Thunder Valley Book 1: Maggie

Chapter 3: Surrender

From the station, it was a short walk to the school. Behind tall stone walls and a looming gate lay Montville High. It was built in the 1800s, but still retained its looming and almost gothic appearance. Classes ran in two sets. Set A was from 10 to 1:30, and Set B was from 2:30 to 4:30. I never minded getting out later than the other schools, it gave me peace on the train ride home.

First it was Mr Sylvester for history. He was a kindly man, shorter and had been teaching since dinosaurs roamed the planet.

"Alright. Pop quiz, how many people died on 9/11, and what effect did that number have on American morale?" His voice was hoarse, must've been smoking all night.

My hand instantly shot into the air. "2,997 deaths, sir, it was the second attack on America by a foreign nation since Pear Harbor, and it pushed America towards war."

There was a brief pause before Sylvester spoke. "That's correct, Miss Defore."

I chuckled. I knew I was smart. But everyone thinks you're smart when you remember things, right?

My next classes where nothing spectacular, just boring lectures and boring assignments. Mrs Meyers assigned us a 14 page geometry packet, Mr Florence was absent, his daughter was giving birth to twins. Mrs Naismith slept the whole class period, giving way to several students leaving.

In light of this, I discovered a strange crystal in my locker, which upon inspection, had a faint rose glow to it. I put it in my bag, and made a note to ask my dad about it.

As I walked out of the building, I quite literally ran face first into a backpack. I stopped walking and looked up, wondering who the heck would stop in the middle of the walkway.

When he turned around, I almost choked. I had run into Wesley Smith. Now, don't get me wrong, he was a gentle asshole, if an oxymoron would have it. Generally quiet, and a grade above me. He turned to look at me and scoffed.

"Nerd."

"Simpleton"

"Four eyes."

"Hitler spawn."

He stared at me. "Am not."

"Yes you are, blonde hair and blue eyes was considered to be the master race."

"But I'm not German"

"Didn't matter. Arians where dominate to Hitler."

"Don't you have to go home and play doctor to your schizophrenic father?"

"It's not schizophrenia."

"Go away, Defore."

I walked away. I couldn't let myself be bothered by a simple minded douchebag that thought cowboy boots and basketball shorts where fashionable. I made my way to the station.

I never realized how much could happen in fifteen minutes. First, it was the man I saw across the street, wearing all black. He followed me down the road, and kept staring at me. In an attempt to lose him, I ducked into a coffee shop.

I quietly explained my situation to a lady in line, and she nodded. She took off her shawl and draped it over my head, and stepped up to the counter, acting calmly. To this day, I will never forgive myself for this lady's death.

Pop!

The last thing I remember that woman saying was that iced coffee was better than hot coffee. I remember turning to see blood pooling out of her mouth. She slumped to the floor and i screamed. The man behind the register stared in horror. Everyone in the shop looked around. I turned and there he was. Standing in the doorway was the man, with his hand raised. Almost as if he willed this lady to die, but that wasn't possible, right?

The man walked into the shop, and although it was almost 75 degrees outside, he brought with him a cold air. He pushed people out of the way and stood in front of me. He stared at me, his pale eyes seeing into my soul. Suddenly, I grew weak and dropped to the floor. The man grabbed my shirt and lifted me up, like a mother cat does to a newborn.

He chuckled and spoke, his voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

"Surrender, whelp."

I managed to pick my head up and say "No, I thought I was going to resist. Damn, thanks for ruining my plans, bruh." Wrong move, Maggie.

The man dropped me, then picked me up and carried me outside. There, a black Yukon XL was waiting. I was tossed into the backseat, where a lady sat with a syringe in her hand.

Before I could speak, she jammed the needle into my neck and I don't remember if I screamed or not. But it felt like someone put a branding iron on my neck, and pressed on it. I could feel a burning warmth flow throughout my body, and I could feel my body shut down.

"If you fight it, it gets worse." The lady spoke soothingly, like she wanted me to die.

The last thing I remember, I heard someone talk about the Compound. Beyond that, I felt like lava was in my veins. I promptly passed out, my body curled in the fetal position.