by Maira Dawn
Thirty-Five
A Slim Chance
Skye blinked her eyes at Cliff’s image as it blurred above her. Her head still rang from the blow.
Cliff grabbed her trembling body from the floor, walked to the metal table, and dropped her onto its surface.
Skye’s head bounced, the steel and her skull ringing. Her ankle caught the bottom lip’s edge. Pain radiated around it.
Skye let out a scream that became a groan as darkness swirled around her.
She fought the blackness. Who knew what they would do to her if she passed out?
Skye tried to pull her foot up over the table’s edge.
A guard reached out and took both legs, holding them down.
Skye cried out, “My ankle. I think it’s broken.”
“It’s okay, dear. You won’t need to do much walking.”
Regardless of his words, Devon pushed the guard out of the way and looked at her foot. Skye ground her teeth and moaned as Devon rotated it.
“No. Not broken.” He patted her leg when he released it.
“But it hurts so much.”
“It’s fine. Pain can be good for us sometimes.”
The guard returned to his position and took her legs again. This time he seemed to have a sliver of empathy for her, and with a loose hand, held her hurt ankle.
Devon walked up to the head of the table, trailing his hand along it as he moved. “We’ve never had a female of your species here before. This is going to be interesting.”
“What are you talking about? I’m human!” Her voice broke.
Devon picked up a scalpel and inspected it. “Hold her down.”
Skye fought as the guards moved to either side of her.
With little effort, the big men pushed Skye back onto the table and held her there.
She squirmed, wrenching her arm from the guard on her right.
Cliff grabbed her head, squeezing it between his hands. “Each time you cause trouble, I cause trouble. Do you want me to show you?”
Skye glanced at Devon, hoping for help, but he simply waited for Cliff’s demonstration.
After everything Cliff had already done to her, she had no doubt he could hurt her.
“No.”
“Be good then.”
Skye squeezed her eyes closed. The metal instruments clacked against the tray beside her as Devon decided what to start with.
When it stopped, she opened her eyes.
Devon was coming at her with an IV stand. A bag with dark, almost ink-colored liquid swung from it.
She groaned as Devon wrapped a tourniquet around her arm, searching for options but finding only one.
She didn’t have to be awake for the cutting.
Skye gathered up as much saliva as her dry mouth could produce and spit in Cliff’s face.
For a moment, everything was still. Then Devon laughed. The other guards followed suit, chuckling under their breath.
“She’s a tough one,” Devon said, sounding like a proud father.
Cliff raised Skye’s head and shoulders off the table and slammed them down with such force Skye was sure her skull had broken in two.
Her brain flashed as if short-circuiting—everything came in pieces.
“See,” Cliff’s disjointed voice whispered during a flash. “I do what I want. He won’t stop me now.”
Everything turned dark—then light and dark again.
In the next flash, Devon stuck her with the IV needle. “Did you know, dear, that your people have larger hearts and lungs than humans do? It’s going to be interesting to find out if you also have them.”
The light left and returned.
She twisted her head, trying to examine her body. What had happened while she was unconscious?
But did it matter? She was as good as dead. She’d be a lifeless corpse soon.
If Devon didn’t kill her, Cliff surely would.
In fact, she would anger Cliff until he did. Then she wouldn’t suffer years of experimental torment.
Skye eyed the ominous IV now attached to her arm.
“Don’t worry,” Devon said, “only a bit of pain medicine. You see, I can be merciful.”
Skye eyed the grey-black bag. Pain medicine? Doubtful.
The scientist leaned closer to Skye. “I’m going to be digging a little deep today, so I thought you might need it.”
Her stomach turned, and a moan escaped her.
Something. She had to think of something.
“Devon, I’m not Atlantian. I have my—my family tree thing at my house. I can take you there. It goes back hundreds of years.”
“No need. DNA doesn’t lie, dear.”
Tears rose, flooding her eyes. She shook her head from side to side. “They aren’t real. Atlantian’s are not real. This is part of a disease. You have a mental disease, Devon. I’m a physiological doctor. Remember that.”
Devon stiffened. “It’s not my imagination!”
“Devon, I’m sorry. Atlantians aren’t real—just like Martians aren’t real.”
“They are!” His face flamed. “You just haven’t seen them!”
Cliff raised Skye’s head and waited for a signal from Devon.
She had one chance to say the right thing. “Then show me! You are going to do all this to me? I want to see one!”
Devon waved a hand. “Ask the guards, they know.”
“Have they seen one?”
The room got quiet. The guards shook their heads.
Skye threw down the challenge. “Show me an Atlantian, Devon. Not a picture of someone on a table. A real, live Atlantian swimming in the water!”
“Then you’ll cooperate? No problems?”
Devon continued his work, injecting an orange liquid into the IV bag. The color dissipated into the black.
Skye seemed queasy already.
Devon picked up a second vial.
“Yes,” she barked—anything to get him to stop. “I’ll cooperate.” Skye didn’t like to lie, but these were extreme circumstances.
Devon put down the vial. “Let her up, boys.”
Two guards hauled her over the lip of the table and dropped her on her feet.
Her ankle gave way, and her head swam.
Cliff reached for her.
Skye pushed him away. “Put me down! You make me sick!”
“You just wait until he gives me full leeway with you.” Cliff gave her a hard stare as he swung her up into his arms.
Skye suppressed the urge to vomit, ducked her head, and refused to look at him again.
As ill as Cliff made her, he wasn’t the biggest problem at the moment.
She needed to convince Devon he was mentally ill—seeing there was no substance behind his belief of Atlantians may do that.
Skye twisted to look at Devon. “How many people have seen an Atlantian?”
“Millions. They were on the Internet!”
Skye sighed. There had been some odd pictures circulating during the AgFlu crisis. “Devon. That was a hoax.”
“No. It was not.”
“Most people believe it was a prank. Some of your own people could be laughing at you.”
Devon glanced at the guards.
“Perhaps,” Skye pressed, “if you want your people to believe in what you are doing here, all of them should see this Atlantian.”
One guard uttered a low chuckle.
Devon came to an abrupt stop and narrowed his eyes.
“Seeing is believing, they say,” Skye added, hope rising.
Devon gave a quick nod. “Maybe you’re right. This place has grown since the pandemic’s beginning. It would be helpful for new ones to understand our primary purpose is to find a cure. That this isn’t only a place to find good shelter and abundant food. We are more than that.”
Devon started walking, his pace quickened.
Cliff zeroed in on Skye. “What are you up to?”
“You don’t want to look at one?” Skye mumbled.
The reality w
as she didn’t know what she was doing or if this would work, but it had gotten her off that table. Her best hope was that everyone would see that this so-called Atlantian was fake and revolt.
Skye’s heart soared as Devon waved a guard over and said, “Go on ahead of us. Tell them to gather everyone by the big tank.”
She had a chance. A slim one, to be sure, but it was something.
Thirty-Six
So Close
Dylan hiked his crossbow a little higher on his shoulder. He, Wade, and Kelsey stood on a small hill overlooking the town of Seaside. He’d left Jesse behind with Paul and the others, and the boy was spitting mad about it. But this wasn’t the time to troop the entire group through the brush. This was a scouting mission.
Dylan scanned the area. Seaside wasn’t a big place and could just as easily have been a small mountain town if one judged it by size alone.
But it was much more colorful or had been. His gaze lingered on the broken pink and orange umbrellas strewn across the streets, the bright blue window shutters hanging haphazardly by what looked like a single screw, and the overturned brilliant green lawn furniture.
A storm had gone through here. A bad one. But a while ago.
Dylan ran a hand over his chin. Apparently, there weren’t enough townsfolk to clean up, or they didn’t care anymore. Either way, there would be no help from this town. His men were on their own.
Kelsey pointed to a large concrete building sitting so close to the ocean that the blue waves almost lapped at its gray walls. “It’s there.”
Dylan nodded. It didn’t surprise him. The huge dome seemed out of place—much like an eerie house on a hill. It was imposing—and would be tricky to get into.
Dylan crouched and picked at the short seagrass with his fingertips as he examined it.
There were no windows on this side—only four large double entrance doors and a couple of single glass doors. Large wood planks sat on the right side of the building, presumedly to cover the glass. No doubt these people would lock this up tight if they sensed danger.
And activity—way too much activity for sneaking in on this side.
He blew out a breath. Maybe the other side?
Kelsey had told him about the rooms with balconies facing the ocean. Maybe if they waited until evening, they could get Skye out that way.
Dylan ran a hand through his hair and groaned inwardly. It was killing him he was this close and wasn’t able to storm in there and get her.
His eyes narrowed. Who knew what they were doing to her in there? Kelsey had spoken of experiments.
Ice slid down his spine. He couldn’t think about that now. He needed a clear head.
Kelsey moved to sit cross-legged beside him, patiently waiting for his take on the place.
“This doesn’t look good,” he said. “Remind me of the back again.”
Kelsey made a face. “Our rooms are three stories up. We’d need a grappling hook to throw up there.”
Dylan grunted. No better than what she’d said the first time.
Wade shifted, scraping his foot against the sandy soil. “Maybe we could get Skye’s attention. Have her throw out some sheets and shimmy down like you did, girl.”
“They may expect that now.” Kelsey rubbed her cheek. “What about going in the front? I could act like a captive. Once we’re in, I know where to go.”
Both men bristled at the idea. “Ain’t no way, that’s happening,” Wade blustered. “You just get that outta your head right now, you hear?”
Kelsey threw a hand toward the building. “But look! We don’t have many choices.”
Dylan understood. The front doors were open, and people trooped in and out of them on a regular basis. More than once they’d seen victims dragged into the building by scruffy-looking men.
Dylan looked at Wade and himself. They’d fit in, but there’d also be problems. Dylan shot a glance at Kelsey. “And what if they take you away when we get in there? Then we’d need to be tracking you down too—and you’d be no good gettin’ us around the place.”
Kelsey sighed. “Well, then, you’re going to have to come up with the idea.”
Dylan chuckled. The way the girl said it was like they hadn’t been doing that for years. Dylan patted her on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Kelsey. We’ll manage to piece somethin’ together.”
“Brother,” Wade said as he looked over his shoulder. “is this going to be one of those long stakeouts you like to do? Cause if so, I’m gonna need me a Coke. I saw a machine up there, and I’m fixin’ to get me a bottle.”
Dylan didn’t answer at first. Wade always did get antsy when he didn’t have something to do, but it’d be nice if occasionally his brother would give a man a minute to think.
He waved at Wade. “Go get it, if you want. Get me a water. And Wade—don’t go anywhere else.”
Wade blew out an irritated breath. “I ain’t a little kid you gotta boss around.” He scuffed his feet as he walked away.
The corner of Dylan’s mouth curved. Once Wade had his Coke, he’d settle.
“Get me one too, please,” Kelsey said to Wade’s retreating back.
He waved a hand at her.
Dylan watched people come and go from the Marine Center. A group would go in, there’d be a lull and another group would drive into the parking lot.
Kelsey was right, it was their way in, but Dylan didn’t want to put her in jeopardy even if the girl was sure it was possible to slip into the hallways and rescue to Skye.
Dylan winced. It hurt to even think of Skye’s name.
Who would’ve guessed that he’d ever be so hung up on a woman? But he hugged those feelings close to his heart, clung to them as if he was a drowning man grasping at some last bit of driftwood.
It didn’t matter that he’d been brought up to think love was a weakness. That was wrong, and he knew it now, even if it did try to crawl back into his head from time to time.
Skye had shown him there was strength in love, not weakness. And she was his love—his everything.
He would save her. Or die trying.
He was here, and she was right there in front of him. He had to get into that building and bring her home.
“Here, D,” Wade said as a heads up right before a bottle of water came sailing Dylan’s way.
Wade noisily sat on the ground with his legs out in front of him and handed Kelsey a Coke.
“So I had an epiphany,” Wade said as he twisted the cap off his bottle, smiling at the rush of air.
Dylan looked over at Wade and frowned. “An epiphany?”
“Yeah, it means a big idea.” Wade took a long drink of his soda with his eyes closed and sighed in contentment.
Dylan scoffed. “I know what epiphany means. I just wondered if you did.”
When Wade put the soda to his lips again, Dylan stopped him. “What? What’s your idea?”
“Kelsey doesn’t need to be a captive. But she’s too clean to fit in with the rough crowd down there. We need to dirty her up some, rip her clothes a bit, stick a cap on her. Then she could walk right in too.”
Dylan glanced at Kelsey.
Epiphany. This idea may just have been that important—close enough, anyway. Wade’s idea would be saving lives.
“Okay,” Dylan said. “Let’s go with your epiphany.”
Twenty minutes later, Kelsey walked beside Dylan loaded with weapons and more unkept than the two brothers put together after a long winter’s hunting trip.
No one would be messing with her.
Dylan eyed the large front doors, happy they’d driven the truck in and it sat behind them in the parking lot. It’d be a quick getaway if they needed it.
He swapped a glance with Wade as he murmured to Kelsey, “You stick close and keep your eyes open, ya hear?”
She nodded, her knuckles white on the rifle she gripped.
“Let us know where to go when we get in here.” Dylan switched the box he held from his right to his left arm.
; Most people took in something. If they didn’t have captives, they had boxes. Of what, Dylan didn’t know. But they’d stopped by a pawn shop Kelsey pointed out and picked up a few things that would, hopefully, be good enough to get them through the door.
The gray wall of the building seemed to grow taller as they got closer. Once he got a peek into the entrance, his heart fell.
People swarmed the lobby—many more than he expected. He’d planned for some small force of resistance. Twenty, maybe thirty men. Something his group could handle. Nothing on this scale.
The best he could hope for now is to sneak in and get Skye out, and that would be a lot trickier than being in control of the situation.
They were at the front doors when someone peeked out and yelled, “The Doc wants everyone in here. He’s gonna show us one of the mermen!”
Dylan shot a surprised glance at Wade. His brother’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline.
After the brightness outside, the inside of the Marine Center seemed dark.
Dylan gave his eyes a minute to adjust, then continued into the building. The lobby was massive—two stories high — and echoing with the noise of excited people. They had pushed old props and tables against the walls to make room for the crowd.
To their right were the ticket counters and restrooms. To the left was a solid wall that opened onto a large tank filled with murky water. Everyone gathered there.
Dylan set the box on a table and pushed it toward a woman.
She flustered. “I was just going to watch—” The woman pointed to the crowd.
Dylan nodded. “That’s fine. We’ll check in after.”
The woman agreed and rushed away.
Their little group hung around the edge of the gathering, ready to bolt if necessary.
People continued to flood into the room from connected hallways. Dylan reckoned there were already about a hundred people, and he hoped it stopped soon.
He scanned the crowd, looking for Skye. If he didn’t find her, maybe this would be the opportunity to slip away to her room.
The crowd murmured, “The Doc’s coming.” As one, they turned to watch the hallway doors.
Through it came five men and Skye.