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Invasion Survivor: First Contact Young Adult Adventure (Golden Aura Book 1)

Page 4

by H. J. Lawson


  I pause for a moment to check that I’m heading in the right direction. Luckily I am.

  In the silence of the museum, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and see a man staring at me who has the trademark of the infected – blood below his nose.

  All of a sudden, he starts running at me, with the same crazed look as the woman in the street. I sprint away from him.

  “You’re the Seedling!” he screams after me. It doesn’t sound like he’s giving up anytime soon. “I neeeeeed you.” This is the second person to call me a Seedling today and something about it tells me I don’t want to find out what it means.

  I push open a set of doors and enter the China exhibit. Life-size stone warriors line the room, some with weapons gripped in their stone hands. There are more weapons, original ones safely packed away in clear displays.

  “Seedling …” the man mocks as he enters the exhibit. I crouch down behind one of the displays; ironically, it’s one filled with weapons. “Come out, come out where ever you are …” he laughs. “They will free me when I give them you …” His eerie voice echoes around the room, making it sound like there are more than one of him in here.

  I scan the room; there must be something in here I can use. That’s when my eyes stop on a beautiful shiny silver samurai sword unboxed and mounted on the wall.

  The only way I can get to it is by revealing myself. I will have to climb up on the other displays. You can do it, I think, like I’m trying to prepare for a race at school. Do I first climb slowly, so he doesn’t see me, and then go fast? Or should I just go fast? Either way he’s going to see me under the bright display lights.

  I leap up and grab the top of the glass box, pulling myself upright. He grabs ahold of my swinging leg, pulling me down on to the floor. He’s smiling at me with eyes that are blood red, and he looks hungry.

  I’m not going to be his meal. I kick him between his legs and jump, gripping the edge of the box again. Pulling my body up, I get my prize samurai sword off the wall. There is a thud as he lands on the box behind me; it’s easier for him to climb as he’s twice my size.

  Without thinking, I swing at him. He must not be thinking either, because he reaches out his hand to grab the sword and I slice right through his fingers.

  He screams in pain, but it doesn’t slow him down. I swing again, slicing his cheek and then across his neck, making blood squirt everywhere. He wraps his hands around the open wound, trying and failing to stem the bleed. He staggers back and tumbles off the box onto the ground.

  I take the chance and sprint out of the room. I don’t stop running until I rush through the staff office door.

  I make it out of the museum without any more incidents with the crazy man. It seems that was some sort of stage of the virus. The first one is becoming zombie-like, then the second is becoming a lunatic. I think about how Willow is now surrounded by them.

  If they turn crazy, why would they bring them to Fort Hamilton? Just another question that’s probably not going to be answered for quite a long time. I find the bike rack and try all the keys on the bike I find there.

  Luckily, this isn’t as difficult as hotwiring the car. I’m able to unlock it after a few attempts. But I wonder if it’ll be as difficult as driving the car, since I’ve never driven a bike before, either.

  I take time to look at the bike and think about all the times I’ve seen other people ride one. Using these memories, I put together in my head the best way to attempt riding the bike. I get on and start forward, nearly flying off. I grip the handles tighter and keep going.

  Going straight isn’t a problem. The problem is all the cars that lie ahead of me that I know are going to make it hard for me to ride. So, I get off the street and cut through Central Park. The empty lanes give me more of a chance to practice riding the bike. I get more comfortable on it and take a turn. I nearly fall off when I see joggers running in a line with blood coming out of their noses. They are just following their normal rituals, completely oblivious to the fact they are infected and running around bodies on the ground.

  I swerve around them, and the action gets their attention. Some change their direction and come running towards me.

  I don’t think so. I turn the throttle and get the hell out of Central Park.

  I need to get to the bridge that takes me to Brooklyn. Thankfully the practice in the park gives me the confidence to weave through the cars on the street so I can get to where I need to be faster. I drive on the sidewalk to try to make things easier, although there are people everywhere trying to run home or others just standing frozen, staring out into space.

  As I approach the bridge, I see cars all lined up. I also see a ton of people walking. Unfortunately, they also start to notice me on my bike, the only mode of real transportation. People that have noticed start to come towards me. This isn’t good at all.

  I reach for the sword in my backpack, the one I used on the crazy man before, and I lose some balance on my bike. It doesn’t seem likely that I’ll be able to use the sword to protect myself while riding through all these people.

  All of a sudden I hear screaming, and everyone coming for me looks towards the source. I look also and see why all the commotion has started. In the air, a plane is headed straight for the bridge filled with people.

  In a burst, everyone starts running away from the oncoming plane. One man reaches for my arm, tilting me off the bike. I lunge at him with my sword and he takes the hint to back away, joining the pack of people running for their lives.

  The quick movement I made going for the man wasn’t a good idea. I’m thrown off balance and land on the ground with the bike on top of me as the plane quickly bears down on the bridge.

  Chapter Ten

  I groan, feeling pain in my lower back. It definitely has been a rough day on my body, but there’s no time to lick my wounds. I need to survive so I can get to Willow and try to solve this whole mess. With thoughts of her and my mother, I wiggle free from underneath the bike. As I get to my knees, I hear the loud whoosh of the plane.

  Looking up, I see how close I am to the crashing plane. I see the faces of each passenger, the realization of their impending deaths, and the horror of it all. Horror that reflects my own while I watch them helplessly. In one of the windows I see a five-year-old girl who resembles Willow a bit when she was her age. Her mom is holding on to her tight, probably telling her she loves her and everything will be okay.

  The shaking bridge pulls my attention away from the little girl. I need to take action. I grab on to the trembling concrete. I have two choices: either jump into the river or hold on. No matter what, the plane is crashing, so my decision is imperative. If I get thrown by the bridge, the fall into the river will likely kill me. Although, I already see people jumping into the river. They probably assume since it’s water they’ll be okay. Or maybe they know they’re going to die and would rather have a hand in it.

  I take my chances and stay on the bridge while the plane crashes right into the middle of it, the bridge vibrates like an earthquake has hit the bridge. Then the plane falls straight into the river with a thunderous sound. All those people inside sink with the aircraft as the water quickly starts to swallow it whole. It disappears into the never-ending river, only leaving ripples as any sign there was anything ever there.

  I look back at the city, the Big Apple, in the middle of all this chaos. People scream, buildings fall, and fear suffocates the atmosphere. It would take me forever to try to get through it, plus everyone will desperate for my bike since their cars aren’t getting them anywhere. They certainly aren’t going over the bridge.

  I look forward and see the huge space between the two halves of the bridge. It has to be about two school bus lengths wide. The empty space doesn’t seem impossible to jump, but it isn’t exactly the most inviting obstacle.

  Quickly, I come up with calculations to see what exactly it would take to make the daring jump. With the right speed, and if I’m able to yank the handles hard en
ough, I should be able to make it. I take one more look back at the falling city and decide it’s time to continue my mission.

  After a deep breath, I face the jump with my bike. There’s enough distance to gain the speed and at this point there’s no going back. I ride the bike forward, picking up speed as fast as I can. I get to the gap and immediately pull up on the handles, gaining air as I fly over the water below.

  A small voice in my head whispers that I’m not going to make it. It’s not hard for me to believe. But, the second half of the bridge quickly approaches, and before I know it, my front wheel hits the crumbling pavement. I jerk forward and then get pulled back by part of the wheel that gets caught on the broken parts of the bridge.

  Without hesitation, I leap off the bike and try to catch my breath. “Holy crap, I did it,” I tell myself. I lean over and then bolt back up with my hands over my head. The bike catches my eye; it’s dangling over the water. The last thing I need right now is to lose it; there’s no way I could get to Willow without it.

  I sprint to the bike quickly and pull it up beside me on the bridge. After I drag it to a point where I know it won’t fall off, I collapse.

  Lying on the ground, I rest for a few minutes. In such a short amount of time, so much has fallen on my shoulders. I have always been used to security and being protected by others, now it’s all on me. And it’s not just my own survival at stake, but the survival of my sister and my mom.

  Survival. That’s what all of this is about and it’s the only thing that matters. Slowly, I stand and pull up the bike. After my huge leap of faith, my confidence in riding the bike has risen. I mean, if I can leap between two halves of a bridge, I think I can handle this thing on the highway. I get on the bike and make my way toward solid land.

  I get about ten minutes from the bridge when I hear the bike start to splutter. When I first got ahold of the bike, I didn’t think much about the gas part of it. Now, I think I’m paying the price because that certainly doesn’t sound like a bike filled with gas. Good thing I’m in Long Island where there’s gas for sale on every street corner. It won’t be long until I come across the first station.

  One comes up ahead of me, and I immediately make my way to it.

  There are cars packed around the pumps, but I don’t see any people. Slowly, I approach the station and find that all the cars are abandoned.

  Something must have happened here, though. There are cell phones on the ground and wallets thrown. The people must have saw something and decided to make a break for it. I don’t blame them at all, the way this virus seems to work … all I want to do is run away, too. Although, right now, my concern isn’t the virus. It’s the healthy people who are going to want my bike.

  There’s an empty spot near a pump, and I head over with the bike and my bank card ready. For some crazy reason I think that even when it’s the end of the world, someone will still want to take my money. Lo and behold, the card does work. Interesting how even in the scariest of times, establishments will still take your money. Funny world.

  I start to fill up the bike, making sure I’m still alert of my surroundings. I’m not used to having to be on guard so much, but I’m quickly getting used to it. Through all of this, I’m seeing the lengths people will go to survive. I don’t blame them. I’m willing to do a whole lot to survive and get to my family.

  “That’s a nice sword you have there.”

  A deep voice speaks behind me. I spin around and find a large, grinning man. Something about his grin sends chills down my spine. Already I had a feeling our interaction wasn’t going to go well.

  “I really like that bike, too. Must be nice to have during scary times.”

  I think about how long it would take me to pull out my sword he likes so much. He starts to approach slowly, leaning favorably on his right leg. Which means his left is weak. That’s going to be my target.

  Swiftly, I kick at his left leg and as I hear him scream, I swing my sword at him. He starts to swing his arms in a way to protect himself which doesn’t do much against my sword. I connect with his arm and give him a nasty wound that’s not going to heal anytime soon. He takes a step back, examining the cut.

  “My bike and my sword. Get your own!” I yell at him. I have no time for this. There’s no way I can fight him off while riding the bike. I’ll have to get him out of the way before escaping. At least he isn’t infected, which is one less worry.

  While he’s still in shock from his wound, I take the opportunity to slash my sword at him. He raises his hands which doesn’t do much to help protect him. I do it again and again until he’s pleading for his life on his knees.

  I know he isn’t going to come after me anymore, so I run to my bike. Revving the engine, I ride away.

  I think about the cuts he now has because of me. If he doesn’t manage to stop the bleeding, he’ll end up dying and it’ll be completely on me. His blood will literally be on my hands.

  Stopping the bike, I rummage through my backpack and pull out a t-shirt. This should be enough to help stop the bleeding. Without hesitation, I turn the bike around and ride back to the gas station. The man is still there on the ground, trying to stop the bleeding. The sight of him pulls at my heart, and I start to feel guilty for what I’ve done. But, then again, people are willing to do crazy things to survive.

  “Use this to stop the blood.” I toss him the shirt and turn to leave.

  “Why’d you come back?” he whimpers.

  “I don’t want your blood on my hands.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The wind hits me when I slow down once I see Fort Hamilton come into view. Outside of the base, guards are lined up with their guns ready for attack. Also, they are covered in protective clothing to keep the virus away. At least they’re safe.

  I didn’t really think about getting onto the base. The whole objective was to just get here in one piece. There was no time to think about what I was actually going to do once I got here. I have no other choice but to drive up and see what happens.

  I slow down once I approach the guards who stop me immediately.

  “Turn off your engine and slowly get off your bike. Lower your backpack to the ground,” a guard says.

  I do as instructed.

  “What’s your business here?” he asks, not in the friendliest tone.

  “My sister is in there.”

  “Over there.” He points to a person sitting in a box.

  I go to pick up my bag.

  “Leave it.”

  Damnit. I really should have thought this through and stored a weapon on me or something.

  “Name. Of her and you. ID also.”

  I give him my ID and tell him Willow’s full name. He types it into his computer, and I hear the dings of random pop-ups.

  “Do you have the virus?” No time for small talk I suppose.

  “No.”

  He holds a white scanner at me, and a red beam travels over my body. Then he looks at the computer, then back at me, and then the computer. I start to nibble on my fingernails, which is totally not like me and stop.

  “So, have I got it?”

  “No. But if you proceed onto the base, you will be exposed to it. Probably will even get it.”

  “It’s worth it to find my sister.”

  “Figured you’d say that. Like your older sister.”

  Brooke?

  “Is my older sister still here?”

  “No, she left with the others.”

  “What about Willow?”

  “She’s still here.”

  Thank god. “I’m ready to go in.” The guard nods and places a red and black bracelet on my wrist. “What is this for?”

  “To know what side of the camp to go on.”

  They already have a color-coded system to distinguish healthy from unhealthy. There’s no way they didn’t know this was happening.

  “Can you look after my bike?

  “Yes.”

  A heavier set guard takes me to a room on
the left. Inside I see it’s filled with all the kids infected from my school. They’re packed together like sardines or lab rats. Other kids are also there that I don’t recognize, more victims of this never-ending virus.

  I feel like I’m being watched so I turn and find AJ’s eyes staring at me. My heart flutters as I watch him look at me. He doesn’t look as sick as everyone else in the room … he’s even smiling at me. I’m ashamed to say still makes me blush, even though the world is basically ending. Hormones.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, approaching him. He keeps staring at me blankly and smiling. “AJ?”

  He doesn’t say anything and keeps smiling. “AJ, have you seen Willow?”

  He barely even knows who I am, why would he know who my little sister is?

  “My sister, Willow, have you seen her?”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see a small head turn. Instantly, I look and see Willow smiling at me … much the same way AJ is still smiling. This could be some stage of the virus. Doesn’t matter; I make a beeline right for my little sister. There are no words that could express how happy I am to finally have her in front of me.

  I hug her tightly and she impatiently tries to end it. “Paige! Guess what! I’m glowing gold.”

  Fear builds as I think my sister has entered some delusional state of the virus. But, she looks normal. It’s just the things she’s saying make no sense.

  “Brooke brought these and says we have to wear them, to keep them away. Hurry, put it on.” She hands me a bracelet with golden honey gems in it. Nervously she looks around and then looks at me, impatient.

  I slip it on, and the tension washes away from my little sister.

  “Willow … what are you talking about?”

  “Watch.” Her smile broadens and she takes off her own bracelet. All of a sudden, a golden aura appears around her. Her skin is sparkling like gold glitter and she’s never looked happier. Everything about her is shining at me, and I’ve never felt so scared in my life. She quickly slips the bracelet back on and returns to looking like my little sister. What is happening?

 

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