Fractured Refuge
Page 1
Fractured Refuge
Annabelle McInnes
www.escapepublishing.com.au
Fractured Refuge
Annabelle McInnes
They thought they’d found a refuge, but the battle for survival has only just begun...
The second book in the Refuge Trilogy.
Surrounded by the destruction of the human race, Euan, Nick, and Kira find solace in one another, making their underground bunker a haven and a home. Sheltered under layers of steel and cement, they should be safe, but danger isn’t always kept outside – sometimes the enemy is within.
When their electronic warning system detects intruders, Euan and Nick must investigate. Outside, they discover the true terror that is approaching, and Euan must make a terrible decision: stay or go. To stay is to watch the only people he loves perish under the weight of pure evil. To leave is to face his certain death to protect them and potentially save humankind.
Despite all his preparation, skills, and strength, Euan knows that each decision carries the risk that he could destroy them all.
About the author
From the age of sixteen, Annabelle lived in a youth refuge while she remained committed to her education. She spent two years within a section of humanity that society overlooks.
Her experiences are the foundations that drive her stories and her characters. They fight for their freedoms, have courage in the face of adversity and will, ultimately, always aspire for greatness.
Annabelle is privileged to spend her time writing with a backdrop of Canberra’s iconic landmarks and admiring its distinct and captivating change of seasons. Outside of her love for reading, she spends every free moment with her husband, son and her poodle named Serendipity. She drinks her whisky neat and is known to scour the local markets in an attempt to find the best blue cheese available.
Follow Annabelle on Twitter @akmcinnes, Instagram @annabellemcinnes and Facebook @authorannabellemcinnes. Sign up for her newsletter at annabellemcinnes.com.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank the attendees at Fiona McIntosh’s Autumn 2017 Masterclass. Your constant support, encouragement and feedback was fundamental in finishing the final draft of this manuscript. Thank you once again to the team of editors, artists and marketers at Escape Publishing who turned words on a page into something magnificent. Thank you to my Mother in Law, Kay McInnes, who has encouraged me, loved me, and supported me throughout this journey. She is an inspiration. Finally, thank you my husband. My writing life is consuming, but it is meaningless without you by my side. You are my refuge, always and forever.
Dedication
To those who know themselves. The journey you take is yours alone. Stay true.
Contents
About the author
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing...
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
The room was filled with the pungent scent of fried eggs and coffee. The air was warm. The climate-control system working at full capacity to eradicate the chill from an encroaching winter. Dishes were stacked high, men’s socks were squashed in odd corners and a pair of faded pink slippers lay discarded by an open doorway.
Euan lifted a ceramic mug that was glazed with dandelions in colours of gold, green and blue. He took a sip of the scorching beverage and ran his tongue over the burn to his upper lip. The sting was good; the bitter taste of the brew was better.
His gaze wandered. Steel beige walls were covered in artworks. Landscapes painted with muted oils, portraits formulated in lead. Images that captured the essence of life, the allure of the sky, the wonders of the spirit, the magic of dreams. Most made by his reluctant hand.
A single photograph was centred between the amateur drawings. Its position of significance was no accident. Two children grinned at the camera. Their arms were wrapped around each other’s shoulder. Smiles as bright as the sunshine filtered through their blond hair and glinted off their identical blue eyes. Two beautiful children, unaware of what their future would hold.
Two beautiful children who were full of hope, full of dreams, full of love and life.
Two beautiful children. One brother, one sister.
As adults, the two children would witness the end of the civilised world.
The mahogany chair groaned under Euan’s weight. The hardwood supported his spine as he leant back against the dark timber and stretched his long legs under the coordinating dining table. His bare foot knocked his companion’s. They shared a small smile as their skin touched and a spark of fire raced through their nerve endings. Nick bumped his eyebrows suggestively. Euan’s lips kicked up higher in response.
The food that he had just consumed nourished his body as effectively as the steel hull of the underground bunker protected those he cherished. Surrounded by strength, wrapped in love, the smile remained on his lips. It was kin to the grin that was emulated by those two children. He relished a moment of untainted satisfaction. A glorious bliss that bloomed in his sternum and radiated out through his muscles and into his limbs, his fingers, his toes.
It was beautiful. This was beautiful.
He sighed, content.
Kira’s voice broke the comfortable silence. ‘Is that coffee finished?’
His hand remained aloft. He held his breath in his lungs. His gaze moved from Nick to focus on the petite blonde woman who sat rigidly on the edge of her seat to his left. The hum of the ventilation system became the only sound in the underground room.
Across from him, Nick reached out and grasped the handle of his mug. His features were tight with trepidation. The muscles around his green eyes were firm as he lifted a twin to Euan’s mug from where it rested innocuously in the middle of the mahogany table. His shoulders were tense as he tilted his head to look inside.
His chin lifted and met Kira’s gaze. ‘Yes?’
The amiable atmosphere in the room plummeted. Euan let his breath ease out of his chest. He took a cautious sip.
Kira pursed her lips. A furrow deepened between her blonde brows. Her knee began to bounce with the rhythm of exaggerated irritation. The collar of the pale yellow t-shirt she wore was frayed, stretched, warped. Much like the building tension in the room. Euan bit back a sigh.
Her question was directed at Nick. ‘And you’re just going to leave it there?’
Nick’s nervous swallow was audible. His gaze flickered between a growing adversary and an inanimate object. He touched his tongue to his upper lip, raked his fingers through his hair and stared at the lesser of the two threats. His frustration increased, his irritability brewing beneath the surface. Nick’s predisposition was to please, to entertain, to love. But every man had his kryptonite. Being trapped underground, waiting for death’s scythe to slice his soul from his body would cause even the greatest man to falter. Nick was no deity in that sense.
Neither was Euan. They were simply two men, two men desperate to please a woman deteriorating before their eyes.
Nick’s inflection was
an insight into his dread. ‘No?’
Euan cocked his jaw. He placed his own mug carefully on the table. The tension shifted into distress. He could taste it. The arid bite of anguish that eroded the sweetness he’d felt only moments ago. The switch had been flicked. They could not go back.
Kira’s tone was no longer honeyed. The pleasant mask she had locked to her face had dissolved. Her true emotions were now visible. They were stark, bleak and angry.
‘Then why is it there?’ she asked, her voice and lips tight.
Nick’s wary gaze shot to Euan. There was a non-verbal plea for support that flashed in his jade-green depths. Euan conveyed the eminent danger with a glance. Nick clenched his hands into fists in response.
This was it. The inevitable. Euan placed both palms on the table, his fingers outstretched. It was no more than an hour after dawn, and they were already past the point of intervention.
Above the earth, the steel, the concrete the world was waking to another day of dystopian anarchy. Another day of struggle, of fighting off death’s claws in an attempt to win against the impossible, even with the knowledge that the battle would begin again with each rise of the sun. It was another day to carry the grief of loss, of solitude, of the burden of a terrible awareness; ninety-five per cent of the world’s population had succumbed to a plague.
Another day of an encroaching understanding that along with the masses, the female half of the race were almost extinct, and that in turn, so was the species.
The liability of all meant that with each dawn, the contest with death became tougher to win.
Euan held back a curse. They were not immune to the invading darkness. As he took another deep breath, he waited for the savagery of resentment to overwhelm them.
‘I see your lips twitching, Euan. This is not funny.’
Euan nodded solemnly. He kept his features impassive. The maelstrom of hostility that swirled around them was mere moments from combustion. It was most certainly not funny.
‘You’re right,’ he told her. His was tone neutral with no infliction or accusation. ‘I’ll take the cup to the sink.’
‘No you will not. It’s Nick’s cup, he’ll take it to the sink,’ she paused for dramatic effect. ‘Where it belongs.’
Nick jerked, began to rise to his feet. ‘But I only just finished—’
‘Don’t, Nick—’ Euan attempted to intervene, to protect Nick from the stew of emotions that brew around them. It was a braise of viciousness that had nothing to do with the cup, where it sat, or Nick.
But it was too late.
Kira stood. Her entire body was strung tight. She quivered with frustration. Her throat worked as she swallowed the overflow of emotions. The cotton across her breasts stretched tight as she inhaled. The jeans sat snugly on her hips. Nick’s cooking had been a boon to them all. Euan’s gaze didn’t linger on the distraction.
Nick drew in a deep breath. His shoulders relaxed as he made an effort to wrench them from the edge. He sat back down and threw one defined arm over the backrest of his chair. His bare chest beckoned fingers to touch, to linger, but the granite in his eyes warned of reckoning if the thought was exercised. A tight smile stretched across his face as he attempted to diffuse the bomb. ‘Baby, sit down. Come over here. I’ll put the cup away in a minute.’ His smile was forced into a wicked grin. ‘When I’m finished with you.’
Kira narrowed her eyes further. The blue flashed cobalt fire. ‘Don’t you try and distract me, Nicholas Sutherland. I’ve had enough of your diversions.’
Nick laughed spitefully. His own frustrations bubbled towards the surface. ‘You’ve had enough of my distractions, hey?’ he mocked. His gaze turned lecherous. ‘You don’t like me cooking for you? Protecting you? Giving you everything you want?’
The room was saturated with enmity now. It was a weight that was as visceral as a living being. An animal that prowled their sanctuary. It exacerbated their anxieties and discord. It infiltrated the corners and bellowed silent taunts to fuel Kira’s heightened vexations. Euan had no power against the beast. Its den lay inside Kira’s head, and he was yet to understand how to unlock the cage.
At first, the fragmentation was finite and if he hadn’t been confined with her, he may have missed it. But he didn’t. Her lush lips hardened. One cheek hollowed as she bit the inside. Her spine straightened, her chin lowered.
Euan braced.
It quickly deteriorated. Before them, Kira split fully apart. The limited hold she had on her anger snapped. She threw herself in Nick’s direction. Her body ready for attack. Her eyes spat sharpened daggers. Her hands were curled into tiny fists.
Euan launched himself out of his seat. The wooden chair clattered to the floor in his haste. His strength sent the dining table skidding along the taupe carpet. He ignored the spilt liquid, the shards of ceramic, and a startled yelp that came from Nick. His long legs ate up the distance.
He reached her mid-flight.
His large hands caught her, thwarted her trajectory as he gripped her hard biceps and pulled her close.
Her body crashed against his. She was an enraged bundle of sharp elbows, angry claws and snapping teeth.
‘Let me go!’ she spat. ‘I’m going to murder him!’
‘Easy, sweetheart,’ he crooned, while he turned her in his arms to face him. He captured her wrists against his chest to prevent any further damage to his unclothed skin. ‘I know things are difficult. We’re all on a knife’s edge. I’ll deal with Nick. How about you go take a shower?’
Kira wrenched herself from Euan’s arms and took the steps needed to avoid his long reach. Her body trembled. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Her hands were clenched at her side in righteous fury. Crystal glass shredded him to pieces. ‘I don’t want to take a shower! I don’t want to do the dishes. I don’t want—’ she blushed, despite her anger. ‘For Nick to do what he does.’
‘Sweetheart—’ Euan interjected.
Kira carried on, despite his interruption. ‘I want to go outside,’ she implored. Desperation laced her voice.
‘I know you do. But I can’t let that happen,’ he told her. His heart cracked at the despair that emanated from her.
‘It’s been almost two months, Euan,’ her voice broke. ‘Please? I … I just need to see the sun.’
Euan swallowed the despondency that swirled inside him. ‘It’s not safe.’
‘You always say that.’ she whispered. She turned from him. Her jaw granite as she held her tears at bay.
He did. Because it was true. It wasn’t safe, not for him or Nick, but especially not for her. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart.’
She hiccupped. ‘No, you’re not.’
Euan sighed heavily. Nick moved in his periphery; a look of equal distress marked his features.
His chest was tight. He reached out towards Kira, but she avoided his grasp. ‘I am. We are. I’d do anything for you, we both would. You know that. Except let you aboveground.’
Kira’s body trembled. It was a vibration that rippled through her from the tangled mass of white-blonde hair to her unpolished toenails. Her voice was hoarse as she held back her emotions ‘I’m going to die down here, like this. I need the sun, fresh air.’
Euan swallowed again. A knot formed in his throat from his feelings of inadequacy. ‘Maybe soon.’
Kira tilted her head towards the low beige ceiling. Her pale hair fell down her spine. ‘Soon isn’t soon enough.’
Her anguish was a physical blow to his sternum. He took in a deep breath, let it out slowly. He held out his hand. ‘What else can I do for you?’
She shook her head. Her tears escaped her iron hold and dribbled down her temples.
He gave Nick a nod, permission to clean the mess and right the furniture. The man’s gaze was solemn. His lips were tight. He moved in silence, and was careful to avoid the woman who emanated so many conflicting emotions. Overwhelming anger, heart-shattering despair …
This was becoming an impossible stalemate.
Euan’s bare feet were silent as he took the few steps to reach her. The physical closeness. The constant vigilance. The ever-present feeling of dread. The anticipation of an early, violent death formed a tension between the three of them that was impossible to escape. It drew tighter every day. It curled and wound its way around already ragged emotions, tempers and anxieties. It was inevitable that they come this point.
In hindsight, Euan was surprised it hadn’t combusted sooner.
He stood behind her. Her sweet, unpolluted, natural feminine scent wrapped around him like a familiar blanket. It gave him strength despite the circumstances. His height towered over her petite frame. Her face was still tilted skyward as if she truly relished the sun on her skin. Her eyes were closed, her expressive crystal glass hidden from his probing. Her cheeks were pale, like the rest of her, the bronze hue long lost to the florescent lighting.
‘I can’t live like this,’ she whispered. Her lips trembled.
His gut soured.
***
Despite her volatility, Kira leant back against his body. He let out a sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around her upper torso. The heat of her skin warmed his exposed forearms, his bare chest. It nourished him as though it were the eggs he’d consumed that morning. He ignored the fragility of her form and focused on the strength of her heart, the courage that resided in her soul. Her beautiful, precious, resilient soul.
‘I know, sweetheart. I’ll come up with a solution,’ he promised.
He would. Because they could not live like this. Not even him. They were all but trapped underground. They were constantly terrified for their lives, for each other’s lives. He tightened his hold on the cherished woman in his arms.
His gaze shifted to Nick. He had finished his task and he now rested his ass over the lip of the kitchen’s faux-golden marble-laminate benchtop that ran along the wall. Behind him, the sink showed the remains of their breakfast. The scent of fried onion lingered in the air. His stance was casual, but his knuckles were white where he gripped the edge. When their eyes met, his brow furrowed and the corners of his lips firmed.