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Chapter 1

Kyle Dean- I Woke Up Here

by: Darsha
I wake up to a throbbing head and nausea. The room around me seems to be spinning until it all blurs and comes back into focus. I am lying sprawled out on the floor of a small cell. Across the room are three kids in dog crates, also sleeping-or dead. Smells of antiseptic and bleach burn my eyes cause pause to my reeling thoughts.

Directly next to me separated by rusting metal bars is a small, thin girl with waist length hair, sprawled out on the floor. She too is sleeping, but her chest rises and falls. Not dead, then.

Someone, a male doctor passes my cell and leans in over one of the dog crates dragging a young girl no more than ten years old out. It's easy to tell by the blood running out of her ears that she is dead.

"Subject twelve, experiment four. Failure." he hums and scribbles on a lip board, "Failure to launch liver enhancement. resulting in death."

A loud slamming noise causes the doctor to turn. "Max, Fredric, what's going one?"

Two large burly men barge in the room drag a boy, about seventeen in to the room and lock in an empty dog crate with swift precision.

"Your experiment went a bit too well Doc," one says, "Six got a bit too strong in the muscle addition area. Pummeled nineteen."

"WHAT IS GOING ON! TELL ME NOW YOU FREAKING CREEPS!" the boy yells from the dog crate, pulling on the bars. The wild look in his eyes makes me the teensiest bit thankful that I am in a cell.

The doctor waves nonchalantly.

"Is he-"


"Bring him in. Guess there's one more we won't sent home."

The men leave and bring in another boy, dragging his limp form across the floor. Beaten, bloody, and limp, I recognize the boy. It's Gus. My best friend. My god, is he dead?

"Gus!" I scream finding the strength in my aching body to move toward the edge of the cell, "Gus! What's going on! What did you do to my best friend!! GUS!"

But no one responds. The doctors don't even look at me. Gus doesn't look at me either. The men just drag him out of the room, not even caring when his head hits one of the dog crates. I sink back to the ground.

Gus....the only person in my school who actually liked me. For me. Not just because of my family's wealth or social status. Most people at school hate me for that. I've never been anything but good to them. I'm not the rich snob they think I am.

I probe my mind to figure out what happened leading up to this moment.


"Gees Kyle Dean how do you carry this...this...boulder ," Gus said handing over my backpack, "I'm so glad I ain't takin' any honors classes."

"It's my parents," I mumble. Gus knows about how they bribed the principal to get me into the freaking classes; he's the only one who doesn't judge me for it. It's not my fault I'm the only heir to the companies-and my parents are willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that heir is in tip top shape.

"Skip that it. I don't want to hear about how your mom made you wear that sailor suit to the first day of kindergarten again. " Gus teases, "Lets go to your place and play some video games. I'm think Mario."

It seemed like a normal day. My overbearing parents, and the stares from my classmates. Gus's addiction to Mario.

We got onto the bus that lead to my house: Gus putting off going home to his dad for as long as he could.

"How's your charity case coming Kyle Dean Macotti?" a girl named Sandra sneered from the seat in front of us. I ignored her and rolled my eyes at Gus who in turn sticks his tongue out at the girl-as much as a middle school move as that is- it did the job, and the prissy brunette turned to face the front her window.

"Don't listen to them," I said, "It's as much as a blow toward me as it is toward you."

"I know man," Gus said. If anything, I'm more of Gus's charity case than he is mine. Out of the whole school, only the kid with the crappiest home life would be friends with "The rich snob", and not because of my family's wealth, but because of our love for peanut butter banana sandwiches. We have stuck it out from my disapproving mom, to his drunken excuse for a father since kindergarten to senior year.

When we got off the bus I vaguely remember the black van pulling up beside us.


What seems like hours later I'm dragged out of the stinking cell and into a dentists chair. I don't fight them.

"This one's docile," a young female doctor states, "Are you sure he's soldier material?"

"Don't matter", says another doctor with a big nose and big glasses, "This one's supposed to be the immune one remember Cal?"

"Whatever Fred- I got the vaccines ready. The ones that aren't legal in the US were harder to get, but I'm sure the government will thank us later."

If I turn my head just right I can read the labels on the syringes. Anthrax. Chicken pox. Small pox. MMR. Yellow Fever. Malaria. Ebola. And so on. The needles go into my arm flawlessly. I'm sure I'll have a butt load of bruises later.


I wake up on a table with masked faces leaning over me. Keeping quiet I listen to them talk, gleaning what I can from what they say.

"The bone marrow transplant went well. I already injected the lymph nodes with serum to make the more active."

"This kid is going to be immune to everything."

"Yeah, but I don't think he's maxihuman material. We're looking for super soldiers not lap dogs."

"Prepare the other subjects and quit mouthing me off Max. We're on a tight schedule. We're testing them tomorrow."

Maxihuman. Immune. Subjects. Bone marrow transplant.

The words swim in my mind. Then everything goes black once again.


I wake up back in my cell, to realize that the girl next to me is wide awake. he blue-grey eyes stare into me.

"Who are you?" she says forcefully. I push my dark hair out of my eyes and match her gaze.

"Kyle Dean Macotti. Who are you?"

'Alaska. Alaska Kopelynn Hood. I'm seventeen years old." She is quite striking.

"I'm eighteen. I take it we don't go to the same school. Or didn't. Were you...tested on...too?"

"Yeah. I think, I don't know. I'm not sure. What is this awful place?"

"I don't know. I just woke up here."

"Dam, " she replies, 'I was hoping you'd know a little more than the rest of us."

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