Friday, December 5, 2014

GENIUS HOUR TWO; the creepy girl in the woods

GENIUS HOUR TWO; when everything went to Tartarus


XXXXX
The smoke rose above the trees in a warning.
Tatum and I examined it carefully, having scouted ahead. “Think the others can see it?” He asked me.
“I think that’s the least of our worries,” I tapped my fingers thoughtfully against my chin. “I’m more concerned with who started it.”
“You think one of the teams did it?”
I turned my gaze to him, surprised. “Don’t you?”
He shrugged. “I was thinking that it was caused by lightning or something. There was that storm last night on the train.”
“Nethertheless, I think we should steer clear of it for now.”
“Could the groups be that far ahead?” His eyebrows furrowed. “We just barely got back into the woods.”
I looked at the smoke thoughtfully. “It’s….possible.” I said slowly, “so for now, let’s just keep going. We need to steer clear of that fire though; if the woods catch, we’re screwed.”
“I agree.”
I nodded, a thought coming to mind. I sat my backpack on the ground and started to rummage through it. “What are you looking for?” Tatum stood over me, eyebrows furrowed.
“The map,” I said. “I’ve kept track of exactly where we are, based on the miles we walk a day. I need to check something.”
He didn’t say anything as I unrolled it across my knees, taking out my pen. Doing a few calculations in my head and glancing at the compass, I guess where we were. “It’s what I thought.” I looked up at him. “The smoke is coming from a disaster zone.”
His eyes narrowed, “what?
I leaned back on my haunches. “I know. Another group went to one and obviously something went wrong.”
“Should we go take a look?”
Someone stumbled out of the trees and Tatum’s gun was out of his holster and trained on the person. It was a girl; she had a slightly crazed look to her eyes and patches of her hair were missing. The remaining locks looked as if it had been burned into clumps around her skull. Nasty scabs covered her skin.
“Please don’t shoot,” her voice was raspy as she threw her hands in front of her face. Her movements were jerky.
“Who are you.”
“I’m from group ten,” She said.
I glanced at Tatum, then back to her. “Is your the group that started the fire?”
She nodded. “Yes. The rest of them are gone. I will be soon.”
“What do you mean?” I rolled up the map and stuffed into my back before standing. “Did the fire kill them?”
She shook her head. “The fire was started on accident; the place released a chemical on us.”
Tatum raised the gun slightly, casting a concerned look my way. “A chemical? That does what, exactly?”
“It made us all sick.” She started to cough, horrible hacking sounds. She spit blood onto the ground before straightening up. She wiped her mouth on the pale skin of her arm. “Some of us were okay for a while. They started attacking each other like rabid animals.
“They’re...eating each other.” She started to shake. “We all got it,” her voice took on a crazed note, “even me. I’m going to be a monster soon.”
“How many are left?” I asked, trying to snap her out of her weird mood.
Her fever induced eyes flashed to my face. “There’s at least three more. They’re after me. They’ll be here soon.”
Tatum’s gaze locked in on my panicked one. “We need to get out of here. Now.” He lowered the gun, scanning our surroundings before turning to the girl. “Come with us.”
“No!” She screeched I winced. Her scream had probably alerted them of our location. “I’m infected!” She spit blood. “Kill me now and get out of here.”
Tatum shook his head. “ No. We’ll help you.”
She fell to her knees, her shoulders sagging. “Please. Show me mercy. Don’t let me become like them.”
He looked at me; his eyes were wide. I turned to her. “We can help you!”
Her shoulders began to shake and she started to wail. “Nooo!” Her head snapped up. “You can’t save me! The hunger is too much!” Her eyes started to roll around in her head.
“You just need to come with us,” I said as calmly as I could, trying to sooth her.
She flung herself at Tatum, cackling madly. His arm jerked up and he fired. She fell over, not moving.
“We should leave,” his voice was cold.
“You didn’t have a choice-” I tried to say.
He cut me off, still not looking at me. “Now.”

I nodded once and followed him back the way we came.

GENIUS HOUR; Porter wakes up

Genius hour post; THE END OF MY NOVEL





Epilogue

Porter's head hurt. He had been given another injection a few hours ago, but it had worn off and he was awake again.
He was spread on a metal table, the kind they use for surgeries. His glasses were on a table next to him and he stood to retrieve them.
There was only one window in the room. He walked towards it, swaying slightly. He stopped and grabbed the table to regain his balance. When he was sure that he would not fall over, he stepped forward and peered out the glass.
Old buildings rose high into the sky. The streets below were dirty and full of people. They were dressed in rags and trying to sell things from stands off the side of the street. He seemed to be high up; the ground was far below him.
The door opened behind him and he turned to see a man with short black hair and was wearing a black suit. "Porter Rydell," his voice was clipped and crisp.
"Where am I?"
He looked out the window before facing Porter. "New Las Vegas."
"What?" Porter looked out the window and back at the man. "You're joking."
"I assure you I am not," he man smiled a little. "You were brought here by Barton. Apparently you're one hell of a medic and your friend is an exceptionally good fighter."
The events of the previous day seemed to wash over Porter all at once. "There was a kid with us. Tatum-Eric Steele Jr. He had just been shot. Is he alive?"
The man nodded. "Yes he is. But not for long. Unless you agree to help us."
"What do you want me to do?" Porter asked quickly. Tatum was his friend. He would do whatever it took to keep him alive.
The man smiled, "We need a medic to patch up the Glades after the gladiator fights."
"The what?"
"Gladiator fights. Things in Los Vegas are a little different than they are in Los Angeles," The man leaned against the table, arms folded over his chest. "Here we have weekly matches. Fights to the death. People love to gamble on them. The Lee girl has already consented to fight in them as long as the Dashner boy is alive and remains with her. Mr Steele will be returned to you three if you agree to the terms."
Porter absorbed the information for just a few seconds before he asked, "what are the terms."
He smiled. "Well Mr Rydell, Jared will explain those to you soon enough."
"And who are you?"
"Charles Mason." The man held his hand out, "I run the gladiator fights. And practically all of Los Vegas."
Porter took his hand and shook it firmly. "Now," he stood straighter, "Where are my people?"

THE END