Captured Memories (The Sanction Series Book 4)

by Hayley Lawson

  Well, if more people die than are being born, soon we won’t have any people left, Rian speculates.

  I mull this over for a minute.

  Why are so many people dying? I thought the hospitals can cure anything.

  Well, maybe they’re keeping people sick in other Sanctions with poisoned bio-meat like they are here, says Rian.

  But if the population dying out is a bad thing, why would they do it?

  Rian pauses.

  Well, maybe it’s not that, then. Maybe they’re not doing it on purpose.

  The Emperor is going through the Sanctions like a roll call, with each reciting its birth and death rates, income and outgoings, mineral supplies, and food stocks.

  “How is the virus outbreak being contained in Cader Sanction?” the Emperor asks after the last set of statistics has been read out.

  A hassled-looking Chancellor runs his fingers through his hair. “Not well, Emperor,” he says. “We’ve tried isolating the affected, but the quarantine seems to be meaningless. It’s still not clear how it’s transmitted or how it’s cured. Some people just seem to get better by themselves.”

  “It’s the same problem here in Rubin,” chips in another Chancellor. “We’re trying to keep it quiet from the people, but there are rumors getting around.”

  “I see,” says the Emperor, jotting some notes. “This is very worrying. Purenet Sanction,” the Emperor states suddenly, appearing to move on. “Please provide an update on the capture of your renegade. Your son. Where is he?”

  “Soldiers have been released to secure him,” says the Chancellor, and for the first time he sounds nervous and powerless compared to the other person speaking.

  “Soldiers have been released,” repeats the Emperor, his voice unimpressed. “And what? Have they had any success? Do you have his body?”

  “We are using all our resources to catch him,” says the Chancellor. “We are confident—”

  “You are confident, but you have no results,” snarls the Emperor. “This is not good enough. How many more substandard leadership decisions does the Empire have to suffer? Purenet is the weak link in our chain. You are letting us down. Your own son has gone rogue and you can’t even hunt him down.”

  “It’s a sensitive operation,” the Chancellor protests. “My other son—”

  “It seems that the Chancellor of Purenet Sanction is losing his control of the situation,” the Emperor appears to be addressing the entire meeting. Other Chancellors nod nervously in agreement. “If he cannot even rein in his own family. This is very dangerous for us at such a crucial time. If Purenet Chancellor cannot run his Sanction, we will find a new person.”

  “Wait, Emperor,” protests the Chancellor. “I can—”

  “I already have someone in mind,” says the Emperor silkily. “Someone very close to you, in fact.”

  “Emperor, please,” says the Chancellor.

  “Your son, Xander, would make an excellent Chancellor in your place,” says the Emperor.

  “Emperor!” the Chancellor protests.

  “Perhaps you are getting too old, Chancellor,” says the Emperor. “Maybe it’s time to let the new generation take over.”

  “Emperor, if you’ll just give me a chance, I can prove myself to you.” It’s weird to hear the Chancellor beg. Unnatural.

  “You have one more chance to prove your worth as ruler of Purenet Sanction,” says the Emperor. “This new outbreak is troubling. It’s affecting all the Sanctions now. There doesn’t seem to be any way to stop it. People are dropping in the streets. You of all the Sanctions have been blessed with labs to understand the causes of disease and prolong life. If Purenet can find a cure to the new outbreak before it reaches my hub, then maybe I’ll reconsider your suitability to continue your role.”

  “Yes, Emperor,” says the Chancellor.

  “Very good. Meeting adjourned,” says the Emperor, his screen flickering to black.

  The other monitors begin to extinguish as well, plunging the room into darkness. The Chancellor lets out a yell of anger and throws his tablet across the room. He lurches out of his seat and storms out of the room.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Skylier

  “What do they mean, new outbreak?” I whisper finally, after I’m sure we’re alone. Gavyn stands and heads back toward the door. “What were they all talking about? I’ve never heard of any virus emergency. Why don’t we know about it?”

  “This is really bad news,” he says. “We need to make a move.” He lifts some kind of watch to his lips. I realize it’s a communicator or something. “Abaven, can you hear me?” he says into it. There’s a pause.

  “Yes, Abaven here,” comes Abaven’s voice distantly.

  “Abaven, it’s me, Skylier. Are the Cavern people OK?” I butt in before Gavyn can speak.

  “It’s complicated,” comes Abaven’s voice, and it’s far from reassuring.

  “How’s progress?” Gavyn asks.

  “I’m in,” Abaven replies. “I don’t think this line is secure, though. We have to be quick.”

  “Not secure? How long until it can be?” Gavyn asks, alarmed.

  “We have to take the risk,” says Abaven. “We don’t have time to fix it. Where are you?”

  “Government offices,” Gavyn replies. “It’s as far as my clearance will take me.”

  “Good, you’re close,” says Abaven. “I’ve located Skylier and Rian’s mother and sister in the south lab. I will open the doors in exactly ten minutes. You’ll need to be there waiting.”

  “Understood,” says Gavyn. “What about the reinforcements?”

  There’s an uncomfortable pause.

  “You’ll have to do it without reinforcements,” says Abaven grimly.

  “We discussed this,” says Gavyn. “We need the extra help to get the sick people out. Who knows what state they’ll be in.”

  “Things are more complicated now,” says Abaven. “We can’t get reinforcements. You’ll only be able to take Skylier’s family. We can’t help you with the rest.”

  “What does he mean?” Rian asks. “Others?”

  “We don’t know the history of the other people being kept in the labs,” comes Abaven’s voice. “Without reinforcements it’s too risky to get them out too.”

  “But what will happen to them?” I ask, realization starting to dawn on me.

  “There’ll be an uprising,” says Abaven. “But not as part of this plan. I’m sorry Gavyn, it won’t work. This is the best we can do. Cavern isn’t ready.”

  “Understood,” says Gavyn.

  What happened when he went back to Cavern? I project to Rian.

  It sounds bad, Rian responds.

  What isn’t he telling us?

  “Over and out,” says Abaven.

  “Now, listen carefully,” says Gavyn. “When we leave this room, we have to head to the end of the corridor. There’s one last door I can get us through and that’s there. It’s technically one of the office doors, so I still have clearance. Beyond that is the corridor the labs are on. Your family is in the south lab, which is still a bit of a walk, but we can easily make it in the time Abaven has given us. You must follow me very closely. Do you understand?”

  We both nod. Our mounting excitement is almost palpable. We’re finally going to be able to rescue mother and Callie. We’re finally going to be free. Gavyn moves over to the door and listens, then opens it with his barcode and quickly glances out. He beckons to us, and we leave the meeting room, following him quietly down the office corridor. The atmosphere is noticeably tense now. Rian and I don’t even talk to each other telepathically in case it breaks our concentration. If it didn’t feel serious before, it does now.

  A few feet along are an alcove and door with a window in it. Peering through, I see another space beyond. It’s white instead of the silver we’ve been travelling along up until this point. It’s large and open, with sunken alcoves that look like they lead into individual labs. Two figures wearing white su
its are in there, checking a monitor by a door in one of the alcoves. They hold their barcodes up to the scanner and head into the lab. Gavyn holds his own barcode up to the door and we slip through.

  The place feels different immediately. The air tastes bitter and sterile. There’s something inhuman about the place, like any person that comes into contact with it is wiped clean. Even the uncared-for silver compound corridors had character, but this place is just… it’s just a place. Gavyn points to an alcove on the other side of the corridor and we dash for it. As we get there, another door slides open with a whoosh and a woman comes out. We shrink back into the alcove where she can’t see us as she walks by, her nose buried in a chart. I realize I’m not breathing. As I let a breath out carefully, I catch a glimpse of the screen behind me. It’s a view of the lab beyond.

  My eyes fill with tears. There are rows and rows of people—living people—with tubes snaking out of them plugged into machines. I nudge Rian.

  Look at this, I say. It’s horrible.

  A human organ bank, his mind replies as he surveys the scene.

  What? I ask. How do you know that?

  Just a guess, Rian replies. Look, they’re all sedated. There are machines monitoring their vital signs. But they don’t look like they have anything wrong with them. Like they’re just being kept in storage.

  They all look so helpless there, just strapped up.

  We can’t leave them.

  I tug Gavyn’s sleeve. He’s watching the corridor, waiting for the right time to move, checking the time on his watch. His eyes ask me what I’m doing.

  Skylier, we don’t have time, says Rian’s mind.

  I point to the monitor. “We have to help them,” I mouth.

  No. Gavyn shakes his head firmly and taps his watch. No time.

  “Please,” I mouth. My eyes must look as desperate as I feel. These people aren’t sick, I reason with myself. If we could get them off the machines, they could sneak out of here. They could come with us and help rescue more of the others. The ones Abaven mentioned who might really be sick.

  No, Gavyn shakes his head and beckons us to follow.

  Skylier, I think that’s our father in there, comes Rian’s mind suddenly.

  What?

  “Wait!” I call out in a loud whisper.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Dax

  “We have to find Hayden,” I say. “And we have to stop this virus somehow.” It feels hopeless. How can we? Then I remember something and grab Trinity with desperation. “Your father!” I say. “Didn’t he say he was able to fight against it?”

  “Yes,” says Trinity. “You’re right, he did say something about it. What was it?” She thinks for a minute, creasing her forehead. “I think it was about remembering happy thoughts—but that seems too easy,” she says. “Try it now!”

  I frown and try my hardest. “But that’s the problem,” I explain. “It’s like every good thought has been scratched out by something. I can’t remember anything except the bad memories.”

  “Try harder!” she insists. “Please!”

  She doesn’t want to look after both Hayden and me on her own, I can see that. But I shake my head.

  “I just can’t,” I say. “I’m trying as hard as I can, but there’s just nothing there.”

  The hope that had been in her eyes moments before as she remembered the cure fades.

  “I’m OK right now, though,” I say. As if that’s any consolation. “We should try and find Hayden before the virus takes me over again.”

  She nods. “You’re right. Let’s search this cargo bay first,” she says. “Then we head out into the ship. He might just be pacing blankly again. Maybe he hasn’t gone anywhere.”

  We know it’s not likely, though, and it doesn’t take long to confirm that he’s not in here. We heave the cargo bay’s door open and check to be sure nobody’s about, then head up the stairs toward the upper decks. There’s a whole ship to search, how will we find him?

  “He’ll be looking for a fight,” I say gloomily. “If I know Hayden. This virus makes people want to die, and that’s the way he’d want to go, I think.”

  We don’t have to look very hard for a fight. As we emerge on deck, we’re greeted by a melee of yelling sailors. A body crashes into me as I slip out of the stairwell door.

  “Hey!” I cry. “Watch it!”

  The man ignores me. The whole gang of them doesn’t even seem to see Trinity and me.

  “Stay back,” she warns. “They’re unpredictable, and they’ll still see us as intruders.”

  “Can you see him?” I ask, and she shakes her head. They’re all sailors here, crazed and overcome by the virus. The ones who aren’t fighting each other are running into the walls, banging their heads until they bleed. One man sits on the ground not far from us, crying and tearing at his hair. I know how these people feel. The scratching in your head when this virus takes hold is unbearable.

  “Come on.” Trinity takes me by the hand and leads me around the brawl. I duck as a broken bottle comes flying my way.

  We creep along the deck, keeping eyes peeled for any evidence of Hayden.

  “If he’s not fighting, he’ll be—” I start. We stop. He’s at the other end of the deck, climbing over the rail.

  We run. If he’s not fighting, he’ll be finding another passport out of the mortal realm, and this deck gives him the quickest opportunity.

  “Hayden!” I shout warily when we’re close enough for him to hear. He doesn’t look around. He continues to climb determinedly.

  “There’s no time to negotiate with him,” says Trinity. “He’s going to jump overboard.”

  She lunges forward and grabs him by the waist, trying to heave him off the rail. He struggles and kicks out at her, landing his foot heavily in her abdomen. She gasps but keeps clinging.

  “Help me, will you?” she yells, and I remember myself and run to help her save my friend.

  Together we tackle the writhing Hayden onto the deck.

  “Kill me!” he moans, trying to kick us out of the way. “Please, I can’t bear it anymore.” His eyes are so pitiful, part of me wants to help him out of his misery.

  “Dax, keep him still!” Trinity says sharply as she produces a rope and starts binding Hayden’s hands and feet. She’s done this sort of thing before.

  I sit on his chest as he bucks and grunts underneath me.

  “This is for your own good, buddy,” I insist. “Hayden, you have to let us help you.”

  “Let me go!” he wails. “Please, just let it end.”

  “We can make you better,” I insist. “I promise.”

  “Get his legs, I’ll get him under the armpits,” says Trinity as she finishes tying him up. “We need to get him back to the cargo bay. Hopefully no one here will care about us.”

  Even though his legs are tied, Hayden is still bucking uncontrollably. He nearly knocks me out as I try to lift him.

  “One, two, three!” says Trinity. We heave him up and walk crabwise back up the deck toward the staircase.

  Hayden isn’t the only one bent on throwing himself overboard. With no one to stop them, sailors dive into the ocean, many crashing off the giant propellers out the back with a sickening crunch. Trinity’s right, though: no one’s paying much attention to us.

  We crash through the door into the stairwell and practically tumble back down the steps toward the cargo bay. Back in our hiding place, we lean against the door, panting heavily. Even down here, we can hear the yells of the crazed crewmen up above.

  “It was like this all over the ship when I went to look for food,” Trinity says. Hayden rolls about the floor in his ropes, groaning. “I don’t know what’s worse, being trapped in here or facing them up there. I don’t know how much more of this I can bear!”

  “I know what you mean,” I say. “But at least you don’t feel seasick.”

  “No, that’s still there, on top of everything else,” says Trinity. “I wish I’d never climbed on th
is boat.”

  “What about your companion? You know, Death?” I ask hesitantly. “Do you feel him?”

  She doesn’t reply for a second. “Yes, he’s here. But I don’t know who he’s come for.”

  I shiver. “Come on, there must be some way we can help Hayden.”

  “There is.” Trinity strolls up to Hayden, who is trying to wriggle to his feet. She lifts up his head and punches him in the face. He yelps, but is knocked unconscious.

  “What are you doing?” I yell.

  “Giving us some peace,” she says. “And giving him some peace too. A bit of time unconscious won’t hurt him.”

  She may have a point.

  I slump down to the ground, resting my heavy head on my knees, and allow my mind to drift away from me.

  “Ayah! Ayah!” I cry out, waking up from my nightmare. Lying on my back, I feel like I have to cling to the floor to stop it from moving. I hope Ayah comes soon. My stomach churns, but I can’t face moving to make it stop.

  “Dax! Are you OK?” her voice is as sweet as honey.

  “Ayah,” I mumble, and feel a cool hand on my forehead.

  “The virus has got you,” she says. Everything is blurry. Her face swims toward me but she looks wrong.

  “Help,” is all I can manage to say. She comes closer.

  “There, there, it’s all right,” she says, stroking my forehead. Her presence feels warm and soothing, but there’s something wrong about her eyes. I struggle to bring my thoughts together. “Don’t worry, Dax, I’m here to look after you.” She takes my hand, but I snatch it feebly away.

  “Wh-Why… who are you?” I try to say. “Ayah?”

  “Yes, that’s right, I’m looking after you,” she says. But something’s really wrong. Ayah’s… Something’s not right about Ayah. I try and wriggle away.

  “Leave me alone,” I say. “Who are you?”

  “You’re ill,” says Ayah. “You need rest.” She’s trying to trick me.

  Her face swims in and out of focus. She looks like Ayah, but… those eyes. There’s something dead and monstrous about them. I try to sit up, but she pins me back.