Chaotic Evolution: Inception

By Terra James

Kyla Parker's senior year in high school is turned into a nightmare. Her family and she survive the traumatic chaos of the now changed world, but to continue to be safe they must take shelter in a government operated facility hidden inside the Appalachian Mountains. What's really happening inside this facility? With every answer Kyla uncovers, more questions arise. She makes one shocking discovery that changes her view of the world and herself.

When she meets Ryder Storm, the typical bad boy, they form an unlikely relationship, which is tested by her rapid rise to team leader. More complications arise after the vaccinations are given, because everything isn't as it seems. Can Kyla and Ryder put their relationship aside to complete the task expected of them? Their family and their lives are at risk.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terra James
• Release date: Dec 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310416514

Terra James

Terra James is thirty-five year old married, mother of two beautiful children. Terra is an advocate for autism. She loves to read, write, and blog/journal and has since she was ten years old. She lives in the beautiful mountains of TN where she loves to be, but would also love to live near a beach. She is an avid reader, blogger, cover designer, and loves to write.Her friends and family call her a workaholic, but she loves to stay busy doing what she enjoys.You can find her either spending time with her family, piled up in a chair with her dog-Charlie- reading, at her desk writing, watching movies, or living her life to the fullest.

Book preview

Chaotic Evolution: Inception

By

Terra James

Copyright © 2015 Terra James

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an addition copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events are portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Dedications

I would like to dedicate this book to my dream world, because without it I would have never came up with this idea. Kaelin and Bryson momma loves you to the moon and back. Never give up on your dreams, because they are attainable if you dare to chase them. Jim, your unwavering support has been amazing.

Prologue

Kyla

My family and I have been on this mountainside for days now. We have moved a few agonizing steps an hour, and we are exhausted. My parents are doing their best to keep us safe, but there's very little protection shielding us from the horrendous world we now live in. Everyone's nerves are on edge. Tents are precariously scattered about the narrow trail that edges a cliff face. We can't afford to lose our place in the line. My mother stays there at night while my father moves our tent five steps. Tears of rage fill my eyes when all we can make is five steps up this steep trail a day. It's an overwhelming, beyond stressful situation. We never settle down to rest before twelve at night and have to be up by five a.m. You can visually recognize the exhaustion written on my dad's face from lack of sleep.

My mother, Grace Parker, and my father, William Parker, used to work for the government. Now they dedicate all their time protecting my brother, Landon, and me. Their jobs were secretive as most were in their line of work, but my intuition tells me they have something to do with the androids guarding this mountain.

Biological weapons, or so they think, were launched on our country a little over a year ago causing catastrophic devastation. Although I'm elated none of my immediate family was affected, I am terrified that we won't make it inside this mountainous PATF Facility safely. No one knows what that stands for, but I have a feeling we will find out soon. The unknown lies up ahead but the journey is worth the risk because the only other option we have is horrifying. We can’t defend ourselves in our own home anymore. The weapons my parents have assembled over the years couldn’t shield us from this hell. The living horror that the survivors have transformed into is unspeakable. There’s no hope for the world we have left behind except to continue the journey set before us.

We pray, slowly progressing thoseupwe slowly progress171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 five steps a day, one day at a time, with our safe haven barely within reach. It’s the only hope, encouragement, and inspires us to proceed with our daily routine. It’s a struggle not to relinquish hope, man, journey, and whatever lies ahead in the upcoming days. We vow to each other every night and morning to not be discouraged. My mother is the backbone with her unwavering faith. We know she is exhausted, but to those who do not know her personally, they wouldn’t visually recognize signs of exhaustion. She’s our rock, foundation, heart, and key to survival.

Landon and I are the lucky ones. We have our whole immediate family with us. The tears, heartbreak, and tension threaten to break everyone. We have seen things no human should ever have to see.

Chapter One

Kyla

One Year Ago

Devastation Begins

My eighteenth birthday celebration was nothing compared to graduating from High School. I’m elated it’s my last year of school. College sounds more exciting to me than any part-time job. I have chosen to major in computer science, because my career goal is to become a computer programmer. I’m so eager for my graduation day and a start to a new life.

The bell signaling the start of the school day and for my first period, English class to begin, rings loudly while I take my assigned seat. Ms. Webber sits at her desk opening the literature book she’s been teaching us. We are instructed to retrieve our books and follow along as she reads. We are going to be a part of the school production of Romeo and Juliet, and she expects most of her class to win the auditions for cast.

A sharp popping sound startles the class into quietness, and it is followed by another thunderous pop. My classmates and I glance around the room trying to determine what is making the thundering blasts and the location of them. It sounds like fireworks but the sound is more measured. All we can hear at this point is pop…pop…pop…pop…pop. The more of that particular sound we hear, the more piercing the noise becomes as if it’s approaching our location.

At first, I think it’s just some senior pulling a prank somewhere in the building. The sound closes in on the classroom, and the louder it gets the more the reality sets in. Realization suddenly dawns on Ms. Webber’s horrified face. Oh God, I know the noise everyone is hearing is gunfire. Ms. Webber jumps into immediate action, sprinting to the classroom door to lock it. The intercom clicks on at this point.

Code Green… Code Green… Please follow procedures accurately and calmly, Mr. Lawson, our principal, says in a panic-ridden voice.

The class immediately does the opposite of what is being instructed because everyone panics as soon as they hear code green, drowning out the rest of Mr. Lawson’s voice. There is an active shooter in the building and the school is now in lock down. Having already secured the classroom door, Ms. Webber ushers the students to the back of the class in the corner following the safety school shooting manual step by step.ng days.we pray. It' 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171171 171 171

Everyone listen carefully. Please, calm down. It is of the utmost importance that you remain calm.

Her voice sounds anxious but her actions are calm. I’m terrified, and I glance around at my classmates making eye contact with a few. The return stares visualize their panic at the situation that plagues us currently.

Loud banging on the locked classroom door terrifies us further. I imagine my death coming soon and contemplate a plan of escape while my classmates continue sobbing, shaking in fear, and crawling as far into the corner as they can. It’s as if they are trying to become one with the wall. We are all desperately seeking escape. A few feet away is a metal cabinet. I crawl over to it, open the squeaking door and assess there’s enough room inside for me. Another metallic squeak as I close the door.

The view through the cracks is enough for me to see all around. Everyone is so panicked they haven’t noticed my absence. I’ve accomplished keeping a level head, even though I’m petrified. My main concern is Landon, and I need to locate him in this building. Surviving this ordeal is the key to saving my brother. At this point, I can only pray that he’s safely hidden somewhere.

My thoughts are interrupted by the smell of something metallic and my fear heightens when smoke enters the room from the tiny opening underneath the door. It’s enough smoke to induce choking for some. Although, most people are attempting to suppress the need to cough, they fail. I utilize the sleeve of my shirt as a filter and take slow, deep breaths through it. The panic has taken all rational thoughts from everyone, because everyone is in fight or flight mode. The latter being the unconscious choice of most. I pray the coughing doesn’t alert the gunman to our presence inside the classroom.

The metal classroom door is torn from its hinges by huge bare hands. Standing in the doorway is a tall, bear of a man with pure unadulterated hatred and sinister rage in his eyes. He doesn’t tarry long before the shooting resumes. There’s no remorse, empathy, or care recognizable in his actions while he executes my classmates one by one with multiple gunshots at point blank range. I clamp a hand to my mouth.

The screams of terror seem to encourage him, as he marches around the room stopping at another victim, placing the 9mm between the eyes and pulling the trigger over and over. Bullets are fired in all directions, shattering windows, piercing desks, making our classroom resemble a war zone as he switches back and forth between his 9mm and his AK47.

He pauses to reload his clip. His evil laughter fills the room, and it’s as if we are in some horror film. His behavior is strangely erratic, mirroring the actions of a frenzied addict looking for their next fix. There’s no purpose, reason, motive, or pattern to his movements, conduct, violence, and killing spree.

Bullet-ridden bodies now lay in a pile in the corner where Ms. Webber had placed us for safety, blood pooling across the floor. The acrid metallic smell of blood gags me, almost forcing my stomach to empty its entire contents. I swallow it down. The room resembles a battlefield minus the soldiers. It seems there are twenty eight fatalities in this room, and I’ve survived thus far. Is Landon alive? Has he found a place to hide like I have? What’s going to happen if this man finds me? I won’t be able to save Landon.

Metal clattering on the floor from chairs being tossed about, startle me and I realize I was about to panic. Kyla, keep a level head! I chastise myself, focusing on this madman wreaking havoc around me. He’s flinging chairs, desks, cabinets, and bookshelves, as if they’re feathers, leaving destruction in his wake.

There’s one intact cabinet remaining, and it’s the one I’ve made my safe haven. His eyes land on it and he approaches with a snarl. I am about to die.

Six swat team officers enter the room in full combat gear. They scope the carnage. None of them follow procedure by trying to arrest, subdue, or attempt to take the gun away. All of these things are what you would expect them to do, but the six of them open fire emptying their clips into him. At first I’m relieved by their actions, gratified at the twitching man’s body pock-marked with bloody holes. That turns to shock and amazement. I can’t believe my eyes, because the man is still standing, even though he’s obviously not wearing a bulletproof vest.

The gunman points his pistol at the officers while they reload. He fires the three shots and then click, click, click. He doesn’t even pause after the realization should have alerted him to the fact that his clip is empty again. One of the six officers has been shot in the head. The other five have reloaded now, and they empty their clips in him once again. This time the bullets rip his head to a bloody pulp and he crumbles to the floor.

I open the cabinet door, dreading the metallic squeal and put my hands in the air. Five guns are immediately pointed at me. I’m tackled to the floor and searched for weapons. Tears are streaming down my face. I’m trembling with adrenaline, shaking with anxiety, and terrified that my brother is injured. God, please don’t let it be worse. I refuse to entertain the possibility, my body declines the shock, and my denial-ridden mind rejects the thought of him being dead. I believe my body started operating on auto-pilot a while back, because it’s the only explanation to why I’m still functioning. After I’m searched, they instruct me to vacate the building and radio ahead to outside officers to hold me for questions.

The officers analyze the pile of bloody, mangled bodies in the corner, checking for a pulse. I watch in horror as they shake their heads no signaling they’re dead. I use they’re morbid preoccupation to proceed in the opposite direction I was instructed to go. I’m not leaving this building until I find my brother. I sprint to the wing of the building belonging to the juniors, passing bodies lying all over the floor. It’s the most grotesque thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

I arrive at the junior wing, but I don’t hear a sound. It’s so quiet I begin to panic, my mind wreaking havoc as I hope against what my head is telling me. It doesn’t look as if there are any survivors in this part of the building. My brother has to be alive, oh God, please let him be.

I reach my brother’s classroom door and take a moment to regain composure before opening the door. I’m preparing myself for the same carnage I’d seen in my class. After three deep steadying breaths, I jerk the door open before my body refuses to function.

Inside is the same destruction, only worse as this is where my brother should be. I gag and empty the entirety of my stomach contents. My legs give way and I drop to the floor, sobs wracking my body, as I look around at the dead bodies scattered about the room. Blood is everywhere, soaking into my jeans, as I weep uncontrollably. The same thought is playing on repeat in my mind, my brother is dead, and it won’t cease.

My hysterical cries catch the attention of a swat team member rummaging through bodies, checking for survivors in the class next to Landon’s. Within seconds, I’m hoisted to my feet and dragged from the destruction, screaming until I feel like my throat may collapse.

Put me down, you fucking asshole! Where the hell is my brother? I scream at the man who has me pinned to his body. If my arms weren’t secured at my side, I’d punch him in the face.

Ma’am you’re going to have to calm down! he responds.

Seriously, who are you calling ma’am, asshole? Calm down? What the hell? I can’t, my brother is in there, somewhere. The sobs consume my voice.

He grunts but doesn’t speak to me again. He continues to carry me to the parking lot. I struggle all the way, screaming hysterically. We reach an armored truck with ‘SWAT’ written in bold white letters and he places me beside the truck.

Stay!

Do I look like a fucking dog, asshole?

Sissy?

I hear my brother call me by my younger title. Landon, Oh my God, where are you? I look all around but do not see him.

I’m right here, sis.

I follow the sound of Landon’s voice and look under the truck to see him crouched on the other side. I sprint into his arms, throwing myself at him, and cry hysterically as he catches me and we both tumble to the ground.

Lan, are you hurt? I ask through my tears.

No Ky, I’m fine, but my class, they’re all…

Shhh… I know, Lan, mine too, I say before he can tell me they’re all dead.

Ky, oh my God, I’ve never seen so much blood! He trembles in shock.

Lan, has anyone called mom? I need to get as far away from here as I can.

What about our friends? he asks worriedly.

A shadow falls over us.

Please, get in the truck. We need to relocate you two to the church down the street with the rest of the survivors so you can be checked in. The man who carried me points to my brother and me and to the back of the truck.

He ushers us inside the truck, and I hold onto my brother for dear life. I’m afraid for my friend’s lives, but I’m relieved