by D. S Mac
D.S Mac
Fractured
Fracpocalypse
Copyright © 2021 by D.S Mac
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
D.S Mac asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
D.S Mac has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
First edition
Cover art by Millie McGuffie
Editing by Pauline Nolet
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Contents
Foreword
Prologue – Fracture
Chapter 1 – Shift
Chapter 2 – Allies
Chapter 3 – Hell
Chapter 4 – Future
Chapter 5 – End
Chapter 6 – Screamers
Chapter 7– Fear
Chapter 8 – Stranger
Chapter 9 - Guide
Chapter 10 - Storm
Chapter 11 - Hope
Chapter 12 - Trap
Chapter 13 - Ambush
Chapter 14 - Detective
Chapter 15 - Driver
Chapter 16 - Saviour
Chapter 17 - Freeze
Chapter 18 - Traitor
Chapter 19 - Stitches
Chapter 20 - Split
Chapter 21 - Butcher
Chapter 22 - Years
Chapter 23 - Plan
Chapter 24 - Collapse
Chapter 25 - Pet
Chapter 26 - Malice
Chapter 27 - Hero
Chapter 28 - Regroup
Chapter 29 - Chief
Chapter 30 - Family
Chapter 31 - Forrest Futures
Chapter 32 -Face off
Chapter 33 - Sub Level
Chapter 34 - Negative Fracture
Chapter 35 - Humanity
Chapter 36 - Fracpocalypse
Chapter 37 - Warzone
Chapter 38 - Loss
Chapter 39 - Emergence
Chapter 40 - Reset
Chapter 41 - Life
Chapter 42 - Devastation
Chapter 43 - Return
Chapter 44 - Ressurection
Chapter 45 - Preparation
Chapter 46 - Showdown
Epilogue - Destiny
About the Author
Foreword
Thank you to everyone that has decided to take the time to read my first novel.
I really do hope you enjoy it.
Your reviews on platforms such as Amazon and Goodreads would be highly appreciated and highly regarded.
Prologue – Fracture
“Are systems ready, Dr McCarthy?”
“Aye, Dr Forrest, the antimatter chamber is primed and sealed; proton pulser is within parameters; the containment field is at 100%,” replied Dr McCarthy. He had run the readings several times over. When it came down to what they were doing, mistakes could not happen, not this time.
Dr Forrest checked over the final readings on his computer screen array, noting that all systems were running exactly as they should be.
“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this. Years of hard work are about to pay off, McCarthy.”
He walked over to the antimatter chamber’s viewing window, slid his silver-framed glasses down his nose, and prayed that this would finally be the breakthrough he needed. This entire unit was a week away from having its funding cut after eight years of pioneering research.
They’d already had several failed experiments over the years because nothing could sustain the power needed to hold the antimatter long enough. However, the readings they got and lessons they learned had all led up to this moment—the culminating test.
“Today we make history.” With a beaming smile, he turned to McCarthy. “Initiate protocol nine, Doctor.”
This was it, the future of renewable energy at their fingertips, years of hard work all boiled down to this last run. The countless failed experiments were all a learning curve.
Their latest simulations had run flawlessly, with the correct range of protons pulsing against the antimatter. They would create an energy source for the future. To contain the source and the antimatter, they needed to charge the particles using protons to a specific measurement; this would then be secure in the highly technical Penning trap. This was a device that used electric and magnetic fields concurrently.
In most of their failed attempts, the Penning trap had collapsed, causing overloads of every system, burning out the proton pulser, which alone cost hundreds of thousands to repair. Unfortunately, their failings were why the board wanted to shut down the entire operation. Forrest and McCarthy argued throughout several meetings, putting across the point that the results were promising; the outcome could save billions. Although they’d accidentally shut the local power grid down last time, they were given the funding for one last chance.
“Initiating protocol nine,” came Dr McCarthy’s voice through the intercom. He had retreated into the main chamber for an added layer of security. Along with the central connected lab, teams of scientific engineers had built the antimatter chamber within several inches of solid steel followed by several inches of concrete. Not that they expected anything to go wrong. The worst that had ever happened was a complete malfunction and shutdown of systems. Five computers and the proton pulser itself had fried their circuits. Dr McCarthy had devoted his life to this project as much as he had toward Dr Forrest; he’d followed the man’s success as he was going through university. He’d always dreamed of being as brilliant. His life had changed when he’d had a breakthrough discovery that led to improving the Penning trap exponentially. They’d previously utilised an inhomogeneous quadrupole electric field; he could stabilise a dual quadrupole field, drastically increasing the Penning trap’s ability to stabilise subatomic particles. None other than Dr Forrest had heard and hired him with immediate effect.
“Proton pulsing has reached 45%… 50%… 70%. Wait, that’s not right.” Dr McCarthy noticed the containment field electromagnetism dropping fast. “Dr Forrest, we need to abort this. The protons are pulsing at over 200%. The Penning trap is failing. We’ve never even accounted for these levels.” Pulling out his pen and notepad, he frantically scribbled notes. “The field will crash. It’s not sustaining.” He slammed his pen down. “I don’t understand!”
“No! This is our last chance. We have to proceed. The field will hold!” Dr Forrest shouted back, and he ran to the computers on the other side of the circular white chamber to see the readings for himself. He quickly tapped in code to stabilise the trap. Protons were blasting the antimatter at a rate no
t visible to the human eye, but that was when it all changed. The containment field, ordinarily invisible, could be seen, straining against the power, waves of energy like heat bouncing off a hot car on an exceptionally warm day. Blue tendrils of light splintered across the antimatter like lightning, increasing in frequency.
“Shit, we have never seen this. I’m shutting it down,” McCarthy said as he started inputting codes for the kill switch. A flash of pure blue light filled the laboratories, blinding Dr Forrest and Dr McCarthy. “We have to end this.” His shout was barely discernible over the resounding machine whirring. As he entered the final code, the machine’s noise mixed with the screeching alarms became deafening, tearing through their heads like a pounding migraine. Dr McCarthy covered his ears and pushed enter with such force the plastic key shot out of the keyboard and slid across the desk, disappearing into the tangle of cables.
Nothing happened! Blue lightning quickly morphed into a dark red shade colliding with the antimatter. Air was sucked dry from the room, Dr Forrest’s ears popped from the pressure, lightning struck thousands of times per second, and the antimatter opened up into a pure black swirling mess. The containment field imploded, sending a shock wave through Dr Forrest, knocking him on to his arse. He was speechless. He had never seen such beauty nor power. No matter what he tried, he could not avert his gaze. He heard nothing and saw nothing but the horror, the beauty that was right before him. At that moment, he knew nothing, he was no one, and there was nothing else but the mass.
Bolts of red lightning shot through the room, ricocheting from every surface, leaving scorch marks across the whitewashed walls. It destroyed lab equipment, computers, his life’s work. But nothing seemed to matter. In an instant, the light stopped the room around him, and the black mass groaned at such a high pitch it burst blood vessels in his ears. Blood ran down his clean-shaven face, dripping onto his lab coat. Then everything turned quiet, like a state of pure serenity.
Dr McCarthy, frantic with horror and worry, tried to get the bunker door open to retrieve Dr Forrest. Everything was quiet. He knew there was a catastrophic problem. The lightning had ceased, and the black mass instantly popped out of existence, leaving a fracture in the air itself. Its edges glowing red and blue, it was almost mesmerising. Dr McCarthy snapped himself out of staring when something completely unpredictable happened.
With the most deafening crunch followed by a sharp bang and an instant vacuum, the room occupied by Dr Forrest, its contents, and the doctor himself vanished. The only things left standing were the walls themselves and the fracture.
Chapter 1 – Shift
Drake’s hand throbbed with light, sending waves of neon colour up his arm. Blue tendrils snaking to his elbow in veiny streaks pulsing and waving, they lit up the area around him. His toned arm lay limp off the side of the bed, fingers dangling inches above the floor, casting pulses of light, causing shadows to dance over the worn hardwood floor. Drake groaned and rolled over, slightly opening his eyes.
“Shit! Not again,” he mumbled.
He threw his legs off the side and staggered up, rubbing his tired, worn green eyes, and limped over to the B&B bathroom. White porcelain tiles cracked in several places covered an entire wall over the rusted, well-used bathtub. Cheap piss-stained lino flooring from the 1980s was peeling around the toilet. The light from his arm became a steady, even glow. He looked at himself in the mirror and ran a hand through his messy short chestnut hair. He reached down for the cold tap and splashed his face from the cascade of cool water, and brushed his hair over with his fingers.
His tired eyes spoke volumes of the trials he’d been through. How could he have ever comprehended that a simple recon job would change his life wholly and forever impossibly? He wiped his face on the unbranded white B&B hand towel.
“Where the fuck am I going to end up this time?” Drake said to himself as he exited the bathroom.
A thin streak of sunlight shone through a small gap in the beige blackout curtains. Millions of particles of visible dust danced around in the streak. Drake yanked the curtains open, sending the particles into a crazed last dance as the sunlight burst into the box room, revealing a messy slept-in divan. Black stretch denim jeans, a grey shirt and a black hoodie were dumped in a pile on the floor, beside the bedside cabinet on which lay a holster containing a Glock 18 handgun and a beaten brown leather wallet.
The glow of Drake’s arm changed shade, starting at the tip of his hand; a red gradient slithered to his elbow. He stared at it for what felt like forever, knowing that he would never get used to it. After releasing a sigh, he got dressed. With his arm almost becoming a full shade of dark blood red, he attached his holster, pocketed his wallet and closed his eyes. “Here we go,” he grunted as his arm hit a full red hue. His body became charged with static; electricity tingled over every nerve ending. He wondered if this was all there was for him now, his life dramatically changing every day, never able to settle down, find a wife or kids, and live as a human should.
His sight went dark even though his eyes were open. The static charge his body took on waltzed over every inch of his skin. His body felt like it was being dissected and pieced back together over and over. Strong electrical currents impacted his organs, and deep in his skull, bolts of white and blue light sparked all around his vision as he felt himself being vacuumed in waves.
He found himself on his hands and knees as he opened his eyes. His clouded vision slowly came back into focus. His arm was the usual dull untanned pink colour again. He pushed himself up to his feet, placing a hand on the nearest object to assist him.
Voices murmured in the back of his mind.
“Is he ok?”
“Should we call someone?”
“Did you see that light?”
“Sir…”
“Sir.”
Drake’s mind snapped back.
“Sir, are you ok?” asked a young woman.
“Ugh, yeah, I’m fine, love. Wh… where am I?” replied Drake as he looked up to her. She was an attractive twenty-something, blonde hair, bright blue eyes that were filled with kindness.
“You’re in London. Are you sure you’re alright? Can I call someone?” she asked as she laid a hand on Drake’s shoulder. A loud bang rumbled through the crowd that had gathered. The street was bustling with movement, people running everywhere and screaming. The young woman’s eyes went wide. She choked on her breath, and blood ran out from the corner of her mouth. She collapsed hard to her knees; the momentum then sent her top half towards the ground. Her face, lifeless, bounced off the concrete with a crack. The bag she had clutched under one arm dropped, sending her purse, phone and an assortment of make-up items clattering across the ground.
“Shit!” Drake cursed. He launched himself over her body and bolted back up the road. People were still in a blind panic, running and trampling over one another. Drake spotted a left turning and made a beeline for it. As he changed direction, another loud crack erupted in the street. A bullet flashed by him and buried itself in the chest of a business executive. He instantly met the pavement with a thud, blood pooling out of his back, soaking his tailored navy blue suit.
Wishing he had kept up with his fitness for a bit after leaving the army, he willed his legs to keep going, and took turn after turn, avoiding terrified people running in every direction, unknowing of where the danger was. Another loud crack echoed between the rows of high-rises, making Drake turn his head, losing his momentum as he crashed straight into a mother and child. The trio was sent sprawling to the ground. “Love, run. Get out of here.” Tears streamed down their faces. The terror in her eyes had control of her. He latched an arm around the bawling child, took the mother’s hand and veered down the underground car park of fancy lawyers. “Stay here. You’ll be alright.” As he turned to run, she grabbed his arm.
“Th-th-thank you.” She couldn’t help but stutter from the sheer panic. With a nod, Drake carried on and darted out from the car park’s entrance. Crack, crack, two shot
s smashed into the pavement less than a meter in front of him, kicking up chippings of stone.
His heart was beating like a drummer of a rock hit, tension straining his face, pressure building up behind his ears. Adrenaline kicked him into fifth gear, legs carrying him like a cheetah. Pure survival instincts were in full force. Another crack, glass panels burst, sending shards of glass spraying over the pavement. A stampede of people erupted from the shop’s front doors, screaming for their lives. “Get back in! It’s safer. Go.” Drake ushered these innocent people back into the store. Only a handful of them didn’t listen. Crack, crack. Drake dove onto his right shoulder and rolled into the doorway. As he gathered his bearings and looked over, he saw two more people collapsed on the ground, blood painting the cement beneath them.
Drake took another turn, this time to the right, and ploughed straight into a black, tinted-window van. He rolled up the bonnet, crashed into the windscreen and collapsed back on the pavement. At the same time, the van screeched to a stop. Two men jumped out. One held a handgun, searching the crowd in swift ninety-degree movements. He let off two shots in the general direction of the assailant. The other man was holding a tablet of sorts. It was connected to a human-made device with a pulsing red light and an antenna rotating 360 degrees.
“That the guy?” the first man with the gun said. The second guy tapped a few keys on his tablet, which started beeping hysterically.
“His readings are off the chart, plenty of residual energy, so I’d say so,” replied the second man.
“Bloody great! Let’s get him the fuck out of here, then!” grunted the first man as he holstered his weapon and grabbed Drake under the shoulders. The other guy chucked the tablet in the van and hoisted him up by his feet. They got him in the van, slammed the doors and tore away with screeching tyres.
Chapter 2 – Allies
Drake snapped awake and bolted upright. A wave of nausea overcame him, and he placed his head in his hands. He slid both hands across his forehead and back through his hair. He felt a lump the size of a golf ball. It wasn’t the first time Drake had been hit by a car, but it was the first time he came to in a different place. He grunted and attempted to look around. The room was pretty dark. Only a few lamps cast light over the two adjacent corners. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed he was on a hospital-like bed fixed to a poorly concreted floor. The room, or at least what he could see of it, was scarcely furnished. Only a tiny rickety well-used table sat at the other end by the lamp. “Where the fuck am I now?” He groaned while struggling to his feet. Drake staggered across the room and half-collapsed against the table, knocking the lamp off and shattering the bulb.