by Max Lockwood
Thomas felt dizzy. He couldn’t help but wonder if the bodies came from the cottage he’d escaped. He put his hands on his knees and tried not to vomit. It felt like Mark was playing a mean trick on him.
“Come on,” Mark said gently, leading him toward the base. Soldiers led them back inside the building, their feet dragging with fatigue from being out all night.
“We’re going to the briefing room,” Mark said to a green Thomas. “I don’t think there will be any bodies in there.”
Thomas walked inside, his eyes directed toward the floor the whole time. He couldn’t look at Mark’s eager expression without it feeling like the walls were closing in on him. He wanted to turn around and run to General Population where no one was confronting him with his past.
When he entered the briefing room, Thomas finally raised his head. He planned on sitting quietly and listening to what was said, then politely declining Mark’s attempts to recruit him. The new army was not for him.
When Thomas looked up, he saw the face of Will Domenica staring back at him.
Rage boiled within Thomas. Suddenly, he was able to add the missing pieces to the puzzle he had struggled to solve. The new army had something to do with the cabin fire. Will was part of the new army. Will caused the fire.
It was so simple. Will clearly lost his mind or was never entirely all there to begin with. When he went to get water, he purposefully deserted the group. Instead of being attacked in the woods, he must have hidden out, waiting for the opportune moment to get his revenge on Melissa and the person who cared about her the most.
“You,” Thomas roared, pointing a finger at Will. “You did this to me. Why would you try to kill me? I did nothing to deserve this. You’re a murderer.”
Will blinked. “I’m actually glad you survived the fire. I didn’t want you to die.”
Thomas threw his hands in the air. “Are you kidding me? So, what did you do? Did you tell the army that you found fugitives or infected people and torched the place?”
He shook his head. “Justice has been served. Besides, the place was filled with candles. What did you think would happen?”
Thomas trembled with rage. He couldn’t believe that Will was standing in front of him, casually talking about his attempted murder. Or, as far as he knew, he had gotten away with Melissa’s murder.
“Is her body here?” Thomas choked out. “Is Melissa here?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.”
Thomas clenched his jaw. It was taking every last ounce of restraint not to punch him in the face. He would have no problem hitting him if it weren’t for the other soldiers in the room.
“They were right not to trust you,” Thomas said darkly. “They knew that you were bad. You let Derek be attacked by the infected. You repeatedly tried to kill Melissa. You think your friends were on your side, but they weren’t. When you disappeared, they were relieved.”
Will winced but covered it up with a scowl. “I don’t care.”
Thomas smirked. He knew he had gotten to Will. It wouldn’t bring Melissa back, but it was a small victory.
“Who is he talking about?” Mark asked Will. “Who didn’t trust you?”
“No one,” Will replied. “He’s trying to get under my skin, that’s all. I’m sorry to say, but if he’s the best you’ve got, you may need to reevaluate your recruitment tactics.”
“No, he’ll do just fine,” Mark said. “He does seem a little agitated right now, though.”
“You’re damn right I’m agitated!” Thomas bellowed. “Will murdered Melissa. No one could survive a car crash, a gunshot, and being burned alive. He killed my friend and he is a danger to everyone around him.”
“You’re causing a scene,” Mark said. “Why don’t I take you back to your bunk so you can calm down?” he suggested, taking Thomas by the crook of his arm.
“I don’t care,” Thomas spat. “Just get me away from him.”
Mark escorted Thomas through a different set of doors through a corridor Thomas hadn’t seen before. He looked back over his shoulder to find that Will was still following them.
“Get away from me, murderer,” Thomas growled, turning to face forward.
“Melissa murdered Natalia, plain and simple,” Will said. “She deserved to die for what she did to Natalia.”
“No one would ever agree with you, you lunatic,” Thomas retorted as he continued to march down the hallway.
“I would,” a voice said from behind Will.
Thomas turned around to see a man in a white lab coat and glasses giving him a curious smile. The scientist came closer, extending his soft hand to Thomas.
“We haven’t met. I’m Dr. Bretton Vincent,” he said, shaking Thomas’s limp hand.
Thomas’s heart pounded at that name. He remembered hearing about him when he was guarding Elaina’s cell at the courthouse. If he recalled the story correctly, the man shaking his hand was responsible for all of Thomas’s pain in the last few months. At that moment, Thomas didn’t have the wherewithal to hurt the man or even scream insults to his face. He felt numb.
The doors at the opposite end of the corridor burst open and Bethany ran down the hall toward Thomas. Bretton casually leaned his head into the office and coolly asked for assistance.
“You’re in restricted territory,” Bretton said to Bethany. “If you do not leave this instant, I will have guards escort you out.”
“Bethany, get the hell out of here,” Mark warned, his pleasant disposition suddenly going cold.
“Leave him alone,” she said, grabbing on to Thomas’s other arm.
Two guards immediately swarmed Bethany and restrained her, waiting for further instruction.
“I need you to trust me,” Mark said to Bethany in a hushed voice. “Listen and do as you are told. It’s in your best interest.”
“Tell me what’s going on here,” Thomas demanded. “You can’t just keep people here against their will. Let Bethany and me go and we won’t cause you any problems.”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option,” Bretton said. “You are now a member of my army.”
“Your army? I didn’t agree to anything.”
“No?” Bretton asked. “Then I guess I’m giving an executive order. You are now officially a soldier. Let’s get to work.”
Two burly guards took hold of Thomas as he squirmed to get away. Bethany was shoved into an unused office space and Thomas was marched down the hall into the laboratory.
“Goodbye, Thomas,” Will said dryly. “I hope you find a way to survive this.”
Thomas fought to get away, but he was outnumbered. He dropped to his knees, but the guards simply raised him off the ground and carried him to a seat where he was promptly restrained.
He tried to wiggle loose from the bindings around his wrists and ankles, but they were too tight. He was starting to wear himself out in a futile battle.
Bretton Vincent filled a syringe and injected Thomas in the neck as the guards held Thomas’s head steady. The prick of the needle didn’t hurt, but the freezing sensation of the injection made Thomas want to jump out of his skin.
“Expect some drowsiness at first,” Bretton said, placing the used syringe in a biomedical waste container. “That will soon pass. Then, we’ll begin your trials. If you make the cut, you’ll join our team of elite super-soldiers. Good luck.”
The guards tossed Thomas into a small padded cell and locked the door behind him. He scrambled to look through the tiny, barred window, hoping someone would see him and rescue him. Instead, he only caught sight of Will returning to the body bags, dragging them into a storage container.
The drowsiness that Bretton described was an understatement. Thomas collapsed onto the ground, no longer able to support his body weight. Then, the tremors set in. He shivered uncontrollably, but he never felt any warmer. Suddenly, he was burning hot. He begged for help, but no one was there to hear him.
He started having hallucinations. He could see dark figures approa
ch him, but their presence infuriated him. He wanted to rip them to shreds but didn’t know why. It was like he had become part beast, and his human side couldn’t communicate with the new part of him. Then, at the height of his fury, everything went dark.
The next thing he knew, Thomas was lying in a pile of rubble with smoke occluding his vision. Red warning lights flashed and loud sirens seemed to pierce his eardrums.
Thomas whimpered. He felt like all of his energy had been drained out of him and the terrifying hallucinations would not cease. He just wanted to feel normal again.
A hand reached into the remains of his destroyed cell and pulled him out from underneath the crumbled cinderblocks.
“Run,” Alec screamed over the chaos. “We have to get out of here.”
Thomas didn’t know if what he was seeing was real or not, but he listened to Alec’s voice anyway. He tried to pull himself up to his feet, but he fell back down like a newborn deer.
“Come on,” Alec urged. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
With all of the strength in his body, Thomas got up and staggered after Alec. The bright lights and loud noises were disorienting, and at times, Thomas wasn’t sure what he was doing or where he was going.
“What happened?” he asked Alec as they dodged rubber bullets.
“No time to talk. Get on the bike and I’ll explain later.”
Alec had to help Thomas onto the bike and wrapped Thomas’s arms around his torso, terrified that he would fall off in his weakened state. Miraculously, Thomas managed to hold on as Alec gunned it out of the base and navigated back onto the road.
“Stick with me,” Alec murmured as Thomas’s head lolled. “Focus on getting to safety.”
Thomas held on as tightly as he could while Alec did his best to evade the army. He didn’t know what to focus on, so he thought about Melissa’s grandparents’ house, using all of the details she’d told him about the place as they sat on the cabin couch together. He pictured himself walking through the horse pasture when Alec stopped the bike and yanked him off.
“Are you infected?” Alec asked frantically, setting Thomas down to rest against a tree on the side of the road. He tossed him a bottle of water from the motorcycle’s storage compartment.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t remember anything. I’m just really tired and weak right now. I don’t think I’m infected. I’d know, right?”
Alec shrugged. “I don’t have a good answer for that.”
“Where are we going?”
Alec sighed and checked his watch. “I was hoping we’d make it back to Elaina, but we’re too late. The United States military sent a helicopter to pick her up and take her to a lab in New York, but she’s already gone by now.”
Thomas flinched upon hearing about the military. He wasn’t sure why, but it frightened him.
“No, this is the actual government military,” Alec said, noticing his discomfort. “This isn’t the militia led by Dr. Vincent. You’re going to be fine. You’ll never have to deal with them again. Melissa wasn’t with you, by chance? I didn’t see her.”
Thomas shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Alec frowned. Perhaps she had been in the fire and his denial had kept him from identifying her body.
“How did you find me?” Thomas asked.
“I went back to the cabin and saw what happened. I followed the only tire tracks I saw, and eventually, it led me to the militia’s base. It wasn’t easy to find you.”
Thomas blinked. There was so much he couldn’t remember and it was frustrating him.
“How did you get in? Why was I covered in dust?”
Alec gave him a wry smile. “I found explosive devices in a truck near the entrance. I suppose they didn’t think anyone would come for them. I started a few small explosions to distract the soldiers so I could find you. I saw you through the window, blasted the wall down, and then we booked it. Their defenses aren’t as strong as they need to be if they’re breaking that many laws.
Alec helped him to his feet and got back on the bike. Thomas followed, wrapping his arms around Alec’s waist. He felt odd doing so, but he was still afraid that he wouldn’t be able to hold on to the bike on his own.
“Where are we going?”
“To New York. I promised Elaina I’d meet her there.”
Alec turned from the dirt road onto the highway, driving as quickly as the motor would allow. He would be with Elaina again if it was the last thing he would ever do.
Chapter Thirty-One
The wind caused the trees to sway ominously, making Melissa nervous. Hours had passed and she feared she was about to lose her mind.
“I’m bored,” Ariel whined for the tenth time.
“And my car is destroyed,” Bobby Dean complained. “And it’s all your fault.”
“Shh,” Melissa said. “It sounds like gunshots. Or an explosion. Or maybe a car backfiring.”
She heard rustling from below. The infected came out of their dormant state and ran toward the noise, abandoning their targets in the tree.
“Now’s our chance,” Melissa whispered and quickly climbed down from the tree. She ran back to the road, Ariel and Bobby Dean in tow.
Once Bobby Dean got a closer look at his car, he began to fight with Ariel again. It was totaled—rendered completely unusable. He blamed her for being the cause of his troubles, and she fought back, blaming him for her poor treatment.
Melissa looked down the road. She had two options—she could either cut her losses and run, evading the two ex-lovers so she could retain a little sanity, or she could stick with them in hopes that they would eventually be of use to her.
She took a deep breath, refocusing on what was important—staying alive. While it appeared that the two had no valuable skills, she figured they had to know something useful. Clenching her fists, she turned around to face Ariel and Bobby Dean.
“Arguing isn’t going to get us out of here any faster,” she said, interrupting them. “Are you guys coming?”
They looked surprised, as if they had no idea that their constant bickering inconvenienced anyone else. But they followed Melissa down the road, headed toward the border they could never seem to reach.
Though she had suffered much more in the past week than she ever imagined she would in one lifetime, Melissa kept her head up and continued traveling toward safety. Surviving the numerous attacks did nothing to break her down but only gave her a stronger will to live. When it came down to it, there was no other option in her mind than to keep going.
As she led her small, dysfunctional pack down the highway, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. She just hoped that one day, everyone who doubted her would see her thrive.
About Max Lockwood
Max Lockwood writes suspenseful, post-apocalyptic thriller and dystopian fiction while living in New York.
Growing up with parents who were preppers and always planning for the worst, but hoping for the best, got him interested in writing in the first place. “What would happen if the world were to change?” is something he asked himself his whole life. Until one day he decided to put it down on paper.
His stories will have you reading on the edge of your seats…you have been warned!
Sign up for Max’s mailing list and find out about his latest releases, giveaways, and more. Click here!
For more information, be sure to check out the links below!
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Also by Max Lockwood
The Morgan Strain Series
Point Of Transmission (Book 1)
Point Of Proximity (Book 2)
Point Of Dispersion (Book 3)
Zero Power Series
It Began (Book 1)
Trying To Survive (Book 2)
They Invaded (Book 3)
Fending Them Off (Book 4)
Excerpt From It Began
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.
