Sanctuary's Aggression Complete Collection Box Set: A Post-apocalyptic Survival Thriller Series

by Maira Dawn

  Skye patted her still full stomach and smiled. The pleasant evening had been a welcome relief after the last couple of days. She was fortunate to have friends and family left, many probably didn’t.

  Skye sighed and turned to her side. She needed to call her dad, that was one reason she wanted to come to here. Skye bit the inside of her cheek. It was also something she found increasingly difficult to do. The small knot in the pit of her stomach had wound tighter and tighter throughout the day.

  One worry after another flooded her mind. Tom’s news told how dangerous the cities were becoming. Even if her family survived the disease, would they survive the chaos?

  If yesterday taught her anything, it was that she couldn't get to her family no matter how much she wanted to do so. Good or bad, I have to know how they’re doing. I refused the think about the whole situation today, but I need to call as soon as I can tomorrow.

  Skye closed her eyes, but her worries didn’t allow sleep. She turned to her other side. It was too quiet. Used to the noises men and boys made in their sleep, the silence was overwhelming.

  Skye rolled her eyes. She should be glad to get away from it for one night. But the sounds had stopped being an irritation a long time ago. They meant Wade and Dylan were near and that meant safety.

  Skye huffed at her insecurity but stopped herself. There were certainly enough valid reasons for unease right now. She rose, wrapped a blanket around her, and tucking a pillow under her arm, she tip-toed down the stairs.

  Wade and Jesse were deep in snoring slumber as they lay on the floor, but Dylan sat up, his head leaning against the back of the couch. He raised his head as soon as he saw her.

  Skye stopped in the living room’s doorway. For a minute, she stared at Dylan across the darkened room. Her anxiety eased.

  Dylan nodded Skye toward the empty recliner that was beside the couch he sat on. He knew why she was here. She went to it and slid onto the seat, then raised the footrest.

  Skye turned toward Dylan. He stared at her, his eyes direct, intense. Her gaze fluttered to the ground, then back to him. She didn’t look away again until a slow smile curved the side of Dylan’s mouth. She pinked a bit and smiled back. Then Skye arranged her blanket and closed her eyes.

  The couch springs squeaked as Dylan lay down. His quiet breathing soon turned to a comforting, soft snore. It lulled Skye to sleep.

  Thirty-Three

  Dad

  The next morning after a big country breakfast, Skye could wait no longer. With a stomach already trying to reject the food it just devoured, she asked Tom for the use of his phone. Praying both that she would get through and that the phones wouldn’t work, she dialed her father's number.

  Skye's breath caught with the first ring. She turned her frightened gaze to Tricia, who hurried to her side. Skye put a hand on her thumping heart as she waited for someone to answer. On the fifth ring, there was a click.

  "Hello?" said Charlotte. Skye mouthed to Tricia that it was her sister-in-law.

  "Charlotte? It's Skye."

  "Skye! I'm so glad you got through." Relief was unmistakable in Charlotte's voice. "I was just going."

  "Going? Going where?" Panic made Skye's tone sharper than she intended. She clenched the phone tighter.

  Charlotte’s voice clogged with emotion. ”Skye, honey, I took your dad to the hospital yesterday. I'm so sorry. It—it came on so fast. He didn't make it. He passed away a few hours later.“

  Skye was numb except for the sharp prickles that waved up and down her arms. She wasn’t hearing right. It couldn’t be. A sharp pain shot through her.

  A whisper at first, then a shout, “Daddy, no. No!" Tricia put her arms around Skye and she grabbed onto her.

  Charlotte did what she could to reassure Skye. ”Your dad didn't suffer. I was with him the whole time. It wasn't the AgFlu. It was his heart. We made sure he was as comfortable as possible.”

  "I should have been there." Skye forced the self-condemning words out.

  "No, Skye, please don't think that," Tricia said as she rubbed Skye's back.

  Skye brought a hand to her forehead. “Oh, Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I tried to make it, I really did. I'm sorry. Thank you so much for being there for him." Sorrow tightened her throat.

  "You have nothing to apologize for. Your dad was happy to know you were safe. That meant everything to him."

  "Yes, yes, of course. Charlotte, are you okay?"

  "Yes, so far I am. My sister is a few streets over, and I'm going to stay with her now."

  "And Bobby and Janie, anything from them?"

  Charlotte uttered a sob. "No word about them, I asked everyone, even at the hospital. I'm hoping, praying, that means they found a safe place somewhere. I will leave a note for them. If you somehow hear from them, tell them I’m staying at Gretchen’s. How about you Skye? Are you still well?”

  “Yes, I'm fine. I did get sick but got over it. I'm visiting Tom and Tricia today and using their landline, but I'm still up in the hills with the Coles. It's secure, really nice. I had wanted to bring dad and you all here--" Her words trailed off as fresh tears started.

  "Good, you stay there. It eased your dad's mind knowing you were safe." Agony laced Charlotte's tone as she asked, "How did we get here, having conversations like this?" She cleared her throat. "I can't say it's nice here, but we'll get by. If I need to, I'll head down there. But right now, I want to stay with my family and hope that Bobby and Janie come home. If that doesn't work out, I have another sister outside of town that has been begging us to join her."

  Skye asked Charlotte to leave Tom's number and address in her note for Bobby and wrote down Charlotte's contact information. They each gave their assurances they would try to stay in touch. Both took their time saying their goodbyes, worried it would likely be the last conversation they would ever have with each other.

  Skye slowly hung up the phone, her head bowed. Her greatest fear had materialized. "They're all gone. My family is just gone." She was hollow, a hole sat in her chest where her beating heart used to be.

  Tricia and Tom wrapped her in their arms, and Skye leaned into them letting their small words of comfort encourage her. Though consoling others didn't come naturally to Wade, Dylan, or Jesse, each did their best.

  Jesse came over to Skye and hugged her, the first he had ever initiated. “Hug me for as long as you need to, I can take it."

  Skye smiled through her tears, stroked his hair and drew him closer.

  The whole execution seemed awkward to Wade, but he managed a stiff hug not too unlike Dylan’s first hug. He made it quick but gave her back a few pats.

  Dylan reached over everyone, wrapped his hand around her upper arm and pulled her into his embrace. As his strong, warm arms comforted her, Skye blew out a long, soft breath and laid her head against his chest. She reached around Dylan, putting her hands on his back and leaned against him, knowing he would hold her up.

  When Skye's tears started again, Dylan consoled her. "There's nothin you could've done."

  Tom frowned as he watched Skye and Dylan. When had this happened? He was supposed to be a cop, and this was the first he’d noticed. He threw a questioning glance to his wife.

  But Tricia didn’t look at him. She watched Dylan and Skye with a smile as wide as the New River Gorge. Apparently, she had seen this coming, probably from the time they hit the door.

  Tom’s frown deepened, and he folded his arms as he stepped back from the group. As he got ready to clear his throat, Tricia rapped on his forearm.

  She wagged her finger at him and mouthed, “None of your business.” As if that wouldn’t give him enough of a hint, she shot him a narrow-eyed glare.

  Tom’s uncertain glance went from Tricia to the couple and back again.

  Still... Tom wasn’t sure how he felt about this. He sent Tricia a scowl, then turned to take his police-issued Glock out of his gun case and holster it before he did his rounds.

  He refused to look at Skye and Dylan, instead turni
ng his gaze to the living room’s rain-dotted picture window.

  Something caught his eye. There was movement in the stand of trees facing the house.

  Thirty-Four

  One Way or the Other

  The change in Tom’s demeanor caught Dylan’s attention. “Stay here,” he whispered to Skye as he pushed her back and grabbed his own rifle.

  Dylan stepped up beside Tom. “What do you—” Dylan saw it too. A flash of blue in the grove of trees. “He’s runnin!”

  Tom, Dylan, and Wade raced out the front door. Tom yelled back to Tricia, "You know what to do!"

  The men rushed out to the wooded tree-line facing the living room but whoever it was had disappeared. A squeal of tires against pavement on the other side of a small rise told them where, but by the time they got to the top, the intruder was out of sight.

  Grateful the rain clouds were breaking up, Dylan headed back to the stand of trees and waved Wade and Tom over. “Let’s see what we can find out.”

  Tom looked up at the upstairs window of his house. Tricia, Skye, and Jesse aimed rifles out the window. "I'm really hoping one of them doesn't shoot us.”

  Wade and Dylan gave a deep chuckle of amusement. "We've taught ours how to shoot," Wade said. "Whatcha been doin with yours? ‘Cause last I knew she was a lousy shot.”

  “Tricia is probably a better shot than you,” Tom said.

  Dylan glanced up at the house and scoffed, then he got down to business pointing out what he saw. "Yeah, someone's been here. A man, most likely. It's trampled, he stood here a little while. Left behind a couple of these." Dylan kicked at a few hotel-size bottles of alcohol littering the ground.

  Wade scratched his cheek with the palm of his hand as he examined the scene. “Did you see this, brother?”

  “Yeah, he came from and headed toward the road.” Dylan pointed in the direction he meant.

  "Let's check it out," Tom said.

  The men hoisted their weapons and retraced their steps to the small hill, their feet sinking in the rain-soaked ground. They topped the rise and looked over the scene below, hoping to see something new. A car-sized square of dry pavement stood out on the empty rain-soaked street.

  Dylan tracked the stranger. “He was moving fast. See? He fell here and slid on the wet grass.” He looked at the other two men. “And from what I'm seeing, this isn't the first time he's been here."

  Tom's jaw set at the news. One look at each other, and the men scattered. One up each side of the street, and the other over the hill on the opposite side, but their investigation lead to no more clues than they already had.

  Tom frowned and huffed out a breath. "I'll check with my guys around here, but why would any of them do this? They don't need to be casing my house, they can just come on in."

  A scowl covered Dylan's face. “Nah. There ain't no reason for someone friendly to do this. Something’s up, Tom, and I don’t like it.”

  Tom's eyes narrowed as he scanned the empty hills. "Neither do I, D, neither do I."

  Wade offered his opinion in the form of a large splat of saliva he spewed to the ground.

  The men milled around for a couple of minutes but unable to do anything else they walked to the house. Once there, Tricia headed straight for Tom hugging him in relief as he told her of their findings.

  Dylan looked at Skye. Her worry eased once Tom said the person had left. Skye made her way over to Dylan, and they hung back as Tricia invited the others out to the house's fenced-in patio.

  Dylan put a light hand on Skye’s back. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I mean, it’s disconcerting but there is nothing to do.” Skye glanced up at Dylan. “I was actually thinking of something else.”

  Dylan raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, your family, Dylan. It might be a good time to contact them. I really hope you get better news than I did, but I'm sure you want to know one way or the other." A tear trailed down her cheek, and she brushed it away.

  Dylan nodded as he lightly ran a hand down her arm. She was right. This could be his last chance to call his dad.

  Skye settled outside with the others, and Dylan went to the phone. He chewed the side of his thumb as he listened to it ring. When his dad answered, relief rolled over him.

  Dylan’s voice broke as he addressed his father in their native language, one of the few words he knew.

  "Son, is that you? I've worried about you." His father's voice quivered.

  Dylan’s chest swelled as it always did when this man claimed him as son, then the familiar ache started. Emotion often welled up in Dylan when he spoke with his real father. To have a parent care for him as much as this man did moved Dylan, and while tears were hard to come by the ache was not. Dylan slowly rubbed the spot at his heart trying to get it to calm.

  "Are you well? Is Wade healthy?" his father quickly asked.

  "Yeah, yeah. Well, Wade’s dad died." Dylan's tone was flat, it was no loss to him. "But me and Wade are fine. How ‘bout you and yours?"

  "Better than most. When this disease started, we enforced a strict quarantine here, so we kept the number exposed to it low. We've lost a few here, but none of your brothers or sisters."

  Dylan felt a burden lift he'd been unaware he carried. He had several siblings on that side of his family. His father had been married twice, both times to women who loved raising children. It was a relief they all were okay.

  "Come here to us, Son."

  "It's not that easy. I've taken in--well, we've been helpin out a woman and a boy. She's got a bit of family left here, and I reckon she won't want to leave."

  "You have a woman now?" His father’s voice lifted with interest.

  "No," Dylan quickly said. "No, I didn't mean--"

  His father broke in and chuckled. "Sounds to me like you have a woman."

  Resigned to his father's humor, Dylan gave in. "I don't know what she is, but we're helpin her."

  "Bring her too. And your brother and the boy, there's room here for all of you. It’s where you should be, where you always should’ve been.“

  Dylan bowed his head. A part of him did belong there. ”I’ll keep it in mind, but your place is a ways off. We had trouble getting to Skye’s family, and she‘s closer. We shouldn't go that far unless we have to. We’re set up pretty good on the mountain, but Dad, we just might end up there, if need be."

  “Her name’s Skye, uh?”

  Dylan laughed. “Dad.”

  “I like knowing there’s someone for you.”

  Dylan looked around the corner to stare at Skye sitting with the others. “She’s someone all right.”

  “Good. Keep her. And know I’m here for you. Our people have existed long before this thing, and we will exist long after. You need me--I'm here."

  "Yeah, Dad, I know. You've always been there for me."

  Father and son exchanged contact information, including where they would leave sign if either left their area so the other could follow, if it came to that. Dylan then told his dad everything he’d learned about the AgFlu.

  They stayed on the phone as long as they could, first with small talk and as that dwindled, content with silence, grateful for the connection between them.

  When Dylan hung up, he raised his hand to the tears slipping down his face.

  Thirty-Five

  Seems to Me

  Dylan joined the others on the patio, stopping first in the doorway and letting the sun warm him and take away the morning chill. Sitting beside Skye, the only empty seat left, Dylan informed every one of his family's news.

  Skye gave Dylan a gracious smile. “I’m so happy for you and your family. What a difference! If only Disease Control kept a stricter quarantine, maybe other families would have the same good outcome.” She hung her head.

  At Skye’s words, Tricia bristled. “Pfft, or any quarantine! Cowards!” She rose from her seat. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

  Tricia gave Dylan a sharp stare and a nod toward the kitchen, he followed her. Trici
a pulled glasses out of the cupboard, and handing part to Dylan, told him to fill them with water. Suspicious, Dylan nodded, and glanced at Tricia out of the corner of his eye. What did she want with him?

  Tricia leaned against the counter, crossing her arms and tipping her head. “You aware that girl's sweet on you?”

  Not again. Dylan tensed and snorted his disbelief. “Nah, she ain’t. She wants to be friends.”

  "She don't see it yet, but she's figurin it out," Tricia insisted as they settled deeper into their local dialect.

  Dylan scorned Tricia’s opinion. "Look at ‘er, look at me."

  Undeterred, Tricia flung her hand out in Skye's direction. "Ya think that girl's afraid of country? That girl was born and bred country, she just wandered over the city line a bit, is all. Country ain't her problem. Be patient, she's had a rough go of it, but she'll let ya know what it is, soon as she can."

  With his hands gripping the countertop’s edge as he leaned back against it, Dylan snapped his jaw shut. He didn't want to discuss this, especially when he thought he'd just gotten it all figured out.

  But Tricia continued anyway, "At the risk of sounding trendy, it ain’t you. Skye's got some stuff she's figurin out."

  Through the doorway, Dylan watched Skye as she curled up in the patio chair with Jesse beside her, whispering in her ear. Skye raised her head and laughed, her face lighting up for a moment before her grief came back to her.

  If it could work out... Dylan pulled his gaze away and shook his head. Don't help to think like that.

  Tricia poked him in the arm. “I know what’cha thinkin. Don't give up on her, she needs ya and more than that she wants ya.”

  Dylan rubbed his arm and frowned. “Stop pokin at me. Ya know I hate that.”

  “What I know is, it’s the best way to get your attention.”