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

by Maira Dawn

  Vince's head fell to his hands. "I don't know! I didn't mean—"

  "I'm glad Father died before he saw what you've become!"

  A heavy silence filled the air before Vincent spoke, "You can fix this, brother! You can. Just do what I ask."

  "I don't know if I will make it there or back. There have been no human experiments."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I may be stuck there forever. Away from everyone. Away from Lisa."

  Vince groaned at the mention of his brother's fiancé. He'd forgotten who his brother would be leaving. "I'll go. Show me how."

  "You can't go. You wouldn't know the first thing about the history, how to act. Besides, you look like you’re dying."

  "I am."

  Nick's face turned ashen, and he slid down the wall. For some reason, he had refused to take in that part of the story. His brother was dying. The world was ending. He had to do his part, no matter what it cost him.

  Resigned, he said, "Vince, I can't believe what you have done, what this group you are part of has done. What an evil group of people. I will do my part and hope it works. And if I do make it back here, and everything is alright, I will come and beat the crap out of you."

  "Please do. I will need it."

  "I am so angry and disappointed in you."

  Now that his story was done, Vince let the tears flow. "I know." A round of bitter coughing shook his body, and blood seeped through the cloth mask he wore. His thoughts were becoming cloudy, and Vince worried about what that meant. People with rabies often lost their reason. He wondered if that was part of this disease.

  He looked at his brother, "You need to go, Nick. I'm sorry, but there is no time. Ian is getting the cure. He will call and meet you. You need to get things ready."

  Nick grabbed the antique wooden box their father had made with them from its place on the tall shelving unit. He threw it into a backpack along with some other odd items. A map, a compass, a large book, and empty vials. On top of that, Nick crammed clothing, a bit of food, and a few water bottles.

  He swung the pack onto his back and looked at his brother with a mixture of shock, disgust, and sympathy. "I will try to fix this, though God knows how. But if I can't, this is on you. You and all your cohorts."

  "Thank you, brother, for righting my wrongs," Vince said through the cloth covering his face. As he fell to the couch in grief and disgust for himself far greater than his brother felt, he choked out, "I'm sorry" around his rough cough. But it didn't matter, his brother was already gone.

  Vince's thoughts became more and more cloudy, more fragmented. He couldn't remember why he was at his brother's house though he knew it was important. He wondered where Nick was and searched the house to find him.

  Vince threw open the front door and walked outside, pulling the irritating cloth away from his mouth. Why was that there?

  A dark-haired man was in the parking lot, loading his car with suitcases. Maybe that was Nick.

  He walked closer, weaving a bit on his feet. The air around him seemed to buzz, irritating him.

  Vince came up behind the man and grabbed his shoulder, swinging him around. No. Not Nick.

  "Sorry!" Vince garbled out, nearly falling on the man.

  The man reared back. "Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?"

  Vince laughed. "I am a doctor."

  The man shook his head as Vince continued to roam through the parking lot and down the sidewalk.

  He coughed again, a deep, rumbling cough bringing up a long string of bloody phlegm. He worked his jaw. Yes. Rabies. He felt the urge to bite.

  That afternoon Vince infected nine people. Those nine people infected fifty-four more in the next hour, and those fifty-four infected three hundred and eighty-six within the next. Some showed symptoms right away, wiping at their nose. Some would go on with their daily routine of working, shopping, and traveling for days, weeks, and months before the disease manifested.

  The disease took Vince fast and continued to progress at a rapid rate. By the time, the three hundred and eighty-sixth person inhaled the tainted air, Vincent had attacked his first victim.

  Even as he tore into the innocent man, Vince struggled to stop himself, but he was no longer in control. The illness was. It told him to bite and tear. So, while a large part of him took joy in the attack, a small piece of him, the part that was still Vince, wept in agony along with the man.

  A police officer routinely assigned the block witnessed the attack. By the time he and two other men pulled Vince away, the victim was incapacitated. And missing chunks of his skin.

  The police officer called for an ambulance to take Vince to a psychiatric ward. He shook his head at the state of affairs in the world today as the vehicle drove off with Vince strapped on a gurney in the back of it. The officer shook hands with the two men who helped him. All three were infected.

  Enough of Vince was still aware when the needle of sedative slid into his arm that he offered a little prayer of thanks he was no longer a threat. But he was wrong.

  Every doctor who examined him, every nurse who continued to ply him with sleeping medication, became his victim. Within hours, three hospital employees were sent home when they developed symptoms of a severe cold and flu.

  The AgFlu had arrived in all its sickening glory.

  It began with a vengeance and would not end until the whole world knew of its existence.

  Thirty-Nine

  It Must End

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sonora tapped her finger against the TV remote, counting the minutes until her release. The doctor had agreed she was out of danger and could recuperate just as quickly at home. Now it was just a matter of nurses getting her ready to go and paperwork.

  Until then, she flipped through the channels as Ian and Jorah spoke in low tones about their upcoming invasion into the History Museum’s basement. One Atlantian guard stood by the entrance of the room, listening in. The others had been sent on various errands. Sonora could only imagine the looks the locals were giving the tall, muscled, armed guards. They were even bigger than Ian.

  She clicked the buttons a couple more times and came to an abrupt halt, staring at the TV. Sonora gasped and said, “Umm, hey! Ian? Jorah?”

  “What is wrong?” Ian rushed to her side.

  Sonora shook her head and pointed to the wall-mounted television. “Not me. Look!”

  She turned up the volume and the men turned to watch the news report about a teenaged girl in Ohio with a strange, mysterious illness causing her to bite her mother.

  Jorah dropped into the chair beside Sonora’s bed. “It has begun.”

  The girl’s uncle, visiting from South Carolina, had been admitted to the hospital with severe pneumonia.

  “How much do you want to wager he is from Seaside?” Ian asked.

  “That fast?” Sonora asked. “It moves that fast? She could have barely got there. How? How would she get infected?”

  “Vincent,” Ian said. “If he went through the public areas of the Marine Center, who knows how many people he infected.”

  “I was told,” Jorah said, “that the disease works differently in different people. In some, it progresses quickly, and in others, it is lengthy.”

  Sonora’s heart sank. “Is it too late?”

  “I do not know,” Jorah said, concern filling his voice.

  A hacking cough came from the hallway. The three looked at each other.

  Ian moved to retrieve Sonora’s clothes from the closet. “I want Sunny out of here. The Traveler said the infected people band together and attack others. I want her away from them. She must come to Atlantis.”

  Sonora couldn’t agree more. “What about my family? Since I didn’t get it, will they? And I want them safe too.”

  Jorah patted her arm. “No, they will not contract the disease. The cure resides inside them, as it does you. And they are also welcome to come to Atlantis.”

  “Even Grandpa?”

  “Even Blake, though the
re will be some conditions for him.”

  Sonora frowned and bit her lip, but any type of condition would be better than being where people were becoming like beasts. She glanced back up at the TV and shivered. “But my dad. Does everyone turn like that?”

  “No. Not everyone,” Jorah said. “Don’t worry. We will get your family to safety.”

  Sonora glanced at Ian as she gathered up some clothes to change into. “What do we do now?”

  “I take you to your home to gather what you need. While you are preparing to leave, we will go for the cure. We should be in Atlantis in a few hours.”

  “Yes,” Jorah said, his voice firm. “This History group must be stopped. They have harmed my people, now they start on their own. They allowed this disease. It angers me that such people have so much power in your world. It is as if they do not care for their people at all.”

  Sonora’s lips twisted in disgust. “It is a problem we have from time to time. The worst reach a position where they can do great damage to others.”

  At his side, Jorah’s hand tightened into a fist. “It ends today.”

  Forty

  Everyone Makes Mistakes

  Chapter Forty-One

  Sonora made it home without incident other than the fact that her legs felt like jelly. She was thankful Ian had stayed with her while Jorah and the guard went to Ian's house to gather weapons for the coming raid. Her arms wound tightly around his even though she laughed off his suggestion to carry her.

  Blake, Mike, and Azurine met them in the kitchen. "Sunny!" Azurine said. "They let you out of the hospital already?"

  "They told me to rest, but my tests came back clear. If I have any of these symptoms, I'm supposed to go back." Sonora waved a sheaf of paper the hospital had given her at them and set it on the countertop. "But I couldn't have stayed anyway. Have you seen the news?"

  Her mother shook her head as she waved everyone into the living room. As she got her daughter comfortable in a chair, she gave Ian and his exposed bruises and cuts several hard looks. "Sunny, what is going on?"

  Sonora grabbed her mom's hand. "Oh, Mom. I don't even know where to start. It's all just so… so horrible."

  Azurine settled beside Sonora. When Mike entered the living room and saw his wife's distress, he stood beside her.

  Sonora looked at her grandfather. She didn't know where to start, maybe he did.

  Blake scraped a hand over his face and motioned them to chairs. “You'll need to sit down for this. "This all—everything that's happening is because of the animosity between humans and Atlantians.”

  Mike gave a sharp nod. "I'm not surprised this day has come. How bad is it?"

  "Bad. Really, really bad."

  Blake wiped at his eyes as he started his story with Devon's experiments and ended with the AgFlu. Mike and Azurine's expressions went from confused to horrified. When told of Devon's involvement, several hard grunts and gasps escaped them.

  "You're telling me," Mike asked, "our Devon is the cause of so much pain and anguish. That the literal end of the world can be laid at his feet because of the hatred he feels for your people, Blake?"

  The older man slowly nodded.

  Mike threw a hand out. "But, Atlantians make up most of this family. His own wife. How can he justify—I don't understand."

  "Neither do I, Mike."

  "Dad," Sonora said. "Uncle Devon told me he spied on us for the other scientists." She broke down, sobbing.

  Mike moved into a chair beside Azurine. He, his wife, and Sonora huddled together. Ian stood behind Sonora, his hand on her shoulder, giving what support he could.

  Blake stared at them and choked out, "This is my fault too. I came up here—" He couldn't finish.

  Azurine waved him closer to them, hugging him. "Dad, if you hadn't, all of us wouldn't be here right now. You made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes."

  Blake nodded but didn't say anything.

  "What about Claire? What about my sister?" Azurine's voice trembled as she asked.

  Blake shrugged. "We don't know, honey. But Jorah has assured us he will look for and help her."

  "And this disease," Mike asked. "It is spreading that fast?"

  "Yes," Ian said. "We must get the cure, but you should all go to Atlantis for safekeeping."

  "We need to get Sierra and her husband."

  "Of course."

  Mike stood and went to the window, looking over Devon's property.

  "There is something you should know," he said, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "I just came from Devon and Claire's house. They are over there packing. Told me they were going on a business trip."

  Blake and Ian exchanged looks.

  Mike raised a hand, glancing at Ian. "I just ask that we don't hurt him, but hand him over to the proper authorities. Just in case, there is—I don't know—some kind of misunderstanding."

  Ian's words were clipped. "There is not.”

  Mike looked away. "I'm sorry. I didn't doubt you. It's just hard for me to imagine my brother-in-law as the man who hurt you."

  "Tortured me. Tortured and killed many, many others. And for that, Devon will be punished, but we will allow it to be in your courts. If those courts still exist in the days that come."

  Mike sagged against the wall. "Thank you."

  Azurine rose and hugged her husband, glancing out the window. "They're out there right now. I'm calling the police."

  Ian turned and rushed out the front door before anyone could object. Sonora looked at her grandfather and father. "He shouldn't go alone."

  Blake and Mike ran after him. Azurine went to the door, and Sonora struggled to her feet and joined her.

  "Sunny!" Azurine said. "You shouldn't be up."

  "I'm going out there, Mom. I have to see Uncle Devon's face when he admits to what he's done. It somehow won't seem real otherwise." Sonora brushed tears from her eyes. "I was at the Marine Center, playing with the dolphins with him, and he had just come from hurting Ian. I have to see him. I have to."

  Azurine nodded in understanding. "And we need to help Claire. She is going to be so shocked, so upset."

  Sonora agreed as her mother offered an arm to help her down the stairs.

  Forty-One

  Escape

  Chapter Forty-one

  Ian stormed across the yard, Blake and Mike close behind. Devon and Claire stood at the back of their car, arms filled with clothes. Turning toward the men, Claire dropped what she carried and jumped backward, smacking against the vehicle.

  Devon threw his clothes into the car and pushed his wife toward the passenger's side. "Get in the car now!"

  Claire went for the vehicle door while Devon slammed the trunk lid down and turned toward the men sizing up his choices. Gaging the distance between himself and them, he went for the driver's side.

  When Ian saw Devon's intentions, he tensed and bolted for the man before he could make it.

  Devon threw a glance over his shoulder, surprise covering his face at Ian's speed. He fumbled with his jacket pocket. When he swung toward Ian, he was holding a gun.

  Sunny's scream shattered the air. Her pain and dizziness forgotten, she moved away from her mother and toward the men.

  Ian halted so quickly the grass beneath his feet tore from the earth. He sensed Sonora's fear and determination.

  "Stay back," he roared at her.

  Sonora hesitated and stopped, a hand at her throat.

  As Blake and Mike followed Ian, the older man raised his hands to Devon.

  "Son," Blake said. "You don't want to do this, hurting someone else will do you no good. I'm not sure what started this hatred in you, but it needs to stop. I can help you."

  Devon choked on his indignation. "You—you can help me? Ha! You are the one who started this!"

  Devon waved his gun at Blake's confused expression. "You killed my parents! Murdered my mother as if she were no more than a troublesome fly. My father, you broke in half while I watched from under my bed."

  Blake
paled.

  "Yes," Devon continued. "You knew I was there, didn't you? Your mistake was in leaving me alive. You should have killed me too because I saw what your kind could do. You're a menace to all humans. You must be exterminated!"

  When Ian took a step forward, Devon swung the gun to him. "You! Haven't I shown you how small and pitiful you really are? I've taken so much from you. I'm surprised you can stand." Devon glowered at Ian, and his mouth twisted in a sneer. "I guess our last experiment will be to see how many bullets it takes to bring you down. Don't worry. I have a lot."

  Devon's finger wrapped around the trigger as he flicked off the safety.

  "No, Son," Blake said. "It is me you're angry with. If you need to shoot someone, shoot me. Then let that be an end of this."

  "Shut up, old man!" Devon said, "And stop calling me that. I am not your son, and I never was. I cringed every time you called me that. Like I would want to be anything to you!"

  Devon scoffed when Blake jerk back. "And no, this won't be the end. You weren't even the beginning. History has been working with DNA since the fifties. Did you know that? You should see some of the freaks they have.”

  Devon waved the gun at Ian. "So, I know this one won't be the last. I've let them know about this little uprising, and they will squash it flat."

  Devon laughed as he stared at Ian. "What I had planned for you is nothing next to what they will do to you. I'd swim deep if I were you. The next abomination they catch…"

  Devon shook his head. "So, no. No endings, only beginnings here. My only regret is that I can no longer shield the children. I kept Sierra and Sonora safe. With me gone, they will pounce on them."

  Devon's words buzzed through Ian's mind. "No," Ian shouted. "That will not happen. It will never happen to her." He started toward Devon again.

  The bang echoed through the air. Ian stumbled back, holding his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers.