Table of Contents
Cover
Titlepage
Copyright
In the News
Part I: The Denial
Dr. Harrison's Journal, Day 237
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Questioned Loyalty
Dr. LeMercier's Journal
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Training Day
Dr. LeMercier's Journal
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Part II: The Initiation
Kill or be Killed
Dr. LeMercier's Journal
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Stalking Memories
Dr. LeMercier's Journal
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Forced Fealty
Dr. Harrison's Journal
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Threat Engaged
Stolen Memories
Dr. LeMercier's Journal
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Stolen Victory
Dr. LeMercier's Journal
Part III: The Acquiescence
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Bitter Truth
Dr. Harrison's Journal
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Part IV: Assassin Reborn
Abandoned
A Note from Dakota Harrison
Chapter Twenty-Four
Books by Christine Fonseca
Author's Note
Acknowledgements
About the Author
OUTBREAK (The Solomon Experiments, Book #2)
Copyright © 2016 by Christine Fonseca.
March 2016 Edition
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For information visit: www.ChristineFonseca.com
Cover Design: Lisa Amowitz
Editing: Jen Hendricks
Proofing: Erika Fonseca
Interior Design: NovelNinjutsu.com
Author Photo: Fabiana Fonseca
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Summary
Dakota Harrison wants everything to forget about her past. But when a new assassin comes to kill her and everyone she loves, she discovers there is more to LeMercier’s plans than she ever could have imagined. Now she must choose between finding a normal life or embracing her past and stopping LeMercier before he destroys what’s left of her family.
A large fire destroyed what was thought to be an old abandoned home in the Fingerlakes region of New York last month. Firefighters said a small explosion on the south end of the property, close to Lake Cayuga, fueled the blaze. Arson investigators found no evidence of accelerants, bombs, or other explosive devices, and have concluded that the explosion and fire were likely accidental. However, this investigator has uncovered proof to suggest otherwise. The home, a sprawling estate in Aurora, included the main house and five additional buildings. Research into the history of the property indicates that it once belonged to Dr. Benjamin LeMercier, lead researcher in the now debunked Project Stargate experiments. LeMercier bought the property in 2000. Information from town residents indicates rumors that LeMercier was working for the government, conducting experiments similar to Project Stargate. Although government officials deny any involvement with Dr. LeMercier after the failure of Project Stargate, Aurora residents are certain LeMercier’s work continued in the field of psychic abilities. “He’s creating his own, personal X-Men army out there,” said one resident. “I’m certain the government is behind everything.” Dr. LeMercier’s body was not recovered after the fire, leaving this reporter to wonder if we’ve heard the last of this doctor and his unusual experiments.
– Syracuse Chronicle, March 18, 2016
Project Stargate 2.0
The Solomon Experiments
Dr. Christyn Harrison’s Personal Journal –
February 21, 2003
Day 237:
It’s time. I must move the children before it’s too late. Ben already suspects I’m no longer with him. His trust in the children waivers. They must leave before it’s too late, before they die or kill all of us.
The recruits are not the only children I worry about. There are others. How long until Ben searches for more recruits? How long until he discovers all of my secrets? I must protect them, guard them—my secrets, the children, all of it.
I must protect him.
I’ve managed to keep my thoughts buried, beyond the reach of Ben or the others. But for how long? Dakota and Josh grow more powerful each day. I’m not certain if I will be able to keep this truth from them forever. I don’t know if I want to.
I must take action now. Move the children, modify their memories, teach them to forget their skills. It is the only way to keep them safe from Ben and his plans. It pains me to know how much the memory modification will take from them. Especially Dakota. She can’t know what she’s become. I can’t let that future dominate her destiny. And I can’t ever let her know about him.
This is the only way—for their safety.
For his.
I fear my plan won’t work, that they are already too strong to succumb to the modifications. What then? How will I ensure their safety? I’ve been studying new ways to change their memories, to destroy any chance that they will know the truth. But the process has its drawbacks. Josh is strong, he’ll survive. Dakota is strong as well. But if she fights me, if her powers have grown too much, the process may damage her. Maybe even kill her.
It’s a risk I’ll have to chance. I have no choice.
My plans have to work . . .
It’s the only way . . .
September 4, 2016
My eyes open, at least I think they do. I feel the muscles contract, feel my eyes move from side to side. But I can’t discern shapes or colors. Only a vast emptiness that fills every inch of space around me.
I draw in a deep breath, hoping my other senses can fill the void in front of me and make sense of the chaos. The air is heavy, stale, empty. It holds me where I lay, tying me to this spot. I can’t move, can’t see.
I push my arms away from me. They don’t comply, unable to remove themselves from the invisible binds formed by the air. Again I try. Again I fail.
My mind unravels. My skin brushes up against something hard and unyielding. Wood, I think. Was it always there? The air clings to my body, growing more heavy, more stale. I search my thoughts for a memory, a clue—something that can fill in the missing pieces and tell me what has happened. The more I push, the less I remember. The more my sense of dread expands.
“Wake up! Wake up!” The words—my words—feel hollow against the pitch of darkness. Again I tell myself to wake. I pray that this is just a nightmare, some trick of my overactive thoughts. It can’t be an attack. Not now, not here.
Definitely not here.
I stab the fleshy part of my index finger with my
thumbnail. Wincing from the sharp pain, I wait. Nothing changes. The world is still black. The air is still too heavy, too oppressive. I still can’t move, trapped against the unyielding wood of a . . .
Box.
My mind circles around the reality slamming against my conscious thought. I am in a box. In the ground.
Buried.
Alive.
My hands twitch, desperate to find a way to get to my throat and release my invisible bindings. My lungs clench as my airway closes. My eyes begin to bulge. I need oxygen. Don’t panic, Dakota. Stay calm. Again I attempt to move. Nothing. The more frantic I become, the more the oxygen escapes my lungs. My mouth falls open and soundless screams escape. Terror seizes my thoughts, my body.
This is it—death.
It won’t be long now.
My vision blurs until my eyes roll back in oblivion. I’ll be unconscious in seconds.
Dead.
“Dakota.”
My thoughts wrap around the word, my name.
“Dakota. Are you up, yet?”
My eyes pop open. Sun streams through the thin fabric that covers the windows, brightening the small room.
“The day is wasting. Get up!”
David’s voice vanquishes the reoccurring nightmare as I push myself up on my elbows. “I’m coming,” I manage to say. “Just give me a few more minutes.”
David laughs. “No.” He walks into the room and sits next to me on the bed. “No more minutes.”
I blink away the last remnants of sleep, pushing aside the panic of the nightmare. “Why? No one’s waiting for us, are they?” I’m only half-joking.
“It’s your birthday, silly.” David leans in and kisses my neck and jaw. “I have a surprise for you.”
“My birthday?” How did I forget?
“Yes. Now get up. I want to take you to the beach.”
“Mmm. That sounds nice.”
David kisses my forehead. “It is. So, get up.” He leaves our tiny bedroom.
I stretch and sit, eventually staggering to the bathroom to clean up. “Happy Birthday,” I say to the person staring back at me through the only mirror in our small place. Age kisses my soul. There’s a fatigue in my expression that can only come from the experiences of the past year. Fatigue and wisdom. Gone are the silly fantasies of an exciting life away from Cambria, replaced by the realities of my world and a desire to reclaim the normalcy I once avoided.
I look better than I did six months ago. No more dark circles under my eyes, confessing my lack of sleep and incessant nightmares. No more worry lines etched too deep into my face. The time away from everything and everyone is good for me.
David is good for me.
I release a deep sigh and throw a simple cotton dress over my bikini. David waits for me on the porch. “So, are we going or what?” I say as I jog a little ahead of him.
David laughs, swings a small pack onto his shoulders and follows me down the narrow mile-and-a-half hike to the rugged shoreline below the house.
We moved into the small secluded house days after the accident. It sits on private land owned by the Hawaiians. No Trespassing signs dot the gates that surround the property. How we managed to convince the owners to rent to us is beyond me. I have David to thank for it.
I have David to thank for everything lately.
The sun begins to ascend, bathing the world in sun-kissed fog. The black rocks that poke out along our path are moist as the morning dew refuses to abate. David steadies my body, one hand on my waist as he leads me to the beach below. I’ve taken this hike a million times over the past several months. I could probably climb all of the way down with my eyes closed, except for the whole falling-to-my-death thing.
The mood is light and we reach the beach faster than I expect. The sun turns the water into spun gold. The color tugs on my memories. My eyes moisten. A quick gasp escapes before I think to stow my emotions.
“Josh would like this place,” David says. He always knows what I’m thinking, even before I do.
“Yeah,” I manage to push past the stream of grief that fills me. I can’t hide myself from David. We’re connected in ways I can’t express, experiencing each other’s minds, our emotions and thoughts, on a near-constant basis. He’d stay out of my head if I ask.
I never do.
David grabs my hand, leading me to flat spot positioned among the jagged rocks and waterlogged moss. “I brought breakfast,” he says with a smile.
I want to lose myself in his expression and forget the memories unleashed by the sunrise over the water. “Thanks.”
He retrieves a few containers filled with yogurt, berries and granola. “Happy birthday, babe. I love you.”
He says the last words every day, and although his feelings mirror my own, I can’t bring myself to tell him. So, I do the only thing I can. I lean into him, inhaling the familiar, clean scent of his skin. I brush my lips against his and I hope the act conveys everything he means to me. He is my world, my life, my safe place.
Even if I don’t deserve one.
“What are you thinking about?” David asks.
I can’t say what I really feel, can’t say that I know LeMercier is still out there. I can’t tell him about the nightmares that have returned, or the strange murderous thoughts that fill my soul. “You,” I say as I push aside the other thoughts. “I was thinking about you.”
“Mmmm,” he purrs. “I like that. Anything in particular?”
“Tell me what you remember about us. Before. When we were kids.” I ask him about our childhood often. I wish my memories were as strong as his.
David never grows weary of my questions, never evades. A smile grows on his face and he takes my hands in his and brings them to his lips. “I knew I loved you from the minute I saw you. Your tangled blonde hair always in a heap on your head. The way you’d look at me whenever you caught me staring at you, a mix of intrigue and defiance. The determination you had with every new challenge the researchers tossed at you.
“You didn’t like me at first. Do you remember that? Josh didn’t either. I think he was being protective.”
“And me? Why didn’t I like you?” I ask. David has never told me this part of the story before.
He drops my hands and sits next to me, his hand on my knee. “I don’t know, really. One day you looked at me like I was the most annoying person in the world, and the next minute it just . . . changed. I guess my charm finally wore you down.” David shoves me with his shoulder and laughs.
“Yeah, that must be it,” I joke.
“After the accident with Maya’s father and the lab, I knew something would happen to us. I overheard your mom and some of the others talking, saying that the experiments were dangerous. I assumed everything would end, that we would be separated.” David’s voice trails off, his eyes moving to the horizon, his thoughts lost inside his head. “But I always knew we’d find each other again.”
“How? How did you know?” The words are almost a whisper.
David faces me. “Because we’re soul mates.” He pulls me to him and lightly kisses my forehead, my cheek, my lips. “I never wanted to leave you before, in high school. Even then, before my memories returned, I knew we were meant to find each other, to be together. Josh is the one that told me who you were—who we both were. He was worried about your safety. When he filled in the missing pieces and my memories were whole, I was worried too. I didn’t want anything to hurt you.” Worry lines carve themselves into his brow. “I still shouldn’t have left. I’m sorry.”
David’s apologized a million times for leaving. He doesn’t need to. I understand. Most of the time. “Why don’t I remember that time as much as you do?”
“I don’t know.” David doesn’t have the answers I need to hear. He’s too kind to lie, even to help me heal. He leans in and kisses me lightly again, the act revealing the same pain I feel.
“Never mind,” I say once the kiss ends. “It doesn’t matter. We’re together now.”
“
And I’m never leaving again. No matter what.” He offers another kiss, deeper this time. Another promise.
The sun stretches high above us before we decide to climb the hill back to our place. We are careful never to be seen together in public, not to raise suspicion. Even in the nearly deserted town of Kahakuloa, our presence would be unusual—two haoles wandering around hallowed Hawaiian land. Not tourists, not residents.
And not likely.
“Let’s go somewhere tonight. Ka’anapoli, maybe. Or Lahaina. I saw a cruise ship in port. We can blend in with the tourists.” David’s restlessness grows a little more each day. “Come on. We need to do something fun for your birthday. Please? For me.” He doesn’t want to hide anymore.
I do.
“We can’t take the risk. Not even once.”
“No one’s looking for us anymore, Dakota.”
We’ve had this same discussion a hundred times. “There’ll always be someone,” I say. “Ten years passed the last time. I think they’d be willing to wait even longer now.”
“Assuming there is someone left.” David’s voice is firm. “The lab is gone, Dakota. LeMercier didn’t survive the fire.”
I cringe at the sound of his name. “You don’t know that for certain. There are no reports that his body was found. My father has escaped worse.”
“Don’t call him that! He was never a father to you.” David’s jaw is set in his best don’t-mess-with-me face.
“What if he’s still out there? What if he finds us?”
David stops mid-step and turns to face me. The path is narrow and steep, the rock face on one side and a sheer drop on the other.
“Stop it!” David says with more force than I expect. “I love you, Dakota. But you need to stop assuming the world is about to end.”
“Maybe it is.” My hands fist at my sides.
“I’m being serious. I know you’re worried. I get it, all things considered. But no one is coming after us. The Solomon experiments are over. So is Project Stargate. The researchers are all dead. Tate, your parents, my dad.” David’s voice cracks on the last word. David never talks about his father, Dr. Jennings’, death.
Outbreak Page 1
