by Max Lockwood
IT BEGAN
A POST-APOCALYPTIC EMP SURVIVAL - ZERO POWER SERIES BOOK 1
MAX LOCKWOOD
Illustrated by
NATASHA SNOW
Edited by
PROOFREADING BY THE PAGE
CONTENTS
Mailing List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
About Max Lockwood
Also by Max Lockwood
Excerpt From Trying To Survive
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Copyright © 2017 by Max Lockwood
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Natasha Snow Designs
Edited by Proofreading By The Page
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the authors’ imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
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CHAPTER ONE
School was annoying, even when she was the one standing at the front.
Clara was rethinking a lot of life choices, and not for the first time. In fact, she thought of it often and wondered why she'd thought it would be a good idea to become a teacher, and a high school teacher at that.
"Now, if you would all just pay attention…"
She threw the words out there not expecting much and sighed because nothing changed anyway. It was a particularly trying class, one of the hardest in a long time. Usually, she could get at least one or two students to pay attention, but that wasn’t even the case.
"Please turn to page fifteen in your textbooks," she tried again, but got nothing.
Still, she couldn’t just stop teaching. So she went on. If anyone caught even part of the lessons, she could take it and—well, not be happy, but at the very least content. She couldn’t even blame them, she remembered what it was like, being a teenager. Few cared about school; she just happened to be among the few, and even she had been impatient for high school to be over.
She was attempting to teach the freshmen about the importance of grammar, but they were all preoccupied with passing notes and giggling amongst one another. It was pretty common, actually, which was why she disliked sitting in first year classes, especially so close to the beginning of the school year.
These kids were fresh from junior high and still thinking like kids, in their mind, school wasn’t so important. That, or they were thinking they could breeze through it like they did junior high. They didn’t know yet that the grades they came out with would pretty much determine their futures. It wasn’t her job to tell them, and would they care about that anyway, even if she did?
Usually she would do something, at least discourage them from such blatant disrespect, but she was tired. She had a specific job description; go in, teach her class, then leave. She was giving them all the materials they would need for their tests. If they didn’t take advantage of it and failed, well… she couldn’t say it wasn’t entirely her problem, since as the teacher, if her students failed she would be held accountable, but she couldn’t even care about it just then.
Clara was just that tired.
When the bell rang, it felt like she hadn't made any progress. It was likely true, but she couldn’t help feeling partly relieved to be done with the day. But largely, she just felt dissatisfied.
"Do you kids know the meaning of discipline? Because if you don’t, I'm going to introduce you to it," she threatened, but their laughter drowned out her voice.
Not that any of them heard her, or if they did, they didn’t seem to care. They were too busy running for the door, about as eager as she was to get out of the room. She knew her attempts at punishment were futile. These kids didn’t take her seriously, and they likely wouldn’t any time soon. She let herself sigh when the last one was out the door and felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders. Not that she was dying to punish them, anyway. It would be best in the long run, but then she'd have to put up with her students pretending to pay attention while secretly hating on her. She didn’t think she could survive pranks being thrown her way, not again, no matter how weak or seemingly harmless.
Clara gathered her things so she could leave. Thankfully, it was her last class of the day, so she had no reason to stick around. She'd collected assignments and a short quiz, though, so she had too much on her hands, literally, and she could only curse herself for the miscalculation. She could have asked one of the students, she'd done it before, but she had a fear of freshmen while they were still so green. It left her anxious at the start of every school year since she taught them English.
She struggled to carry her paperwork out to the car, feeling ridiculous as she tried to juggle everything in her arms with her jacket and the strap of her bag slipping off every now and then. The heels of her shoes weren’t helping, but then she'd been in a rush this morning and ended up with a pair with longer heels than she liked for standing around and teaching. She could only curse herself for the mistake.
Then a kid rushed past her and made her drop it all. It could have been by accident, or not, but she lost her balance and watched everything fall to the ground. There wasn’t much of a breeze to blow the numerous papers too far, so small mercies. Still, she felt the weight on her shoulders grow heavier, knowing she'd have to pick them all up, but wishing for a second that she could just leave it all and go home. Only to sigh, because she knew that would be irresponsible.
She might not like her job, but she needed it.
Close to tears, Clara bent down to pick up her things, grabbing for the papers first before they could flutter away. Her feet ached in her shoes and in her frustration, she wished she could toss them off and lob them at the kid that did this and didn’t even bother to help, though she hadn't even seen who it was.
Dammit!
"Hey!"
Cooper, a friend and fellow teacher rushed over to her. She looked up, startled to see someone else kneeling beside her to help her out. She was surprised, and could only gape at him for a moment. He looked up and winked as he grabbed papers in his hands. She just felt overwhelmed at the nice gesture, Clara couldn’t remember the last time someone had stopped to think about her.
"What?"
She blinked. "Um…"
He rolled his eyes, handing over her hand bag and jacket and taking the papers already in her possession. "Just thought I should remind you I'm here to help—after all, we are carpooling together. So get that look off your face."
She wasn’t sure what face he meant. But after blinking a couple of times, her eyesight w
ent blurry, and she could feel her expression crumple.
No.
She didn’t want to cry, not now—not here, of all places. If any of the kids saw they'd just make fun of her for it later. Kids were cruel, after all, she remembered that much from her high school years, even when they simply thought they were having fun. If she'd ever hurt someone so carelessly, and if she had the opportunity, she'd apologize profusely for being such a little shit.
Cooper saw her crying and his expression softened immediately, a hand raising to wipe a tear away. She wouldn’t let more fall, though. It would only worsen the humiliation. Then his hand tapped her chin lightly.
"Keep your chin up, Clara. I know it's hard, but you don’t have to let yourself be so overwhelmed. If you need any help, you can ask for it. No one would think you’re weak for it."
She gave a huff of laughter, and it sounded a little wet, but she swallowed back the lump in her throat.
No crying.
Cooper Hewett was two years older than her, with dark hair, olive skin and green eyes that always seemed to twinkle with hidden laughter. He was fit and muscular, he looked every part the physical instructor at the school. He was also Clara's best friend—nearly her only friend, really, since she hardly talked to the others as much. He was the only bright spot in most of her days, always looking to make her laugh with his good sense of humor, or give her a pick-me-up when she looked down.
They finished picking up her stuff and he gave her a hand up. She appreciated the help, but knew he wasn’t entirely correct. There were people that would look down on her if she gave in and broke down, they couldn’t help themselves. But she wouldn’t tell him that.
"I'm sorry. I just had a difficult day."
She scoffed internally. What an understatement.
Another kid ran past, and Clara knew before she even opened her mouth that she was going to shout something immature aimed at them.
"I didn’t know Ms. Thomas and Mr. Hewett were in love."
Clara just rolled her eyes without bothering to turn back. The kid could have been sneering at them instead of making light fun, but she didn’t want to see to know which. Not that she had to, because Cooper did.
"Hey, keep running your mouth and I'm gonna give you bad grades as revenge," he mock threatened, making Clara smile as she heard a light laugh behind them, getting further away.
He was better at joking with the students than she was. Hell, he was better at a lot of things. She knew if it had been him in that classroom instead of her, he would have gotten the students to behave while getting their respect in the process. He wouldn’t have the kind of problems she did. Of course, he actually loved what he was doing, when it was just a replacement of her dreams for her.
Of all things about him, she couldn’t understand that. There were times when teaching teenagers actually brought him joy. It helped that he had a positive attitude, and a general outlook towards life. Clara envied him that, just a little.
Cooper led the way to the car, unlocking the door and letting her get in first as he put her paperwork in the backseat with his own smaller workload holding them down, then got in the driver's seat. Finally, they were on their way home, and she couldn’t help feeling relieved, and a little guilty for doing so.
"So, care to tell me what that was all about?" Cooper asked, voice gentle.
Clara knew he meant her almost breakdown. She didn’t want to talk about it, but if there was someone she trusted to tell about her problems, it was him. He'd helped her out more times than she could count, all to be a good friend, acting offended when she even mentioned paying him back for all of it. Besides, maybe it would help lessen her burden a little if she could vent about it.
"I wasn’t in the best place today," she sighed, rolling her head on the headrest to look outside. "I haven't been for a long time, really."
She caught his glances in her peripheral, but wouldn’t meet his eyes.
"What does that mean?"
She sighed again, feeling heavier. "I don’t know, just… I guess my expectations for the job crashed and burned. A while back, I just didn’t want to think about it, and now it's all that I can think about."
"You had expectations in this job?" he joked, and she cracked another smile, only for it to disappear as she sighed again, suddenly feeling older than her years.
"It wasn’t anything realistic, I don’t think. I just didn’t expect to be this…" she floundered, waving her hand, only to let it drop in her lap when she couldn’t find the word.
It wasn’t quite hate, but it was definitely discontent. But that would be stupid to voice out loud, because a lot of people ended up doing what they didn’t like. Complaining would only make her a hypocrite.
"I just wish I could quit," she said suddenly, turning to look at him. He glanced over and caught her eyes for a moment before turning back to the road. "I can't say I entirely hate it, but I did not see this for my life. I hated high school, so like… why the hell did I think becoming a teacher was even a good idea?" she clenched her fists together, looking down at them in her lap. "But no matter how badly I want to. To just quit and look for whatever other job there is out there to tide me over. I know I can't because I'm the only source of income for the family."
She had plenty enough qualifications to attempt it, and she was sure she would find a job, eventually. But with the current economy, it was hard to say when, and where would she get money before that? Besides, of all positions she could take, teaching had some permanence, and even if she lost her job, she could get into another school with little fuss. But that wouldn’t exactly help the problem.
Even if she couldn’t stand her job, she knew she had to, and it was what had carried her forward all this time. Her family needed her. She didn’t mind occasionally going without a meal, but when she had the means to, she wouldn’t let them suffer more than they had to. She was all they had and vice versa, after they lost her parents a while back.
She could complain and cry all she wanted, but she knew she wasn’t the only one hurting. Breaking down on her own would mean being selfish.
"Hey," Cooper murmured, catching her attention and making her turn to him. His voice was low, serious, and so different from his usually happy personality. "I know it's hard. I can't say I fully understand your situation, as you are dealing with things I can't even begin to imagine. But you don’t have to keep it all in. I'm here for you if you ever need anything. And you have to know how I admire you for your hard work. In your position, I would have broken down a lot sooner, believe me. I just can't handle pressure like that."
Not so surprisingly, Clara felt more than just a bit better. Having Cooper around was always good for an ego boost. He was always encouraging her, helping her go on when all she wanted to do was give up. She didn’t believe he wouldn’t be okay in a similar situation, though. He didn’t like too much pressure, but Cooper was reliable. He'd run himself to the ground without complaint to help someone else, as he was already doing with her.
The car slowed down as they got to her house, then parked at the curb. He was out the car before she could stop him, reaching into the back to take her things out for her. She circled around, pulling on her jacket with her bag's strap over her shoulder so she had her arms free to take her things.
"Thank you, Cooper. For… well, everything." There were too many to list them, after all.
He just smiled and leaned closer to give her a kiss on the cheek.
"Don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure, believe me."
She gave him a skeptical look, but didn't argue. She held her things tight to her chest with one arm, holding out the other to pull him into a quick hug, reciprocating the kiss on his cheek, and then he was getting into the car and driving away.
CHAPTER TWO
Clara stood, watching the car drive off until it was out of sight. She hesitated before going into the house, not really wanting to be home.
She loved her family, truly, but with the way she was
feeling, being home wasn’t going to be helpful for her, or anyone. If school was frustrating, being at home was about twice as much. She wondered if she could call Cooper back and do something with him that evening instead. Another reason she'd stuck with school so long, it was another reason to stay away from the usually oppressive atmosphere at home. But she knew she couldn’t just turn back around and leave, knew she had responsibilities to attend to. It wouldn’t be fair to escape, thinking only of herself.
She sighed and entered the house.
Almost immediately, she wanted to step outside and pretend to be peaceful a moment longer. The grocery delivery bags were strewn in the hallway, probably from when they were dropped off hours ago. Since she didn’t have the time and no one else left the house, it was necessary. But it was becoming a common occurrence to come home to find unattended deliveries, and it never grew less annoying.
Her grandmother, Viola, was dozing on the couch. She slept more than anything these days, but usually she was in her room. Clara didn’t like her being by herself. Even if something happened and she was awake, the possibility that she could defend herself was low, but Clara didn’t care about the logistics when it was dangerous either way.
Clara wondered where her sister could be. She knew Tessa would never leave the house alone because of her phobias, though, so she decided it was likely she was in her 'den.' She rolled her eyes and set her things aside to lighten her load. Sure enough, when she went upstairs, she found her sister in her bedroom.
She was meditating, surrounded by scented candles that made Clara's nose twitch, and her tarot cards laid out in front of her. It was another common sight that never grew less annoying, and she couldn’t help the loud sigh that ruined her sister's concentration, eyes snapping open. She shot a glare at Clara that was returned in kind, only fiercer. She was used to her sister's moods already. If only they would stop.
Dark eyes, with bags underlining them, glared at her from under a dark mane of unkempt hair. They looked a lot alike, but Tessa wasn’t big on looking after herself. Clara had to look in a mirror, make herself presentable for her job, but her sister didn’t have that need and she rarely bothered. Clara considered it a small miracle she occasionally remembered to at least shower on her own. Though, Clara would have been glad if Tessa looked after their aging grandmother some more, she knew the dynamics when she left home were usually the reverse.
