Sundered: Book 1 (The Nevermore Trilogy) Read online

  SUNDERED

  The Nevermore Trilogy, Book 2

  Shannon Mayer

  PRAISE FOR “THE NEVERMORE TRILOGY”

  “I was completely blindsided by events in this story. Even now, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  Author of “Until Dawn: Last Light”, Jennifer Simas

  “Full of juicy zombie action meshed with romance to make your heart break. The pace is thrilling and the action doesn’t stop!”

  Author of “The Guardian”, CJ Gosling

  “. . . I LOVED the idea that not only was the Nevermore syndrome not contagious, but that there was the possibility of the zombies actually procreating.”

  Jess the Romanceaholic (Reviewer)

  “. . .an apocalyptic world that immediately feels plausible in these days of pharmaceutical “miracles” and quick cures gone wrong. . . .a fearless and unflinching launch into darker issues and terrible choices. There is great depth in this author’s work, and yes, I already grabbed book two.”

  Author of Brilliant Prey, Brenda Wallace

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  Authors Note

  About the Author

  Also by Shannon Mayer

  Copyright

  SUNDERED

  Love is something eternal; the aspect may change, but not the essence.

  —Vincent Van Gogh

  1

  I walked slowly, my hands above my head to keep from touching the scotch broom. My eyes watered, my throat and nose itched, and the patches of bare skin the plant leaned in to kiss were bright red and swelling. Fanny Bay was famous for a lot of things, but when we moved here three months ago I didn’t realize it was a breeding ground for my most hated nemesis.

  “You coming, babe? I really am sorry. I didn’t know the trail was full of broom,” Sebastian, my sweet and usually thoughtful husband, yelled back to me. He wasn’t allergic to the brilliant yellow plant, so he didn’t have to worry about the branches that hung on all sides, and he made good time on the trail. I could just make out his broad back and dark brown hair over the tops of the broom ahead of me. At 6’4” he towered over most people and living things, noxious weeds included.

  I grunted a reply, not wanting to take in any more air than I had to. The walk through the tunnel of broom wouldn’t kill me—it wasn’t that bad an allergy—but hell, it wasn’t something I enjoyed, either. Breaking out in a rash and blowing my nose continually for the next few hours would be what I had to look forward to after this little excursion. But the bottom line was, and even I could admit it, I needed to get out of the house and get some fresh air. I’d been holed up for far too long grieving, and this little hike and visit with the neighbours would get me moving. God love the man, Sebastian knew me better than I knew myself sometimes, and this excursion had been his idea.

  “Mara?”

  “I’m coming, Bastian. Don’t expect me to run through this crap,” I said, shifting sideways to slip between two overhanging branches.

  A stick jabbed me in the belly and I snapped it off with a quick twist. “Stupid plant,” I muttered, thinking of all the things that had been jabbed into me of late; it was the least painful, both to my body and my heart.

  I blinked away tears that threatened, and wiped my hands across my eyes to my immediate regret: they were covered in pollen from pushing the broom out of my way.

  “Son of a bitch, I’m an idiot.” I blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears flowing to rinse my eyes out.

  The doctors didn’t know why we were having such a hard time getting pregnant, and the miscarriage only confirmed that it was something wrong with me. I sneezed and rubbed my nose with the back of my hand, the minor explosion jarring me out of my depressing thoughts.

  “Hurry up, woman. I told Dan we’d be there ten minutes ago. Last thing I want to do is upset the new neighbours.” Sebastian’s voice was even further ahead of me now.

  “Yeah, I’m coming, O white knight of mine, who considers a walk in the broom a nice time out for his highly allergic wife!” I wasn’t angry with him; this was part of the way he dealt with his grief. It was the same when his father and brother died in the boating accident; at least, that was what his mother had shared with me. His motto was ‘buckle down and move on; push forward and don’t look back’. Although even with that attitude, he sweated the whole way across the Georgia Strait, despite the fact that the ferry we were on was the size of a cruise liner.

  A rustle in the bush stopped my feet before I thought about what I was doing. “Sebastian?” He had a nasty habit of scaring me; jumping out from the place I least expected him. The rustling drew closer and I pulled away, pressing my back against a wall of yellow and green, my heart picking up speed. I didn’t think it was Sebastian. A musky odour floated past my nose, and whatever was making the noise, it was an animal. A flash of black in the bush across from me and I nearly wet my pants. Bears were more than common on this part of Vancouver Island; they were considered pretty much part of the neighbourhood and one of the few things I was truly terrified of.

  Crap. Mouth dry, I tried again, whispering as loud as I dared. “Sebastian!”

  The black thing in the bush that I was sure was a bear, grunted and shuffled closer and I slid my way toward the spot where I’d last seen my husband. Maybe the bear wouldn’t attack us if we were together? Sweat popped out on my forehead and I no longer cared how much the broom brushed against me; I just didn’t want to be eaten. I pushed my back against the wall of plants, not caring that they scratched across my bare skin as I slid sideways up the trail, keeping my eyes trained on the rustling behind me.

  One step forward and something grabbed me from behind sending me into a flailing mass of arms, legs, and grunts as my heart threatened to burst out of my throat.

  “Whoa, whoa, babe, settle down,” Sebastian said, laughing at me, his blue eyes dancing, his hands resting on my shoulders.

  I didn’t care he’d scared me. Not this time.

  I gulped in a breath. “Bear,” I said, pointing down the trail, my hand shaking.

  “Really?”

  I nodded. Then the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen that man do happened right in front of my disbelieving eyes. Sebastian started back the way we’d come, toward the bear.

  “What are you doing?” My fear turned to anger as I thought of myself widowed before I’d even turned thirty.

  “I just want to see it. I’ve never seen a bear up close before,” he said.

  “There’s a first and a last time for everything,” I snapped and then contrite at the thought of my last words to him being snotty I changed tactics. “Please come back. We need to keep going. I thought you said we were almost there.”

  Sebastian didn’t answer me except to wave backwards. As if I was going to get any closer to the bear. Yeah, right. He kept moving forward, his movements slow and steady, as if he was afraid to spook the animal. I didn’t think that was going to be a problem.

  I wanted to scrub my hands over my face with frustration, but had to settle for gripping the edges of my shorts. There had to be a way to get him to come back.

  “Sebastian, I’ll divorce you if you keep looking for the bear.” Maybe that would work.

  “You’re too poor to pay a lawyer.”

  I snorted. “So are you.” I thought a moment more, knowing I had the an
swer.

  “I’ll tell your Gran on you.”

  He stopped and turned to face me. “You wouldn’t.” The look on his face said it all, and a twitch started in the corner of my lips. I knew I had him. I let out a sigh of relief and put my hands on my hips.

  “I would, just you wait and . . .”

  A huge black bear burst out of the bush behind Sebastian with a roar and I bit down on a scream, my worst nightmare unfolding before my eyes. Sebastian stumbled back toward me and fell over a rut in the ground. I grabbed a rock and cocked my arm to throw it, when a hand dropped on my shoulder and shoved me to the ground. The smell of cigar smoke curled through the air, slicing through the sweet musk of the broom and the heavier musk of the large predator ready to eat my husband.

  “Stay down, girl,” a throaty voice said and I looked over my shoulder to see our sort-of-crazy neighbour Dan above me, a gun levelled at the bear. “You too, boy, stay down.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking to Sebastian or the bear.

  We both stayed low on the ground and Dan walked toward the bear, his gun never wavering.

  “Come on, Bob, you know you aren’t allowed to be eating the locals. Specially these city folk so new here, they’re practically a biohazard with all the toxins and chemicals they’ve been living in.”

  “Hey, we eat healthy,” I said, then thought about the situation and shut my mouth. A crazy man with a gun and a bear in the middle of a forest trail that no one knew we were on. Quiet Mara, you’ll live longer.

  I watched in disbelief as the bear—Bob, I guess—dropped to all fours and let out a long low snort.

  “Yeah,” Dan said. “I feel the same about these imports, but we got to give them a chance before we run them off.”

  The bear grunted and pawed at the ground a mere foot away from Sebastian’s bare legs. I whimpered in fear, wishing I had the gun in my hands. Why wasn’t Dan shooting the bear? He wasn’t truly having a conversation with the animal; he had to know that, didn’t he?

  “Go on now, Bob. Come around the back of the house later tonight and you can have one of the salmon I thawed out this morning.” Dan lowered the gun. Bob gave one last snuffle and turned away from us, heading back down the trail toward the ocean.

  I scrambled to my feet and ran to Sebastian, catching him in a—dare I say it—bear hug.

  “I’m okay, babe,” he said into my hair.

  “No, you’re not.” I stood up and kicked him in the shin, pleased with the wince it produced. “You idiot! I told you not to go back. That bear could have killed you!”

  “Lower your voice, girl, or Bob will come back to see what all the shouting’s about, and to be honest, I’d sooner shoot you than him. He’s better company than most people.”

  I turned to face him, our kind-of rescuer, at a loss for words. Did I say thanks for saving us, or thanks for not shooting us, or was I supposed to be mad that he preferred a bear over people? Dan stared at me as he chewed on the stubby cigar clamped between yellowed teeth. His salt and pepper hair was military short and yet still managed to be messy, and his army fatigues were rumpled and stained. I didn’t know what to make of him. Was it an act, or were the other locals right and he was off his rocker?

  Sebastian took the lead, exaggerating his limp and rubbing at his shin before holding his hand out to the gruff older man. “Thanks, Dan. Much appreciate the intervention with your friend. We were on our way to your place. You put an ad on the mailbox that you had some old gardening stuff you want to get rid of? I spoke with you this morning about coming by?”

  Dan stared at Sebastian for so long I started to get nervous. The man, after all, had a reputation for eating Crazy Flakes for breakfast and he was packing a large gun. Not really a good combination. I cleared my throat.

  “Things like old pots, and maybe even some veggie starts,” I said, wanting to break the awkward silence.

  Dan took a drag on his cigar and blew out a string of smoke. “Yup, come on then.” He turned his back to us, put his gun over his shoulder and led us down the yellow and green tunnel.

  We followed, Sebastian taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed to me.

  I smiled and squeezed his hand, mouthing back, “Okay. But I’m still calling your Gran.”

  Sebastian winced again, and I nodded. There was always a consequence for being dumb, even if it was just having your Gran rip a strip off you.

  As the adrenaline stopped its headlong rush through my body, I became acutely aware of my bare legs and arms—all the parts I’d shoved up against the broom. By the time we reached Dan’s, a fortress of a home that looked as if it had once been an army barrack, every visible inch of me was covered in hives. I stared around me, absently scratching at my arms. Dan’s yard wasn’t fenced, but it didn’t really need to be, not with the way his house was built. What looked like steel plate covered the doors, and the windows had rebarred grills over them. I ran my fingers over the rough textured exterior of the house—it seeme to be a combination of bricks, mortar and cement— my curiosity for a moment overwhelmed my itching. What was the point of all this?

  “Make this quick, Bastian. I’m blowing up like a puffer fish,” I whispered to him as I deposited myself on the only chair in the yard. Dan brought me a prickly cactus looking plant and stuck it on the ground beside me.

  “Aloe Vera. It’ll help with the sting till you get home,” he said as he broke off a thick green stem and handed the goopy end to me.

  Surprised at his kindness, my opinion of him shifting again, I broke off a second piece of the plant and rubbed it onto the worst patch of hives with a sigh. It was cool and soothing. I was going to have to get me an Aloe Vera plant.

  It was nice in the shade; this corner of Dan’s garden was already up, the bright green shoots sticking through the ground. I didn’t recognize any of them. I was still pretty new to the whole concept of gardening. I could see what I thought were peas climbing a section of netting, large rubber tires housing a creeping plant of some sort, and several raised beds with strawberries in them. Those, at least, I could pick out easily. It was very strange to see such a mixture of old-school gardening life next to the military feel of his home.

  Next to the house, a battered old radio played while Sebastian talked planting, tools, and seeds with the old nutter.

  After a few minutes, Dan walked to the radio and turned it up just as a female announcer came on, her voice breathy and completely unsuited to radio.

  “Bet she got the job by doing a few jobs of her own, eh?” Dan gave me a lecherous wink and walked back over to where Sebastian was digging through an old pile of pots.

  I grimaced and shook my head. That was an awful thought, no matter that it was probably true. I reached down to rub at a particularly large hive with the Aloe Vera on the back of my calf, when what the announcer was saying sunk in.

  “This is a miracle drug boys and girls. Not only can you eat whatever you want and not gain weight, but it does all sorts of great things, but I can’t remember all of them. You can’t buy it over the counter . . . .”

  I got up and moved my chair closer to the radio, and a second, male, announcer came on, his voice highly animated and almost as feminine as the woman’s.

  “So Phillipa, you’re telling me there’s no downside, no side effects to this—what was the drug called again?” he said.

  Phillipa’s irritating voice came back on. “They’re calling it Nevermore, as in, never more gain weight, never more get sick, or disgustingly fat, never more get cellulite, or any sort of weight gain.” She giggled and the high pitch and redundancy of what she was saying made me shiver. It was a wonder the speakers didn’t blow. She took a breath and continued, “It’s amazing, one shot is all it takes, and yes, it is expensive, but that’s it. One shot and you’re good for life. I’ve lost ten pounds and I’ve been eating burgers, cake, and totally noshing on chocolate.”

  The male announcer came back on. “Reportedly, this Nevermore truly is a miracle drug
, as it also prevents Parkinson’s disease, works in tandem with heart medications to stop arrhythmias, and has a host of other beneficial side effects. One that will be of interest to many is that helps tremendously with fertility, more so than any of the current fertility drugs, with less side effects. As it’s derived from an all-natural source, the body can—”

  I turned the radio back down and looked over to Sebastian, still deep in conversation with Dan, who was nodding and even giving the occasional smile. Sebastian was not only tall, but a little on the large side. Okay, a little more than a little on the large side. Not that I had anything to preen about. I easily had an extra twenty-five pounds on my 5’5 frame. Maybe even thirty, but it was still less than I’d been carrying a year ago when we decided to start our family. That was when we began to realize there was a problem, and that we might not be able to have a baby. I lost weight, ate healthy, took my vitamins, but getting pregnant was nearly impossible and the one time I did, I miscarried.

  I scrathed at my collarbone, feeling a welt swelling rapidly under my finger; I had a sudden urge to get moving. Not only did I need to get a second dose of Benadryl and a shower to wash the broom pollen off, I had to get on the phone to the doctor. What if this Nevermore drug was what the radio said it was? It seemed almost too good to be true: fertility and weight loss, all rolled into a single shot. My heart thrummed with excitement. This was what we’d been waiting for. I could hardly wait to tell Sebastian what I’d heard; I could hardly wait to finally be a mother.

  2

  As soon as we got home, I ran upstairs to shower, hoping to diffuse the pollen on my skin. We’d bought a rambling two-story farmhouse on three acres that was at least a hundred years old that I was completely in love with, along with all the history it represented. It was heated with a woodstove and even had an old wood-burning cooking stove that was now on the back porch, having made room for my new convection oven. The old woman who owned the farmhouse had been on the property her whole life, ninety-eight years, and had not only been raised in the house, but had raised her own children in the house.