The Complete Makanza Series: Books 0-4

by Krista Street

  I bit my lip hard enough to make me wince. My eyes squeezed shut as the feeling of betrayal fired inside me. I didn’t want to know any more about Davin and his ex. I’d chosen to walk away from him four days ago. It hurt too much to stay in his life knowing he had chosen her over me.

  You have no choice but to move on now. You need to forget him.

  “Meghan? Is there any way I can talk you out of this?” My mother’s voice snapped me back to the present. Her arms rested against her sides, her disapproving expression in place.

  I shook my head. “Sorry, Mom. I’m going.”

  Her eyes dimmed, but she nodded.

  I was still trying to wrap my head around the change in my mother. For the past few days, she’d been attentive and caring. Considering the mother I’d grown up with had been as aloof and cool as the clouds above, I was still halfway convinced she’d become possessed or an alien had taken over her body.

  As I made a move to lift my bag, she rushed to my side and pushed my hand away. “At least let me carry your things.”

  The air rustled around her as she hoisted the long strap onto her shoulder. It dug into her thick sweater, but her head stayed high and her back straight. As always, my mother exuded poise and elegance. Even in jeans and a sweater, she looked immaculate. She’d always been that way. Growing up, nothing seemed to faze her.

  Before she could turn, I placed my hand over hers. It felt strange to touch her—we’d never touched or been affectionate in my family. But as strange as it felt, she didn’t pull back.

  “Thanks for your help this weekend, Mom. I’m sure I’ll be fine back at my apartment.”

  The tightening of her mouth was her only response before she nodded curtly and strode through my bedroom door.

  With a sigh, I followed her.

  The worn carpet in the hallway shuffled beneath my soles as we headed to the stairs. Jeremy’s empty bedroom lay across the hall. The door was closed. I knew if I opened it his room would be exactly as it had been seven years ago. Posters of rock bands on the wall. A navy blue comforter on the bed. Clothes strewn about the floor. A scarred desk with comic books in the corner.

  Neither of my parents had cleared out his room after he died. At this point, I figured they never would. In a way, I was glad. It was one of our only reminders of my dead brother.

  I stepped carefully down the stairway, my good hand holding tightly to the railing. Even though I’d been taking pain medicine regularly since leaving the hospital, certain movements still hurt.

  Snow danced outside the living room window when I finally reached the main floor. Since it was the beginning of winter, it was freezing out. I eyed my coat in the entryway. I wonder how long it will take to put that on.

  My mother slipped on her boots and opened the front door. “I’ll load your things in the car. Be right back.”

  A strong gust of cold air swirled inside. The wind blew long locks of brown hair around my face before she closed it.

  Lifting my good arm, I pulled down my winter jacket. Only a slight twinge of pain followed when I wrangled it on and pulled it over my shoulder. Even though my wound had started to heal, I was still weeks away from a full recovery. It was something my mother had constantly reminded me of during the past twenty-four hours—ever since Bethany, the Kazzie who could fly and wanted Makanza eradicated from her body showed up unannounced on our doorstep.

  Just as I slipped on my boots, my cell phone buzzed in my back pocket. Pulling it out, my heart stopped when I saw the caller.

  Davin.

  It was the third time he’d called today. So far, I deleted all of his messages and texts without listening to or reading them. My decision to move on meant accepting a life without him.

  Completely without him.

  Tapping the ignore button, my hand shook when I shoved my phone back into my pocket. Pain from the movement shot through my wound, eliciting a groan from me.

  Just as tears formed in my eyes, my dad rounded the corner. I hastily blinked them back.

  “Hey, kiddo. Where you headed?” With brown hair and brown eyes, my father looked like an older version of Jeremy. I imagined if my brother had survived, he would have been the spitting image of my dad.

  My cheeks heated when I gingerly zippered my jacket up. “Um . . . back to Sioux Falls.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Now? But I thought you were staying here for a few weeks. You know, until you get back on your feet.”

  I shrugged, not able to meet his gaze. “I was going to, but then . . .” With a firm pull, I got my hat on. “Well, you heard how upset Bethany was yesterday. I can’t leave her like that, and I’m not getting anything done down here.”

  My dad continued to frown as I wound a scarf around my neck. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “The Compound’s not going anywhere, Meg. You can go back to work in a few weeks.”

  I managed a smile. “You’re beginning to sound like Mom.”

  His eyes dimmed. “About that . . . You know she was really looking forward to you staying here.”

  I cocked my head and was about to respond when he said in a rush, “She’s been working really hard on a few things. You wouldn’t know since we see so little of you, but she’s been trying really hard to connect with people more. Ever since your brother died—” His words cut off as pain entered his eyes. And if I didn’t know better, tears did as well.

  I stood frozen as I stared up at my father. Reach for him, Meghan. Say something!

  But nothing happened. It was like I’d seized up.

  Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms again. “Anyway, she’s trying, Meg. She really is. And I think almost losing you last week has done something to her. I’ve never seen her cry like she has in the past few days.”

  “Mom? Cry?” The stunned word left my mouth just as the front door opened.

  My mother, in her faded winter jacket, eyed us curiously when she stepped into the entryway. Closing the door, she stomped the snow off her boots. “Bill, would you mind collecting the rest of Meghan’s things? She’d like to get on the road.”

  My dad pushed away from the wall. His frown stayed in place. “Sure thing.”

  I watched his retreating form as my mother and I stood awkwardly beside one another. For a moment, it felt like it used to. Stiff. Formal. The complete opposite of a warm, loving relationship.

  Clearing my throat, I said, “Maybe you and dad should come up to Sioux Falls to visit soon?”

  My mother’s eyes widened for the merest second before she tentatively smiled. “That would be nice.”

  My dad appeared a minute later. He helped me out the door while carrying my remaining bags. Together, he and my mother buckled me into my car, like I was a toddler being put to bed. They fussed around me. And while it was embarrassing, it was also kind of nice.

  Once again, I was reminded of what Davin had been telling me for months. My parents really did love me. It was simply our past that we had to overcome.

  The thought of Davin brought another stab of pain into my heart and, for the first time in four days, I questioned if I’d overreacted by jumping into the back of my parents’ car and speeding away before he could explain himself. But then I remembered the letters and the guilt on his face. Betrayal once again fired inside of me.

  Just forget him, Meghan.

  After awkwardly slipping on my mittens, I stared at my parents through my open window. Cold wind blew inside my car, but I didn’t make an attempt to roll the window up.

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

  My dad stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, kiddo. We’ll see you soon.”

  Clasping her hands in front of her, my mother addressed my dad. “Meghan has invited us to Sioux Falls. Perhaps we can join her next week for an outing?”

  My dad grinned. “Really? That would be great.”

  I finally waved goodbye as we all promised to see each other soon. Even though my dad hadn’t bothered to put on his jacket, they both
stood in the driveway watching me go until I rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

  It was only as I began the hour-long trek back to Sioux Falls that I felt Sara trying to make contact. We’d spoken every day since I’d left the hospital. Despite her being my best friend, I hadn’t told her what had happened between me and Davin. She didn’t even know about the letters I’d seen. No one did.

  The scratchy feeling filled the back of my mind, like a cat pawing a door open. It was soft and hesitant. Lately, Sara had been walking on eggshells around me.

  I opened up our telepathic link. Hi, sorry. Did I just give off a weird vibe?

  No, that’s not why I wanted to talk.

  Since the twin and I shared a telepathic connection, it was easy for us to get into contact with one another regardless of where we were. Sara and Sophie were currently living in Rapid City with Davin and his mother, Sharon. In other words, Sara had up-to-date information on everything Davin was doing.

  All I knew was that Davin had seen Jenna twice in the past few days when Jenna had stopped by their home.

  It was two times more than I wanted to know about.

  What’s up? I tried to sound casual as I drove down the neighborhood streets toward the interstate.

  Have you been crying again?

  Me? Crying? A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my mind and drifted to her. Why in the world would I be crying?

  Meghan . . . I could tell she wanted to broach the subject. The subject we’d both been carefully avoiding all weekend. I know how you feel about Davin.

  Sara—

  Let me finish. I’ve seen how you look at him, and I’ve seen how he looks at you. This is silly. Jenna doesn’t mean anything to him. Not anymore.

  Once again, self-doubt filled me as I questioned if I’d overreacted, but as always happened in my life—logic prevailed. Is that why she showed up at the hospital? How could she know that’s where he’d be unless he’d told her? They’d obviously been talking. He could have at least told me.

  Before Sara could respond, I added, And how do you know Jenna means nothing to him? You were at the hospital. You saw how he looked at her, and Davin’s free now. He’s finally free to live in public. He’s no longer a prisoner within Compound 26 or Reservation 1. He can do as he pleases, and he should. I want . . . My voice shook in my mind. I want him to be happy, and if Jenna makes him happy then . . .

  I couldn’t continue.

  I loved Davin more than anything, and I did want him to be happy. But the truth was, what I’d really wanted was for him to be happy with me.

  Yeah . . . She suddenly didn’t sound as convinced in her words. But you should see him right now. He’s a wreck.

  I bit my lip harder as snowflakes fell on the windshield. But you also said she’s been to their house twice in the past few days. Maybe he’s only a wreck because he feels guilty, not because I’m gone.

  Maybe, but . . . Ugh, Meghan. I just really don’t think that’s the reason. I wish you’d talk to him.

  The thought of talking to Davin made my breath catch.

  Sara sighed. The soft sound billowed through my mind like a summer breeze before she said, I’m still not convinced he wants her. I think her showing up at the hospital caught him off guard. And regardless of what you think, I don’t think Davin knew she was going to do that.

  Leaning back in the seat, I winced when my arm shifted. What I really needed now more than anything was to go for a run. Unfortunately, running was out of the question until I healed more.

  So how’s everything else going? How’s Sophie?

  I sensed Sara roll her eyes at my change in subject, but she acquiesced. She’s doing really well. For the first time in years, she’s laughed every day.

  A smile spread across my face when I accelerated onto the interstate. Dozens of other cars were also driving along I-29. Since the state borders had opened several months ago, it seemed every day more and more travelers emerged. That’s great to hear. Do you both plan on staying in South Dakota?

  Yeah, I think so. Since we don’t have anywhere to go, it seems like a good place to stay.

  And Sharon? How’s she?

  Worried about you. When did you last speak?

  Yesterday but briefly. My mom and I were heading out for my afternoon walk when she called.

  Speaking of that, how is your chest and arm?

  I put my blinker on before carefully swinging into the left lane to pass a car. Sore but fine. It’ll heal.

  And . . . Um, Dr. Roberts . . . Where’s he?

  Still locked up I’m assuming.

  Good. Let’s hope he stays there. Her chilled words blew across my mind.

  We kept up a steady stream of conversation during my drive. Sara spent most of it filling me in on Compound 26’s former Kazzies. Victor and Sage were currently living the bachelor life in Colorado. Dorothy had moved home to be with her son in southern California, and Garrett had returned to his home state of Michigan. She said they all asked about me regularly, especially since I’d been shot. Hearing about all of them helped fill the aching void in my chest.

  I pulled into my apartment’s parking lot a moment later. A groan of annoyance escaped me when I saw what waited.

  Half a dozen reporters were camped around the front door of my apartment building.

  What is it? Sara asked.

  The reporters. They’re still here. I had hoped they’d be gone by now. Since I hadn’t been home for over a week, I figured they’d have given up on constantly pressing me for statements. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to be letting up.

  Her breath sucked in. They’re at your parents’ house now?

  No, I’m at home. I just pulled into my apartment building’s parking lot.

  What? You’ve been driving to Sioux Falls the entire time we’ve been talking? But I thought you were staying in Vermillion until you got better?

  I sank lower in my seat so the reporters wouldn’t see me. I was going to but plans changed. Sara already knew that Bethany had come to my parents’ house yesterday, but Sara didn’t know I’d decided to return to work so soon.

  Once I finished explaining, her disapproval flashed through our connection. Bad idea, Meg. You’re hardly ready to work. You were just shot!

  I grumbled. Are you really going to give me a hard time too?

  She sighed. Sorry. No, I just . . . Never mind. But anyway, back to these reporters. Have they spotted you?

  Not yet. Otherwise, they’d be swarming my vehicle.

  What if you talk to them? Will they go away if you do?

  I groaned. No. I tried that before, but they just keep coming up with more questions and never leave. You’d think one statement would be enough, but as soon as something new happens with the Kazzies, they start harassing me all over again.

  She made a disgusted sound. Is there a back door, or somewhere else you can sneak in?

  I unclicked my seatbelt and carefully maneuvered my injured arm. Yes, there’s a door on the west side. Hopefully, they won’t see me when I get out. I sighed and grumbled. Are they ever going to lose interest?

  Sooner or later they will, but since you’re the poster child for the movement to free us, you’re their favorite target. And since you were also shot by the former Director of Reservation 1, you’re the most exciting thing that’s happened in this country since the vaccine.

  Don’t remind me.

  We shut down our connection with promises to talk soon.

  With a deep breath, I contemplated how to carry my bags while also getting around the reporters. Thankfully, since I’d parked in the far corner of the parking lot, they still hadn’t spotted me.

  Opening my door as quietly as possible, I snuck around to the trunk and grabbed my purse and laptop only. I’d have to retrieve my larger bags later.

  Pulling my hood up, I kept my face down as I walked to the back door. Just as I was about to round the corner of my apartment building, a shout came from behind me.

  “The
re she is!”

  My heart raced wildly as I hurried to the door, but given my injury, I didn’t stand a chance at beating them. By the time I grasped the door handle, I was surrounded by six reporters. Microphones were shoved in my face as questions were fired at me like bullets from a machine gun.

  “Have you heard the stories circulating around the country about those exposed?”

  “What made Dr. Roberts shoot you? Did you do something to provoke him?”

  “Senator Douglas is claiming that someone’s gravely ill after being exposed to Makanza. What do you have to say about that?”

  Pain burned in my chest when I yanked the door open. Since my apartment building was private property, the reporters couldn’t step inside. It didn’t stop them from blocking my way. Another twinge of pain traveled down my arm as I pushed past a reporter.

  He muttered an angry reply, and I shot him a dirty look. Of course, the camera swung on me just as I did and caught my glare.

  It was only as the door started to close behind me, that I heard what they were saying.

  People are sick.

  My stomach plummeted as I raced to the stairwell.

  By the time I climbed the steps and reached my apartment door, my wound felt on fire. It was only when I locked myself safely inside my tiny apartment that I slumped to the floor. Tears threatened to pour down my cheeks, but I held them back.

  It was inevitable that some people would become sick after being exposed to Makanza. It didn’t mean anything in the long run. So far, nobody had died or Changed after being exposed to the virus, and becoming ill for a short period of time was to be expected in some people.