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Back World After Save as PDF
Chapters (81)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication Page
  4. CONTENTS
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

He’ll be out for a few seconds, just long enough for me to take care of Alpha boy. And when these two come back to their senses, lying helpless on the floor with me towering above them, they’ll get the message loud and clear: I am dominant here. You live or die at my mercy and I say when you fight and when you don’t.

It all sounds good in my head.

Only it doesn’t play out that way.

37

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I’M  ABOUT to grab Alpha when we’re hit by a force so hard I can only describe it as a cannon full of ice pellets pounding into us. The force slams me back against the wall. But unlike a cannon shot, it doesn’t stop.

It takes me a second to realize that it’s a bruising spray of water shooting from a fire hose. So icy and intense, it freezes the air in my lungs.

When it finally stops, I am a battered piece of wet cloth lying limp on the floor.

Rough hands grab my arms, and I’m jerked up and dragged out of the cell. In my strained fight for air, I vaguely notice that men with grim faces also drag out Tattoo and Alpha.

I stagger up so that I’m shuffling beside my captors. It’s better than having my arms pulled out of their sockets. Once it’s clear that I’ll walk without resisting, one of the guys lets go of me and helps the two pulling Tattoo. He’s become conscious and is struggling in fear and confusion.

My guard walks up to Tattoo and slams a punch into his belly while the other two guards hold him still. I cringe in sympathy. After that, we all shuffle down the center hall without resistance.

The guards lead us into a brick passageway with peeling paint, and we pass through a metal door. A faded sign says:

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

The door opens to a narrow stairwell that makes a hollow metallic clang as we walk down. The space below feels industrial, almost factory-like. A lattice of giant water droplets hangs from the ceiling almost to the floor.

As we get closer, I get a better look. There are things curled inside the water droplets.

People.

Naked and curled in fetal positions. Unconscious and suspended in the water.

There’s something familiar and horrifying about them.

I keep expecting to see one sucking his thumb or twitching but none of them are actually doing those things.

“What’s this?” asks a man in the middle of the room, glancing our way. He wears a flannel shirt over jeans and holds a clipboard in his hand. With curly brown hair and hazel eyes, he looks like a college student doing research. I’d assume he’d be an okay guy in any other setting except this one.

“Troublemakers,” says my guard.