The Complete Makanza Series: Books 0-4

by Krista Street

  If my brother were alive today, he’d be shocked at how many times over the past year I’d not followed policy. Prior to meeting the Kazzies, I’d been an adamant rule follower. Ironically, it was probably one of the reasons the MRI hired me. Of course, all of that changed when my priorities switched from following the rules to helping the Kazzies. Luckily, that gamble had paid off. We got a vaccine out of it.

  “You do realize that since you’ve been exposed, you’ll be placed in quarantine?” The Director put his hands on his hips.

  “What?” My eyebrows shot up. Dr. Hutchinson never placed any of her employees in quarantine.

  Dr. Sadowsky continued. “With the coming changes for the Kazzies, the new law states any person exposed to Makanza needs to be put in quarantine for three weeks.”

  “Oh,” was all I managed. I hadn’t realized the three week quarantine the president had spoken about in her speech was already in effect.

  “Yes.” Dr. Sadowsky drummed his fingers against his crossed arms. “So as of now, you’ll have to stay in the Sanctum. Cell number seven is being readied for you.”

  “Oh.” Shaking my head, I told myself that was something I could contemplate later. Right now, Davin was priority.

  The medical team took over.

  Davin lay down on one of the beds as the robots swung into action. I stood by the wall, giving any support I could. After the robots took samples, Dr. Fisher said he wanted to do more tests. Davin spent the rest of the evening getting MRI’s, CT’s, and numerous amounts of bloodwork. It was almost midnight by the time they finished.

  Dr. Fisher said he’d review all of the tests and get back to us by tomorrow.

  Dr. Sadowsky took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dr. Forester, I’ll speak with you tomorrow about what happened today. Right now, I think it’s best if everyone gets some rest. Cell seven is ready for you. I’ve had several days’ worth of clothes brought in as well as toiletry items. Can I trust that you’ll do as I ask from here on out?” There was an edge to his tone. I knew at times he found me exasperating, but I also knew he respected me immensely.

  It was my one saving grace.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  He sighed. “Good.”

  Davin joined me, and we walked back to the cells. During the entire walk, a frown marred his features, and he seemed lost in thought. But he didn’t distance himself from me this time. A few times, our fingers brushed against one another’s.

  Each time, it sent a shiver up my arm. I couldn’t tell what it did to him. His movements were stiff, his breath shallow. When we reached his cell, he walked past it, coming with me to cell seven as if on autopilot.

  At my door, he stopped and turned toward me. The dim, nighttime lighting from the hall sent shadows across his face. Pain rimmed his eyes, and he opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, but then he closed it.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “I mean really, are you okay?”

  He guffawed. “It’s more like, are you okay? Do you feel anything? Fever? Aches? Fatigue?”

  My heart broke at the anguish in his tone. “Davin, I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  He looked down and said so quietly, I barely heard him, “I’ll never forgive myself if you’re not.”

  Before I could reply, he turned and walked away.

  8 – QUARANTINE

  It was weird going to sleep in the Sanctum. The strangest thing of all was knowing Davin slept in the adjacent cell. A wall of concrete separated us. That was it.

  Surprisingly, it didn’t take me long to fall asleep. I was exhausted, physically and mentally, but sleep was anything but refreshing.

  Odd, scary dreams plagued me. I dreamt of dying from Makanza, Davin’s anguish, the Kazzies’ shock, my co-workers’ realization that our vaccine didn’t work at all. A Third Wave started. It was the end of the human race.

  I woke with a start, bolting straight up in bed, sweat pouring down my face. It took me a moment to get my bearings. When I did, I peered around the cell. I had no idea what time it was. Without windows, it was impossible to tell.

  Dim, nighttime lighting illuminated the glass hall. It must still be night, or rather, early morning.

  A quick glance at the watch room, and I saw I wasn’t alone. A guard, who usually worked with Garrett, sat in the watch room, appearing to be doing a puzzle of some kind.

  So he’s been pulled in to do overtime for me.

  I didn’t need a guard, so to speak, but I did need someone to control all of the mechanics in the cell. Garrett’s guard apparently got assigned that duty, for the time being at least.

  I coughed and then coughed again. For a moment, I thought my dream had come true. The vaccine doesn’t work. I’m already showing symptoms.

  But then my rational side kicked in. Even if the vaccine didn’t work, I wouldn’t show symptoms this early. It was probably just the dry air in the cell. Humidity ran rampant outside at this time of year, but the manufactured air in the Compound was stale and dry.

  So this is what the Kazzies live with.

  The guard glanced up. He smiled and leaned forward, pressing a button. “Good morning.”

  I nodded. “Good morning.” I cleared my throat. My voice was hoarse. “What time is it?”

  “Almost five.”

  So, it’s still early.

  I lay back in bed and turned my back to him. I had no idea if he watched me or went back to his puzzle. Can’t there at least be curtains on the windows?

  I felt so exposed. So . . . dissected.

  It was not a comfortable feeling, and I hadn’t even been here twelve hours. I tried to fall back asleep, but I couldn’t. I think it was knowing that someone sat just outside my room, able to watch my every move. It was creepy, even though Garrett’s guard was nice. I’d only talked to him a few times, but he seemed decent enough. Still . . . Creepy.

  I pushed the covers off and padded into the bathroom, thankful Dr. Sadowsky had the foresight to bring in clothes for me, including pajamas. I had no idea where he found the clothes. They weren’t mine, but they fit well enough and were clean.

  Behind the half wall that shielded the bathroom, I sat on the toilet. I couldn’t see the guard, which meant he hopefully couldn’t see me either. Regardless, it was uncomfortable. After relieving myself and brushing my teeth, I returned to bed.

  The guard was fully alert now, a smile plastered on his face. Technically, I was his boss, since I outranked him in the MRI, but in the current situation we were in, I felt anything but his superior. I was at his mercy, literally. He had the ability to gas me to unconsciousness if he chose to and there would be nothing I could do about it.

  Now you’re just being crazy. Those barbaric practices stopped when Dr. Roberts left. He’d be fired if he tried anything like that.

  Still, he could if he wanted to. I think that was why it was so unnerving.

  “Are you up for the day?” he asked.

  I sighed. “I guess so.”

  “Would you like some breakfast?”

  I bit my lip. This is so weird! “Um, sure. Thanks.”

  “What should I have sent down for you?”

  “Toast and coffee’s fine.”

  He nodded, looking pleased to be useful.

  I lay back on the bed, wishing again for curtains. It was only five in the morning, and I’d only been awake fifteen minutes, but already I was wondering what to do for the day. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t sleep, at least not at the moment, and I’d never been a TV watcher.

  Sweat again popped up on my brow as a suffocating feeling engulfed me. I was trapped in here. Trapped. And this was just the beginning. For the next however many days, I’d be a prisoner in this cell. My breath came faster, my heart rate increasing. The room felt like it was closing in.

  No, not here. Don’t panic here!

  A scratchy feeling entered my head. I opened the mental link to Sara.

  Meghan, are you okay? I got a
jolt of panic. It woke me up. I knew it had to be you.

  I took a deep breath. Sara was very forgiving about my receptive mind. Still, I knew it wasn’t easy on her. It wasn’t the first time a strong emotional surge from me had broken through the door that separated us.

  I’m just . . . I don’t know, I said.

  Davin told me you’re staying in the Sanctum. He also told me what happened.

  Oh, right.

  Are you okay? She sounded worried.

  I . . . It still felt like the room was closing in. I began to shake.

  I felt her mulling, and then she said, Hang on. I’ll fix this. She shut down the connection and once again, I was alone in my head. A few minutes passed, and then a beeping sound came from the back of my cell.

  Garrett’s guard leaned over the microphone. “Davin’s outside your door. He wants to come in. Is that all right?”

  “Yes.” My voice was tight and high. My breath came too fast. It felt like my throat was closing.

  I can’t breathe!

  The door opened, and Davin strode in. All he wore were pajama pants. That was it. His bare, hard chest gleamed in the dim lights. Scars littered his abdomen. Disheveled hair covered his head, and another day’s worth of beard speckled his cheeks.

  He took one look at me and covered the distance between us in one of his blurred moves. Without saying a word, he sat beside me and hauled me into his lap. Yes, hauled.

  One second I was sitting against the bedframe, my breath so shallow I thought I’d pass out, and the next I was cradled in his arms, his heartbeat steady against my ear.

  “Give us some privacy, will you?” he yelled at the guard.

  I didn’t know if it was Davin’s tone, or that the guard felt entirely uncomfortable witnessing this, but he didn’t protest. His stool practically bounced off the wall in his haste to exit the watch room. Thank goodness that policy had changed. Under Dr. Roberts’ rule, the guards had been forbidden to leave their stations.

  When we were alone, Davin leaned down, his scent and breath surrounding me. I closed my eyes.

  “Breathe, Meghan, just breathe,” he whispered.

  I did as he said, concentrating on my breath. Deep inhale, slow exhale. Deep inhale, slow exhale.

  These panic attacks were becoming out of control. They’d only started in the last few months, after we’d developed the vaccine, and so much extra responsibility, pressure, and public attention was put on me. Prior to that, I’d simply had anxiety but never panic attacks.

  “That’s it. Keep breathing,” he murmured. His presence and calm words worked their magic.

  My heart rate slowed. My breathing returned to normal. After a minute, I felt okay. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He just nodded.

  I waited for him to say something, anything, but he didn’t. It took a second for me to register that he was touching me, holding me. His arms were steel, his scent intoxicating. Nothing had ever felt so right, so complete. I’d dreamed of this moment for so long. I thought it would never come.

  Before I could stop myself, I melted more into him. My entire body softened against his like warm butter. Every hard inch of him seemed to fit perfectly against me.

  His hand roamed up and down my back, lightly caressing me. It sent tingles down my spine.

  Closing my eyes, I savored the feel of him. To be pressed against him was heaven. Laying my head against his chest, I heard his heartbeat within. It beat strong and steady.

  I had no idea how long he held me. My breathing had returned to normal minutes ago, but I was loath to let him go. Instead, I wrapped my arms around him and let him hold me.

  He seemed to sense the change. That I was no longer needing him for anxiety. He grew less relaxed. Stiffer. Harder.

  When I shifted closer to him, his sharp intake of breath followed. Something else grew harder against my stomach. When I realized what it was, my eyes flashed open.

  Davin abruptly pushed me back. In a blurred move, he sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me. His shoulders were tense and rose up and down with every breath.

  My own heart responded. He’s aroused. He grew aroused holding me! I almost squealed with glee, but my excitement abruptly vanished when he turned toward me. His bright blue eyes were guarded and dark. His words from after the president’s address drifted through my mind.

  It can never be.

  I swallowed sharply.

  He kept watching me, but he didn’t say anything. With every passing second, my excitement dimmed more. I picked at a loose thread on the bedsheet unable to meet his gaze. When I finally found words, I asked the most interesting question I could think of. “Um . . . So . . . how did you sleep?”

  “Fine,” was his gruff reply.

  I bit my lip and peeked up at him. The tension was still so thick between us I could practically taste it.

  His eyes are so blue! It was the first normal thought that entered my head. For the first time, I was aware that I saw them with my own eyes, not through some viewing hood, not through a glass wall.

  I’d felt him, smelled him, touched him, and all I wanted was more. Yet, he’d pushed me away.

  It can never be.

  I clasped my hands tightly together.

  “Are you feeling okay?” His voice still sounded weird. Strained.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t . . . feel sick?” Fear lined his words.

  I shook my head, completely confused by his reactions. For the past two weeks, he’d distanced himself from me to the point where I questioned if we’d remain friends, and then, he’d grown aroused holding me. And now he looked so scared and worried at the thought of me being sick that I felt the need to comfort and reassure him.

  None of it made sense.

  “Davin, I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  He continued to stare.

  I cleared my throat. My voice was still hoarse, probably from the few hours of sleep. “So . . . we’re talking again?” I asked cautiously.

  He abruptly glanced away, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  I played with my fingers, my stomach twisting and turning into knots. “Can we talk about . . . what’s been going on with you?”

  I held my breath. Every other time during the last two weeks, when I’d tried to broach this subject, he’d refused to answer.

  An aching minute passed.

  Finally, he sighed. In that sound, I heard the weight of the world. “I was trying to give you space. Let you lead your own life. Once I’m on the rez, our time is up.”

  I suspected as much. Pushing me away seemed to be how he was dealing with the new life he’d lead. Still, I was surprised by the intense anger his admission sparked. I tried to stop it, but it bubbled out of me before I could stop it.

  “Does that justify you giving up on me?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t want you wasting your life on me. Why is that so hard to understand?”

  “And I don’t get any say in how I waste my life?”

  He turned to face me. “Meghan, you’re healthy. You’re whole. You have your whole life in front of you. You can do whatever you want, go wherever you want. You don’t need me tying you down. I could never ask that of you. I won’t ask that of you.”

  I sat up straighter, my voice rising. “And what about what I want? Did you ever think that maybe I want to stay by your side? That maybe I want to help you? Did you even think to ask me before you made this grand decision all on your own?”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “No, I don’t owe you anything, but I want to do this! Don’t you see that? Do my feelings on this count for nothing?”

  His magnificent chiseled chest rose and fell in the dim lights. “Have you ever thought that maybe you haven’t thought this through? Do you know what staying by my side means? You’d be neglecting yourself, what you could do with your life, what you could accomplish. It would all be limited, everything.” />
  “And what if I want that?”

  “Why would you possibly want that?”

  “Because . . .” I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you! I almost said the words. Almost. Luckily, I stopped myself just in time. “Because you’re my best friend. That’s why. Isn’t it obvious I care about you?”

  He turned so fast it was a blur. One second he was facing me, the next he perched on the edge of my bed, his elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together. He sat there, staring at his hands, not saying anything. At least a full minute passed before he said, “You’re my best friend too.”

  His voice sounded quieter, less angry, more like the Davin I knew.

  Regardless, my heart still pounded. I’d almost told him how I felt, really felt, when it was so obvious now that was the worst idea ever. The past two weeks had shown that. He’d chosen to push me away versus giving us a chance.

  I wouldn’t forget that.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my racing heart. “So now that I’m in here do you promise to not shut me out?”

  He played with his thumbs, flicking them back and forth. The movement turned into a blur. I didn’t think he knew what he was doing. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

  He stood in another blurred move. “I should get back to my cell. Call me or Sara if you have another panic attack. I know what these walls can be like.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  9 – THE SANCTUM

  Garrett’s guard returned ten minutes later, telling me he was heading home and another guard was coming in. I felt a little sheepish when I met his gaze. He’d seen me at a low point. A vulnerable point, but he acted professionally and didn’t comment. Thankfully.

  Before Garrett’s guard left for the day, he ordered me breakfast. To pull my tray from the system in the wall and eat at the desk with the new guard watching my every move was surreal to say the least.

  It didn’t sink in until I was showering that I was living here, in the Sanctum, literally, for the next however long. That realization made me sink to the floor and wrap my arms around my knees. The water cascaded down on me, yet I barely felt it.