Tempered Steel

By Janet McNulty

Like steel, an individual’s strength is forged by fire.

Exiled from Dystopia, Dana is forced to wander in the barren wasteland until she chances upon a small settlement. There she meets a man named Sampson who introduces her to a new way of life; one that involves independent achievement. Learning the value of living independently, for the first time Dana is able to decide her own fate and manages to create a new life for herself.

Then Kenny shows up, lost and confused like she was. Unable to leave him in the desert, Dana takes him in, but Kenny misses Dystopia and attempts to bring it there. Soon trouble arises and everything Dana has worked hard to achieve is in peril.

Back home, riots plague Dystopia, resources are more limited, and the resistance is gaining strength fueled by Dana’s courage. Furious at her escape and what she has started, President Klens orders Dana to be found at all costs and puts Colonel Fernau in charge. Obsessed with finding her himself, he will stop at nothing to get revenge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janet McNulty
• Release date: Apr 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301097371

Janet McNulty

I began construction on Legends Lost Amborese ten years ago while in high school. At the time it was merely a few pages of notes in a notebook. I continued working on the story of Amborese while in college in the hope of publishing it. That day came in August 2011 when the book was first printed. Most recently, I have published the second book in Legends Lost: Tesnayr. I keep myself busy writing the third and final novel in the Legends Lost trilogy: Galdin, which will be released in Summer 2013. You can learn more here: www.legendslosttrilogy.com If you prefer something more contemporary try the Mellow Summers Series. Mellow Summers moves to Vermont to start a new life only to discover that she has a acquired a new ability: she can speak to ghosts. Join her as she is pulled from one mystery to another. I have also published in the area of nonfiction: Illogical Nonsense. I had never planned on writing nonfiction, but when I had the chance to write a political commentary book, I took it. I enjoyed it and hope that it is insightful to any who read it. Besides writing I also read, hike, and crochet. Sometimes I just wander around doing nothing at all. Every once in awhile a girl needs a break and these are great past times.

Book preview

Janet McNulty

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents within are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or location is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Tempered Steel

Copyright © 2013 Janet McNulty

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No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For any who have ever had to face adversity.

Contents

Title Page

Praise for Dystopia:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

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About the Author

More by Janet McNulty

Praise for the Dystopia series:

Fast-paced and well-crafted, I can't wait for the next installment!

If you like a fast moving story with a David against Goliath theme, you'll enjoy Dystopia.

I wish there are better words to describe how much I love this book. It’s AWESOME. I love how the storyline glides from the starting to the end and the way the author describes the characters and the settings of the book…The ending was PURE SUSPENSE!

Chapter

One

Officer Burroughs mercilessly eyed the men lined outside against the wall in the center of the Waste Management Plant. A riot broke out at the plant soon after the video aired over all of television showing Dana’s interrogation by Colonel Fernau. Men had attacked the officers, men who were angry, desperate, and seeking vengeance. Some fires still burned. Bodies still littered the area, waiting to be dumped in the incinerator.

Officer Burroughs didn’t care if those waiting for execution instigated the riot or not. He just wanted to make an example. Determined to demonstrate his authority, he had 20 men randomly rounded up.

Officer Burroughs raised his arm as his officers aimed their guns at those sentenced to death. His narrowed eyes focused on each of them. A baritone voice broke the silence. Pausing, Officer Burroughs searched for its source. It came from one of the condemned. He lowered his arm slightly.

Take up the torch.

Lift it high.

Let fear be scorched.

Let Tyranny die.

Officer Burroughs couldn’t believe his ears. The man sang the old song from the foolish rebellion of 125 years ago. A group of people had decided that the individual was better than the collective society. Government forces cut them down easily and destroyed any memory of it.

Idiots, muttered Officer Burroughs. He would enjoy killing them.

His eyes locked with Mad Dog’s. A pleased smile crept across his face. Lock me in the freezer, will you? Officer Burroughs raised his arm again and dropped it.

Fire!

Gunfire echoed around the area as the officers released their terror. The men lined before them dropped to the ground. Pooling blood puddled into a small pond under the bodies.

Satisfied, Officer Burroughs turned around to head back to his office. Colonel Fernau stood behind him. The colonel’s menacing look chilled Officer Burroughs to the core. Something was terribly wrong.

A word with you, said Colonel Fernau, his nose now crooked from where Dana had punched him.

Why, yes, said Officer Burroughs, trepidation in his voice. This way.

Officer Burroughs led Colonel Fernau through the plant and up the stairs to his office. He noticed an unusual number of armed guards, officers whose faces he did not recognize. Sweat formed at the base of his neck.

After you, said Colonel Fernau as Officer Burroughs opened the door to his office.

Once inside, the colonel shut the door, making certain the latch clicked.

Is there something I can do for you, colonel? asked Officer Burroughs as he moved behind the desk.

Colonel Fernau paced the room. I understand that there was a riot yesterday.

Yes, there was, said Officer Burroughs, unsure of where the conversation went.

And you handled it of course.

The instigators were executed this morning, as you well saw.

So I did.

Officer Burroughs noted the way the colonel held his stick. Why all of the extra security?

Just a precaution, Colonel Fernau waved away the question.

Is there anything else? Officer Burroughs asked, tentatively.

Colonel Fernau stopped directly in front of Officer Burroughs, staring him right in the eyes. As I understand it, you were locked in the kitchen freezer for most of last night.

Yes.

How did that happen?

A new worker, Mad Dog, thought it would be funny. He was among those executed.

So he was, said Colonel Fernau, And how did he lock you in there?

He and his friends caught me off-guard, answered Officer Burroughs, more sweat forming on his neck.

Caught you off-guard? Colonel Fernau’s eyes burned into Officer Burroughs. And I suppose the riot caught you off-guard as well.

Officer Burroughs tugged at his collar. Yes, it did.

You’re sweating, Officer Burroughs. Is there something wrong?

No.

You seem nervous.

Do I? Immediately, Officer Burroughs bit his tongue, wishing he hadn’t said that.

Are you aware that Dana Ginary has escaped?

No.

Colonel Fernau arched an eyebrow. But you are, undoubtedly, aware of the video that aired last evening. The one that sheds unfortunate light upon our president and first councilman of the eastern region.

How could I not? It aired on every television within Dystopia.

So it did. Colonel Fernau picked an object up from the desk and examined it. He let it drop to the floor and shatter. Interesting thing about that broadcast.

Interesting, sir? Worry filled Officer Burroughs.

Yes, said Colonel Fernau, it came from your computer terminal.

This news shocked Officer Burroughs. He hadn’t been on his computer since yesterday morning. It couldn’t—

The signal has been traced to here.

But, colonel, I’d never—I didn’t—

Who else has access to this office?

No one, said Officer Burroughs.

And you have the only key?

Yes, but—

Officer Burroughs, I suggest you quit playing games with me.

I didn’t—

Then how do you explain your computer being used to hack the media network and broadcast a video that started riots in both the eastern and western regions?

I can’t. A hacker maybe?

Our encryption codes are nearly impossible to break. It would take a hacker days to wade through them.

But—

"Frankly, Officer Burroughs, I don’t care if your office was broken into and your computer was hacked. You disgust me. An ant has more value than you.

First Councilman Michaels wants the situation contained, and the riot yesterday clearly indicates that you are incapable of handling this place. You’re a disgrace to Dystopia.

Before Officer Burroughs could say anything, Colonel Fernau whacked him with his stick. He leered over the man with a sneer. Officer Burroughs looked at him through a bloody eye.

I will get to the bottom of this, snarled Colonel Fernau, and you and I are going to get to know each other very well.

Colonel Fernau walked to the door and opened it. Take him away.

Officers rushed into the room, placing a bag over Officer Burroughs’ head. Without incident, they dragged him away.

Colonel Fernau noticed a box tucked away in the office. Using his stick, he lifted one of the flaps, revealing a platter of cookies and pastries. Such weakness.

He marched out of the room, boots clicking on the bare floor.

Chapter

Two

The train bounced and jerked as it rolled down the tracks. Dana lay crumpled on the floor amidst bits of hay and dirt. She had cried herself to sleep after George’s death. Images of it played and replayed in her mind. The locket remained clutched tightly in her hand.

Slowly, Dana awoke. She rubbed her eyes and tear-stained face. Sitting up, she peered at the locket. Dana opened it. Inside rested the picture of a woman she had never met, but felt she had known. The woman had strawberry blonde hair and hazel eyes, staring at her with a mixture of sorrow and joy. This was George’s wife.

She’s beautiful, thought Dana.

She snapped the locket shut and put it around her neck

with the computer disk that Sanders had given her, the only remnants of her life in Dystopia. Dana looked out at the barren landscape that whizzed by. She had never been this far beyond the wall. Not knowing how long she had been on the train, Dana decided now was as good a time as any to hop off. She knew that if she remained too long, she would eventually reach the western region of Dystopia. And be arrested, no doubt.

She scooted over to the open car door. Peering out, Dana gauged the train’s speed. The train slowed down some. Must be a switch up ahead. She was familiar enough with trains to know that switches lined the tracks. Each time a train neared one, it had to slow down or risk derailing. The only exceptions were the rails that were built specifically for the high-speed passenger trains.

The squalling wheels told her that it was now or never. Bracing herself for the possibility of death, or worse, Dana leapt from the train car. Weightlessness held her a moment before she crashed into the sandy earth. Tumbling and rolling, the world seemed a blur until she stopped.

Once stilled, Dana lay on the ground as the train continued onward. Her left shoulder throbbed. Knowing she had dislocated it, Dana popped it back in place. Sharp pain seized her body, forcing her to remain slumped over for several minutes. Once it had subsided enough, she stood up and examined her new surroundings while slowly moving her shoulder.

Eternal sand stretched before her. Tiny, green plants that barely stuck out of the ground formed what looked like black specks. Puffs of sand drifted over her feet. Dana noticed a sand devil in the distance as the wind picked up and then died.

She bent down and scooped some of the grit into her hands, allowing it to fall between her fingers. It really is a barren wasteland. Dana remembered the stories she had been told. She had never believed them until now.

Spotting a tower up ahead, Dana walked toward it, hoping that it meant there were people nearby. She walked slowly, surprised at how warm the afternoon sun felt. Back home, the cold season had started. Dana figured things were different here.

Pools of water appeared before her. Desperate for a drink, Dana ran to the first few before she realized they were mirages. Cursing, she wished she would find real sources of water. Her parched throat ached.

After hours of walking, Dana was no nearer to the tower. How far is it? she demanded of the environment around her.

The only reply she received was a couple of whirling dust devils.

Her feet plopped on the ground with harsh thuds. Starting to feel dehydrated, Dana staggered around, trying to keep the tower in view. The sun had dipped low in the sky. Feeling defeated, she sank to the ground as the sky grew increasingly dark.

If Dana thought that the days in the wasteland were too warm, its nights were frigid cold. Exposed, she hugged her knees close to her as she shivered. Dana looked around, but didn’t find anything in the darkness that resembled shelter.

A howl sounded in the distance. Frightened, Dana’s senses jolted to heightened alert. She scanned the expanse, but the moonless