The sound of his receding footfalls echoed through the room until the familiar hiss of the hatch slid open.
What did he mean, evolving? Was it unheard of for an infected in Stage Three, of whatever it was they claimed I was contaminated with, to speak?
I began tapping my finger to get the doctor's attention. It worked.
‘You have nothing to worry about,’ he said, which I found preposterous considering he had just told me I was in Stage Three of the same deadly virus that had killed Zoey. And this time there was no mistaking the fear in his voice.
I smacked my knuckles on the table with force.
‘What's wrong with me?’ I forced out of my lips.
How the doctor understood anything I said was miraculous. I couldn't even understand what I was saying. It was all garbled gibberish and noise to my ears, but somehow he understood.
‘Your neck was nearly ripped off entirely in the attack,’ he said. ‘And, the fact you can speak is...scientifically impossible. Your vocal cords aren't even connected any more. There is no way you should be speaking, and yet, you are. I don't understand.’
The hatch hissed open again and the click of heels filled the empty space.
‘What's her status?’ I heard her say.
It was Dr. A. There was no mistaking the voice. My fingers balled into a fist and the heat in my neck permeated to my chest in a ball of flame. She had done this to me!
‘She's stable,’ he said.
‘What about her vitals?’ Dr. A asked.
‘Steady. A few spikes here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary,’ he said.
The heels came closer and I could feel the coldness of her white lab coat billowing the cold air from the hallway towards me. My fist wouldn't budge.
She placed her hand on my forehead. She was ice to the touch.
‘She's burning up,’ she said. ‘When was the last time you checked her temperature?’
‘A few minutes ago,’ he said. ‘A constant 100.7.’
‘Are you sure these readings are correct?’ she asked.
They were both standing to my left. Presumably, they were talking about the vitals on the screen. What? Are they irregular? I asked mockingly inside my head. What did you think they would be? Normal?
‘White blood cell count is abnormally high, but that's to be expected. Any pain?’ Dr. A asked.
‘I've increased her drip to 120mg,’ he said. ‘She can still feel it, but it's more tolerable. But that wouldn't cause...’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘We need to get her to the genetics lab, immediately!’
Something in my stomach jolted my body.
The spasm ricocheted up my abdomen until my entire body rattled. The pain in my neck and thigh disappeared and was replaced by a heat unlike anything I had ever felt before. It worked its way through my blood and into my heart. Soon that muscly tissue pumped it to the rest of my body. My hips yanked against the restraints as they shot to the ceiling. This time I let out a groan.
I could feel my left side again, but I wished I couldn’t. The pain transcending from every inch of it felt like someone ripped each millimeter of skin and bone, poured gasoline on the wounds, and set them ablaze. I began thrashing the moment the pain reached my hand.
‘Hold her down!!’ Dr. A yelled.
I heard something shatter and pour onto the ground as my left arm came free of its restraints and sent the doctor sailing through the air. I swiveled my head towards the noise and blinked. The membrane adhered to my lids fell away and I could see.
Just then Dr. A was crawling on her hands and knees towards the exit. My head lurched back into the table with a violent thud as another wave of tearing coursed through my ribcage.
What is happening to me? Is this what Stage Three is like? Or have I skipped it and gone straight to Stage Four?
Something crawled along my neck as the skin regenerated.
‘What did you do to me?’ I hissed as the full mechanics of speech returned.
The doctor's face turned pale white when she saw me ripping my right arm free of the straps. Only my waist and ankles were attached. Her hand reached up the wall and pressed the alarm. The room filled with red floodlights as a siren blared.
Men in black military gear rushed in, followed by a few white coats. The first soldier grabbed my arm to hold me down, but his body went sailing into the door, knocking over one of the doctors. The others dove onto me to hold me down with their weight, but the burning inside me roared to life. Their bodies launched into the ceiling, shattering the florescent lights overhead. Thousands of flashing sparks rained down on me as I tore my body free from the table.
The power resonating within me was incredible. My bare feet touched the cold concrete as I slid off the table. I stepped over the soldiers' bodies in the direction of the doctor. She fumbled through the broken vials and containers on the floor and rushed at me.
I didn't feel the needle when it entered my chest. I had my hands wrapped around her throat and lifted her off her feet. Her hands latched around mine, trying to break free. I watched as her face bulged and turned purple. Her eyes were dimming and death was only seconds away.
‘You will pay for what you've done,’ I said.
Then something stabbed me in the neck. I plucked away the silver dart with my free hand and examined it. More darts whistled through the air and jammed into my naked body. I looked down to see my stomach colored with five blue feathers. I stared at the entrance of the chamber to see the two soldiers reloading their guns for another volley.
I took a step in their direction, but stumbled. I smashed into the steel table, losing my grip on the doctor. She tumbled away gasping, with her hands clenched around her neck. She quickly scurried towards the soldiers. I tried to stand again, but my legs felt unnaturally heavy as if granite stones were tied to my thighs. The next lurch in my stomach sent me to the floor, writhing in pain as my limbs regrew. The door hissed as Dr. A escaped and the soldiers sent an array of tranquilizer darts into my spasming body. The world stood still momentarily as the pain echoed through every cell. I could feel the world shifting before my eyes before it all went red. It seems you were wrong, Doctor. Stage Four is not the final stage.
Stage Five—Mutation Complete.
≈ PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! ≈
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≈ Dystopian Team ≈
Join my “Dystopian Team” to receive two free books.
Raifen: The Search for Truth.
Raifen: A Call to Evil.
The first book introduces us to Raifen, a young boy who’s thrust into the battlefield all because of a prophecy. With the Bringer of Death pressed on his destroying the world, Raifen must make a choice: cower in fear or accept his destiny.
The second book continues Raifen’s journey to adulthood while discovering and controlling his newfound power. Along the way Raifen meets new friends, all on their own journey of discovery. Can Raifen and his new allies stand against the storm rising?
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≈ Also by Matthew Thrush ≈
2136 — A Post-Apocalyptic Novel
Raifen: The Search for Truth
Raifen: A Call to Evil
Nemesis: A Science Fiction Anthology
Coming 2017
Amber Skies
Risen
De-ac-ti-vated
Coming 2018
Raifen: A Cry for Hope
The Lion of Judah
The Ugliness Inside
Info on all my books: www.matthewthrush.com
≈ Copyright ≈
2136
— A Post-Apocalyptic Novel
Copyright © 2017 by Matthew Thrush
Editing by Joanne Gledhill
Book design by Maduranga
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.
www.matthewthrush.com
≈ Acknowledgments ≈
Before I list the many people who deserve my thanks, I first want to thank God for His gracious love and always looking out for me. He is always faithful, loving, kind, just, and keeps His promises. I’ve gone through some rough patches in my life and suffered from depression and anxiety for many years, but God and my family were always there to encourage me, help me through, and to press on. I could not have done this without the gifts God has given me and His faithfulness in guiding me to the finish line. This is only the beginning of a fun and rewarding chapter in my life. I’m glad to have you all along for the ride. If you’re suffering, have doubts, need help, or feel as though you’re all alone, you can trust God. All you have to do is cry out to Him. He’s just waiting to shower you with all the love He’s always had for you. You can trust Him, my life is living proof of that. And I love you, too. We’re all in this together.
I’d also like to thank the following individuals for their wonderful support and enthusiasm while I wrote this novel, and with the book launch.
Adam French, Adam Whiten, Alex Morris, Allie Kretsinger, Andrew Robertson, Anna Hagen, Apasala Benoit, Ariel Greene, Bianca Polk, Brandon Twite, Brenda Hughes, Brett Sutton, Caleb Thrush, Carlos Alvarez, Christ Huston, Christopher Mazzanti, Christopher Linton, Cindy Thrush, Larry Thrush, Colin Shannon, Dale Ross, Dan Muey, Danielle Egbert, Darlene Stephens, Debrah French, Decker Derdeyn, Derrick Dedmon, Devon Troeger, Diana Carver, Eduardo Salazar, Eric Zamarripa, Eva Johnson, Garrett Griffith, Gary Coffman, Grace Blair, Greg Pettit, Isa Kukawski, Isaiah Denning, Jason Zimmerman, Jay Harris, Jeanne Beaman, Jeff Wohlrab, Jennifer LaRowe, Jennifer Wilkerson, Jessica Schuetz, John Best, Joseph Obleton, Julie Murphy, Julie Beller, Justice Murphy, Justin Mickle, Justin Lallatin, Kari DeNeal, Katherine Bell, Keith Schulz, Kelli Grand, Kevin Tumlinson, Kristen Falk, Kristy Hutchins, Laura O’Leary, Laurence Simon, Lee Constantine, Lindsey Cruz, Lynda Thrush, Lynnette Weems, Margaret Brown, Mark Shockley, Maryela Grijalba, Matthew Pharis, Matthew Leal, Matthew Dees, Mavi Conner, Meagan Mock, Megan Hailey, Michael Stephens, Jenny Patterson, Nancy Beck, Neil Noffsinger, Nell Levy, Nicholas Miller, Nicki McDonald, Nicole Midkiff, Pam Hutchins, Pamela Coffman, Ranee Perera, Rosie Arcelay, Ross White, Sarah Page, Scott Patterson, Shamia Briscoe, Steven Khaje-Karimeddini, Steven Horowitz, Taira Martin, Taylor Coffman, Tia Martelly, Tim Landrum, Valentin Michel, Whitney Bellow, and Zachary Pullins.
I could not have done this without each of your support. I would also like to give a personal shout out to the amazing Kari DeNeal for all of her selfless and talented help creating cover designs for me with all of my stories that I post. She’s truly gifted and has a heart that’s willing to help.
Laura O’Leary, your assistance with spreading the word of mouth and always there willing to help me whenever there was a contest was amazing. You’re a true friend and all of your efforts only contributed to reaching this goal. I wish more people were like you.
And my parents, you both are astounding. I couldn’t imagine a better mother or father to grow and learn from. You’v both always supported me over the years and never gave up on me. You encouraged me to press onward, to stay true to myself and my dreams, and to believe that with the right attitude and work ethic, you can achieve anything. I love you both.
And lastly, but not least, all of you amazing readers currently reading this new series or those thousands of readers who made this possible by reading, voting, comments, and sharing my story on Wattpad. Because of each of you and your kindness, support, and passion, we were able to make publishing 2136 a reality. I can’t wait to share the sequels with you.
≈ ABOUT THE AUTHOR ≈
When Words Are Not Enough
Matthew Thrush is a Technical Writer by day and a novelist by night. He’s authored over a hundred poetry, short stories, essays, and articles, as well as been published in the Sam Houston State Review.
Aside from his professional career as a copywriter and technical writer, he’s published five fiction novels and has several on the way. His love of writing began with The Lord of the Rings in 5th grade and only escalated from there. He hopes to use his words to change the world one person at a time and remind each person of their true value and purpose in life through Jesus Christ.
He currently lives in Houston, TX with his wife and son and their three dogs and cat.
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