The Complete Makanza Series: Books 0-4

by Krista Street

  I’d been gravely sick for five days when I’d been exposed. Still, people were paranoid. And more than a few believed the vaccine didn’t work.

  In a week, it will be better. They’ll have gone through the stages and then they’ll know that the vaccine is effective.

  I closed my eyes. Shouts from the reporters carried faintly through my living room window. The accusations burned my eardrums. Pulling out my phone, I debated calling the police.

  I nibbled my lip. Calling the police could backfire since it could draw more attention to me. I tapped the screen.

  My breath sucked in.

  A voicemail from Davin waited.

  All thoughts of phoning the cops vanished.

  My finger hovered above the screen. So far, I’d deleted all of his messages. But that nagging doubt again bit at my conscience like an annoying lap dog that constantly nipped at one’s heels.

  Maybe Sara’s right. Maybe I should hear him out.

  What I needed right now more than anything was his calm voice and steady reassurances. Drawing my eyebrows together, I knew what I was about to do wasn’t wise, but if I thought too much about it, I’d change my mind.

  Tapping my phone with a shaky finger, I brought his voicemail to my ear.

  2 – BACK TO WORK

  The deep sound of his voice rolled over me. It was such a familiar, comforting sound. “Meghan, I’m sorry.” He paused, as if trying to find the words. “Like I’ve been saying, I didn’t know Jenna would show up like that. I can tell her being back in my life upset you—”

  I snatched the phone from my ear and hastily hit the delete button.

  Unsteady breaths made my chest rise and fall. The familiar panic tightened like a vise around me.

  My hands shook as I stared at my phone. Jenna’s back in his life. It’s official. She’s back in his life.

  I dropped the phone at my side. It clattered to the floor. The sound filled my quiet apartment as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut.

  For months, before the Kazzies were released, I’d been fighting to free Davin and my friends from Reservation 1. I’d given them my heart and soul. I’d dedicated my life to saving and freeing them. And Davin had made me think he’d do the same for me.

  Instead, he’d been talking to Jenna the entire time. He’d been planning to meet her while knowing she had romantic interests in him.

  But he thought you were with Mitch when he’d written Jenna letters. He thought you’d moved on and that he’d never see you again.

  Logic once again threatened to diminish the aching sense of betrayal that coursed through my veins.

  For a moment, I kept my eyes closed and pretended that everything was okay. I pretended that Davin and I loved each other. I pretended that nothing would ever come between us. I pretended that he was sitting right beside me, his comforting presence like a looming weight of loyalty and love.

  But then I remembered what pretending had done to me before.

  I snapped my eyes open.

  For many years, I’d pretended that my dead brother was alive. When times were too tough for me to handle things on my own, I’d pretend that Jeremy was sitting in my apartment. I’d have a conversation with him as if he were actually here—living and breathing. It was how I’d dealt with things since I didn’t have anyone to turn to.

  But I wasn’t going back to that.

  I’d worked too hard to overcome it. You’re stronger now, Meghan. You’ve learned how to stand on your own two feet. Don’t let that go.

  Pushing up awkwardly from the floor, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and reached for my purse. My wound throbbed. Pulling pain medicine out, I downed a few pills before padding gingerly to my bedroom to change and get ready for bed. It was already evening, and tomorrow would be a big day.

  THE NEXT DAY my alarm went off at five. I’d promised Bethany that I’d meet her at Compound 26 this morning to begin tests. With any luck, it would help me and my colleagues better understand Bethany’s unique physiology and how Makanza affected her.

  Since Bethany was staying with a friend in Sioux Falls, she wouldn’t have to travel far. Whoever accompanied her had to be a good friend. They’d traveled all the way from Minneapolis.

  Thirty minutes later, as I was awkwardly brushing my damp hair, my cell phone rang. Knowing it could be Davin, my heart rate picked up. With trepid steps, I walked to my bedroom. My cell phone waited face down on the nightstand.

  I turned my phone over and sighed in relief when I saw my co-worker’s name on the screen.

  Tapping the answer button, I brought the phone to my ear. “Hi, Amy.”

  “Hey, Meg. I hear you’re coming in with a Kazzie today.” Her voice sounded scratchy, as if she’d just woken up.

  I shook my head. “How is it that news travels so quickly through the Makanza Research Institute?”

  Amy cleared her throat. “Oh, you know how it is. It’s like we’re a bunch of old gossiping ladies. The latest I heard is that a Kazzie with strain 15 turned up on your parents’ doorstep asking you for help. Is that true?”

  “Yes. It was Bethany, one of the Kazzies from Minnesota. She’s hoping we can find a cure.”

  “A cure? A vaccine isn’t enough?”

  I sat down on my bed. The mattress sank beneath me. “She doesn’t want to be a Kazzie anymore. You should’ve seen her, Amy. She’s devastated. She doesn’t want to live with the Changes the virus has made within her.”

  “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. It probably isn’t helping that they’re being harassed. Did you hear that latest news story from Colorado?”

  My stomach tightened. “I heard. Some guy with strain 13 had rocks thrown at him while he was walking in his neighborhood, right?”

  “That’s the one. Too bad there weren’t any glass buildings nearby. Then he could have climbed away with his suction-cup hands.”

  Since strain 13 created suction-like appendages on a Kazzie’s hands and feet, he could have easily scampered away in the right setting.

  “It makes me sick what those hecklers are doing.” Amy muttered a sound of disgust. “But anyway, how’s your arm?”

  “Getting better.” I lifted my shirt and peeked at the wound. I’d just put a fresh bandage on after my shower. Only a little spot of blood oozed through it.

  “I can’t believe you’re already coming back to work.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You sound like my mother.”

  “Well, she has a point. You were shot a week ago. Dr. Sadowsky would be more than willing to give you the month off.”

  “I know, but there’s work to do.”

  Amy clucked her tongue. “I’d argue, but I know better.”

  “Are Mitch and Charlie working today too?” I asked hopefully.

  “As far as I know.” Amy yawned. “So I just got out of bed, but I’m guessing you’ve been up for a few hours by now. Are you about to head into work?”

  “How did you guess?”

  Amy chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know. Just this hunch I had, since you’ve beaten everybody into the Compound for the last year.”

  I smiled. “I’ll see you in the lab?”

  “Yeah, see you in a few hours.”

  GETTING TO MY car was easy at six in the morning. Apparently, the reporters were still asleep. It helped that it was dark out. Since it was the beginning of January, the long nights allowed me to scurry undetected to my vehicle.

  Ten minutes later, I was merging onto the interstate and mulling over how we could develop a cure. There had been progress with other viruses. It was possible we could do something similar. Hepatitis C anti-viral drugs had been developed years ago. Those drugs targeted the proteins that helped the virus grow and spread. Or we could pursue a protease-inhibiting drug, similar to the ones used to control HIV. It was possible a similar strategy would work for Makanza. However, those types of anti-viral drugs were notoriously unreliable.

  The Compound’s exit sign flashed by the window and stopped my brainstorming. The cloc
k on the dash read 6:24 a.m. Bethany was due to arrive at the gates just after eight which gave me plenty of time to get settled in before she arrived.

  Compound 26 grew steadily larger as I drove along the access road. It looked like a dark mound on the horizon. The sun still hadn’t risen, but the full moon illuminated the grounds. Vast rolling prairie spread out from the giant structure for miles.

  A solid walled perimeter, that appeared black at night, stretched around the massive enclosure. The wall was at least twenty feet high, maybe taller. Over a year ago, when I’d first started working for the Compound, that wall had been incredibly intimidating. Now, I didn’t look at it twice.

  My brakes squeaked when I reached the main gates. Only a few other cars were being admitted.

  Twenty minutes later, my car was parked, and I was walking slowly toward north door 64. Winter wind bit into my cheeks, like a thousand frozen needles. I’d left my sling at home. Consequently, my arm dangled freely, but it was better than all of the attention the sling would garner.

  As usual, Private Williams was on duty when I finally reached my wing. The young guard’s husky frame and thick muscled arms were swallowed in a parka. The bulky coat made him look even bigger than usual while he held his assault rifle.

  In a way, it was strange to be entering Compound 26 again. The last time I’d walked through my admittance door was before the Kazzies were freed. Before I’d driven to Reservation 1 with plans to welcome my friends to freedom. Before I’d been shot.

  Before I’d left Davin behind.

  My breath stopped.

  Pulling out my bottle of pain meds, I dry swallowed two pills as I gingerly stepped in to the quiet reception area. It was so early not even, Carol, our wing’s secretary was here.

  Several times while walking down the vast hallways toward my office, I had to stop when moving hurt too much. It didn’t help that I carried my purse and laptop. I hated to think that my mother was right. That I was pushing myself too hard and that I shouldn’t be here.

  I’ll be fine. The pain meds just need to kick in more and then I can get back to work.

  But by the time I reached my office and peeked under my shirt again, fresh blood seeped through my bandage. I closed my office door behind me before sitting down on my desk chair. With a grimace, I gently pulled the tape back and inspected the bullet wound.

  The tissue was healing, and I didn’t see any signs of infection. However, I must have done something too strenuous this morning. The fragile skin had torn. Fresh blood oozed from one corner.

  My mother would be irate if she saw this.

  Frowning, I counted the additional bandages I’d packed in my purse. Three. Only three. I should have brought more. Carefully pulling one out, I applied it after throwing the soiled one away.

  Biting my lip, I debated my options. If my wound kept bleeding like this, I’d most likely have to find Dr. Fisher and have him dress it more securely. My brow furrowed at that thought. Thinking of the Compound’s lead physician only reminded me of what happened last summer.

  Something I still often thought about.

  Before I’d been exposed to Makanza, Davin had gone into a catatonic state. On that fateful day, he’d been unresponsive for four hours. It was only when I’d ventured into his cell, removed my biohazard suit, and touched his skin, that he’d snapped out of it.

  Following that, he’d been put through a plethora of tests. Dr. Fisher had worked with him extensively to try and uncover what had caused that strange medical phenomenon.

  To this day, I didn’t know. I knew Davin and Dr. Fisher had discovered something since Davin had visited regularly with the Compound’s lead physician following that episode. However, Davin would never tell me what they talked about. He’d always been cagey and secretive whenever I’d brought it up.

  And now, I may never know.

  I checked my phone, almost hopeful that I’d see another message from him. I knew it was silly. Davin had made multiple attempts to contact me since I’d left Reservation 1’s hospital. It was me stopping us from talking, so I didn’t know why I was checking to see if he’d called.

  Old habits die hard, I suppose.

  As memories of Davin’s betrayal, that strange catatonic state he’d been in last summer, and everything else that had transpired between us during the past few months turned over in my mind, pain once again welled up inside me.

  Pain that had nothing to do with my injury.

  “Better get to work, Meghan,” I whispered. I placed my purse in my desk drawer before turning on my laptop.

  My computer had just fired to life when a knock sounded on my door. Startled, I glanced up just as a muffled voice said, “Megs? Is that you in there?”

  The deep voice and nickname my co-worker had given me could only come from one person.

  “Yeah, Mitch, it’s me. Come on in.”

  Mitch opened my office door and strolled inside. He hadn’t changed in the weeks since I’d seen him. At six-four, he towered over most people. His large, intimidating build had made me nervous the first time we’d met, but Mitch was a good guy. Even though he dabbled in the black market, and didn’t seem to mind engaging in illegal activities, he wouldn’t hurt anybody.

  I smiled. “Good morning.”

  Sitting down on the chair opposite from me, he clasped his hands in his lap. Cornflower blue eyes met mine as shaggy blond hair fell across his forehead. “Morning to you too. How’s your injury? I couldn’t believe it when Amy told me you were coming into work today.”

  My hand automatically went to my wound. The bandage felt puffy under my shirt. “I’m fine.”

  His brow furrowed, and I could tell he was about to say something else regarding my injury, so I quickly changed the subject. “You’ve shaved.”

  Mitch rubbed his smooth cheeks. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to shave in the middle of winter. I obviously didn’t think that one through.” He winked.

  I chuckled and then gazed at his t-shirt. As usual, he wore a typical, comedic tee. Dear algebra, stop asking me to find your X. She’s not coming back.

  “Are you still buying your t-shirts on the black market?”

  He leaned back and cradled his head in his clasped hands. “Nope, this one was completely legal. I bought it on a trip to Colorado.”

  “Colorado? When did you go there?”

  “Over the weekend. I’ve become a weekend warrior.”

  I settled back on my chair. Thankfully, the pain in my wound was diminishing. I figured the pain meds were starting to kick in. “What did you do there?”

  He shrugged. “The usual. Stayed in a cheap motel and took in the surroundings. They have some great restaurants in Boulder. You should check it out sometime.”

  “You’re right, I should.”

  A curious gleam grew in Mitch’s eyes. “So I hear a Kazzie showed up on your doorstep the other day. And she’s coming in this morning?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m assuming Amy told you that?”

  “Of course, she knows more about what’s happening in the MRI than anybody. So it’s true?”

  “Yes. Bethany, the Kazzie from Minnesota with strain 15, came to my parents’ house the other day. She begged me to help her. She’s hoping we can find a cure.”

  The gleam in Mitch’s eyes grew. “So the rumors are true. I figured this would happen sooner or later, especially now that they’re free.”

  “Were you in Colorado when that Kazzie was harassed?”

  Mitch nodded. “Yeah, but it happened in Denver so I didn’t see anything.” He sneered. “The damn public is still afraid they’re gonna die from Makanza. But it’s only a matter of time, and they’ll see that there’s nothing to fear. Things should be all right then.”

  “I think Bethany’s concern isn’t the public, but more that she doesn’t want to live with her Changes.” Given that her bat-like wings were impossible to hide, I understood her desperation.

  Mi
tch raised his eyebrows. “And if we can’t find a cure? Then what?”

  “I suppose there’s always plastic surgery. My plan was to have Dr. Fisher examine her this morning to see if surgical intervention could help her appear normal. Of course, a cure would be ideal, but I also know we may never develop one or it could be years before we do.”

  “We managed to develop a vaccine in months, why not a cure?”

  I smiled. “You’re right. Why not in a few months?”

  Mitch and I fell into conversation about how we could do that. It was only as we stood to grab a cup of coffee that my office phone rang.

  Carol’s voice breezed through the connection when I picked up. “Dr. Forester, there’s a woman here to see you. I believe you’re expecting her?”

  My eyes darted to the clock. It was only 7:30. Bethany was early. “Yes, I’ll be right down.” With a shaky hand, I hung up and met Mitch’s gaze. “She’s here.”

  3 – BETHANY

  I entered the lobby alone. Given how shy Bethany was around strangers, I’d asked Mitch to wait in the lab.

  Carol smiled politely from behind the reception desk when I passed her on my way to our visitors. As usual, Carol’s hair was pulled back neatly. Pearl earrings adorned her ears. Everything about her screamed order and efficiency.

  My feet tapped on the floor as I approached Bethany. The Kazzie was trembling. As before, a cloak draped over her shoulders, hiding her bat-like wings. From her fearful eyes and folded posture, I felt certain that being within a Compound brought back painful memories.

  A woman stood beside her who I assumed was her friend from Minneapolis. She appeared heavily pregnant and clutched Bethany’s hand tightly as she gazed around, her eyes wide with awe.

  I wondered if she knew that she was the first civilian to be admitted within these walls in ten years.

  “Bethany.” I called the Kazzie’s name as I approached. My pace was fast. Too fast. Pain once again fired through my chest and arm. Forcing myself to keep walking normally, I bit my lip tightly so I wouldn’t wince when I reached her side.