If I didn’t try and figure everything out, I would be at home reading, instead of at a stockyard in Tulsa. I didn’t have a thing to do, so I just took a bus and wound up in downtown McAlister. I went north, just for the hell of it, and found myself stuck in a drug-bust, in which the cops thought I was a part of. After clearing myself with the cops, I went to the nearest car rental place, and was told I wasn’t old enough to rent, so I just stole the nearest Ford. I drove out onto the road, while trying to eat the McDonalds I had bought just to see the girl in the drive through window. I was going about 40 on a highway and 100 in a 45 mph zone, and the same cop that pulled me over for speeding in the 45 zone is the same one that told me to speed up on the freeway.
“Sir, when I told you to slow down, I didn’t mean to slow down to 30 mph under the speed limit.” He had told me.
“Sir, you do know that it’s not illegal to go slow_” I started to counter before he cut me off.
“Yes, but it is illegal to block traffic, unless you are a trucker,” He said with the upmost snootiness. “Now, I’m going to need to see license and insurance, please.”
At that point, I panicked. If he knew I didn’t actually own this car, I’d be screwed, and if he found out I wasn’t 16 yet, I’d be doubly screwed. I slammed on the gas, not caring what will happen if I get caught, and losing all sense of judgment. I slide down the exit ramp like I’m on ice, and I’m going too fast to make a clean turn, so I decide to fake the cop out, basically driving in the rear-view mirror, eyeing the cop in the reflection. I make the fake, but turn my steering wheel too hard. I slide into the Wal-Mart truck passing by, totaling the Ford, and ruining my day.
In the hospital, the nurse was really nice, and she put me on some stuff that made me feel like I had just danced with Mary Jane. It felt good. If I had some of this at home, my brother, Nick, would have to send me here multiple times to get me treated for overdose. These drugs aren’t unlike the ones we use at home. At the hospital, it’s legal, but at home, it’s not, not at all.
The doctor came in and said some stuff about either monkeys, or amputation, but I was too high to tell. I saw a hooded figure talking to the doctor, shaking his head, and then saying something about a wheelchair. Whatever it was, I wouldn’t like it. I did hear one thing out of the hooded figure; he had Nick’s voice; “Well, there goes Mason’s sports.”
At that time, I sobered up. Sports, what was he talking about my sports being gone? What did they put him on? I had a sudden burst of hyperventilation, and I realize I didn’t have my inhaler. I looked around, and then found it on the nightstand beside me. I took a deep breath, and then started back up on the attack. The doctors put me on more oxygen, and less happy gas. It was then I became sad, and realized how pale I was, and how pale Nick was, and how tan everybody else was.
“Nick,” I said, “Will I have to give up baseball?”
He only looked at me and said; “I don’t know.” He looked sadder than I thought he would and just turned around and left, swinging his long hair with pride. He and I have the same facial features, boney and weird, but different everything else, personality, him cool and laid back, and me hot headed and stubborn, build, me skinny, him muscular, and age. He is three years older than me, but we are maturing at the same rate, for the most part.
The doctor gave me a shot to put me to sleep. I was thinking about Nick, wondering if we were going to see each other again, but something told me he wasn’t going, not yet anyway.
Chapter 2
I awoke with a startle, screaming at the top of my lungs, and clutching the handle to the door of my room. The nurses had to practically throw me down on my room and hold me there until I calmed down. Then, one of them had to sing me to sleep, like my mom did before she died in 9/11, as did my dad when I was only 3 days old; they didn’t even name me. When she left I had been asleep, but my mind was still turning, and I could still hear what was happening. I overheard the nurse speak to Nick; “He is responding well to the treatment,” she said with a bit of an over-optimistic tone; I have to say, for a nurse… she’s cute. “We’re going to have to keep him overnight so we can make sure he isn’t going to wake up in the middle of the night.”
Nick came back, but whoops, I thought, I had better be getting to sleep. Then, I heard something that will haunt me until the day I die.
“You do know this is the last time the police will handle it.” The nurse said. “He is either going to be selected, donated, or sent to jail. Unfortunately, the police say the latter has been removed, and they already have too many donations, so I guess he is going to be selected.”
It would have been better if Nick had at least acted surprised, but he just standed there and said nothing. Then, he told the nurse he had to leave.
I jumped up, tearing past the nurse, through the bodyguards, and outside. I didn’t know where I was going, but I sure as hell wasn’t staying.
I had gotten half way down the road when Nick’s car came up. When I saw it, I shot off so fast; I could have been an Italian sports car, but he caught up, and said:
“Get in the car. I want to talk to you.”
I keep walking, picking up the pace as I went along. He soon caught on, and then just hit me with the car. He then continued to drag me into the car.
“Listen,” he said. “You may be selected for combat, but you won’t be in there for long. We will make a plan. Trust me, Mac. We will. I already have the guys for it.”
Somehow, Nick and a plan don’t seem like two good words to be put in a sentence. One of his “plans” almost got me killed by a dog. They used to be so well domesticated, but then people started treating them bad, and now they don’t cooperate well with people. Nick told me to just go to sleep in the back of the truck, and he would close the window, so no one would see in.
I was in the back of the truck with two sandbags, and some spiders. I had been in the back for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality it had only been 5 minutes, but it was in that 5 minutes I had heard Nick say something to his friend, Cole, and his brother, my best friend, Levi. Levi started bawling, but Cole didn’t do much, based on what I was hearing. Cole didn’t really like me that much, so I didn’t take it personal. Nick told them the extremely tedious plan he had told me, and boy, did he stretch out every single last detail until Cole finally said:
“Okay, if we have this much to do, why don’t we use the two-trailer R.V.?”
“Because the police will be looking for a big party, I don’t want to have too much to hide.” Cole couldn’t argue with that, he insisted on taking the one-trailer instead, and just try to pose as travelers.
We left, and then preceded to my grandparents houses, first my mom’s side, then my dad’s. That went on for another 2 hours, and we seemed to not have any problems with the organization. It was only midnight, and everyone except for me was tired and ready for bed. We had one stop to make, Bob’s Gun and Ammo Shop, and it was there we started to notice something peculiar. Someone was following us, and they weren’t out to play. They here for someone, and it wasn’t me.
Chapter 3
I told Nick about the car following us when we got inside, and he told me that it was just a coincidence, that we had just been going to the same place at the same time, so I blew it off during orders.
“Get your specialty weapon,” Nick said, in a commander like fashion. “Get what is comfortable now, and get a machine from the early days, like during the Dark Age, because you’ll need it, and where were going has no gunpowder.”
No one got what he had meant, so we just did what he told us to do. I bought a good semi-auto two set handgun, with an automatic reload system, and a katana with nun-chucks in the handle. Nick had bought the same gun, and then decided everyone should try it, and if it worked better than what the other’s choices were, everyone would get one, because the guns were only $2000 each. Some of the guns were over one-billion dollars. Talk about death-by-sale, those guns would kill you, your prey, and everyone who was close enough to see the muzzle flash. Everyone got either brass knuckles, nun-chucks, or a sword of some sort. I was given all three, since I would need it. They all eventually checked out, and the guys that were following us were outside in their car. I stopped and look over, and that’s when I saw a gun pointed at Nick. I reached in my pocket for the handgun, fired about 900 rounds, and killed everyone in that car, but I was too late before he had shot Nick. Nick was bleeding pretty badly, and if he didn’t get help soon, he would die. I was upset, because I didn’t know what to do, but my grandma from my mom’s side came over with grandpa and said, with great sympathy and sensitivity:
“It’ll be okay, honey. Go, go forth, and prosper in your brother’s absence.”
I wipe off my tears, and start to walk over to the group when I hear a small, hoarse voice. It was Nick.
“Wait,” he said. “You cannot lead this group without the plan, and here I present it unto you.” And in that, he slipped away. I didn’t even look at the object. I was too busy mourning the fact my only brother, the man that I had spent my 13 years with, was now gone, but the sadness was gone quickly, because if I spent too much time grieving the bullet in my brother’s heart, we wouldn’t accomplish anything. I finished crying, wiped off the tears, and said, “Now, how do we make this work?”
If you need any help or questions, you can message me. Also, there isn't any flaming here, so you don't need to worry about putting "Only constructive criticism" etc. That's what the whole site is based around! 
Gender:
Points: 300
Reviews: 0