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

by Maira Dawn

  Her eyes settled on a tablet of paper sitting on the desk. “And please ask if we can write to each other.”

  “Sure.”

  Skye’s stomach dropped as she walked away, brushing tears away.

  Her gaze swept the group, landing on Sydney. She sent her a pleading glance.

  The woman’s hard face softened. “I’ll make sure she has the best care possible. I promise.”

  Skye would need to be satisfied with that.

  She glanced back, giving Kelsey one last look.

  The girl looked small in the enormous room. She wrapped her arms around herself as she stared back at Skye—her eyes round and too large for her face.

  The door between them shut, blocking Skye’s view.

  Kevin took Skye to the next room—a copy of Kelsey’s. After opening the blinds in this room, Kevin lingered at the door. “Our founder would like to meet you.”

  “And Kelsey?”

  “Of course—but you first.”

  “Okay.”

  Skye ran a hand over her hair, wanting to make as good an impression as possible. It was vital for this founder to see her and Kelsey as fellow human beings and not just test subjects. She looked in the mirror and squared her shoulders before following Kevin back across the hall they had come down and to a door further down on the right.

  Without a word, he motioned her in.

  The room seemed dark against the daylight cascading in from the floor to ceiling windows that were a copy of those she had in her room, especially since the lights were off.

  Against the panorama of the ocean stood a silhouetted figure.

  A man—lost in thought.

  Skye and Kevin stood for a moment waiting for recognition until Kevin uttered an awkward cough.

  The shadowed man dropped his hands and sighed. He clicked on the lights.

  Skye blinked against their brilliance and scanned the room.

  The office was pristine, orderly to the point of perfection. Skye was almost afraid to breathe for fear of messing something up.

  Every item was so precisely laid out, she wondered if he used a tape measure. From the pictures on the wall to the pens, stapler, and office accessories lining the desk like little soldiers.

  Everything was either black or white and so starkly done, it set one’s teeth on edge.

  This was the room of a troubled person. A person who looking for order in life and not finding it there demanded it here where he could control it. That did not bode well for the rest of this facility or for her and Kelsey.

  Since it is impossible for the world to exist at the high level of perfection a person like this demanded, this room was most likely the only place this man found rest—relief.

  No wonder he had sighed. Their presence broke his respite.

  Skye studied the man as he walked toward them. Not a wrinkle marred his dress shirt and tie, or the blindingly white coat he wore over it.

  He smoothed a hand over his dark hair.

  Of course, he did.

  He would refuse to have a single strand out of place.

  Did he insist on the same high level of perfection in others?

  Silly question.

  Undoubtedly.

  Skye imagined the rage this man had over what he perceived as other’s shortcomings. He would release those dark emotions in some way.

  She shuddered to think what it might be.

  His dark eyes seemed haunted and sad—but there was also a hard edge to them.

  He moved with a confidence that said his way was the only right way, and it would be impossible to convince him of anything else.

  The founder stopped and clapped his hand behind his back, tilting his head at her rather than give Skye a handshake.

  “Hello. My name is Devon. Doctor Devon Shade.”

  Twenty-One

  The Story of My Life

  Although Skye believed most people were good, despite any personality flaws they needed to work through, she instantly disliked this man.

  Some perfectly healthy people were quite neat and enjoyed stark decorating. But that along with Devon’s insane need to find a cure for a disease that had already run rampant through the world as well as his willingness to hurt people while he was doing it, told her much about him. Her last few days under his roof had shown her the extent he would go.

  This man was not healthy. He was not even remotely normal.

  Still, she needed to treat him as though he was healthy—as though there were no any evil intentions toward her or anyone else.

  It would be her biggest acting job yet.

  “Skye Jackson,” she introduced herself. “But I suppose you already know that.”

  “I do. I have read the reports about you and your companion—interesting cases. I look forward to working with you.”

  Skye tried to tame the shudder attempting to overtake her as Devon looked her over. “You two are special. Few patients make it to this phase of the testing. Things . . . happen.”

  Skye pulled in a slow breath, keeping its raggedy edges at bay. He made evil sound like an everyday occurrence.

  And in this place, it just might be.

  “What exactly are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Why, trying to find a cure.” Devon gave her an incredulous stare. “No one explained that?”

  “Yes. But why are you so sure you’ll be able to accomplish what no one else has done? What are your credentials?”

  “Oh, I see.” He gave a little chuckle. “Don’t worry, I have all the schooling and, more important than that, the hands-on experience with this virus. I am intimately familiar with its every twist and turn. If I could only tell you . . . perhaps one day I will.”

  Skye’s stomach tightened. She wouldn’t be here long enough for an explanation. Hopefully.

  She stared at him, trying for a little intimidation of her own. “I’m a doctor myself, so if you would explain, I would appreciate it.”

  “A doctor of?” Devon arched an eyebrow. “Anything that can be of use to me here?”

  Skye barked out a sharp laugh. Definitely something that could be of use.

  “I’m a psychologist.”

  “Interesting.” Devon looked at the floor. “I would like someone to talk to. I haven’t been the same since the death of my wife.”

  He turned his back to her and faced the wall of ocean. “It was all their fault.”

  “Who’s fault?”

  Devon turned back toward Skye. “You won’t understand if I only tell you. Seeing it though, then you must believe.”

  What was he talking about? Perhaps the man was more irrational than he’d already let on.

  “So, Dr. Skye, can we set up some sessions?”

  Skye almost cringed. The last thing she wanted to do was spend more time with her captor—the man behind the torture of countless people. But if this helped their situation, she’d do it.

  Skye glanced at Devon. Her hesitation had already put a sharper edge to his stare.

  Did she have a choice then? Maybe this would help gain his trust—or someone’s. Trust could lead to fewer restrictions—and eventually—escape.

  “Of course, whenever you like.” Skye forced a tight smile.

  Devon ran his hands over the lapels of his white coat. “I have some work I need to get to right now. Perhaps you would like to rest awhile, and we will meet again later.”

  “Sounds fine.” Skye tightened her icy fingers into fists.

  She waited for her dismissal. When the scientist remained quiet, she took control and tipped her head, then headed for the door.

  She’d take what little power was given her.

  Skye spent the next two hours picking through, and discarding, the pile of mostly bodice-ripper novels before moving on to the more interesting movies. But this was too dire of a situation for such mundane entertainment to hold her interest.

  Eventually, Kevin knocked on her door and again led her down the hallway to Devon’s lair. When he tapped o
n the boss’ door, Devon’s muffled voice called for them to enter.

  Surprised, Skye found Devon’s gloomy attitude from this morning had changed into a downright cheerful one. She hoped it had nothing to do with the droplets of blood staining the front of his white coat.

  “Hello!” he said to Skye as he passed the dirty jacket to Kevin and ordered him to take it to the laundry.

  Devon’s henchman bunched the jacket up, covering the large red spot, but Skye couldn’t pull her eyes away from the cloth.

  Would her blood, or Kelsey’s, soak this crazy man’s clothing one day?

  As Kevin handed the garment off to a guard, Devon clapped his hands as if to get her attention. “Okay then, how should we do this? Do I lay on the couch or sit?”

  Skye turned her attention to him and reminded herself that this needed to go well. Whatever the man needed to discuss or confess, she needed to handle it.

  “Whatever makes you more comfortable is fine,” she said as she pasted on a pleasant expression.

  Devon looked from the chair to the couch. “I feel as if I need to do this the proper way. The couch it is.”

  He motioned for most of the guards to go to the hallway but told Kevin and Sydney to stand on the other side of the room.

  Devon dragged a chair closer to the couch while darting looks at Kevin and Sydney. When he was satisfied, he invited Skye to sit.

  He laid on the couch, changing positions a few times until he seemed comfortable.

  “So, Doc,” he said, “does talking about people’s darker moments help them?”

  “Most people have told me it helps them learn more about themselves and work through problems. I will warn you—it can be work, hard work. Some were not happy with what they found and made the needed changes, and in the end considered it well worth the effort.”

  “Of course, of course. So where should I start?”

  “Wherever you would like. This is your time. What do you want to talk about?”

  “A story. The story—the story of my life.” Devon glanced at Skye. “I believe the best place to start is the day I became a different person. The day of my parent’s murder. An Atlantian attacked them, crushed them, as I watched.”

  Skye froze. She had tried to prepare herself for anything, but mostly for gruesome details of his work.

  But Atlantians? No, she had not prepared herself for that.

  So, okay, more than a little crazy then.

  She forced her pleasant expression to hold. It would do no good to lose his trust at the very beginning.

  Devon stared at her, waiting for a reaction.

  Skye raised an eyebrow.

  Certainly, he didn’t expect her to accept such an outrageous claim. He was sane enough to know the statement was strange.

  Devon laughed but seemed satisfied with her response.

  As he continued, Skye glanced at Kevin and Sydney. Both seemed unfazed. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time they’d heard these crazed memories.

  Skye turned her attention back to Devon and the tale he told. To some extent, they made sense.

  An attacker may seem superhuman to a child watching his parent’s murder, but Devon should have grown out of that idea. To maintain these underwater people exist at this stage in his life was far beyond the norm.

  Devon’s twisted story continued. He claimed he was groomed by fellow humans to hunt the Atlantians, trained to conduct gruesome medical experiments on them, and gleefully murdered the underwater people all in the name of helping humankind.

  Skye had trouble holding her nausea.

  No doubt these “Atlantians” were human victims. If what he said was true—and from what she’d seen—Devon was more than a serial killer. He was a mass murderer.

  Skye paled and sat a little straighter, willing her stomach to settle.

  Eventually, Devon sat up and ran his hands over his face. He looked at Skye as he gave his final confession. “It was my fault. I created this disease to destroy those abominations. And it turned against us. Instead, I infected—I killed—all of my beloved humankind.”

  Devon broke down, sobbing. “Now I’m determined to find the cure, no matter the cost.”

  Skye gripped the armrests of the chair. This man—this monster—created the disease that killed almost everyone on earth?

  Her mind flew from the loved ones she had lost—her mother, father, the rest of her family—to every gruesome death she had seen, and the poor restless souls who still wandered through deserted towns and wasted lands, sick and confused.

  This man had done that. Unable to hold it in any longer, Skye raced to a garbage can sitting beside a desk and vomited.

  As Skye wiped her mouth with a tissue she took from Devon’s desk, she realized how silent the room had become.

  Of course, this man would find this reaction to his confession a personal affront. On some level, he thought he was a hero fighting to save all humankind.

  Skye glanced at Devon. His expression hardened.

  Her mind swirled with excuses he might accept until she latched onto one.. “I’m so sorry. How-how horrible this must be for you. What you have been through!”

  Devon eyed Skye, then the garbage can she held. He motioned for Kevin to take it out of the room.

  Everyone was silent as Kevin did as instructed.

  Devon heaved a sigh. “It has been hard. I’ve had a difficult life, and I appreciate your intense appreciation over my hardships. I can tell you truly understand.”

  Skye nodded, hoping there would be no lingering aftereffects causing her to need the trash can again.

  Devon pointed to a door on his right. “There’s a bathroom through there if you should need it.”

  “Thank you. But you’ve worked hard today. Perhaps we should take this up tomorrow.”

  Devon nodded. “I agree.”

  Skye said her goodbyes, trying not to appear too rushed. Her mind whirled as she walked back to her room, a hand on her still upset stomach.

  When Skye and the guards reached her room, she reached for the door handle eager to get away from them so she could release her genuine feelings about the mad scientist.

  Her hand grazed the handle when Sydney spoke.

  “You’re lucky. The Doc told you about the Atlantians already. He normally works up to that.”

  Skye glanced at her. Did Sydney also accept the superhuman beings as real?

  “I saw a newspaper article about the Atlantians early on but figured it was all fake news,” Skye replied.

  “Well, I expect now that Doc has told you, you’ll get to see one.”

  Skye shot a glance at Sydney. “Have you seen one?”

  “I’m still waiting, but Kevin has. He says they’re just as huge as Doc says. Strong, too. They have to be sedated at all times to handle them.”

  Skye dropped her gaze to the floor. If Devon had true converts, the situation would be even more dangerous than she’d expected.

  As for the so-called Atlantian, whoever was at the non-existent mercy of Dr. Devon Shade, her heart went out to them.

  Twenty-Two

  Day One

  That night as Skye fell asleep, her mind drifted away from the evil and to Dylan.

  She imagined him tall and strong, even though the infection had still raged the last time she’d seen him. She had to believe that Jesse made it home with the medication and Dylan had healed. Because to think anything else would be unacceptable.

  She snuggled further under the covers as she imagined his muscular arms wrapped around her, soothing her as he had so many times before. Skye hugged a pillow to herself, trying to ignore the tears that coursed down her cheeks.

  She daydreamed of the future they were making—the mountain, their cabin, and the warm sunlight waking her and Dylan each morning in their hand-carved four-poster bed.

  Each memory was bittersweet. To remember now, in this place, made any dream seem unattainable.

  A sob escaped Skye. She needed Dylan. Her soul seemed emp
ty. How she yearned to hold him to her—his solid body strong and sturdy again.

  Would he find her?

  He was an excellent tracker but tracking hundreds of miles away seemed beyond even his considerable skills.

  But if anyone would be able to, it would be him.

  Dylan, her love.

  But she wouldn’t just wait for him to appear. She and Kelsey would be on alert for any opportunity to escape. Then she would make her way back to his arms and stay there.

  The next morning Skye stood in front of the large window, watching the lazy tide push onto the shore when a knock sounded.

  Before she crossed the room to answer it, the door sprang open and Kevin strolled in. He gave her a tight nod. “Doctor Shade needs you in the lab.”

  Skye’s heart stopped. “The lab?”

  “Yes. They have moved your schedule up.”

  A million horrible scenes flashed through her mind.

  Skye glanced at Kevin. The man knew what would happen. How many other victims had he led to that evil place?

  Instinctively, Skye stepped away from him.

  He grabbed her arm in an iron grip and pulled her toward the hallway.

  Skye tried to yank her arm away, but Kevin tightened his grip.

  “I want to see Kelsey before I go!” she said.

  “Do you really want her to see you like this? You look all freaked out.”

  “I am freaked out.”

  “It’ll be fine. Nothing big ever happens on the first day.”

  Was he just saying this to make his job easier?

  She pressed her lips together. Could she believe him?

  Skye had little choice as Kevin pulled her along. He led her in a different direction this time—through a maze of corridors before they reached a different lab.

  Once they arrived, he quickly left, almost turning on his heel to make his escape.

  Skye stood where Kevin left her, watching as he waved two guards over and stationed them at the door. Then she let her gaze drift around the room as she shifted her feet against the tile floor.