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

by Maira Dawn

  “Stop it, Trish. We ain’t kids no more. And anyway, a girl like that don't end up with a boy like me."

  Tricia puffed out an irritated sigh. "You forget we shared the same hills, D. I see you, and I see her. And you got it all wrong." She recrossed her arms. “Seems to me a boy like you don't know nothin ‘bout Skye. Here's the truth of the matter, and ya darn well know it, there's no boy like you and girl like her. Not no more. There's just two people trying to survive." Tricia poked her finger at his chest. "Survive together."

  Dylan gave Tricia a hard stare. "Can't believe you're sayin all this, what with Tom and all."

  With a wistful glance over at Tom, Tricia said, "Me and my husband have disagreed about ya for some time now. You wouldn't have gotten in so much trouble if things wouldn't have been— well, what they were. On the other hand, I reckon that spat of upset taught you a few things. Things that are gonna be useful now. Cause to survive, you will have to be the trouble."

  Dylan nodded. If those men on the road were any sign, that was true. Be the trouble, or the trouble will take you.

  Tricia moved to poke Dylan again, and he swatted her hand away. She frowned at him. “Are ya listenin, ya big lug?”

  “Yeah. I hear ya.” Dylan scowled back. "Now stop, or I’ll tell Tom to keep ya away from me.”

  Tricia’s eyes teased. “Big D! Always was scared of lil’ ol’ me. I guess I was always too tough for ya? Uh, Dylan?”

  A matching light entered Dylan’s stare taking him back to their younger days. He jumped toward Tricia causing her to squeal and hop backward. They laughed, and Tricia gave Dylan a quick hug.

  “I care about ya,” she said. “I want to see ya happy--and Skye. You can do that for each other.”

  Dylan glanced at Skye again, he never seemed to take his eyes off her for long. “I hope you’re right, Trish.”

  “I am,” she said and handed Dylan a tray of drinks.

  The two entered the patio to find Skye listing the advantages of moving up to the mountain.

  Dylan set the tray down on a sage-colored plastic end table and added to the conversation. “There’s empty cabins all around us now. You could have one.”

  On seeing the drinks, Skye asked Dylan to pass her one. Quickly, he handed one to her as he reminded himself that this is what her kind of folks do. Nice people offer drinks, especially to people they care about.

  Wade leaned forward in his seat. “I gotta lot of know-how. I can get any of them in fine workin order for you. There’s others who've made it through the AgFlu livin up there, got the makings of a little town now. Seems fittin the sheriff would be up there too.”

  Tom laid back in his chair and voiced his misgivings. "I feel like I need to stay here in Colton. There are people here too, and if the Infected return and try set up house here, we'll have lost it."

  “And be safe up in the hills,” Dylan said, “Move up for the fall and winter. Then come spring, if we have to, we'll come back here and make a stand. We can watch them from up there.”

  Tom glanced at Tricia and looked at the ground. “I can’t commit, but I will visit next week and see how it would work out for any wanting to move up there. How’s that?”

  Dylan nodded. It was a step in the right direction.

  “In the meantime, D, let me give you a radio so we can stay in touch.”

  The day flew by and soon it was time to leave. The expression on Skye’s face said it all, and Dylan laid a hand on her shoulder when a tear slid over her cheek. When Dylan looked back at Tricia and Tom, he couldn’t miss the emotion that played across Tom’s face.

  It was clear Tom didn’t like Skye and Dylan getting close. And Dylan would probably feel the same if he were in Tom’s shoes. Tom was the law, and he and Wade had rode the edge of that for some time now. Dylan stiffened. Tom may want Skye here, but things were different now. She belonged on the mountain with them. Dylan waited for the words he knew would come.

  After clearing his throat, Tom said, "I've got to thank you, boys. Skye says you took good care of her. But Skye, you and Jesse can stay here now. You'd be good company for Tricia. I'll follow you back, get your things, and we'll be home in a no time."

  Unsettled, Tricia glared at her husband. The men were still for a moment. It seemed like an order and that didn’t sit well. As one, Dylan, Wade, and Jesse closed ranks around Skye. "Yeah," Dylan said, "we're gonna keep her."

  Tom bristled at Dylan. "You don't just keep— Skye belongs here."

  Before things escalated, Skye smiled, pushing Wade aside as she stepped forward beside Dylan. "That's okay, Tom. I'm keeping them too."

  Tom sighed and brought his hands to his hips. "All right then, I guess I can't say anything to that."

  Tricia swatted her husband before hugging them all. "I hate what this disease is doing to us. First, our businesses gone, then our families and now we are separated."

  “Well,” Wade said, “you decide to move on up to the mountain, just haul your stuff up there when you come and visit. And bring some of those cookies.” Wade sprinted to the kitchen to stuff his pocket with a few more. On his way back, Wade wrapped an arm around Jesse and slid him a couple of the treats.

  Skye waved at Tom and Tricia as she walked to the truck.

  When they were almost to the vehicle, Dylan turned and shouted to Tom and Tricia, "Hey, you know where we can find some chickens?"

  Thirty-Six

  The Crash

  Frankie laid on the hill near the road and watched as Skye and Jesse settled in the car. As he pulled at the wet grass, he took another swig of his too-small bottle of whiskey. They almost caught me, but I tricked 'em. Sped off and found a different spot to spy.

  Frankie had watched Tom’s house for days hoping Skye and Jesse would show up. Today was his lucky day.

  Jesse smiled up at Skye when she tossed his hair. Their affection made Frankie feel bad, and he didn’t like it. He should be the one to do that. It was his right, he was Jesse’s parent, not her.

  That’s my kid—my kid you’re going on about, makin him a momma's boy. Boys need to be tough.

  As Wade and Dylan got into their vehicle, Frankie pushed himself up off the grass and made a drunken mad dash to his car. After stumbling a few times, he stayed low to the ground. Once Frankie reached it, he opened and shut the door with exaggerated quietness.

  From here, Frankie barely made out the top of the black truck as the vehicle backed out of the driveway, but he needed to keep his distance. With no other traffic on the road, if he got too close, he would arouse suspicion.

  Impatiently, Frankie waited until Tom and Tricia walked into their house to start his car. He gripped the steering wheel as he watched them waving, twisting his hands on it as he bided his time. The instant the front door shut, he turned the key and slammed the car into gear.

  Raising the whiskey bottle to his lips, Frankie sucked out the drops that remained, then hurled bottle behind him with enough force to further crack the already broken back window. He glowered at the truck that slipped around the curves in front of him.

  Do ya think you can just beat me and leave me for dead? Take my boy? Thought it’d scare me of, huh? Guess what? I don’t scare easy. You just lit the fire, boys, you just lit the fire. My whole life people been looking down on me. You’re no better than me! Bad enough when the state took ‘im. But there ain’t no law now. I want my boy back, I just take 'im. You nobodies ain’t got any right to steal what’s mine. And that boy is mine, like it or not.

  Determined, Frankie removed a hand from the steering wheel to stroke the gun on the seat beside him. I’ll get 'im back whatever it takes.

  Anger popped and stretched within him, and he inhaled deeply only to jerk in anguish. Broken ribs, and no doctor meant a slow recovery for Frankie. His resentment grew along with his pain.

  What if, instead of only getting his boy back, he made them pay for taking Jesse in the first place? Frankie wiggled a little straighter in his seat. He liked that idea. Hurt them lik
e they had hurt him. Frankie sucked in a lip as he attempted to think of a plan. What he had in the trunk would help, but it would take more than him. Trouble was, there wasn‘t much he was able to do by himself and like-minded people—well, any people were hard to come by nowadays.

  Carefully, Frankie worked his way around the curves. One wrong move and the group in front of him would see him. He couldn't allow them even a glance. Today he would find out where they lived. Later he would return to do what he wanted.

  Dylan's truck slowed, and Frankie brought his car to a crawl. Worried he was caught, Frankie stopped before the next turn, got out and walked to the curve. To peek around the rocky hill, he kept close to it and slowly worked his way to where he could observe Cole’s group.

  Dylan’s pickup idled, and a quick glimpse showed Frankie an armed Dylan and Wade striding down the road directly at him.

  Frankie ran for the gun he’d left in the car. He skidded to a stop and glanced back. He’d never make it before they rounded the corner. Desperately, he searched the ground on the lower side of the hill until he spotted a narrow trail. Frankie raced for it.

  He slid down the steep path kicking up wet mud and stones. He grabbed a tree to break his fall and laid flat against the hillside.

  Frankie saw Wade and Dylan from the chest up as they sauntered to his car and took his gun and a few other items from the front seat. They moved to the loaded trunk, and Frankie held his breath. The two talked as they scanned the area. When they stepped closer to the edge, Frankie blew out a sigh. If they had opened that, he didn’t know what would happen.

  Instead, Dylan and Wade readied their weapons and called out to Frankie. Wade said something to Dylan, and they both laughed. At Dylan's delighted nod, Wade got into the driver's seat of Frankie’s car and maneuvered it, so it crossed the street instead of aligned with it. The battered car now faced the clear expanse of sky and the edge of the road.

  Realizing their intention, Frankie took off, half running, half skidding down the hill. He knew what was in that trunk, he’d put it there.

  "Hey!" One of them said as Frankie continued down the hill as fast as he could go. He wasn't stopping. He knew what waited for him if he did.

  "Hey!" came the shout again.

  Gravel crunched, and there was a scrape of metal against pavement as the two brothers pushed the front end off the edge. Frankie threw a glance over his shoulder, hoping it would stop there. Instead, it flew over the side so close to him Frankie could have touched it.

  Front over end, it rushed by him. Grinding and crashing with the first hit. Frankie dodged the rock and dirt that shot up all around him, stinging him in a million places. The car continued its erratic, deafening course as it went. He ducked and hugged the dirt, waiting.

  On the final smash, it teetered back and forth before it stopped and shuddered. For a moment, Frankie thought the car's journey was at its end, but he was wrong.

  The vehicle shot upward as it exploded into hundreds of fiery pieces. Orange and yellow flames decorated the fragments and licked at what remained on the ground. Frankie ducked what he guessed was part of a door coming at him. It hit the hill above him and slid, smoke rolling off the metal and the turf beneath it.

  Frankie's face, hot from the explosion, reddened further with the shout of triumph from above. Dylan and Wade laughed and applauded at the site of the flames. Then slapped each other on the back as they walked toward their truck.

  Once their truck roared to life, Frankie grabbed at grass and roots, pulling himself up the hill. Ribs aching from the effort, he hauled himself onto the road and stared after the pickup. His anger reached a fervor rivaling the flames below.

  I'm gonna kill them.

  Thirty-Seven

  Ready

  Crunching metal and shattering glass along with the boom of an explosion loud enough to make Skye’s ears hurt had her scrambling for the car door handle, Jesse right behind her.

  "No! Back in the truck. You stay in this car!" Skye told him, pushing him onto the seat with one hand.

  "I want to see!" Jesse's eyes lit up with excitement. Even from here, the flames were visible, and he was eager for a closer look.

  "No! I said no!"

  "Well, what if they are coming for us? And you leave me here and--"

  Skye huffed. "Oh, my—Jesse! Fine! But you stay right by me, you hear?"

  Jesse nodded several times. Skye grabbed hold of his shirt. She would take no chances with him.

  Cautiously, Skye and Jesse rounded the curve to see Dylan and Wade looking gleefully over the hill at the blaze. The tension in Skye eased, and when Jesse struggled to break away, she let him.

  “Dylan!” Jesse said as he raced to the Coles.

  When Dylan turned toward Jesse, his expression changed, and he waved Jesse back.

  “I wanna see,” Jesse said.

  “Nah, Jesse, not today.” Dylan corralled the boy as he tried to peer over the side of the road. Wade and Dylan started up the hill, dragging Jesse along with them.

  Skye met the three on their way up the street. “Dylan? What’s wrong?”

  Dylan frowned and shook his head. “Ain’t nothin wrong. We just need to go.”

  “But what happened?”

  “Nothin.”

  Skye raised an eyebrow at Dylan.

  He nodded at Jesse who he was still half-dragging up the road. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  When Skye opened her mouth, Dylan repeated, his voice stern, “Later.”

  “Okay.” Skye lowered her head and rolled her eyes. He hadn’t even known what she was going to say.

  Jesse didn’t give up though. "Oh, come on, that’s not fair! I just wanna see!"

  “Not this time, buddy,” Dylan said. “I’ll blow somethin else up for you."

  "Come on, Jesse," Wade said, "Let's go back to the pickup now."

  Dylan let the boy loose so he could follow Wade, and chuckled as Jesse jabbered a long list of everything he would like to blow up someday.

  Once Jesse was out of earshot, Skye sent a questioning glance to Dylan. When he didn’t respond other than a shake of his head, she jabbed him in the arm.

  He rubbed the spot. “I hate being poked.”

  “So I heard. I hate being treated like a child.”

  Dylan snorted. “Okay. That’s fair.” He glanced up at Jesse and lowered his voice. “It was Frankie.”

  Skye stopped and placed a hand on her chest. “Are you kidding me?”

  Dylan stared at Skye, gauging her reaction to the news before shaking his head and studying the pavement. “No.”

  With wide eyes, Skye looked at Dylan unable to believe what he told her. Her gaze turned to the forest-covered hills, over the valley and back to Dylan as she thought about the situation. Then she asked, “What was he doing?”

  Dylan pressed his lips together a couple times. “Followin us. Probably trying to see where we live.”

  “Oh, no! Dylan, what if he finds us? I was hoping... Well, I know it’s horrible, but I was hoping he’d gotten the AgFlu.”

  Dylan’s mouth twisted. “Weren’t we all?”

  “How did he look?”

  “Healthy, but still beat up. Think he’d learn.”

  Skye waved toward the fire. “What happened there?”

  Dylan pointed to the edge of the roadway. “He ran down the side of the mountain, and we pushed his car over.”

  Skye raised her eyebrows. “You threw a car at him?” When Dylan looked down and scraped his foot along the road, she asked, “You couldn’t have just taken the keys?”

  A bit of red colored Dylan’s cheeks. “Wade’s way was more fun.”

  Skye blinked a couple times and crossed her arms. “Figures we have him to thank for this.”

  “Hey, I was all for it too.”

  Skye frowned. “Why was it that big of explosion?”

  “Seems like he had a surprise for us in the trunk.”

  Skye started walking again. “This is horrible! I do
n’t like this, I really don’t. I thought he’d just give up.”

  Dylan laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Skye. He will now.”

  Skye stared up at Dylan. “I don’t want anything happening to Jesse, to any of us.”

  Dylan gave her a solemn nod. “I know. Me either, and to get Jesse away from Wade would be like wrestling a bear.”

  Skye chuckled even as tears flooded her eyes. She glanced down.

  “Hey.” Dylan put a finger to Skye’s jaw and tipped her face to his. “Jesse’s okay. We’re okay, and we’re stayin that way. Frankie’s got a long walk back, and that’s if he’s in decent condition. I’ll radio Tom, and he can keep an eye open for him.”

  His callused thumb wiped away an escaped tear. Skye caught Dylan’s hand and laid her cheek to it. “Thank you.”

  Dylan’s gaze met Skye’s and held hers, refusing to let go. He raised his other hand and lightly ran it down her hair only to tangle his fingers at its edge.

  Skye’s heart thumped. Almost all rational thought left her as she held Dylan’s intense dark-blue gaze. The world around them disappeared as Skye set her palm on Dylan’s chest and felt the hard strum of his heart beneath it.

  With a gentle tug on the hair he held, Dylan drew Skye to him. Her knees weakened, but she managed a tiny step forward. It was enough.

  Her eyes on his, Skye slowly gathered his t-shirt into her fist. Dylan’s heart quickened beneath her hand, and Skye’s throat went dry for a moment. She swallowed.

  Dylan’s gaze questioned Skye. He gave her time, and she took it, still returning his intense gaze. Then she wavered.

  Skye looked at the trees, Dylan's face, the road, Dylan’s lips—soon anywhere but him.

  Dylan tugged on Skye’s hair again, and her gaze shot back to him. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered. “Come here.”

  Skye fell into Dylan’s arms. A kiss she couldn’t do yet, but this… this was perfect. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready yet.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll be here.”