Greyson Gray_Deadfall_Thrilling Adventure Series for Preteens and Teens

by B. C. Tweedt

  Suddenly the ground beneath him flattened. The ride was smoother; the walls became white and tiled. There was a bright light over him. He heard the voices of doctors, felt the syringe. The light faded, dimmer, dimmer, and gone.

  Orion woke and clutched at his throat. There was something clogging his throat! Like he had swallowed concrete, it had solidified – pressing cold and hard against the sensitive skin inside his esophagus. It choked him!

  He panicked and thrashed about, ripping tubes from his skin and sending the electronic monitors into a beeping frenzy. He needed to breathe, but he couldn’t! He couldn’t swallow the metal! Doctors rushed to his side, soldiers grabbed his arms, and he felt inhuman groans and hisses escape from his own mouth.

  And then his father stood over him, his hands behind his back. “Just breathe.”

  Orion couldn’t; he felt the panic pull his thoughts every which way – toward death, fear, and spiraling to despair.

  “You’ll do it. Breathe.”

  The room was fading to black. He felt lightheaded, nauseated. His eyes pleaded with the doctors and the soldiers, but they landed on his father. He was smiling.

  Smiling.

  Orion breathed.

  The sound that escaped was that of a hissing monster. It breathed for him, reaching into his lungs and pulling out a dark, metallic breath. A sound of a child’s nightmares, under the bed.

  He inhaled and felt at his throat. With each breath came a rattling hiss.

  His head swooned as the oxygen gave him new life.

  A doctor showed him a mirror.

  He jerked back, eyeing the doctor as if he had shown him a great lie. But the doctor shook the mirror and pushed it closer. Orion dared to look again.

  A black, metal, snake-like tube was dug into his chest, curling up the middle of his throat to the underside of his chin. Orion’s fingers ran along its scales as he listened to the sound.

  The doctor holding the mirror spoke to him. “We replaced your esophagus, but the hissing sound may be a result of an incomplete vocal chord seal. Test your voice.”

  Orion was afraid. He was afraid it wouldn’t work, or worse yet, he’d sound like a freak. He hesitated, the breath coming up and down his new throat like a gasping python.

  But he worked up the courage, thinking of the fanny pack squeezing around his neck, of Greyson watching from the side. The hate burned within and erupted in a scream both harmonic and hideous, churning within his throat.

  The onlookers jerked back and released his arms. Only Emory didn’t flinch. When the scream had echoed its last in the cave’s medical chamber, Orion snarled viciously, looking at his father. Tears formed under his eyes and trickled out.

  “I’m ssss-orry,” he said with his new voice. It hissed and it rattled from the depths of his throat.

  Emory stepped closer, perplexed. “For what? Despite the blip with the Redmond girl, it was a success. They added Pluribus to the list. Soldiers are raiding houses in nearly every city, and the people will witness the evil hand of tyranny first hand. Our army grows by the hundreds every day, whether through the borders or from converts within. Most importantly, enough missiles hit their targets for the next stage to begin. Why are you sorry?”

  Orion blinked hard, then his pained eyes squinted as if he could see Greyson somewhere in the distance. “I didn’t kill him. He might…be alive.”

  Emory scoffed. “It’s amusing, how Fate works.” He paced around the edge of the bed. The doctors and soldiers moved from his path. “I had my nemesis. Now you have yours. Like father, like son. I conquered mine after so long; you will, too, in time.”

  “Yes. I will. I’ll kill him!” Orion breathed deeper and deeper, finding the sound slipping through his vocal chords more and more familiar. It had an ominous tone, but was somehow rhythmic and comforting.

  Hehhhhhsssssssta-ta-ta-ta. Hehhhhhsssssssta-ta-ta-ta. “How do I find him? Greysss-on?”

  Emory put his hand to his chin in thought. “Now that he’s with Rubicon, it will be more difficult. But I suppose he may come to us, now that he knows.”

  “Knows?”

  “His father’s with us.”

  Orion smiled through his pain. “Let him come.”

  Epilogue

  Yotty’s Ice Cream Store had attracted a record number of people for an early morning at the Iowa City Mall. The crowd had come, little by little, pulled away from their shopping toward the little counter with 55 flavors displayed beneath glass counter tops. Instead of the usual one or two in line, the gathering only grew bigger as the crowd became a spectacle in itself, murmuring in tense excitement. But the customers weren’t eyeing the flavors – their eyes were fixed on the store’s television screen where Yotty’s newest deals and flavor combinations were once being showcased. But someone had changed the channel, and the screen was filled with images from a 24-hour cable news network.

  A young, college-aged man shimmied into the crowd, his heart already racing. Somehow he knew it was another attack, but he hoped it was something else.

  The images became clearer as he shimmied closer. A storm – a hurricane – being filmed from the beach. The camera shook, the image was blurry. The voice of the amateur cameraman was barely discernible, but it had reached a high pitch that only fear could emit. Finally the camera zoomed in and found its focus on the outline of the remains of a sinking ship, with fires burning despite the downpour.

  The young man gasped. “Is that a…?”

  “USS Coronado,” a bearded man said beside him.

  A lump rose in the young man’s throat, but the images continued. Another amateur photographer captured what looked like meteorites, falling in a cluster, streaking through the night sky.

  “What’s that?” one spectator asked.

  “Are we being attacked? Is it starting already?” a woman asked no one in particular, grabbing on to the arms of those nearby.

  “It’s satellite debris,” the bearded man stated definitively, pointing at the TV. “They shot ‘em down.”

  The young man eyed the screen where streaks streamed through the night over another location – in another state – but he wasn’t really watching anymore. His eyes had begun to glaze. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his shopping bag full of useless junk. He wouldn’t need it anymore. He was done with this life.

  “Where’s the nearest recruiting station?” the young man seethed.

  The bearded man turned to him. He arched his brow. “Going to sign up?”

  The young man set his jaw. “I got to do something.”

  “Good for you. Good for you!” The bearded man pointed across the wide thoroughfare, where a makeshift recruiting kiosk had been set up to help meet the demand of the recent influx of volunteers.

  “Looks like Fate is helping you out today,” the man said.

  A few others were listening to their conversation, adding their own bits of encouragement, but the young man was working up his own courage. It had been building for months. He’d nearly signed up after the bomb, but the ensuing uncertainty of whom he’d be fighting gave him second thoughts. Without a clear enemy, his anger had no place to rest. But after Camden…after this…he knew for certain.

  “I’d be the first to cheer you on as you sign up,” the bearded man said, “but, being a father myself, you might want to talk this through with your parents first.”

  “My father’s a Marine.”

  The bearded man smiled and gave a light laugh. “Then, by all means, make him proud!”

  The young man nodded to himself. His dad would be proud. He’d been proud of him after the attack at Morris – for playing a vital role in thwarting the Plurbs there – but the young man had known in the back of his mind that it was the kids who had stopped the terrorists. They had been the ones who had truly risked it all to do something about the evil. If twelve-year-olds could be that courageous, so could he.

  He glanced to the posters on each side of the recruiting kiosk, where emblazoned red letters wo
rds aimed straight at his heart.

  The land of the Free,

  Home of the Brave, remains free

  When brave men dare fight

  When brave men dare fight.

  He breathed in deep and long, suddenly very sure of himself. Fate had meant for him to see the words. He couldn’t help but to obey.

  “I’m going to do it.”

  The bearded man stepped back and announced to the crowd. “He’s going to sign up! He’s going to send the Plurbs to where they belong!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, and the young man blushed.

  “What’s your name, son?” the bearded man asked amidst the cheering.

  The young man leaned in to whisper. “Brandon.”

  Brandon left the crowd with a confident stride toward the recruiting kiosk, the cheers and applause buoying him along.

  The adventure only gets more epic.

  Get Rubicon now, before you forget! CLICK HERE!

  (www.bit.ly/GGrubicon)

  The startling events of Deadfall force the government’s heavy hand – prompting it to enact a harsh new law to rid the country of Pluribus – even when it means sacrificing its citizens’ freedoms to do so.

  Stunned and weary, Greyson and his friends retreat to Colorado with the paramilitary group, Rubicon, but it isn’t long until Sydney and Nick are called on a mission, leaving Greyson with no choice but to recover and train, more ready to take on Pluribus whenever he may be called.

  A year passes, and the country still suffers from the fallout of the new law, with neighbors pitted against neighbors, nationwide protests, and renewed threats of secession. Even worse, Pluribus and the peace-destroying Wolves work under the radar on a bold, crippling attack they hope will send the country over the brink, spiraling to unavoidable civil war.

  When Rubicon finally calls Greyson to mission only days before the Pluribus attack, he must wield new ammunition and work with friends across the country – both old and new – to face the incredible threat. In a frenzy of explosions, deadly drones, and dazzling new technology, Greyson fights the terrorists in urban streets, snow-covered mountains, and towering skyscrapers in pulse pounding action that challenges Greyson to his core.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  B.C. Tweedt lives in North Liberty, Iowa with his beautiful wife, Julie, and son Maverick. Because he can be a big kid at times, even at the age of 31, he enjoys hanging with other kids. He volunteers at a youth group and mentors boys in his free time. There is nothing he loves more than seeing kids grow in wisdom and character. The characters in The Greyson Gray Series are a conglomeration of many of the real personalities and humors he knows and interacts with on a daily basis.

  Though Greyson Gray: Deadfall is only the third book published from B.C. Tweedt, he has plans for a fairly long series, following Greyson as he grows up in an increasingly divided and threatening world. B.C. has thoroughly enjoyed brainstorming ideas for this series while running, listening to epic movie soundtracks, and researching in exotic places like the Texas.