Strays

By Sadie Munroe

THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED WITH GOOD INTENTIONS

Lindsey Cane is an outcast, always has been. Even her own parents didn't want her. But after a year on her own, she's finally ready to put her hated hometown behind her for good and track down her wayward mother. She has questions that need answering. But Lindsey isn't the only one with mysteries in her past and when Tyler Stratton, a former classmate who has been gracing milk cartons and missing posters for the past year shows up begging for her help, she does what he asks. She keeps him hidden.

Bruised, beaten and covered in strange swirling tattoos that weren't there before he went missing, Tyler is an enigma and a threat to Lindsey's carefully built facade of normalcy that has kept her safe. But Tyler has secrets of his own, and there are people looking for him. Dangerous people.

Now Lindsey is trapped. Captured and strapped to a gurney. Frog-marched down sterile white hallways. Locked in a ten-by-ten glass cell. Forced to watch, helpless, as one by one the other prisoners are dragged off for testing. Most come back broken.

Some don’t come back at all.

Desperate and scared, Lindsey plots her escape. But there are guards with guns and mysterious men in white lab-coats standing in her way.

And her fellow prisoners are not what they seem.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sadie Munroe
• Release date: Jan 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370939275

Book preview

Strays

a novel

Sadie Munroe

Strays by Sadie Munroe

Copyright © 2016 Sara Eagleson

Cover design by Sara Eagleson

Cover: Mikulas Zacok - Miobi photography D641, Paint Line brush used with permission by env1ro.com

Editor: Danielle Webster

Typesetting: Christa Seeley

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, organizations and locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictiously.

All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination.

ISBN: 9781370939275

ASIN:

For my wonderful family. Thank you for helping me achieve my dreams.

And in case you were wondering... yes. You're allowed to read this one.

Chapter One

now

When Lindsey opened her eyes, the only thing she saw was the darkness.

The first thing she felt was the pain.

Her entire body throbbed in pain to the pounding of her heart. She was on her back, gasping, laid flat against something hard and cold. The back of her head smashed against its surface as she yanked against invisible bonds. She tried to kick out her legs, but they didn’t move. She tried to pull herself away, tried to lift herself off the surface, but her wrists and ankles wouldn’t budge. There was something wrapped around them, leaving her limbs feeling strangled. Something pressed down hard across her chest. She couldn’t move.

No. No no no. This can’t be happening.

A strangled scream tore at her throat but no sound came out. Her head craned back and forth, but everything was shrouded in darkness.

There were voices behind her, muffled and far away. She pulled away from her bonds and wrenched her head back, eyes wide-open, trying to see back behind her. There was a sliver of light around a doorway. Shadows moved across the light. The voices were coming from there, from the other side of the door, but she couldn’t make them out. She tried to scream again but she couldn’t draw in enough air. Every breath was agony. Why wasn’t she dead? Nothing should hurt this bad without killing you, Lindsey thought. Her body was burning from the inside out.

Tears streamed down the sides of her face.

Where am I? Who are those people? Why am I strapped down?

Why can’t I remember?

Gritting her teeth against the pain coursing through her veins, she squeezed her eyes shut and fell into darkness.

then

Lindsey heard the voices in the hallway and stifled a groan as she tugged her jacket on. She knew who they were—well, who one of them was, at least—and she didn’t want to talk to them. Or see them, for that matter.

She swept her long dark hair back into a ponytail and glanced up at the clock ticking away on the wall by the door. She was going to be late for class. Again. Another tardy and Mrs. Lake would give her detention for sure—and then she’d miss her shift at the grocery store. That just wasn’t an option. She needed the money and she needed to graduate. She needed to get the hell out of this town, and that meant that she needed to get the hell out of this apartment, no matter who was out in the hallway, sounding like he was having the time of his life.

She heard the girl’s laugh ring out on the other side of her door and she rolled her eyes. Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think? she thought to herself, taking one more look at the clock and zipping up her jacket with fierce determination. She could do this.

She grabbed her backpack off the sofa, her keys out of the bowl, and yanked open the door.

The girl on the other side jumped in surprise. The guy didn’t.

He smirked instead.

Hey, Linds,

Hey, she said, her voice little more than a grunt, stepping out into the dank hallway and yanking the door shut behind her. She kept her face toward the door as she fumbled with her keys, but through the corner of her eye she snuck a peek at Johnny’s conquest.

It was a new girl this time, but then again, it almost always was. Johnny never kept them around for long. The last one had been beautiful—not that this one wasn’t—all dark skin and dark eyes and willowy limbs. She’d had the look of a dancer. A professional one. Like a ballerina or something. Not the look of some sub-par exotic dancer like some of the ones before her. She hadn’t lasted long. Lindsey had only caught glimpses of her in the hall with Johnny a couple of times. Not long enough to learn her name. It was better that way. It was less personal. It didn’t hurt as much.

She wasn’t used to things hurting like that.

Just another in a list of a million reasons why Johnny was a mistake.

Have you met Grace? he asked, motioning to the girl beside him. She gave Lindsey a strange little smile, all plump lips and twisted sneer, before turning her attention back to Johnny. She was gorgeous too, all curves and pale skin, her hair a tumble of long red curls. The green dress she wore shifted and clung to her body like a second skin, but it was rumpled around the edges. It wasn’t a dress meant to be worn during the day, it was way too suggestive for that, so she must have been wearing it since the night before. Or, more than likely, she was wearing it again after it had spent a good portion of the midnight hours crumpled in a ball on Johnny’s floor.

Classy, Johnny. Real classy.

Johnny had been going out to the clubs almost every weekend for the past six months, and very rarely had he been coming home alone. But if he was picking up girls who’d been clubbing on a Tuesday night, he was really scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Lindsey turned her head just in time to see Grace snuggle closer to Johnny. But then a little line appeared between the redhead’s eyebrows when she looked up. Seeing the girl’s pout, her disgruntled tug at the sleeve of Johnny’s leather jacket, Lindsey followed her gaze and realized that Johnny wasn’t looking at his date. He was looking at her. Oh right, he’d asked her a question. Oh brother. Are we really going through the whole introduction thing? Here?

Nope, Lindsey said, slotting her key into her apartment door. I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.

Yeah, he said, and she could hear the laughter in his voice at her choice of words. Lindsey, he said, all false bravado and politeness, putting on a big show as though he was actually a gentleman and not rubbing his conquest in Lindsey’s face just for fun. This is Grace. Grace, he said, turning to the girl at his side, giving her a squeeze and a smile before directing his attention back to Lindsey. This is my neighbour Lindsey. Lindsey reached over her shoulder and gave a little wave, one with a few more fingers than she wanted to include. We’re just going out to breakfast.

Uh huh, she said, giving the doorknob a good hard shake, making sure the lock held. She’d been having problems with it for months. She’d lock it but it wouldn’t take. The tumblers inside wouldn’t turn over, the lock wouldn’t catch. She’d reported it to the building manager, but hadn’t gotten more than a well what do you expect me to do about it? kind of shrug out of him. It was no secret that the building was a cesspool. The guy who owned it hadn’t set foot in it for years, and it had been crumbling into decay and disrepair ever since he’d left. Really, it surprised her that Johnny even brought his girlfriends back to his place. It couldn’t have given off the best impression. The hallways were damp and dark. Half of the overhead lights had burned out years ago. There was one door at the end of the hall that Lindsey wasn’t sure she’d ever actually seen closed. It always seemed to be left slightly ajar.

It was a creepy place. But when she’d pointed that fact out to the building manager, he’d told her that if it bothered her so much, she should go out and buy herself a new deadbolt. But what would have been the point? She was only a few months away from being done with this stupid town anyway. There was no point in dropping money that she should be saving up for more important things. Like getting out of there once and for all.

She gave the knob one last jerk and took a step back, stumbling over Johnny who had stepped forward and was now standing way too close.

You still having problems with that? he asked, but his voice had lost the teasing tone it had earlier. Now he sounded concerned. She glanced up and saw him staring down at her. All tan skin and green eyes and stupid sandy blond hair.

Lindsey looked away, fixing her eyes on a random dark stain on the wall across from them and reached behind her, jiggling the knob. It remained closed.

It’s fine. She said, leaning down and scooping up her backpack—threadbare and in serious need of repair, like everything else she owned—off the floor and swinging it over her shoulder. It’s not like I have anything worth stealing anyway.

He gave her a little sigh that she really couldn’t decipher the meaning of. You know, he said, stepping closer, I could come over and fix that for you.

She snorted and let herself look back up at him. You? she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. A little grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. She tried to smother it. Have we forgotten last summer’s air conditioner tragedy? He’d managed to shatter the window in his living room last summer when he tried to install an air conditioner—something he’d been talking about getting for weeks, as though Lindsey hadn’t been able to figure out on her own that oh, you’re more than welcome to come hang out at my place if you get too hot was a come-on—and had sliced his hand wide-open on the glass. Lindsey had been forced to bandage him up and drive him to the hospital in his own truck after answering a knock at her door to find him bleeding on her doorstep. It hadn’t been the most impressive day ever. Especially considering the looks half the people at the hospital had shot her way, as though they thought she’d been the one to slice Johnny open herself.

She hated this stupid town.

Johnny rolled his eyes. I knew you’d bring that up, he said, but he was smiling at her. Why did he always have to smile at her? It made being around him so much more difficult. And while I admit that wasn’t my finest moment, I am sure I’m more than capable of installing a deadbolt. No glass this time. Just tools. He crowded a bit closer until she was leaning back against her own door with him hovering over her, staring down into her eyes.

I don’t think you even own tools, Lindsey told him.

Hey, I’m a guy, he said. Of course I own tools. His eyes raked down her body. Somehow, this conversation had gone a new direction, and she really didn’t have time for this.

Lindsey rolled her eyes at him. You are a tool, she muttered, but then she took a bold step forward, getting into his space. She tucked herself up against his body, and dragged her fingertips up his neck, gentle as a whisper, as she pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth close to his ear. Then she dragged her hand down his t-shirt covered chest and slid it beneath his jacket, tucking it against his side, letting it linger there, feeling the warmth seep into her palm. And then, just as he leaned close, she whispered in his ear. I think you forgot about your date. And then she used the hand she’d left on his body to push him out of the way. She shoved past him just as he barked out a laugh and stumbled back. Grace had her arms crossed against her chest and was glaring daggers at the both of them. Lindsey watched as he rubbed the back of his neck, knowing he was caught, and she smiled.

She grinned at the redhead, walking backwards away from them. It was nice meeting you, Grace, she said, before turning away and heading for the stairs.

Just as she reached the door she called out behind her, letting her voice echo through the long hallway. I hope you have a good time at breakfast! She let the door slam shut behind her.

I’m going to be so late, she thought as she ran down flight after flight of stairs. But it was worth it.

now

There are two voices, Lindsey realized. Maybe three.

She still couldn’t make out what they were saying. She caught words here and there, but none of them made sense. So she started focusing on what she could understand. She was alone in the room, the same one as before, as far as she could tell, but she couldn’t be sure how much time had passed since she’d blacked out.

Three voices. Three people. All men. And one of them is younger than the others. His voice isn’t as deep. She wasn’t sure if it mattered, but she filed it away with what she knew. She was in a dark room and was secured to some sort of gurney. She couldn’t move, and she was in pain, though the pain had lessened some. The voices were on the other side of that door, in what Lindsey could only picture as a bright hallway.

There was no one else in the room with her. Something was wrong with her throat, but with her arms lashed down at her sides she wasn’t able to reach up and check out the damage. Still, she’d managed a whisper earlier, and there hadn’t been any kind of response. So unless there was someone in the room who was keeping silent, she was alone.

She didn’t know if that was good or not yet. She still didn’t know where she was.

Or where Johnny was.

With her head craned around, she had tried watching the door for ages, but all she’d been able to make out was shadows against the bright slivers of light that formed the doorway. There was nothing new to see there.

Dark room, she thought. No Johnny. No Tyler. Strapped down. Cold.

Pain.

What the hell is going on?

Where am I?

Lindsey jerked as the door slammed open. Her eyes squeezed shut as a light came on, blinding her.

then

Lindsey made it to school by the skin of her teeth, slipping into her algebra class just seconds before the tardy bell rang. She’d run nearly the whole way there and her panting and her sweaty brow got her a glare from the teacher, but it saved her from detention—or, more than likely, suspension, given the number of detentions she’d amassed over the past few months. It wasn’t easy going to school all day after working all night. But it was what Lindsey had to do to stay fed and housed, so she sucked it up and spent afternoons in detention whenever the long hours caught up to her.

It wasn’t as though she could tell the teachers why she was late. They’d start asking questions that Lindsey couldn’t answer. Questions like Why? and Where’s your mom? and How long have you been on your own?

There was just one more month until graduation. She just needed to keep her head down and keep herself together and she’d be out of there in no time. Once she was out of this town she’d be able to find her mom and figure out what the hell was going on.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to figure out what had happened to Tyler Stratton.

now

Lindsey kept her eyes shut against the glaring light and tried with everything she had not to move, not to draw attention to herself. They were talking about her. All three of them were. No, not three. It was only two now. One of them must have stayed outside.

No. Not talking, she realized. Fighting. It was difficult to understand their words at first. Her head was still swimming from the pain and confusion. But they were disagreeing. Their voices were passionate, their words filled with certainty.

What was going on?

Concentrate.

…she lived, the voice said. The young one. She knew one of them sounded young. She wanted to crack open an eye and check, to put a face to the voice, but she dared not move.

…mean anything, the other one said. It was the older one this time. The first voice had sounded sure, but there had been a slight hesitation to his words, as though he’d been trying to choose them carefully. Like he had someone to convince. This one. The older one was the one that was in charge, the one he needed to convince.

It could mean everything! the younger one insisted. Through her eyelids, she could sense movement, shadows moving and falling over her, cutting across the bright light. She didn’t dare open her eyes. Not now. Not until she knew what was going on.

There was a disgruntled Humph from the older man. It had to be him. The younger one wouldn’t have made that sound. Then there was the sound of scratching. Of writing, she realized, a pen on a clipboard, and then a sharp bang, as though the clipboard had been set down on a nearby table with a snap.

There was movement, footsteps. She could feel them as much as hear them, feel the shift of the air around her body, the vibrations of their steps through the metal she was laying on. She could feel her heart starting to pound again, and she forced herself to remain still, to keep her breathing steady.

A body moved away. Another followed it.

Sir…really. I know I’m right about this.

You have no evidence to prove your theory,