THE COMPLETE MAKANZA SERIES
Books 0-4
KRISTA STREET
Copyright © 2020 by Krista Street
All rights reserved.
Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1074386108
ebook ASIN: B089VNZ8K4
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted or distributed in any printed or electronic form, or stored in a database or retrieval system for any commercial or non-commercial use, without the author’s written permission.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any places, business establishments, events or occurrences, are purely coincidental.
1080020090600105
Cover art by Deranged Doctor Design.
MAIN MENU
Book 0 – The Second Wave
Book 1 – Compound 26
Book 2 – Reservation 1
Book 3 – Section 12
Book 4 – Division 5
TABLE OF CONTENTS
MAIN MENU
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PREFACE
THE SECOND WAVE
1 – OUTBREAK
2 – REALIZATION
3 – MRRA
4 – HOME QUARANTINE
5 – SICK
6 – SYMPTOMS
7 – GUILT
8 – NIGHTMARE
9 – DEATH
10 – CHANGE
11 – BREAKOUT
12 – SAYING GOODBYE
COMPOUND 26
1 – FIRST DAY
2 – THE LAB
3 – INNER SANCTUM
4 – DAVIN
5 – DINNER
6 – STRAIN 11
7 – BACK TO THE SANCTUM
8 – THE CHAIR
9 – SEAN’S PUB
10 – WAITING
11 – CONFERENCE
12 – CHANGES
13 – GOING IN
14 – PTSD
15 – VISITOR
16 – TRIP
17 – SHOCK
18 – PICTURE
19 – TEST
20 – GERRY
21 – REVELATION
22 – TELEPATHY
23 – BACK TO RAPID
24 – POKER
25 – SAMPLE
26 – SHATTERED
27 – SURPRISE VISIT
28 – NEGOTIATIONS
29 – BREAKTHROUGH
RESERVATION 1
1 – VACCINE
2 – WASHINGTON D.C.
3 – SUMMIT
4 – BACK TO THE COMPOUND
5 - STATE OF THE UNION
6 – REJECTION
7 – EXPOSED
8 – QUARANTINE
9 – THE SANCTUM
10 – SECRETS
11 – LIFE INSIDE
12 – SICK
13 – EXPERIMENTAL ROOM
14 – SAMPLES
15 – LEAVING THE SANCTUM
16 – NEW EXPERIENCES
17 – THE WHITE HOUSE
18 – CONFESSION
19 – PUBLIC EDUCATION
20 – SECRET TUNNEL
21 – THE RESERVATION
22 – DEVASTATED
23 – MEETING
24 – INSIDE
25 – AGREEMENT
26 – SAYING GOODBYE
SECTION 12
1 – TWELVE WEEKS
2 – PROPOSITION
3 – COMPOUNDS 10 & 11
4 – PHONE CALL
5 – BACK TO SIOUX FALLS
6 – NIGHTMARE
7 – SHARON
8 – RESERVATION 1
9 – VIDEOS
10 – DR. HUTCHINSON
11 – PERIMETER
12 – BREAK-IN
13 – INTERROGATION
14 – SARA
15 – JAIL TIME
16 – THE PRESIDENT
17 – REMOVAL
18 – DAVIN
19 – SECRET LETTERS
20 – THE VOTE
21 – OUTCOME
22 – SECTION 12
23 – FREEDOM
24 – RECOVERY
25 – NEW BEGINNINGS
DIVISION 5
1 – HOME
2 – BACK TO WORK
3 – BETHANY
4 – UNEXPECTED VISIT
5 – NEWS SEGMENT
6 – CONFESSION
7 – DIVISION 5
8 – ROAD TRIP
9 – PANIC ATTACK
10 – APPEAL
11 – THE INTERVIEW
12 – SURPRISE
13 – ATTACK
14 – WEEKEND VISIT
15 – COMPOUND 3
16 – NEW HOME
17 – DISCOVERY
18 – FINDING A CURE
19 – DRUG TRIALS
20 – PRODUCTION BEGINS
21 – SABOTAGE
22 – HE RETURNS
23 – UNLIKELY ALLY
24 - REVELATIONS
25 – END OF AN ERA
26 – A NEW DAWN
27 – A FUTURE IS BORN
AUTHOR’S NOTE
THANK YOU!
THE LOST CHILDREN
SUPERNATURAL COMMUNITY
BEAST OF SHADOWS
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PREFACE
The Makanza Series is a complete Dystopian Romance series set in a post-viral modern American world in which the government has tight control. This series is rated moderate for sex, language, and violence. There are a few cuss words intermixed with several scenes that depict cruelty. However, this series is non-graphic. Overall, The Makanza Series is a slow-burn romance. Romantic scenes grow in intensity as the series progresses, but there are no graphic sex scenes, which makes this series suitable for readers aged 16+.
THE SECOND WAVE
Book 0
1 – OUTBREAK
The shrill alarm’s ear-piercing wail echoed across the vast, open prairie outside our dad’s small home.
“Davin? What’s that?” My youngest sister, Aurora, glanced at me from where she sat on the couch. Cartoons played on the small TV in our dad’s living room. My brothers sat on the floor. Elliot was cross-legged while Lars leaned against the couch. Only my sister Mina and our dad were missing since they’d gone into town to buy groceries.
“Yeah, what is that?” Lars repeated. At fourteen, he was tall and lanky. Jet-black hair brushed against his ears. His eyes grew wide. “It’s not the Makanza alarm, is it?”
I pushed to a stand, the couch creaking with the movement. My heart pounded at what the alarm implied. “I don’t know. Stay here.”
I hurried to the front door and pushed through it. The crash of the ancient outer screen door clanging against the house didn’t deter me, as if its loud bang mattered compared to the alarm.
Outside, the cool April wind washed across my cheeks. Long, swaying prairie grass rolled in the breeze as far as the eye could see. Fresh spring scents carried in the wind. The South Dakota prairie was slowly awakening from its winter dormancy.
The sharp alarm continued to blare from the old tornado alarms. Up the drive, the two-lane highway was quiet. No trucks raced by. No government Makanza Research and Response Agency planes or helicopters dotted the sky. Nothing appeared amiss.
All appeared normal and safe.
It was peaceful, except for the alarm, but if the alarm was sounding—that meant something had happened regarding the virus.
In other words, no one’s safe.
I winced again when the shrill sound pierced the morning air. It we
nt around and around, encompassing the vast land. The alarms were stationed throughout the country and had been for more than two years, ever since the Compounds were created. The Compounds, our government-controlled research facilities, contained the virus-infected Kazzies.
“Davin! Come look!” Elliot’s frantic call came from inside.
His last word cracked—that awkward pubescent sound was something I’d thankfully left behind me years ago. At eighteen, I was the oldest of my siblings.
Ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach, I raced back inside. My two younger brothers and younger sister all sat on the floor, gripping each other’s hands tightly as they stared at the TV. Aurora, the youngest at ten, glanced up at me with her electric-blue eyes.
Seeing her panicked expression made the sick feeling in my stomach grow.
“Listen,” Lars said. He pointed at the TV. “It’s not good, Davin. It’s really, really bad.”
I crouched next to them on the floor. Aurora scooted closer to my side until her small frame brushed my thigh. I placed my arm around her thin shoulders and gave a reassuring squeeze.
All channels had been taken over by our closest news source located in Rapid City. A reporter sat behind her desk, her fingers visibly shaking. Her next words made my breath stop.
“If you’re just tuning in, we’ve interrupted your program to bring you news of a potential Makanza outbreak on the Cheyenne River Reservation. Three Native Americans have reported to the local IHS hospital with symptoms. A Makanza Research and Response Agency team has been dispatched.”
It felt as if someone had punched me in the gut. I fell back on the floor, landing hard on my butt.
A soft mewling sound came from Aurora as her small arms encircled my thigh.
Lars turned panicked brown eyes my way. “See! It’s bad! Really bad!”
Despite our red-hued complexions, which everyone in our tribe carried, Lars appeared as white as a ghost.
The reporter cleared her throat, forcing my attention back to her. For all I knew, she’d never stopped talking, but as soon as she’d mentioned Cheyenne River, I’d stopped listening. We were on the Cheyenne River Reservation.
Forcing myself to pay attention, I sat more upright after hauling Aurora into my lap. Her soft black hair tickled my chin.
The papers the reporter held wavered in her trembling hands. “The MRRA has issued a mandatory quarantine nationwide for the next two months. Everyone is instructed to return to their homes within thirty minutes. Government officials will quarantine the reservation as protocol dictates.” She shuffled her papers before continuing. “The Makanza Research Institute has issued guidelines during the quarantine period. Everyone is instructed to stay in their homes, maintaining at least six feet of distance from every person occupying the home. Wash hands frequently. Cover mouths if one coughs or sneezes. If you have gloves and masks, wear them . . .”
Her voice droned on, but only one thought filled my mind. This can’t be happening. I was supposed to go to college this fall. I’d just moved out of our mom’s house a few months ago after spending all winter working construction and saving for tuition. My life was finally starting.
A pause from the TV brought me back to the present. The alarm continued to wail outside.
The reporter’s eyes were downcast. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily with every breath she took. At least three more seconds of dead air passed before she returned her attention to the camera. “May God help us all,” she said quietly.
A banner scrolled along the bottom of the screen. It highlighted that three Native Americans from our tribe had indeed reported to our local Indian Health Service hospital.
“That’s just down the road!” Elliot, my twelve-year-old brother, bolted to a stand. “And they said we’re not supposed to touch each other.” His gaze fell on Aurora in my lap.
Aurora tilted her face to mine. “What do we do?”
“Dad and Mina will be home soon. They’ll have to be.” I took a shaky breath. “And then . . . we wait, and we do what the MRI says. We’ll have to stay inside until the quarantine ends, just like we did four years ago, and we should probably start keeping our distance from one another.” I gently lifted my youngest sister up. Her baby scent fluttered to my nose. Despite being ten, she still smelled like a little kid. “We’ll have to work out a plan to keep our distance since this house isn’t big.” And we don’t have masks or gloves here.
We had those in Rapid City. Mom still had some leftover from the outbreak four years ago. Since it took a while for the symptoms to show, the government had encouraged everyone to take precautions even if family members appeared healthy.
Despite the public being Makanza-free for a few years, Mom had still kept the gloves and masks just in case. But I doubted Dad had any. They’d only divorced a year ago. And there had been no fear of the virus lately since the Kazzies, those carrying the virus, had all been moved to the Compounds.
We should have been more prepared.
Our dad’s house was tiny: only two bedrooms, a single bathroom, living room, and a kitchen. It was hardly large enough for five kids and one adult. Normally, he lived alone here. It was plenty big for him, but when we visited, it was pretty crowded.
I returned my attention to the TV. Six feet of distance. Wash hands frequently.
“We need to set guidelines. Right now.” So much for catching up with Nick later today. In a heartbeat, everything had changed. “Let’s all wash our hands with the dish soap in the kitchen—that’s the strongest soap we have. And then we’ll need to work out a schedule to keep everyone distanced from each other. Do you guys remember what we did last time?”
Lars and Elliot nodded, whereas Aurora looked like a deer caught in headlights.
I softened my tone. “Don’t worry, Bug. I’ll tell you what to do.” I nodded curtly toward the kitchen, and everyone kicked into action.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a text from my friend Nick.
Can you believe what they’re saying? That the virus is back?
I tapped in a reply.
I know. Maybe they’re wrong and it’s fine.
Nick’s reply came quickly.
I hope so. Stay safe bro.
Yeah you too.
Everyone washed their hands and returned to the living room.
“Mom’s got to be so worried.” Aurora’s large blue eyes shimmered with tears when I told her where to sit.
“Shh, Bug. It’s fine. We’ll call her and tell her we’re okay. Now remember, we’ve got to start shifts of who sits where and when. And I know it’s hard, but try not to touch tables and the walls. The less things we touch, the better.” I think. If I remembered correctly, the news had reported it took several weeks before symptoms emerged, but they were only guessing since the Makanza Research Institute had never divulged those details.
Aurora stared up at me with confused, scared eyes. “Okay. I’ll try.”
A fierce protectiveness welled up inside me. Aurora was only ten years old, much too young to die from the Makanza virus.
“So are we going to get sick?” Elliot’s voice shook.
“No, of course not. We’ll do what the scientists from the MRI tell us to do. We’ll stay safe, just like we did four years ago.”
Elliot’s brow furrowed. He suddenly looked much older than his twelve years. In his hands, he held the small horse he’d been carving from a block of wood. He’d been working on it all weekend.
Now he can work on it all month.
That thought brought reality crashing back to me in full force. We’d only come up to the reservation for a long weekend to visit our dad. Mom was back in Rapid City, living in the house we’d grown up in, the house my four siblings all normally lived in when we weren’t visiting Dad on the rez. Only I had moved out. Everyone else was still too young to leave home.
“Davin? Are we going to die?” Elliot’s voice sounded so small.
Lars hadn’t said a word since t
he news program. He still stared at the TV, his eyes glazed.
I mentally shook myself. “No. It’ll be fine. We just got here a few days ago. Most likely, we haven’t come into contact with someone infected.”
The lie rolled off my tongue so easily. Too easily. Because if our dad was infected . . . But seeing the panicked expression on my brother’s face was too much.
Swallowing down the self-disgust as I stared into Elliot’s trusting eyes, I realized lying may be necessary. If it keeps them from panicking and reassures them that everything will be fine, then that’s what I’ll do.
That thought solidified exactly what needed to be done. Stay calm. Keep them safe. Stay inside. Don’t get infected.
I pulled out my old cell phone. “Let’s call Mom. She probably wants to hear from us.” But just as I started to tap in the number, the sound of gravel crunching under tires carried through the windows.
“Dad and Mina are back!” Elliot bounded to the door as the sound of slamming car doors carried in from outside.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket, some of the tension leaving my shoulders.
Through the window, my dad and sixteen-year-old sister were visible. They carried bags of groceries in their arms and were hurrying to the front door. The alarm continued to blare across the prairie.
Mina’s long ebony hair flew in the breeze around her thin frame. Before Makanza, she’d always been on the heavier side, but now that food was rationed, she was anything but heavy. Sometimes I worried that she was getting too thin.
“Let’s go help.” I stepped to the front door just as our dad’s heavy steps sounded on the creaking wooden porch.
I was about to open the door when Mina barreled through.
“Did you hear it?” Mina’s voice came out in a shrill screech. “Did you hear the alarm? They’re saying that people here are infected!”
“Mina. Calm down!” My dad’s gaze swept to the kitchen. His voice was harsher than usual. Gone was his normal soft and low tone.
My gut tightened. I knew what he was looking for—the bottle of home-brewed whiskey he kept hidden on the top shelf in the back of the pantry. It sat behind an empty box of Cheerios. That old cereal wasn’t made anymore, but that empty box stayed there nonetheless. It was as if he thought none of us knew what it hid.
I grabbed the groceries from his hands. “Dad, have a seat.”