Chapter 1 – Chris Stein Fiddling with the fingers of my glove didn’t help distract me from the constant irritation. Ever since the surgery, the area around the drive on my wrist kept itching. My parents wanted me to undergo the operation after graduation, but I, like every other teenager, couldn’t wait for something so awesome. Unlike most other teenagers, I didn’t get something lame like a car. My dad paid Vinny—the shop owner who sells drivers in Pine Bluff, our town—for one of the best driver systems on the market to be installed into my body. The only thing that kept me from being completely ecstatic was that for some reason, they wouldn’t buy me a driver too. I mean, what’s the point of having a driver system installed without having any drivers? In truth, I don’t remember much of the operation. Vinny told me to lie on a table, and he gave me an impressively effective anesthetic. After waking up, the drive—the slot the driver would plug into—was installed in my wrist, but even with that amazing technology, I hardly felt different at all. That was when I ignored the paralysis in my hand and mild throbbing in my wrist that my parents assured me would go away in a few weeks or so, anyway. School had been tough the first month. Hiding my existence as a Cell—those of us who have driver systems installed run the Republican Party and are called Cells; most people in the world don’t know we exist—was more obnoxious than writing a research paper for Mr. Dyem. Not to mention, my hand constantly throbbed, and I had to make excuses as to why I always wore a glove on my right hand, long sleeves, or some thick wristband to cover up the drive. Finally, my hand got used to the metal of the drive, and I began to regain movement in my hand. It was about that time when my classmates and I were given permission to go see The Retributions—we had worked hard on a fundraiser for the school, and seeing that new movie in theaters was our reward. The movie was great, and those of you who haven’t gotten the chance should go see it. It even managed to pull my attention away from my wrist and the driver system for a few hours. On the road back to Pine Bluff, however, I fell quickly back into my thoughts, ignoring the constant bickering between Ally and Rajon. As a side note, Ally’s full name is Allymon, making her and Rajon a pair with the weirdest names. Who names their kids that, anyway? “Ally,” Mr. Dyem said, “I hardly think that Rajon’s opinion on the direction your feet point merits you hitting him. Would either of you mind leaving the other alone for the rest of the drive?” “I ain’t hit him,” Ally protested, smacking Rajon in the back of the head while saying it. I looked out the window, trying to hide my smile at their argument when five police cars and two military Humvees passed, driving at an alarming rate. After they had driven out of sight, the group looked around at each other in awe. “Wonder what that was about,” Rajon said. “You don’t usually see military Humvees doing ninety on the highway,” replied Zach. “Shouldn’t the radio have something on it?” “Who cares? It doesn’t have to do with us, so why bother with it?” I asked, poking at the drive in my wrist. “If it concerned us, they would’ve pulled us over.” “Why you always gotta say something smart?!” Rajon said, putting way too much emotion into his voice. “Hold that thought, Chris. There’s somebody in the middle of the road,” said a surprised Mr. Dyem. As he pulled to a stop, the man began to walk towards the van. “Excuse me, but would you mind moving?” asked Mr. Dyem. The man remained unresponsive but was now within reach of the driver’s side door. “Excuse me—” Mr. Dyem started, but before he had a chance to finish the sentence, the light around the van started to bend, and the air in the back of the van where I sat grew cold. I heard Rajon swear as a wall of heat and light split apart the front of the van across the driver’s and front passenger’s seats, cutting Mr. Dyem in half. Chapter 2 – Allymon West Screams broke out in the van, and we rushed up to see about Mr. Dyem. I’m not sure if the bloody mess of my teacher or the sight of the destroyed van was more crazy. As I was about to call the police, a voice came from the window, saying, “I’m sorry you had to be scared like this, but you kids are the only ones we need alive in this place. I’m certain that each of you will be joining him soon, but first, I need a little favor,” said Mr. Dyem’s murderer. “I need for you all to give me your cell phones.” We all looked around at each other. This was the man that murdered our teacher. His black hair and smile made him look like a villain in a horror movie. If he could do that to the van, he’d be able to kill us easy. We reluctantly passed over our phones to the strange man. “Good kids,” he said like we were stupid children. The light around the phones began to bend again, and in an instant, my new phone burnt into ash along with the others. “Now, I should probably offer some warning that you might not be too pleased when you get back. You see, you’re the only Genomes and Cells left from Pine Bluff. All of your families are dead. That way, your stories will be much more believable when you head to your factions’ leaders.
|