Sanctuary (the Affliction Trilogy #2)

Chapter 32

Thirty-Two

W es parks the truck next to one of the airplane hangars along the tarmac at the island’s airport. It didn’t take us long to travel what was left of the continent and cross the miles-long bridge to the island. Which was good because I don’t think any of us could stand another minute inside the truck.

We climb out and stretch our aching muscles while scanning the area with timid optimism. A saltwater breeze blows in from the ocean that lines the runway, cooling my heated skin. It’s peaceful with the only sound coming from the waves and seagull caws in the distance. It’s almost perfect. The only thing missing is an airplane.

I break away from the group while they circle together to discuss what they want to do for the evening. With my hands buried in the pockets of my jeans, I walk along the front of the hangar. I scan the exterior of the large, steel structure, not looking for anything in particular. I just want to have a second to myself to gather my thoughts and breathe in the fresh air.

Today, we were lucky to escape the horde with no casualties. If we didn't have the extra guns my brother gave us, and Wes didn't have an explosives fetish, we would have died. The horde was unlike anything we’ve ever seen. It’s just proof that their numbers are increasing, and we will have to continue fighting them. I despise the thought, but it doesn't look like we're leaving any time soon.

I wasn't expecting to find a plane running when we arrived, but I'd hoped there would be at least one here. I suppose I should just be grateful that our group made it here intact.

I run my hand over the grimy window on the hanger door and cup my palms next to my eyes, looking inside. Like the rest of the airport, the gigantic space is vacant. As I pull away from the glass, my gaze darts to the back corner of the building. My vision must be shot, I swear I see movement in a doorway.

Feeling brave, I wrap my hand around the doorknob and it opens. “Ryland,” I call out to him.

With long lazy steps, he comes to me. The battle with the Zs took a lot out of him. He was not ready to take on a fight of that magnitude, yet he pushed through it, making sure we prevailed. Afterward, his body was overexerted and gave him no choice but to give in to his fatigue. He slept the entire way here.

He slides up beside me, and I say, “I think someone is inside.” I crack the door open a little more.

He puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles back to the others. As they come our way, he pulls the gun from the back of his pants and turns to me. “Is it someone or something you saw?”

“It was just a shadow in the back doorway,” I say, pointing to the corner.

“Aiden, you come with us. Everyone else keep your eyes open out here,” he says, stepping in front of me and holding his hand out to keep me behind him.

I swat it away and try to step around him, but he sidesteps me.

“Knock it off,” he whispers like I'm the unreasonable one, but I catch the slight grin on his face.

“You're so?—”

“Charming.”

I groan and roll my eyes. “That's not what I was going to say, but you're that too.”

Sandwiched between Ryland and Aiden, we walk across the building. I keep my gaze glued to the spot where I saw the figure, ready for a Z to spring out. By now, the Afflicted would have smelled us coming and should be ready to pounce, but I don't even hear the shuffling of feet. We reach an office doorway, and I scan the room before stepping inside. The bookshelves overflow with textbooks and the desk holds a computer monitor. I reach to turn it on.

“Hands in the air where I can see them,” says a male voice from behind us.

I lift my hands, showing that I have a gun and turn to face him along with the guys.

A disheveled middle-aged man with mousy-brown hair and matching scruff grips a shotgun. It looks out of place with his floral-print shirt and cargo shorts paired hiking boots. “Drop your weapons,” he commands.

The last time I disarmed, we ended up trapped inside the Sanctuary. I remember thinking at the time it was a good idea to give up our firearms for the haven's protection. I won't make that same mistake again.

“Not unless you plan on dropping your gun first,” I say.

He chuckles. “Yeah, right. There is one of me and three of you, plus your friends outside.”

“We're not here to harm you. We just have a few questions and need to know if you can help us,” Ryland says, leaning down and putting his gun on the floor.

The man uses the barrel of his weapon and points it at Aiden. “You, too.”

Ryland nods for Aiden to comply.

With the two unarmed, the man turns his attention to me again, but before he can tell me to disarm once more, I say, “You have a gun, and I have a gun, seems fair.”

“Fuck,” he says, snarling his lip. “Why are you here? What is it you want?”

Ryland steps forward, and I move to the side, keeping my aim on the burly man.

“We want to know who's flying planes from here?”

The man squints his eyes, and his posture unwinds a bit. “Who told you planes were here? I don't see a plane.”

“No one told us. We tracked them through an old military system. We're just trying to see if there's a possibility of us getting home.”

The man lowers his gun and tilts his head to the side. “Are you one of the five Giranian boys trapped here while on holiday?”

I lift my eyebrows and lower my gun to my side.

In a gesture of good faith, Ryland reaches out his hand. “I'm Ryland Shaw.”

“Frank Weber. I’m with the United Guard,” the man says, shaking Ryland's hand.

My breath hitches and excitement sparks within me. The United Guard is the same organization that my family worked with to find humanitarian missions. Their job is to identify areas in crisis and supply support to help the people.

“Your families have been very diligent in their efforts to retrieve you, especially after the Kassis boy's mother claimed you contacted her last year,” Frank says.

“How did you hear about that? There hasn't been any internet in almost two years.” I ask.

He slings the strap of his gun over his shoulder and walks back toward the front door. “I'm on a special detail for the U.G. I use satellite connections to monitor activity throughout Stern’s southern region and report it to the other continents. The planes you came across are the cargo planes bringing me supplies when I'm running low. They travel to the other small hubs like mine throughout Stern.”

“So the virus didn't spread outside of this continent?” Aiden asks.

“I will answer your questions, but first, let me get you settled. You look exhausted.” Weber opens the hanger door and calls to the others, “Please, come in and join your friends.”

Weber's hospitality continues once we're all in his living quarters at the back of the hanger. It's nothing spectacular—a single room encompassing all the necessities. It reminds me of the bunker back in Devil’s Lake, and for a moment, I feel homesick.

Noah, River, and Aiden take a seat on the couch, with me, Ryland, and Wes at the round breakfast table. Weber moves through the tiny kitchen, starting a pot of tea on the double-burner stove.

“My friend, you asked about the spread of the virus,” he says to Aiden. Removing several mismatched mugs from the cabinet above the sink, he continues, saying, “There were reported cases as planes touched down on other continents, but none of them morphed into the madness Stern saw. Not one of those who recovered from the infection showed the symptoms of the Afflicted.”

“That's odd,” River mumbles.

“Indeed,” our host says, pouring us each a glass of hot tea.

Struggling to survive has left us with little time to consider the situation beyond our own, but knowing our families didn't face the same monstrosities gives me peace of mind.

“Weber, do you think you'll be able to work something out, so we can go home?” Ryland asks.

“Of course. I'll contact the U.G. once I have you settled. No doubt they will have a plane here for you within the next twenty-four hours.”

When the punchline never comes, it sinks in. He's not kidding—we’re going to Giran.

We fall dead silent, exchanging looks. One day, that's how long he estimates it will take someone to get us. We must be dreaming. Nothing—not a single thing we've encountered in almost three years has been this easy. We've fought for Aiden's health, getting to the Oscuros border, finding the Sanctuary, and then leaving it. It's hard to comprehend how this most important request just requires us to ask.

“Are there others like us who have been rescued since they implemented the quarantine?” Noah asks.

Weber hands out the cups and answers, “There were several people smuggled out of the continent after the quarantine, but it was not many. Most evacuated when the government advised them to do so.” He sits at the last empty chair at the breakfast table. “There have been no rescues in over ten months. I believed there was no one else who needed to return to their continent.”

I take a sip and say, “What about those from Stern? Have any continents taken them in as refugees?”

He shakes his head. “Those who were on other continents during the closing of the borders were absorbed into the communities they were visiting, but Stern isolated itself—in an extreme way—and all the continents have honored that. Technically, the quarantine is still in place. Therefore, Stern citizens are not permitted to leave, and I'm not aware of one who has left successfully without being smuggled.”

My stomach plummets to the floor as I ask, “Stern citizens are still prohibited from leaving?”

“That is correct,” he confirms.

Ryland takes my hand under the table and brushes his thumb back and forth over the top. We had promised each other we'd only leave if it was together, but fate has thrown us another curveball.

River glances back at me, and we make an unsaid oath. These four men have grown to mean the world to us. They've become our family, and we want for them everything we desire for ourselves. This is no place for any of us, and we can't let them walk away from this chance again. No matter what we have to do, all four of them will get on the plane tomorrow.

“But—” Weber interrupts our silent exchange, “—there is no doubt the Giranian authorities will make an exception at the request of your friends.”

River darts her gray eyes to Weber. “What are you saying?”

“They are the media darlings. Everyone will be buzzing about their homecoming, and they will be treated like the royal family. All they have to do is ask that you return to Giran with them.”

“Are you serious?” I ask.

“Very much so.” He nods, taking a drink from his cup.

Everything unfolds so quickly. Weber uses the satellite internet connection to send news about the boys and their two female companions. We receive a response within two hours, stating the information has been passed on to the Giranian authorities, and they'll return with an answer shortly. We sit around the computer for over an hour when a digital ping alerts of a response. The email reads:

Mr. Weber,

Please inform your guests that the Giran Air Force is scheduled to retrieve them within the next ten hours.

Regards,

Samuel Meeks, United Guard

We jump to our feet and the room comes alive with laughter and hugs. The final countdown to our departure has finally begun. In less than a day's time, we'll start a new chapter in our lives. There will be no more struggling to survive and battling with Zs. We'll leave the Affliction and all its horrors behind.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I excuse myself from the room. I rush out of the hangar and onto the tarmac overlooking the ocean. I take a deep breath and sear into my memory what the saltwater smells like from the western side of this ocean. After tomorrow, chances are that I'll never set foot on this continent again.

Everything familiar to me is going to be left behind. I won't be able to return to my childhood home or visit the gravesite of my mother. My children will never comprehend what it was like to grow up in Stern before the quarantine. The things I remember will become the foundation of future legends.

“Are you okay?” River asks, coming to stand beside me.

I shrug. “I didn't think I'd feel such a sense of loss. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to leave and see Josh and Amara again. There's so much I want to leave behind, but there's a ton that I'll miss.”

She drapes her arm over my shoulders, and my arms snake around her waist, squeezing her to me.

“Maybe I'm being ridiculous about the whole thing,” I say, leaning my head on her shoulder.

“No, you're not. Nothing is going to be the same.” She sighs and rests her cheek on my head. “You know, we stayed behind while Mom and Dad left for Bogati, because we were scared of growing up. We wanted just a couple more weeks to be kids—for it to be just you and me. We were fighting against leaving Devil’s Lake, falling in love, and real responsibilities.”

“We failed miserably.” I chuckle.

“And despite all of the bad, we had one hell of a time growing up, didn't we?”

Thousands of memories, both new and old, flash through my mind, and it brings a smile to my face. “Yeah, and we got to do it together after all.”