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

by Maira Dawn

  Skye sobbed. “I don’t—”

  “If you finish that with ‘know nothing’, it starts now.”

  Skye sank her head to her sodden knees. There was no way out of this. She had to give them something. “I saw her leave. That’s all,” she whispered.

  “Good girl. Now tell us more.”

  “There is no more.”

  The brawny guard wrapped a hand around Skye’s throat. “There is more.” He smiled. “I don’t want to do this. You are making me do this.”

  Skye took in his expression of delight. It wasn’t true. He enjoyed torturing.

  When she stared at him, he tightened the hand around her neck and pushed down toward the water.

  Skye flailed.

  Water slapped the sides of the tub and splashed over the edges, soaking Cliff.

  He held her head just above the water. It edged along her cheeks.

  He pushed her closer.

  Water crept toward her nose and mouth. Skye clawed at his hand.

  At a nod from Cliff, a second guard held her legs.

  “What else do you have to say?” Cliff barked.

  Skye shook her head.

  “What else? Last time.”

  Skye pressed her lips together. There was nothing she could say that would make him happy.

  Cliff shoved Skye until her head hit bottom. Her already shaken brain pounded. She let out an unheard scream. Bubbles floated to the surface.

  Cliff’s muffled voice drifted to her. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m keeping you down no matter how much air you let go.”

  Skye wrapped her hands around his thick arm, clawing at it.

  The hard man’s image waved above her. Would he kill her? Would Devon even care? The scientist could get all the blood he wanted if it no longer needed to sustain her.

  Skye’s lungs strained. She resisted the need to inhale, but she didn’t have long. What could she tell them?

  Nothing about the note Kelsey left at the pawnshop. Never that.

  But something—enough to satisfy them.

  The need to inhale grew almost unbearable. She tightened her grip on Cliff’s arm.

  He chuckled.

  Her body begged for a breath. Skye flailed, kicking the stomach of the guard who held her feet.

  Cliff’s eyes brightened. He raised her head and banged it against the iron tub again.

  Skye almost gasped. Her brain swirled. Her lungs burned with need.

  Her body began its fight for life, Skye felt it shudder and buck. She banged on Cliff’s arm, hoping for some kind of mercy.

  There was none.

  The man watched her with intense interest, his face covered with glee.

  She lost focus. Skye’s nose and mouth quivered.

  Left with no choice, she inhaled—not precious air but an invading enemy—water.

  Liquid filled her nose and ran down her throat.

  Her body trembled. It seemed odd and out of sync with the rest of her. As if an entity of its own, it shuddered as it realized what was happening.

  She was dying.

  Strangely, something like relief filled her. It was out of her hands now.

  On Skye’s third quake, Cliff raised her limp body out of the water and laid her over the side of the tub, hooking her ribs over the edge. He pounded her back so hard that some small part of her, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, was sure her ribs would break.

  Skye didn’t move, but drifted in and out of consciousness, certain Cliff’s banging would only hasten her death.

  How she wished she could have seen her Love one more time. Hear his rumbling voice calling her darlin’, telling her everything would be okay.

  Cliff thumped her back again. What did he think would happen? She was too far gone for this to help now.

  Skye slipped head-first toward the floor.

  Cliff pulled her limp body over his knees and thumped on her back some more.

  When the liquid came, it came all at once—just like with the AgFlu. Water streamed from her mouth and nose, hitting the floor with such force it bounced back at her.

  Skye pushed against the floor with weak arms.

  Cliff shoved her back down.

  Skye choked and sputtered, but only pulled in a tiny ribbon of air. She stilled, careful not to lose that lifeline.

  Gradually, she choked out the water. Her lungs still burned, but this time it was a good burn—it meant she would live.

  Again, she pushed against the floor and away from Cliff. This time he allowed it.

  After a few minutes, she used the lip of the tub to stand.

  “Where do you think you are going?”

  Skye waved toward her room.

  Cliff crossed his arms and laughed. “We’re not done here yet. You’re going back into that tub.”

  Skye wilted and shook her head.

  “Skye, you haven’t told me what I wanted to know yet,” he said, scolding her as if she were a child. “This won’t be over until you cooperate.”

  Skye covered her mouth to stop the sob that threatened.

  Cliff reached toward her.

  She flinched.

  He ran a finger down her wet hair. “It’s simple, honey. Just tell me something, and this will be all over.”

  Skye stared at the floor.

  “Fill the tub. Cold water,” Cliff told the other guard.

  Skye listened to the rush of water, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Something. She had to give him something.

  She felt his eyes on her, waiting for her to break.

  When the tub was full, Cliff stood. “Come on. Get in there.”

  If he thought she would voluntarily step in there, he was crazy.

  She refused to budge.

  With rough hands, he pulled her up. When she fought him, he slapped her until her head rang.

  He slammed her into the frigid water. “Tell me!”

  Panic overtook her.

  He recognized the instant she broke. A satisfied gleam lit in his eyes.

  Cliff pulled her head from the water. She reached for him. She would have reached for anyone to get out of this situation.

  “Please,” she begged, her teeth chattering, her mind screaming. A wrong move on her part now would mean she would go under the water again. Cliff was waiting for any excuse.

  He held a hand to her throat. “You know what you have to do.”

  “Please.” She wrapped her arms around his. “Let me out and I will tell you everything.”

  “Tell me now.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll kill me, anyway.”

  “Oh, honey. Where’s the fun in that? Almost killing. That’s where the fun is.”

  Skye laid her head against his arm and cried.

  Cliff ran a hand over her long, dark hair. “It’s okay now. Just say it and I’ll get you out of here. Okay?”

  Skye nodded. She couldn’t do this any longer. She needed to say something now.

  Skye’s raspy voice quivered. “We said if we escaped, we would go home.”

  “Where is home?”

  Skye hesitated. She needed to stay close enough to the truth that he would believe her, but far enough away for Kelsey to be safe. Her hesitation earned her punishment.

  His hand tightened around her throat.

  “West Virginia!” she gasped out.

  “Where in West Virginia?”

  “Fenton.” Skye almost mumbled the word. The Interstate forked at Fenton. If everything went well, Kelsey would have made it past there by now.

  The guard stared at Skye.

  Tears started again, flooding her eyes. “That’s all I know. We didn’t have a plan. We didn’t, I promise.”

  Skye stiffened as Cliff pulled her close to him, his breath drying the wet skin on her face. “Devon thinks you are his, but you’re mine now, you got that? I broke you.”

  She wanted to fight and punch and scream that it wasn’t true, but that would only get her further punishment. Instead, she stayed
still, as if happy to be there. Let him think what he wanted.

  Sonora had promised to be back within the day. Kelsey was out there trying to get home. Someone would help her, even if she could not help herself.

  Cliff rested his hand on the back of her bruised head, smoothing his hand along it as if the movement would stop the hurting.

  “Come on, let’s get you up and out of these wet clothes,” he said.

  She tried to stand twice, but her shaky limbs refused to work.

  Cliff smiled, happy with his results.

  “It’s okay,” Cliff said as he and the other two guards removed her wet jeans and t-shirt, leaving Skye in her underwear. He wrapped a large towel around her, picked her up, and carried her to the bed where he gently laid her.

  “Here.” Cliff shoved a glass of water and some pain medicine into Skye’s hands. “You’ll want this.”

  Skye wanted to resist every supposed kindness. The man was trying to condition her. But she had no strength, and she needed the medication.

  Skye glanced from one guard to the other as they settled into chairs.

  A knock sounded at the door, Cliff opened the door to two more guards. One he ordered onto the balcony and the other to stand outside in the hallway. Sydney stood across from the bed, eyes on the floor.

  Tears rolled over Skye’s face, soaking her pillow.

  Five guards? How would she ever get home to Jesse and Dylan now?

  Skye closed her eyes and imagined Dylan’s arms holding her tight.

  She drifted to sleep, to the sound of his voice telling her everything would be okay—he was coming for her.

  Thirty-Four

  The Table

  Skye woke to Cliff standing over her, his rough hand shaking her shoulder.

  “Doc wants to see you,” he said.

  An icy shiver ran down her spine.

  She threw Cliff a glance and mumbled, “Don’t touch me.”

  He burst out laughing. “Make me stop.” But he walked away.

  With care, Skye stood, making sure the towel Cliff had wrapped around her stayed in place. She picked up some clothes and went into the bathroom.

  Cliff stared at her but didn’t stop her.

  Once she’d closed the door to the bathroom, Skye let the towel drop as she looked in the mirror.

  Her forehead had a large bruise as did the side of her face and her neck.

  Skye ran a hand over her stomach where light bruising had started. She poked at it and winced.

  After examining her tender scalp, she gingerly combed her knotted hair.

  Outside the door, the guards talked and laughed. Skye sighed. She’d done everything she could so they would trust her, hoping for less supervision, and now this. Four guards. And Cliff.

  Skye clung to the sink, refusing to slump to the floor in despair.

  How would she get through this? Was day after day be like this, at the mercy of Devon and Cliff, until she ended up like the people on those metal tables?

  Skye tried to push away her depressing thoughts. Other people had gone through worse. She’d handle what they threw at her somehow. But her fears pressed back, refusing to leave.

  Skye raised her teary gaze to the mirror and imagined Dylan there.

  She ached for the vision to be real—yearned to turn and feel his firm embrace around her.

  She couldn’t have that—not right now. But she could still take strength from him.

  “What’s done is done,” he’d say. “Now, what are ya gonna do about it?”

  She couldn’t wallow in her feelings. She needed to move ahead. Skye would have to regain trust somehow.

  “I hope I make the right choices, love,” Skye whispered as Dylan’s image wavered. “The ones that lead me back to you.”

  “Stay alive, darlin’. I’m coming for you.”

  Skye sobbed as he disappeared, leaving only her beaten face in the reflection.

  After wiping her tears away, she pulled on her jeans and t-shirt while berating herself for losing focus.

  She needed to keep Dylan shoved in that little corner of her mind until she was ready to let him out. A clear head is what she needed. The emotion he evoked was overwhelming.

  But even as she scolded herself, memories of him flooded her.

  His slow smile, the way his eyes brightened when he saw her, evenings by the fire.

  Skye pressed her lips together and held back the sadness.

  She told herself that Dylan was fine, he was on his way, and soon she would be out of this evil place. Then they would go to the mountain together.

  That was it. That was the story—their story. She just had to get through one hour at a time until she heard his voice.

  She pushed against the countertop, standing as straight as her hurt stomach would allow.

  After making sure she tucked Dylan away, Skye walked out of the bathroom.

  Cliff stood just outside the door.

  Skye almost vomited.

  Of course he was.

  “We will not tell Doc about our little fun here. You got it?”

  She narrowed her eyes at Cliff. “I want some breakfast.”

  Cliff nodded his head at one of his underlings, who handed her a protein bar.

  Skye looked at it with a wry expression. “You’d think the world would be out of these by now.” She tore the wrapper open and choked the dry granola bar down.

  Cliff motioned everyone toward the hallway and positioned two guards in front of her and two in the back as if she were a dangerous criminal. Cliff walked beside her.

  Skye kept her eyes on the floor as she steamed. It was a show of force. Cliff wanted her impressed.

  She was not.

  As they got closer to Devon’s lab, two guards broke off while the other two escorted her in.

  Devon eyed the group before his gaze landed on Skye.

  “Where is Sydney?”

  “Sick,” Cliff answered.

  Devon nodded before going to Skye and taking her hands. His gaze slid over her bruised face, then ignored the injuries.

  “Skye, dear, I have such news to tell you! Sit, sit.” He pulled her to the desk, waving her into a chair. Devon scooted another chair from behind the desk closer to her.

  His eyes were bright, almost feverish. “Do you remember our conversation about the Atlantians?”

  Skye wanted to sigh, but pressed her lips together and nodded.

  This again? But if it made him happy to prattle on about imaginary beings, she would let him.

  “Of course you do,” Devon continued. “We all have common DNA with them. They are, after all, mostly human, though I am loathed to admit it on most occasions. However, as I mentioned before, Atlantians also have DNA humans don’t have. But then, some humans like yourself have more DNA in common with them than others.”

  Devon’s explanation seemed disjointed. Was he sliding further into his delusions?

  He frowned. “I’m not sure how that happened, though I have my suspicions. But you, Skye, you share some of that same mysterious DNA.”

  He waited—as if she’d won the lottery and should jump up and down—before going on. “People like you will help me clarify the mysteries of the disease.”

  Oh, really? Clarification. Was that what we were calling torture?

  Skye rubbed at the fiery boils lingering on her hand.

  Perhaps if she could dissuade him from this fantasy, he would stop the experiments.

  “Devon, how would I have gotten this DNA?”

  “From an ancestor, of course.”

  A memory flashed, but she scoffed at the idea and pushed it away. “But that makes no sense. I’d know about something like that.”

  Devon waved his hand at her. “Leave those things with me, dear. I’m an expert. Just know you’ll be treated like royalty here because you, Skye, are going to save humankind.”

  Skye’s stomach clenched. “And how am I going to do that?”

  “We are going to see how strong you are
.”

  “Strong?”

  “I’m going to give you every disease known to humankind and chart each one. I’m going to see if you are closer to them or us.”

  Sickness rose in Skye’s throat. “How long will this take?”

  “Years, dear.” His eyes shone as he answered. “It will take years.”

  Skye’s gaze grew wider as she scanned the room. Already syringes lined the countertop. A tray full of scalpels and other shiny medical tools sat on a wheeled cart beside the dreaded metal table.

  Skye jerked in a breath and held it. Then spoke in a rush.

  “Devon, what use is this? Most people either had the AgFlu, or they haven’t. Soon, it will go just as so many other types of flu left. We don’t need a cure.”

  “Yes, Skye, we do.” Devon shook his head, a grave look in his eye. “I know we have lost a lot, but we can still save most of humankind.”

  He still thought the world was full of people. When was the last time he’d left this building?

  “No, we can’t. Most of the world is empty now. I’ve been out there. I know.”

  Devon chuckled. “Tsk, tsk, Skye. There is no getting out of this. We cannot delay.” He rose and walked to the metal table. He patted it. The table gave an ominous ring. “Hop up, Skye.”

  Skye jumped to her feet. Her chair scraped backward as she glanced at the door.

  Cliff and another guard barred her path.

  “No, Devon. Let’s talk about this,” Skye gasped.

  “I’ve never felt that talking solves anything.” Devon nodded to Cliff, and the guard moved toward Skye.

  She scrambled backward. “You can’t allow this, Cliff. He will murder me.”

  Cliff shrugged. “I don’t care what he does to you as long as me and mine do okay.”

  It was useless. She knew it. But it wouldn’t stop her from trying.

  Skye turned and ran down the long room toward the door Devon often disappeared into. Maybe there would be a way out there.

  Cliff and the guard’s footsteps slapped the tile floor behind her.

  Skye focused on the door. She was almost there. Reaching out a hand, her fingers grazed the cool silver knob.

  Something hard exploded against the back of her head.

  Skye dropped into darkness.