Annihilation: A YA dystopian adventure (The Mind Breaker Series Book 3)

by Marina Epley

  Marina Epley

  The Mind Breaker

  ANNIHILATION

  The Final Book in THE MIND BREAKER Trilogy

  In accordance with U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at epleymarina@gmail.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Copyright by Marina Epley

  Cover design by Ammonia Book Covers

  Amazon Edition

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  Table of Contents

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Part 2

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Part 3

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Back to Top

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  I can vividly see her in my dreams. She’s standing right in front of me, all decked out in camo, long red hair flowing over her shoulders. Kitty. I still don’t know whether she’s dead or alive. She moves her lips, trying to tell me something, but I can’t comprehend a single word.

  I wake up, disappointed and confused. I can’t understand whether I’m having telepathic visions, or my imagination is working in overdrive.

  Perhaps Kitty along with the rest of my friends are goners. Maybe I just don’t want to accept their deaths.

  It’s early morning and dim light seeps through the window blinds. I hear the sounds of gunfire and high-pitched voices coming from outside. Feeling troubled and lonely, I stagger to the sink to wash my face with cold water. I put on my Retaliation uniform, approach the window and take a cautious glimpse out into the prison yard.

  The main gates of the Death Camp open as military trucks pull in, carrying several dozen freshly captured non-breakers. A handful of guards dressed in camo uniforms identical to mine command the prisoners to line up along a wall. The fresh inmates obediently execute the order. I make out a few old people and little kids amongst them. I’m sure they’ve committed no real crime and their only guilt lies in being non-breakers. The guards open fire and I watch silently as the inmates fall.

  One of the soldiers notices me and salutes, believing me to be his commander. They all look on me as some sort of hero and living legend, the one who assassinated all the leaders of our former government and took over the country. The thought makes me sick.

  The truth is, I’m nothing more than a prisoner here. My captors transported me to the Death Camp 3 weeks ago, when my condition finally stabilized. This place used to be the largest Elimination prison in the Republic, designed specifically for terminating captured mind breakers. Now, it’s used as Retaliation headquarters and a place where breakers terminate ordinary humans 24/7. There’s little difference to me.

  I’m living in quarters once occupied by an Elimination executive. It reminds me of a cheap motel room furnished with a bed, TV, table and a couple of chairs. It contains a small closet and bathroom as well. The door is permanently locked, and guards always follow me any time I’m allowed to leave this room. Except for the transport from the hospital, I haven’t been outside for a full 4 months.

  That changes tomorrow. I’m determined to escape, no matter how hard it may prove to be. I must return to Kitty as I promised. Assuming she’s still alive, that is.

  Tomorrow my captors will transport me to the Retaliation parade in the capital. This is going to be my first real opportunity for escape. So I have to find a way and get rid of the blocking collar around my neck, which prevents the ability for hypnosis. Luckily, I know someone who may help with this particular task.

  The door opens at 7 AM sharp and a young girl with long red hair strolls in. Her eyes are unnaturally green, so I suspect she’s being forced to wear contact lenses. She claims to be sixteen, the same age as Kitty, but I can bet she’s closer to twelve. Kitty looks much younger than her actual age, and this girl is obviously intended to be her replacement. She’s dressed in a white mini-dress and wears high heels, moving along somewhat unsteadily. A tray with my breakfast is clutched in her small hands.

  “Good morning, Rex!” the girl exclaims, stretching her lips into a well-trained smile. “I was missing you so badly.”

  “Hi Chelsey,” I say, forcing a grin. “I’ve been missing you too.”

  Maintaining the same frozen smile, Chelsey marches across the room and places the tray on the table.

  “Breakfast is served,” she announces cheerfully, then approaches and wraps her arms around my neck. She performs the same annoying ritual every morning. After an awkward kiss on my cheek, she asks, “So you were thinking of me?”

  “Night and day,” I answer.

  Normally, I have to lie, but not today. I’ve spent plenty of time recently trying to figure out how to turn Chelsey against Retaliation.

  She giggles, motions to the tray and suggests, “Please eat.”

  I begin eating my breakfast, although I have no real appetite. Chelsey leaves me alone for a while, standing by the window and gazing into the prison yard. She must not realize I’m paying any attention to what she’s doing, because her face suddenly loses its beaming expression. Her eyes become distant and sad, and her smile fades. And for a split second I believe I may actually see the true Chelsey, a real human being, not a pretentious doll. The realism lasts only a moment. Chelsey catches my wary gaze and quickly curls her lips back into an artificial grin.

  I smile back at her.

  Chelsey and I have a very complicated relationship.

  Guardian sent her to me after delivering the despairing news about Kitty’s death. I was faking clinical depression in order to make Retaliation believe I had no fight left in me. They sent Chelsey, looking disturbingly similar to Kitty and vigorously pretending to be in love with me. She was supposed to become an amusement, a little trade-off for my agreeing to cooperate. I assume I could do whatever I like with Chelsey. But mostly, I’ve just wanted to kick her out of my room and yell at her to never come back. I didn’t, because I had to make my captors think they had ultimate control over me. I needed a way to lower their guard to make an escape more feasible. So I’ve been playing along with this girl, pretending to be interested.

  I used to strongly dislike her. I was disgusted at the fact that someone so young and innocent-looking could also be that manipulative. I tried to catch Chelsey in her lies. I made her repeat the same stories about her family, school and time spent in Elimination prison over and over. I wanted to find any inconsistencies, some small details she’d forgotten. But Chelsey never made the tiniest mistake, her lies being stunningly accurate and c
onsistent. And soon my resentment gave way to a deepening respect. I had to admit she was a great actress, a calculating and headstrong girl.

  Recently, I started to suspect that Chelsey might be as much a victim here as myself. I finally began to realize that my captors likely forced her to play this game. We could be in the same boat, each having been reduced from independent human beings into Guardian’s puppets. And just possibly, I could dare to obtain Chelsey’s help in my escape.

  I still don’t know anything for certain though. I wish to utilize Chelsey in my plans, but how can I trust this girl? There’s always a possibility that she’s spying on me, willingly cooperating with my captors. So I have to be careful and find proof of her reliability first.

  After I finish breakfast, Chelsey offers to watch TV with me. I agree because I need to buy some time to think. I haven’t quite decided what I should do with her. How can I snap Chelsey out of her pretentious mode?

  I sit in a chair in front of the TV, pretending to watch the news. Chelsey approaches and plops down on my lap, placing her head on my shoulder. I envision myself grabbing Chelsey and shaking her, demanding she quit pretending. I remain motionless, just watching the news.

  Currently, there’s only one channel available, the one taken over by the so-called Army of Justice. Newly hired correspondents proudly report on cities and towns being liberated by breakers. They show unsettling images of burning buildings and piles upon piles of mutilated human corpses. They’ve been broadcasting similar videos for a few weeks now. The entire country seems to be collapsing with hundreds of innocent people being killed every day.

  Breaker journalists report that only a few outlaw groups of Elimination officers are still holding a large city on the eastern coast. The Army of Justice will soon break their miserable resistance as the Elimination troops have very little ammo or manpower left at their disposal. This worries me. As soon as the city falls, Guardian will have complete control over the country, and there will be nothing to stop him.

  The journalists also make sure to pay respect to my legend. They briefly tell of my days being incarcerated in an Elimination prison, and the riot I initiated. This is where truth ends and the lie begins. A further report covers several acts of terror I supposedly organized, burning children alive in schools and bedridden patients in hospitals. They describe how I took over the Death Camp and assassinated the leaders of the former government. Right now, I’m apparently leading the Army of Justice eastward to destroy Elimination. I’m said to be a fine example and inspiration for all breakers.

  It takes all my self-control not to smash the TV.

  I turn off the news and sit in silence for a while. Chelsey yawns, closing her eyes in boredom. She used to be stiff and alert in my presence, but now seems very relaxed. After all, I’ve never done anything provocative nor threatened her in any way.

  Maybe I should just scare Chelsey out of her mind, so that she’d be more terrified of me than she is of Guardian? Maybe she’ll confess her lies in this scenario? I decide to give it a try, although I’m not quite sure this is even possible. I’ve never met anybody as intimidating as Guardian, but hopefully my reputation will help. I am much older than Chelsey, having recently turned 19 and look even older.

  “Will you be attending tomorrow’s parade, Chelsey?” I begin.

  She looks up at me sleepily.

  “I don’t know yet,” she answers. “I’m hoping they’ll let me go there with you. I’ll be missing you terribly, if we have to spend the day apart.”

  I sigh. She’s repeating the same old stuff as always. I’m getting really tired with this nonsense.

  “Why do you love me so much, Chelsey?” I ask boldly.

  “Well,” Chelsey utters, momentarily confused. “You’re very nice… and tall,” she pauses, struggling now. “And handsome.”

  Having spoken, Chelsey frowns slightly, probably realizing she’s overdoing it a bit. Considering the fresh scar from the bullet I took in my face, the handsome part is really farfetched.

  “I’m a bad person, Chelsey,” I say. “You’ve heard what they say in the news about me. I’ve killed hundreds of innocent people. What do you think about that?”

  It doesn’t trouble Chelsey for a split second.

  “You’ve done things to liberate mind breakers,” she answers. “You saved all of us. The only people you killed were our enemies, ordinary humans. I admire you a lot and think you’re nothing less than a hero.”

  I look deeply into her eyes, trying to find a speck of truth in them. Is this what she really believes? Sometimes I truly wish I could read her thoughts. But reading thoughts is no more than a silly myth about breakers. Telepathy doesn’t work this way.

  Chelsey smiles from ear to ear.

  “Tell me the truth, Chelsey,” I say. “Are you scared of me?”

  I place my hands around her neck. I have to try and knock her off balance. I need to make Chelsey panic and lose her hero worship attitude.

  “No, why would I be?” she answers. She is still smiling, but I feel her stiffen.

  “I’m a killer, Chelsey,” I say calmly, and I’m not lying. “You know that.”

  “I don’t care,” she counters.

  “So how far are you ready to go?” I ask.

  “Just as far as I have to,” Chelsey states.

  I’m not sure what to do next. I hate threatening her, although I feel like I have no choice but push harder. I have to crack Chelsey and find out whether she’s a friend or not.

  “Alright then,” I say. “Let’s see.”

  I grab Chelsey by her shoulders, dragging her forcefully toward the bed. She lets out a surprised sob, but doesn’t dare protest, remaining as passive as a rag doll. I throw her onto the bed and get on top of her, pinning both of her arms down. She becomes silent but doesn’t try to put up any resistance. Kitty would already be clawing, biting and kicking, should anybody risk violating her in such a manner.

  “Aren’t you scared now?” I ask, feeling somewhat silly.

  Come on, I think, show me the real Chelsey. Admit that you hate me.

  “Why would I be?” she repeats.

  I can feel her body shaking from fear. Her eyes are distant and empty now, but her lips are still stretched in the same stubborn grin.

  I give up. She’s much tougher than I thought.

  “Damn it,” I say calmly. “Just stop pretending already. I know everything.”

  This is when her gaze becomes fearful and she stops smiling.

  “Know what?” she asks.

  “You know exactly what,” I say. “You’re pretending to have a crush on me and I’m pretending not to realize that you’re pretending. It’s exhausting, Chelsey. Let’s just quit all that.”

  Chelsey is quiet, staring at me in utter horror now.

  “I can read all your thoughts,” I lie. “You know I’m a telepath. So just stop pretending.”

  She swallows hard and whispers, “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “He’ll simply kill me, if I do.”

  “Is Guardian forcing you to entertain me?”

  She nods.

  “It’s alright,” I say softly, releasing her.

  Chelsey sits on the edge of the bed beside me, adjusting her dress with shaky hands. Large tears stream down her face.

  “I’m sorry,” she mutters. “Please don’t be angry with me. He made me do it. He said he’d tear me into pieces, explode my head if I disobeyed. You know he can really do it. Please, don’t tell anybody that I’ve failed in my job. And please forgive me… I just want to survive.”

  Her voice cracks. Chelsey covers her face, crying silently. Seeing her in so much despair just breaks my heart. At the same time I’m still not sure whether I can trust her.

  “It’s okay, there’s nothing to forgive,” I say, making my voice sound gentle. “I’m not angry with you. And I won’t tell anybody anything.”

  “When… When did you learn that I was pretending?” Chelsey asks.<
br />
  “The first moment I saw you,” I explain.

  “My goodness,” she sobs, turning away. “I feel so stupid.”

  “Chelsey, do they keep your relatives hostage here?” I ask carefully.

  “No,” she says. “I haven’t seen my parents since Elimination captured me. I don’t know where they are. As I told you before.”

  She did, but I couldn’t know what was true or a lie. I remain quiet for a few minutes, thinking everything over one last time. Maybe Chelsey is just putting on another act. But I’m really sick with perceiving everybody as being my enemy. I have to start taking chances at some point.

  “Chelsey, listen to me very carefully,” I say, touching her shoulder. She looks up at me. “You’re a smart girl and must realize I’m a prisoner here too. You and I are in the same boat. Guardian is holding me here against my will, but soon I’ll be getting out of this place. I may be able to take you along with me. It’s very dangerous though, and only you can decide how much risk you’re willing to take. So how far are you willing to go to regain your freedom?”

  Chelsey’s eyes widen. She asks in a conspiratorial whisper, “Have you been able to contact your friends? Are they still alive?”

  “Sorry, but I can’t tell you that,” I answer coldly.

  “I won’t rat you out. I swear I hate Guardian as much as you. So you can trust me.”

  “Just answer my question, Chelsey. Are you in?”

  She hesitates, thinking, then asks, “What will I have to do?”

  “I need to get this thing deactivated by tomorrow,” I answer, pointing at my blocking collar. “You think you can steal the control key?”

  “I’m not sure,” Chelsey says. “I know where they keep the keys, but I’m not allowed to that area. And should they catch me, I’ll be in really big trouble.”

  “Chelsey, I’m getting out of here with or without your help,” I say. “I can’t make this decision for you and I can’t force you to help me. But you should really think about what Guardian and his people have done to you and all the other prisoners. Do you want to be free or remain somebody’s amusement? Just think about it.”