The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3

by Felisha Antonette

  “Your boyfriend’s back, and you leave your big brother, huh?”

  I smile brightly. “Yes. That’s how that works.” I frown as I realize the term Luke used. “But I don’t think he’d call me his girlfriend. ‘We are only hugs and kisses, Ky,’” I mock Marc.

  “Right. And stop hugging and kissing,” Luke orders, but he goes ignored as I leave his room.

  The house has calmed. There are a couple of voices downstairs in the den, Sean and Fein. The projector light shines into the living room. They must be hanging out in there for the evening.

  I cross the hall to Marc’s room and tap before opening the door. He’s lying on his back, watching me enter. “Sorry I walk in your room without an invitation.”

  “You’re comfortable.”

  “I don’t think that’s it.” I lean my back against the door. “I did that before I became comfortable with you.”

  “Are you going to hold up the door or come over here?”

  Jitters sink into my stomach, making my legs shake. Nervously, I cross the floor and lie beside him. “Um, I don’t know if this is appropriate or not. But I missed you. A lot.”

  “It’s not, but I’ll share that with you.” He pulls me closer to him.

  “That’s good.”

  He holds me as he rests his head against my neck. “You were turned into a Zombie, huh?”

  I adjust to meet his tired gaze. For the second that I stare, I come to terms that this will never end, and it’s pointless for me to continue to try, knowing I’ll always come back here. To his arms. “I don’t really want to talk.”

  He touches up my back. “Then what?”

  It’s a little tough to breathe as I fight my nerves. I bite the inside of my cheek before deciding to kiss him. Oxygen pushes itself easily through my lungs as we indulge in the contact.

  He sits up, and my kiss grows greedy as I climb onto his lap, knees bent at his sides. We lock eyes, and I find serenity in the lighter hue of his purple eyes as he relaxes with me. His relaxation always takes me aback because Creations never relax, and though many will let their hair down sometimes, Marc’s is always tied as tight as a knot.

  I look him over and stroke his loose, soft hair. The world slows down as I stare at him, looking back and forth at each of his eyes. I even breathe slower, matching the passing of time.

  It remains slow when I return his kiss, and tingles burst throughout my entire body. A sensation I’ve never experienced. It makes me more nervous. But I think I know this feeling. “Marc, I…” I take a slow breath that takes all of me. It’s so hard to breathe, preparing to say this. “I…I’m sure, I mean, I know…I love you,” I utter slowly.

  His hooded eyebrows rise a centimeter, but his mouth doesn’t move. He breathes, distressed, “Ky.”

  “Just, don’t say anything.” The world takes back its normal rotation of time, and I’m not ready for Marc’s rejection. “I just needed to…to tell you that.” I clear my throat. I needed to say it aloud, at least once, to see if it made more sense coming out of my mouth than staying trapped in my head. It doesn’t. It still sounds ludicrous. I should’ve kept it in. Is it too late to take it back?

  “I know, Ky.”

  That wasn’t the feedback I was expecting, and it makes me sick. I look him over again, growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. “I’m going to go.”

  When I move, he holds me still. “Hold up, Ky. I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” He lies back down and turns us so he’s over me. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. Are you?”

  I’m nervous. More nervous than I’ve ever been. But I think it’s because I admitted my feelings that I’m not supposed to acknowledge. I don’t expect him to feel the same as me, but I hoped he would. I swallow hard. “No,” I say quietly.

  “You’re okay if I kiss you?”

  “Yes. Kiss me.” And take this insecurity away.

  Leaning down, he kisses me, holding my affection on his lips and, as I’d hoped, my doubts wash away.

  His gentle kisses make me want more, and I can’t take it. I drag him closer to me, and as he kisses my neck, I tell him, “Touch me.”

  Against my skin, he asks, “Where?”

  I sigh when his tongue slides over my collarbone. “Everywhere,” I purr.

  Under my shirt, his hands are icy, sliding over my rib cage to my hips, making me shiver. Electric pricks are on his fingertips and palms, and the tingle in my body makes my legs tighten at his sides and my breaths shake. I sigh again as he continues to explore my body and kiss against me.

  He’s doing nothing, but doing everything to me, and I can’t get enough.

  Coming back, he places a kiss to my mouth, and his hips rock against mine. It makes my trembling legs quake. I love it and hate it. Hating that I can’t get a grip on myself when I’m with him.

  “Ky,” he mutters, “holding back is getting complicated.”

  “Holding back from what?”

  “Nothing, I’ll be right back. Don’t leave.” He leaves his room.

  I count the seconds he’s gone as I snap myself out of this trance, getting rid of my jitters, nerves and other feelings I can’t explain.

  Five minutes later, he returns to lie next to me. “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Yes.” He pushes his arm under and around me, and I lie on his shoulder. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Ky.”

  Well, those tables turned quickly. I’m slightly disappointed. It was getting kind of hot. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll work on it tomorrow.”

  “Don’t take it the wrong way.”

  I ignore him, moving my arm over his stomach and hugging his side. It’s comfortable, and because I’m so tired, I doze off quickly.

  Chapter Twenty

  The wind is heavy, blowing the morning dew, as Luke and I race across the obstacle course. It’s not as hot as it’s been, and the breeze is refreshing. I left my hair down, and the freedom from allowing the light brown strands to whip around and enjoy the breeze is stimulating.

  I hit the wall, quickly climbing it. Luke and I are on each other’s tails, gaining inches on each other.

  The ground is hard, despite the moisture in the air. I jump from the wall, landing hard, feeling the shock rack my legs. Up and over or down and under, I clear the six sets of logs and quickly come upon the barbed wire. Relief hits me on the third run when we are crawling through the tunnel.

  Finish line in sight, it’s only three feet away from me, but Luke’s zipping past me. I didn’t even see him coming. I bend over on my knees, catching my breath. “I’m done,” I say through heaving breaths. “That’s four laps of this course.”

  Luke slaps my back, and I jerk from the abruptness of the strike. “Let’s go eat breakfast, Ky.”

  “As long as we’ve been out here,” I start, straightening, “breakfast is over.”

  “We haven’t been out that long. Can you run back?”

  If I tell him no, he’ll force me to run anyway. “Yes.” He takes off. Shaking my head, I force myself to run after him.

  He was right. We grab our food and sit at our usual table. I’m talking myself out of stabbing Collins with my fork, juggling it between my fingers. Her presence has begun to annoy me. She must know what she’s doing, and she has to be doing this stuff on purpose. One day she’s flirting with Luke; another day she’s flirting with Marc.

  Sir Jord clears his throat, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The bridges have been placed, and the labs are finished. Luke, Kylie, Cory, Hanley, Collins, Cecilia, Marc, and Sean will go out for a final sweep. Respond!”

  “We understand!”

  Hands drawn behind his back and head bowed, Jord strides out into the morning. Lately, he’s seemed a little detached from everyone. He gives direct orders; he doesn’t check in on anyone, requiring Luke to do it instead, and he hangs his head with every departure. He hasn�
��t been himself.

  The group of us called to sweep the new area for the labs head out at noonday. We drive the Humvees ten miles from base, across open desert land to the hole. The sun sparkles against the platinum beams that make up the bridge. We exit the vehicles.

  Sean says, “Looks like they went all out on this garbage.” He slams his door and draws his M27 IAR to his chest, one hand gripped around the handle and the other near the barrel. The magazine of his firearm holds fifty rounds of the Creation Zombie bullets. Sean is an excellent shot. He prefers landing two in the body, one in the heart and one in the head. “For good measure,” he always says. I’ve not yet seen him waste a bullet, so it’s comforting, knowing he’s with us.

  The Zombies are peaceful as we cross the sturdy bridges they’ve built over the hole. The bridge extends a half mile on to the land, directly to the entrance of the labs. They’re single level but well over thirty-two-hundred square feet. The well-constructed silver, oval-shaped building is placed in the middle of the desert. Windows make up the majority of the walls, making it easy for onlookers to view their experiments. It’s likely, though, there are lower levels where more in-depth experimenting goes on.

  The objective here is to make it such a popular landing, the Zombies will no longer flock over here, and any remaining will be shot down. If they were to fill this hole, that may work, but as long as there is dwelling for the Zombies, they’ll remain here. I peer over the railing, down into the twenty-foot hole. Once the Zombies are under control in our area, they’ll give the word for us to move out throughout the country to the highest populations of infestations. I’m more than happy to join that fight.

  We’ll sweep the labs now to make sure they’re clear for the scientists to take up residence by this evening.

  The two bridges stretch fifty-three yards over the hole. They were dropped down by choppers, evenly spaced apart and drilled into the ground by the ground workers. The posts built into the hole are made of steel and concrete and are a convenient feature for the Zombies to climb and attack the labs.

  It’s not my job to judge their architectural ability. I just protect it.

  “There is no coming back from falling down there,” Sean says. “They may look dormant now, with the sun up, but I bet if one of us was to go down there, they would tear us to shreds.”

  “While they eat us,” I say, remembering what it felt like to be one. “They can bomb this hole a million times, and there would still be Zombies.”

  “Why do you think they are like cannibals anyway?”

  I shrug, and Luke responds, “That may be how they process what is food. Like a wolf and a dog. A wolf and a dog aren’t the same, but they are both a part of the canine family. You bring a dog to a pack of wolves, they will tear it to shreds. We aren’t like them but look like them, like the dog and the wolves.”

  I survey him, processing his explanation. Seems logical. “What would make you think of that?”

  Luke shrugs. “It makes sense, the same with a lion and a tiger.”

  “If you put a tiger with a lion,” Sean begins. “The tiger would win.”

  “The tiger would never win against a lion,” Marc says in a condescending tone. “Lions dominate tigers.”

  “I agree,” I say.

  Luke says, “Lions would win because they attack in packs, but tigers are loners. Give them a one-on-one brawl, male against male, that would be worth watching.”

  “It would be interesting to watch,” Sean says in amusement.

  I bump Sean’s shoulder and give him an eager nod.

  Cory clears his throat. “Are you all focused on the task at hand or worried about lions and tigers?”

  If Cory didn’t resent us, he would include himself in this conversation too.

  We make it to the other end of the bridge, and the eight of us look at each other and then to the second bridge. We laugh, realizing we should have split up to test the sturdiness of both bridges at once.

  The lab is surrounded by nothing but land. A few cacti and desert plants bring a little life to the area, but there are no sights but the mountains and hills in the distance. They are like a backdrop to this bright, silver and glass structure. We split up in twos. Luke and I walk to the far end of the lab. From the outside, it looks empty, and it’s quiet, apart from the gusty winds.

  “Ready?” I ask Luke, loading my gun. I raise my arm, waiting for him to meet it, confirming he’s ready.

  He loads his gun before bumping my arm and the side of my fist. “Ready.”

  Upon our approach, the glass doors part. We enter, smacked with the scent of chemical-based cleaners and fresh paint. The air is hot and still. We could hear a pin drop.

  Though we entered through different entry doors, our group meets in the middle of the open room. The matte metal floor and white columns brighten up the open area. On the right side of the room are sectioned off stalls, the size of small bedrooms, with white beds. On the outer sides of the stalls are two closed off rooms. Blue doors lead into them. They’re closed. In the back of the building are two white doors that lead to offset rooms, attached to the building on the outside. Inside the room, it’s dark; maybe the last stop.

  There are two glass rooms to our left. I take one, and Luke takes the other. Nothing but examination tables and a few chairs occupy the room. A couple of small refrigerators with glass doors line a far wall, and multiple monitors are mounted on the wall in the corners.

  No Zombies.

  “Clear,” I say, my voice echoing through the building.

  “Clear,” the rest follow.

  “That was quick,” I say to Luke, meeting him back in the center of the room.

  He nods. “That’s why they sent eight people. They didn’t want this to take all day.”

  “Exactly,” Cory says, coming over. “Now, let’s clear out. Head back before dinner.”

  “Yeah, we wouldn’t want to be caught out here when those Zombies wake up,” Sean says, laughing. “We’ll be the dog in a pack of wolves.” He and Marc laugh.

  I never get his jokes, but I’m inclined to agree.

  We head back, this time splitting up to cross both bridges. Collins and Cory walk with Marc and me across the bridge we all crossed on our way to the labs. Luke, Sean, Hanley, and Cecilia take the other. The two bridges are spaced about five hundred feet apart. The wind has picked up and shakes the structure slightly. I make a mental note to report this to Jord when we return.

  Collins and Cory are far ahead of Marc and me, already halfway across, racing against each other for the end.

  “I would say he and I hate each other equally,” Marc says.

  “I would have to agree with you.” I chuckle. “That may have happened after the whole kiss in the rec hall, then the fight when you repeatedly expressed your dislike for him by punching him in the face.”

  Marc’s brows knit. “You think that’s what gave it away?”

  I laugh.

  He walks ahead, giving the bridge a closer look.

  It’s the length of the bridge that makes it so easy for the wind to rattle it. They’re going to need more posts in order to support the stretch of heavy metal and steel to make it more stable. Cory and Collins jumping and flipping at the bridge’s end isn’t helping. Collins is flipping from the floor or the railings while Cory, with his arms long enough to reach both on the left and right, balances himself, swinging his legs back and forth and into a backflip. Every time either of them lands on the bridge, it sends a vibration all the way down, and the rattling echoes through the hole.

  I’m a mile from them, with Marc pretty far ahead of me. He stalls, examining the floor of the bridge, noticing the excessive shaking as I have. He throws a glance behind him to me. “Looks like a sandstorm is rolling in, Ky. Let’s hurry across.” He waves me on.

  North of us, a thick orange cloud is crawling toward us. A heavy gust of wind causes the bridge to lean slightly. I grab hold of the railing, catching Marc throw his rifle strap over hi
s shoulder.

  At the same moment, Collins flips, accidently kicking Cory in the back. He shoves the railings further apart, causing one to snap off. I watch it break, clink by clink, and I try to break away from it before it breaks where I’m standing, but I’m too late.

  I fall over, just catching the bottom of the railing by the tips of my fingers. I pant, adjusting to get a better grip.

  “Ky!” Marc calls, echoing Luke. He asks, “You okay?” as he also holds on for dear life.

  My stomach is calming from the fall, and I’ve lost my gun. It’s now down there with the Zombies and the fence.

  “I got it,” I call, maneuvering to get a better grip of the bar. Marc is less than a half mile from me, and we have so far to go before we make it to the end. The bottom railing is made up of multiple linked bars as one long one may not have been able to securely stretch the length of the bridge.

  I need to shuffle my grip from one section to the next. My shoulders are already sore, and my back is screaming for me to release the bar from which I hang and relax. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t go four rounds on the course with Luke this morning. The wind isn’t helping, shifting my dangling body as I figure out a plan of execution.

  Marc’s not moved, appearing to be waiting on me. “Go,” I urge. “I’ll make it.”

  He nods and begins swinging from one bar to another as if they were monkey bars.

  I nod to myself. That’s a good idea. I throw my weight to reach the next bar. Grabbing it, the steel snaps off. I hold it in my hand, studying it as if it would give me an answer as to why it broke off. I drop it and watch it plummet to the group of moseying Zombies beneath me.

  Fine...

  I try again, throwing myself to reach the next bar. Grasping it, I can tell it’s sturdy, and I sigh with relief. I swing from one bar to the next, yelling to Luke. After he asks me for the third time if I have it, I yell, “Shut up! I got it! Give me a break, Luke!” He doesn’t hear me, though I do my best to shout over the wind.

  The bar snaps in my hand, hanging on by one side. Gravity yanks me down, and I hurry to grip the skinny steel in both my hands. My heart’s pounding, and my ears are ringing. Palms growing sweaty, I struggle to hold on.