nothing.

  4

  Promise Me

  That evening Dylan and Wade instructed Skye and Jesse on how to secure the cabin against attack. Each of the windows were paired with a steel sheet that covered them quickly and easily. The doors contained bars with the ability to latch and secured them.

  Wade banged on the front door. "This here is a steel door, it's just wood veneer. Ain't no one gettin in here easy."

  Dylan lowered a ladder leading to the small, low attic. He hauled up cushions and food for Skye and Jesse, enough to last for
a day. "You close up this cabin and stay up here tomorrow."

  "Do you really think that will be necessary? The fight, if it comes to that, won't be near us." Skye scanned all the downstairs preparations. "Surely the downstairs will be safe enough."

  Dylan gave Skye a sharp shake of his head. "It's close enough. We start stirrin them up, and we don't know what'll happen. Necessary or not, it'll make me feel better knowing you and the boy are up here. It's one more line of defense."

  Dylan wrapped his hand around her upper arm. "Promise me you will stay up here."

  "I will."

  Dylan continued to stare at her as if willing her to understand the importance.

  "I promise, Dylan. We'll stay up here."

  His eyes narrowed. "And this is a promise you'll be keepin?"

  Skye sighed a little, she was forced to admit she had only a so-so track record with him. "Yes, I will keep it."

  Dylan nodded and let go of her. "Stay here, I have somethin else to show you."

  When he raced down and came back with guns and ammo, Skye's expression showed her distaste.

  Dylan barked out a sharp laugh. "Too bad, little woman, you're gonna have them ready. Load these in the morning and keep them ready."

  Skye bit her lip but nodded. She took note as he showed her the lookouts where she could get a full view of the yard. She raised an eyebrow at Dylan. "Why do I feel you and Wade have had this cabin army-proofed for a long time?"

  "Cause we have."

  "Why?"

  Dylan shrugged and grunted something she couldn't make out as he made his way back down the ladder.

  The morning brought ten men, a cargo truck, and a plan up to the mountain. Dylan was the lookout and whistled. Skye came out to greet her cousin and to hand out some muffins she baked for everyone.

  With a determined look on her face, Skye drew Tom aside. Tom listened and nodded. "I agree, Skye. I'm hoping for a peaceful resolution, but I have to warn you, I won't be surprised if there isn't."

  "But you're going to try?"

  "I'd already planned on it."

  The clatter of weapons being checked and rechecked filled the morning air. Skye shook her head at Jesse as he went to each person asking to see their weapons. How was she going to give him a peaceful life in all this chaos? With his background, violence may be the first thing he turned to, and she wanted to change that. But the way the world was now, it would be a hard thing to do.

  Tom waved Wade over and explained his plan. "It's fairly simple. We get those Sick into the box truck. I agree with Skye we try and get them to agree to it. But if they don't agree, we get them in it by any means necessary. We will start with the least aggressive and work our way up. I want this done legally, so I am deputizing all of you for the day. Let's gather everyone up. I'll run down the order of events in dealing with a group of disorderlies as it was taught to me."

  "Where are ya takin them when we're done?" Wade asked.

  "I got on the radio last night. There's a containment area for the Sick a couple towns over. They've got some of the military watching over it. Reckon it's the best place for them now."

  "Okay then," Dylan said as he picked at his nails, "let's get this over with."

  Tom handed out masks and gloves. "Seems a lot of us may be immune to this thing, but I'd rather not take any chances. Wear them in case this ends up in close quarters."

  As the men piled back into the trucks, Skye and Jesse said goodbye to Dylan and Wade. Dylan watched Skye give a Wade a quick hug and scolded him to be careful, then she moved to him. Skye's concerned green eyes slowly lifted from his chest to his face. She wrapped a hand around his forearm. "Please promise me you will be careful."

  "I promise, Skye."

  Skye stepped close and reached her arms around him. She hugged him and laid her head against his chest. Dylan could almost swear his heart skipped a beat. But without a doubt, it began to ache. When she started to pull away, he refused to let her.

  Not yet.

  Dylan tightened his arms, avoiding her bruising from her encounter with Calvin. He gazed down at the top of her head. Dylan stayed that way until he heard the banging of car doors closing as the men entered the vehicles. Then whether Dylan was ready or not, it was time to go.

  He released Skye but took a minute to lift her chin and repeat his promise, "I will."

  Dylan cleared his throat a couple times and glanced from Skye to Jesse. "Now you both get in there. I want this house locked up before I leave."

  Skye and Jesse entered the cabin and secured the door before Wade and Dylan moved. When they knew the woman and boy were as safe as they could be, the men got in Dylan's truck and followed the caravan out of the clearing and onto the road.

  Dylan clenched his jaw as he watched the little cabin get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. He hated the sick feeling in his stomach as he left them behind.

  5

  Weston

  Dylan's hands gripped and twisted the smooth leather steering wheel as he forced his mind to shift from Skye to the task at hand. There was no place for distracting thoughts when a man prepared for battle. Staying sharp was the key to survival.

  When the men reached the small path leading to the Sick, they parked their vehicles and jumped out, feet pounding the dirt road. Silently, they strapped their weapons to their bodies. There was no need for words. The plan made, it was time for action.

  Dylan laid his crossbow on his back and looked over his rifle one more time. He planned to be prepared for anything. He and Wade were, in fact, the most outfitted men there. They each carried their bows, two guns, knives and a few little surprises Tom didn't know about in case something went awry. No way we ain’t getting back home today.

  Dylan, Wade, and Tom took point as the group prowled through the forest. Dylan indicated the way to the men fanned out around them. The group moved as quickly and quietly as they were able, though Dylan thought they sounded as loud as a bunch of zoo animals and hoped the Sick's hearing wasn't up to par. Still, he couldn't help exchanging a look and a grimace with Wade after some loud rustling and snaps of branches.

  When Tom’s men reached the little green glen the house stood in, they all stopped as Dylan pointed out the surroundings to Tom. The sheriff signaled the men to spread out along the dense tree line and to stay hidden. Then he stepped out into the opening.

  Tom's chest heaved with several deep breaths. The sunlight caught on the badge he wore pinned to his sheriff's uniform. He cleared his throat to speak. Before he did, the Sick spotted him.

  Like yesterday, the Sick meandered through the yard. Those less affected by the disease did chores. All of them stopped when they spotted the sheriff.

  One of the Sick, confused and angry, lumbered toward Tom. An Infected grabbed the Sick’s arm to still him as he lowered the garden hoe he'd been using on the vegetables to the ground. He stepped forward, indicating he was the leader.

  "We're all sick here, but we're not hurtin anyone," he said, his manner slow and earnest. "We stick to ourselves."

  Tom tipped his head in acknowledgment. "My name's Tom. I'm the sheriff of Colton. What's yours?"

  "Weston."

  "Well, Weston. I'm sorry to say we need to have a conversation about what's going on up here."

  Weston frowned and crossed his arms. "Like I said, we aren't hurtin anyone, and we stop the bad ones from roaming."

  "That may be true at the moment, but there are people with kids on this mountain. Their families have kept them away from this disease in the hope they'll survive this. What happens if one of your Sick gets away from you? What happens when you're all as ill as they are? Who will stop the roaming then? If those families get this illness, if one of those kids do, it's on you."

  Weston looked down and shook his head, but he couldn't give a acceptable answer to Tom’s question. "We'll move on down the mountain when it comes to that."

  Tom sighed and rubbed his cheek. "That isn't good enough. There isn't rhythm or reason t
o this disease. You could all wake up tomorrow more ill than you are now."

  Weston looked out over his group, then the ground and scuffed his feet before looking back at Tom. "What are you thinkin?"

  Tom pointed toward the road. "I have a truck. I'm hopin you all agree to get inside. There's an area set aside for the Sick a couple towns over. We'll take you there."

  A grumble went out among Weston's more coherent people. "That won't work. Some escaped from there. They say it isn't a good place to be." Weston thought for a moment. "Take us to a deserted town."

  Tom exchanged a glance with Dylan. "I feel for these people," he murmured, "I really do. It's the first time I've come across any trying to do the right thing."

  Dylan nodded, his heart weighing heavy as he looked as the Sick and Infected.

  Tom turned back to Weston. "I wish that would work, Weston, I really do, but there are pockets of survivors all through these hills. Taking you to a town may help us, but it may kill others. I can't do that. You need to go to the containment area."

  The crowd's murmur grew louder. Many of the Infected began to pace back and forth across the grass, their faces red with anger. The Sick picked up on their emotion, and rage started to stir in them.

  Tom eyed Weston’s people and kept his voice calm. "We don't want to upset you, but you know firsthand what this disease is, what it does. You can't want that for others when it can be avoided. See it from our side. Look at the chance we'd be taking if we just walked away."

  Weston's voice took on a hard edge. "And we won't go to the containment camp. We'll fight before we do that. We'll fight, and you'll die. You'll die right here."

  Tom shook his head. "I didn't want it to come to this. I didn't come alone. If we fight, it isn't me who will die."