Sam the Chosen

By Wally Jones

The attacks changed everything. Life would never be the same.

So much carnage, and yet the enemy was never seen. Not even once. The truth is, humanity had no chance. You can't fight what you can't see.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Koehler Books
• Release date: Nov 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781646634552

Wally Jones

Wally Jones is a first-time author. He is also fully dyslexic. It wasn't until his late twenties, and after dozens of tests for physical disabilities and learning disorders, that it was discovered he was missing the fundamental ability to encode and decode word phonics. Reading and writing simply wasn't possible for him. He subsequently spent many years building a comprehensive Sight Vocabulary and is now considered to be fully compensated. However, dyslexia still causes him many problems. Though he continues to struggle with reading and writing, Sam the Chosen serves as testament that all challenges can be overcome.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It was late in the evening by the time the High Council reached a decision. The Sun had set many hours prior, and the remembrance of food and sleep felt distant for all. It had been a grueling four days of deliberations, proving to be one of the most difficult decisions the High Council had ever made, and for good reason.

Grondi sat in quiet contemplation while the rest of the High Council said their farewells and filed out of the Council Chamber. Grondi decided he was more tired than hungry, and more mentally drained than physically fatigued. But now was no time for rest. There was still much that needed to be done, and time was running out quickly.

At least a decision had finally been reached. Perhaps there was hope after all, even if only a glimmer. They would only get this one chance, so it had to work. The cost of failure was too high for it not to succeed.

Grondi was among the oldest and wisest on the High Council. He knew precisely how to wield his vast experience to bring the other members to his way of thinking and take action toward stopping the blight that had plagued society for many generations.

The blight must end, or we will be dooming ourselves to extinction. The Time of Prophecy is upon us. The Signal of the Giver may come any day. We must be prepared. We have to act now.

There was no rebuttal. Extinction loomed and everyone knew it.

Now is the critical time for action before we reach a turning point from which we cannot recover. We must act before we are lost to history.

Grondi’s plan was controversial. It was disdainful for many and downright revolting to others. However, despite their dislike, the High Council agreed that something must be done to end the blight on society and avert extinction. Grondi offered the only solution. It had been done once before—but only once—and that was a long time ago, during a time of great need and upheaval. Those were truly dark days, but the Prophecy could prove worse if something did not change quickly.

As horrific as it sounded, Grondi’s plan was to be put into immediate action. The High Council decreed it. All must obey and act accordingly.

Grondi waited until the rest of the High Council exited the chamber before he stood to leave. It felt good to move. He had sat for too long and was stiff.

Nechek walked up and stood slightly behind and to the right of Grondi. It will work.

Grondi turned and found Nechek and Thipen standing behind him.

Come, old friends, Grondi said. We have plans to make. We must inform those who were not present and begin final preparations. I fear strange times are ahead.

CHAPTER 2

The attacks started suddenly and without warning.

By the third day, the entire world was stunned. The escalation of death was unprecedented and unmatched by any period in history. Collectively the world panicked.

News headlines turned increasingly disturbing, and television commentators became more hysterical by the day. Horrific stories were regular daily occurrences as the number of dead continued to rise at an alarming rate.

What unnerved society most was that the attacks seemed random. Time of day, day of the week, location, weather, those attacked, nothing was ever consistent. Everyone was a target.

The attacks were relentless and global in scale. In only a few days there were already tens of thousands of people lost forever and those numbers were growing quickly. There was never a break. Every hour of everyday, announcements of new attacks hit the news feeds.

Then a pattern was recognized. Families were being attacked nearly twice as much as single individuals. The news reported every member of a family was killed during an attack. None survived.

People began to move and congregate in large groups for protection.

Studies were hastily put together to look for further patterns in the attacks. Any additional insight could help save lives; none were found. Young or old, male or female, Black or White or Brown, wealthy or poor, left-handed or right-handed, religious or not, nothing seemed to matter.

Many families refused to go outside, petrified in their homes. But their hiding did not help. Families still died.

The news reports claimed no one of special interest was ever killed. All families slain were completely average in every way. The John Doe family, the Plain Jane household, that family down the street that nobody really knew, because they kept to themselves, whose kids always played outside and made a ruckus. Those were the targets.

News outlets turned their focus toward the humanity of such tragedy, or the lack thereof.

What sort of monster could continue to do these horrible atrocities? became a familiar refrain among newscasters and commentators.

What does it mean when the most essential building block of society is preyed upon? Can humanity ever recover?

What sort of heinous beast could prey upon innocent people in such evil and vicious attacks of pure hatred?

All the news offered was more questions. Reporters gave no answers. There were never answers.

The attacks continued.

By the end of the first week of attacks, just over one million people had been slain globally. There seemed to be no end in sight. Society was terrified. The masses hoarded food and anything else they could if they thought it had even the slightest possibility of helping them survive. Stores quickly emptied.

It didn’t help.

Many people acquired weapons to defend themselves, and carried them openly. Overnight it became acceptable to see someone carrying a firearm, a knife, a baseball bat, or some other self-made weapon. Law and order took a backseat to self-preservation.

It didn’t help.

Then a second pattern emerged, it was even more bleak than the first.

None of the targets were ever killed cleanly. The victims were mauled and slaughtered brutally. Throats were gashed, bodies were cleaved, and limbs were torn completely asunder. The scene of an attack was a horrific bloodbath of carnage and the absolute destruction of life. The news reported that the attacks were a kind of savagery the planet had not seen in hundreds of years.

The attacks raged non-stop for two weeks and already over three million people had been killed globally as the attacks grew more frequent. Law enforcement agencies were baffled. They had no idea how to stop, or even begin to combat, the attacks, because they had no clue what they were fighting—or who. In all this time not a single attacker had ever been seen. Not a single eyewitness was ever found. Not one security camera caught video of an attack. No evidence of any kind was found at the scene. Blood and gore were all that was left behind.

Churches, schools, and restaurants were closed and used as make-shift morgues. Bodies piled up. Many local and regional governments began making emergency plans for mass graves.

Leaders of nations met in emergency sessions. For the first time in history, all nations agreed on a single topic—something must be done to stop these attacks before the unseen enemy killed all of humanity. Politics and ideology no longer mattered. Geography, borders, and national customs were no longer part of the decision-making process.

If this menace was going to be stopped, it had to be acted upon quickly and harshly. It was time to fight savagery with savagery. Human survival hung in the balance.

Militaries from every nation were called into service. Every branch was marshalled for full combat action. National Guards were put into service. Reservists were called up and activated. Anyone with prior military service was sent back to active duty, regardless of age, position, or rank. Most did so without question or hesitation. They were happy and proud to serve yet again.

Foot soldiers and Marines helped augment local authorities. Naval ships patrolled the sea borders while Coast Guard boats watched the larger inland rivers and lakes with access to open waters. Jet fighters flew over in regularly scheduled intervals. On clear days you could even see the contrails of high-altitude bombers and surveillance planes.

Martial law ensued on the global scale. Freedoms were stripped. Movements were restricted. Strict curfews were put in place with the most severe punishment. Anyone caught breaking curfew was shot on sight. No questions asked. No mercy given.

Business came to a halt while doors and windows were shuttered. Only grocery stores and hospitals were allowed to remain open, and even those were restricted to certain hours. People were given scheduled times to go shopping and were forced to stay inside at all other times.

City streets filled with armed vehicles and heavy artillery. Armed soldiers and Marines were stationed around the clock at every major road intersection, at every shopping plaza, at every school and government building. Military teams began roaming neighborhoods at regular intervals. Every now and then a military helicopter flew over at low altitude, thunderously loudly.

Despite the massive global military show of force, the attacks continued undeterred and undetected. The enemy attacked freely, without remorse or regard.

The news reports became even more ominous. Six million people have already been killed in only three weeks. It appears humanity may not survive this assault if we cannot find a way to combat our attackers.

The global population huddled in fear and expected the worst. It seemed there was nothing that could stop the unseen assailant. Humanity would be lost. It was only a matter of time.

Then one day the news reported no attacks.

None, not a single attack anywhere. The entire planet had been sparred for an entire day. Humanity held its collective breath and hoped for the best.

Another two days went by without an attack, which then stretched into a week with no deaths.

It appeared the threat had ended as quickly and as mysteriously as it had begun.

The final death toll was reported as eight million. It was the worst twenty-eight days in recorded human history.

Now humanity collectively turned towards stability and rebuilding.

CHAPTER 3

Samantha sat in her classroom, reading a book to her students. Sam enjoyed story time. She loved the simple and clear truth the tales held. Many life lessons can be learned from children’s fables.

Sam’s classroom, like most elementary schools, was filled with low desks and small chairs. Her desk was the only adult sized furniture in the classroom. The plain white walls were covered in brightly colored finger-paint artwork, cubbyholes, and letter and number charts.

The group of second graders sat in a semicircle in front of Sam, listening, enthralled. She had her students sit with their backs to the door so they wouldn’t notice the constant motion in the hallway. An armed soldier patrolled the hall and paced by her classroom door every few minutes. It took some growing accustomed to, but that was how things were now. She wanted to shield the children from the harsh world they lived in. None of it was their fault, and they deserved a normal childhood.

There hadn’t been an attack for over five weeks, but security had not eased. The truth was that things might never return to the way they were before. Sam was thankful for the little pieces of life that were getting back to normal, like school. She loved teaching. She missed her students during the weeks everything had been closed and was relieved her entire class returned unscathed.

"That is the tale of The Ant and the Grasshopper, Sam said to her students in a calm and soothing voice. It is one of my very favorite tales."

Mine too, replied one the children. He was sitting cross-legged with his head in his hands and elbows on his knees.

Me too, said another.

Now, can anyone tell me what the story means? Sam asked her class.

It means the grasshopper should not have goofed off because now he is hungry, belted out one of her students from the back of the semicircle.

That is correct, Sam answered.

The grasshopper shouldn’t have played music all summer. He should have been getting food like the ants, called another.

That is correct too. Very good, Sam answered. The story gives us two very important lessons. The first lesson is to always plan ahead and be prepared for what might come. The second lesson is that there is a time and a place for everything. For example, right now is story time, so we sit quietly and listen to the story. Do we paint during story time?

No! the class replied simultaneously while giggling.

Exactly. Story time is for stories, so we sit, and we listen. After story time will be math. We will prepare for math by sitting at our desks and taking out our math workbooks. During math it will be time to continue learning about place value, tens, and hundreds. After math will be recess.

Yeah! Recess! Recess! the class cheered.

Sadly, recess was never the same. It was difficult for the children to run and play freely while armed soldiers stood guard. Thankfully, children accept change easily. Sam thought she had a harder time with recess than the kids. Adults don’t accept change as easily as children. She was glad her school still had recess at all, as many schools had abandoned recess for security reasons.

Alright! Recess is over! Samantha said loudly while clapping her hands. The children quickly settled down and formed a line in front of her, waiting to go back inside.

Thank you, Sam continued calmly. It’s time for our writing assignment. Go back inside and pull out your writing workbooks please.

The children quickly scrambled to their desks. Sam went to her desk and took a large gulp from her water bottle before beginning the next lesson. Her water bottle was filled with coffee, but her students didn’t know that. It was her third bottle of the day.

The writing lesson quickly came and went as did the rest of the daily lessons. Before Sam realized it, she was dropping her students off at the after-school program and helping the rest into cars and buses for the ride home. Her days were often hectic and busy with no down time. Every day was one giant blur of activity. She felt most teachers were probably like that.

Once all the children were taken care of, Sam had time to sit and start the rest of her daily duties. She graded tests, checked homework assignments, cleaned her classroom, wrote parents concerning the day’s events, and began preparations for the next day. It was often early evening before she finished. Luckily, the school year was almost over. Sam was glad school was back in session, but she needed a break. It had been a stressful few months. A bit of down time was overdue for everyone.

Once everything was finished for the day, Sam usually had about an hour before needing to head home and tend to the needs of her family. This hour was her time, her recess. It was her only respite during the crazy day, and she spent it the best way she knew how. Sam ran.

Sam enjoyed running. It was the perfect balance between body and brain. The physical exercise tired her body, but it sharpened her mental acuity and focused her thoughts, allowing her to solve her daily problems.

Sam had run competitively in school. The middle distances were her specialty. She excelled at the long sprints. Her body was built for it. She was short, slender, and muscular, but had long powerful legs. She appeared a bit lanky, but it made for long and quick strides, which meant she could maintain a great pace for a long time. She won many of her races, but now she only ran for the sake of running.

Sam grabbed her bag, locked her classroom, and went to the teachers’ lounge. That was one of the problems working at an elementary school—the lack of locker rooms. There wasn’t a good place for her to change out of her teacher clothes and into her running attire. She couldn’t change in her classroom with all the windows, and the bathrooms were too small because they were built for children. Sam tried changing in her car a few times, but that proved difficult. Plus, she really didn’t like the possibility of someone accidentally seeing her and telling the school board.

With the lack of any better alternative, Sam took to changing in the teachers’ lounge and hoped that no one caught her. By this time, most of the other teachers had already left, so it was a safe bet that no one would catch her changing. At least, no one had yet. Besides, if someone did see her changing, it would most likely be another teacher who would be sympathetic to her situation. Most of the other teachers were women too, so that made her feel a lot better about changing in the lounge.

Just as Sam began to undress, the armed soldier patrolling the hallway walked into the teachers’ lounge and caught her mostly naked. Luckily, her long blonde hair covered the most embarrassing parts of her bare chest. Sam stood in her panties and socks, starring at the soldier in disbelief. She grabbed her jogging shirt to help cover herself since the solder didn’t look away. She got the impression that the soldier pretended to be embarrassed about the situation while he ogled her and slowly doled out a wordy apology.

You shouldn’t be coming in here without knocking, she admonished the soldier. He only grinned.

Sam didn’t like to run the same route every day. That got monotonous, so she often varied her path. She might run to the nearby high school and lap the track, or she might run through the neighborhood her school serviced, or maybe run through the park. It was never planned as her route reflected her mood. Today she thought she’d run through the nearby grocery store complex and into the giant vacant lot on the far side. She hadn’t been there for a while. That lot was supposed to be another neighborhood, but it lost funding before any of the houses were built. Now it was just a bunch of empty lots and roads.

Sam grabbed her cellphone and put it in the shoulder pocket of her jogging shirt, then found her earphones. She put her long blonde hair up in a quick ponytail and headed out. It was a pleasant evening. Summer was approaching and the air was starting to get hot and humid, but it was tempered by the sinking Sun and a nice breeze. Never discount a nice breeze.

Sam ran a quick lap around the elementary school property to warm up, then found a patch of grass and did five minutes of stretching. It was a practice she had kept since her competitive running days. Once she was warmed up and loose, she turned on her music and started up the road toward the grocery store.

Twice Sam had to stop and wait for traffic. That was one of the disadvantages of coming this way. She didn’t like the disruptions, but they were worth it for the solitude of the abandoned neighborhood. She jogged in place while a large refrigeration truck drove past. She knew it carried the remains of those killed during the attacks. It was a gruesome reminder.

Sam made the grocery store plaza in under five minutes. She counted four armed soldiers while running through the plaza, one pair stationed at the entrance of the plaza, the other at the exit, each with a well-armed vehicle.

Once she was through the congestion of the shopping plaza and into the open space of the vacant lot Sam picked up her pace. Every few minutes she bumped up her pace, until she couldn’t push any harder. She ran full out for as long as she could. Her surroundings became a blur, and she could only focus straight ahead. Her thoughts disappeared. Nothing else mattered at this moment. She was speed.

Sam enjoyed the speed. This was the real reason she ran. Speed. This wasn’t man-made, false speed. This was true, natural speed. The quickening of her pulse, the pounding of her feet, the hammering of her heart, all made her vision narrow as the air broke against her and was forced to rush out of her way. It was a feeling like none other.

After several minutes at top speed, Sam had to slow down. She smiled brightly, despite being exhausted, stopping a few minutes to catch her breath. She stood, hunched over, with her feet spread wide. Her hands were on her knees with her back arched up as rounded as she could possibly make it. She took deep but fast breaths, getting fresh air to every part of her body.

Sam turned and began the jog back to the school. Fast out and steady back in, just like she was trained. Others might find this pace still rapid, but to her, it was comfortable. She could keep up this pace for a long time.

As Sam jogged, she had time to look at her surroundings and allow her mind to wonder. Not much had changed since she last came this way. The trees were still the same, and the roads were starting to show signs of disuse, with the inevitable creep of weeds into the roadway as nature slowly reclaimed the land. She began to ponder where the family might go for summer break this year. Sam knew they needed a break, but she didn’t want to go to the beach again. They had done that for the past three years. She wanted something new. It didn’t need to be anything exciting, just something different. She thought perhaps the mountains might be a nice place to visit. Sam continued running along merrily as her mind hopped from topic to topic.

I need an idea for the end of the year class project. I want new music. This has gone a bit stale. Maybe I’ll search for some new songs later tonight. I could try an audiobook or podcasts, but they are usually dull and lack energy. I need music. I want to finish that book I started reading during the attacks. I just need to find the time. The mountains sound fun for summer vacation. I should look into that. Maybe the kids could start a recycling program. That would be a good project. They could learn the importance of recycling, keeping the environment clean and saving resources. I need a new pair of running shoes. These are starting to go flat. Maybe bright yellow ones next time. I’ll window shop online tonight while I’m looking for some new music. Definitely need new music, something upbeat and fun. It’s only Tuesday. How is that possible? Tonight might need to be a quick dinner. I’m not up for making anything special. Maybe I can make spaghetti and garlic bread. It’s always a favorite. I need a bath. I have to remember to research going to the mountains this summer while looking at shoes and music.

As Sam approached the grocery store plaza, she could tell something was wrong. She could see flashing lights and hear sirens in the distance. She could also see both military vehicles had been positioned in the road to shut traffic off from one lane. The soldiers were in the street directing traffic. A police car and an ambulance had just pulled up as well. It was a scene of chaos, and she assumed the worst.

Not again, Sam whispered to herself, fearing the attacks had restarted. She couldn’t go through that again. The thought of more attacks stopped her in her tracks.

Sam stood, dumbfounded, as her inner panic began to take control. She could feel the constricting of her chest, as if the weight of the entire world sat firmly on