Between Two Minds: Awakening Read online

  Table Of Contents

  Prologue: Hearts and Minds

  Chapter 1: The End Is Nigh

  Chapter 2: One Last Goodbye

  Chapter 3: Careful What You Wish For

  Chapter 4: Laws Were Meant to Be Broken

  Chapter 5: Don’t Mind My Driving

  Chapter 6: Seeing Is Believing

  Chapter 7: Some Things You Can’t Unsee

  Chapter 8: It’s All Part of the Process

  Chapter 9: In Sickness and in Health

  Chapter 10: One Step Forward

  Chapter 11: Too Weak Notice

  Chapter 12: What Doesn’t the Future Hold?

  Chapter 13: When Your Heart is Not in It

  Chapter 14: One Last Cry for Help

  Chapter 15: Hope’s Funeral

  Chapter 16: Doubt Truth to be a Liar

  Chapter 17: Thanks, But No Thanks

  Chapter 18: A Slip of the Tongue

  Chapter 19: Crossing the Line

  Chapter 20: Running From the Truth

  Chapter 21: The Eye of the Beholder

  Chapter 22: Digging Up the Past

  Chapter 23: If All Else Fails

  Chapter 24: The Price of a Memory

  Chapter 25: Trial by Fire

  Chapter 26: How Far From the Apple Tree?

  Chapter 27: Betrayal Never Comes from Enemies

  Chapter 28: The House that Lies Built

  Chapter 29: What Doesn’t Kill You

  Chapter 30: Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

  Dear Reader,

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Book One

  Between Two Minds: Awakening

  Copyright © 2017 by D. C. Wright-Hammer

  For more about this author please visit hammerstonecreative.com

  All characters and events in this eBook, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Editing by The Pro Book Editor

  Design by IAPS.rocks

  ISBN: 978-0-9992490-0-0

  1. FIC028010 – FICTION / Science Fiction / Action & Adventure

  2. FIC031080 – FICTION / Thrillers / Psychological

  First Edition

  To Emily, Cameron, and Avery for being amazing even when I am between two minds.

  Warning!

  Chapter 15, Hope’s Funeral, may be uncomfortable for some who have experience with suicide.

  Please read with caution.

  Prologue:

  Hearts and Minds

  “Bravo Company, rough turbulence ahead. You are cleared for takeoff, but proceed with caution. HQ out.”

  The endless night sky was clearer and darker than I could ever remember. All the constellations made their presence known. Orion’s Belt and the Big and Little Dippers shone bright against the black sky, but the Gemini grouping was particularly apparent. Filling the sky to our left, a super moon provided the only light we had. Strangely, the limitless black space above provided a wholesome comfort in its simplicity, and it was then that I became aware of the warm, growing sense of peace emerging from my core. With all of our preparation, things had felt fairly routine up to that point. We’d done it a hundred times before, and I had no reason to believe this night would be any different. At that moment, the journey ahead seemed like it would be a successful one.

  Then my perfect view of the abyss above became obscured by a thick, black cloud of smoke. The intense stink of gunpowder followed, burning my nostrils and making my eyes water a little. The echo of gunfire and explosions in the distance killed the calming silence of the previous few minutes, and in an instant, my serenity was obliterated. The inner warmth raged from peace into hellfire, and an unquestionable certainty popped into my mind.

  No one will return unscathed from this mission.

  Backs against the wall, Bravo Company and I readied our weapons for battle after receiving the go-ahead from HQ. There was almost a rhythm to the clicks and clacks of the loading of magazines and the pulling back of operator pins as we prepared for the enemy across the street. Our heads all turned to our scout, who took the cue to inch toward the edge of the wall. Deliberately peering around the corner to gain a view of our target, she turned back to us.

  Thumbs-up.

  In unison, the rest of the squad slid behind the scout and waited for the final confirmation signal. Unlike the firefights raging on the other side of the city, it was deadly quiet at our location. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought we infiltrated that deep into enemy territory undetected and the hostiles would be caught off guard. Maybe we would be in and out in no time, and all of us would be back at base later that night, celebrating an easy victory. But no. I definitely knew better than that. Something was off.

  In those final moments, with sweat pouring down my neck and onto my back, I was anything but confident. Looking over at all my squad mates, I saw that familiar look of conviction stretched across each of their faces. They were all tough as nails in their own way, and it was always an honor to go to battle with them. But through the face paint and sweat and behind their calloused, defensive exteriors, there were hints of something very different—uncertainty, doubt, and to some extent, fear. After a few moments, it was clear that I looked the same.

  The scout raised her hand up high and extended her thumb, index, and middle fingers, then dropped them one by one.

  Three…two…one…

  Backs down, we all slipped around the corner, across the street, and toward the factory. The aerial scans had brought back an 80% chance that it was being used to manufacture and house illegal drugs and possibly munitions, but it was grunts like us who would provide confirmation.

  Reaching the outer wall of the building, we gently eased our bodies against it and pointed our rifles to the sky. Again, the scout took initiative and headed for the door, placing a small amount of plastic explosive with precision while half of us looked outward in case she needed cover. The other half were the battering rams preparing to kick down the blown-up door and engage the enemy. Normally a scout, I was more than happy to be a big gun for this mission. The tension grew thick as the minutes ticked by while the scout did her work.

  With all of my mental power, I was focused on the mission until I felt a movement next to my left boot. It took all of my years of training and missions not to jump out of my skin as the scarlet death, a scorpion with fatal venom, started its ascent up my pant leg.

  Shink!

  It will forever be burned into my memory, the grin on my squad mate’s face as he lifted the stabbed and flailing arachnid to my face before droppi
ng it the ground and crushing it under his boot. The audible crunch was the loudest noise we’d made all night. Knowing I would get shit later for the incident, I quickly came to peace with it and focused back on the task at hand.

  The scout finally put her hand in the air again to move the mission forward.

  Three…two…one…

  Pow!

  The battering rams and I led the way, launching the door inward, followed by a barrage of muffled thuds from the smoke bombs we chucked into the building. The rat-a-tat-tat of automatic weapons started from across the factory, and we all quickly hit the ground and returned fire. The star-shaped flashes of the enemy weapons in the dimly lit smoke provided all the targets we needed to neutralize most of them. We sent more smoke bombs and flash bangs deeper into the factory and crawled forward to keep the pressure on. After a few more rounds from our end, the enemy fire stopped completely, and it seemed as if we were going to have the easy win that I had initially doubted.

  “Bravo Company, stay alert. Wait for my signal.” The scout reminded us to be vigilant as she skulked forward through the smoke and toward the hallway of offices.

  With the moment of reprieve, we all reloaded and prepped for the next phase of the mission.

  Leaning in, my squad mate couldn’t help himself. “It’s a good thing I saved you from that deadly red; otherwise, this might have been a tough mission.”

  Before I could respond or punch him, chills ran down my spine as a familiar and terrifying sound changed everything—the dink, dink, dink of an enemy canister bouncing in our direction.

  “Marines, masks on!”

  Our auto-masks exploded from our packs, slipped over our heads, and enclosed our faces. The squad mate next to me dove near the rest of the squad as a canister exploded into a puff of thick yellow dust right between them and me. Standing outside the gas, I could only make out the silhouettes of my crew as a dreadful mechanical voice from our headsets alerted us to the seriousness of the situation.

  “Warning: Unknown substance detected. Evacuate the area. Unknown substance detected. Evacuate the area.”

  My stomach dropped as the dangerous fog began to float in my direction. I tried to do everything in my power to keep an eye on the squad. As pockets of the cloud dissipated, I helplessly watched as most of Bravo Company dropped one by one without making so much as a loud gasp over the walkie. They were able-bodied, hard-ass marines one second and likely dead the next.

  Paralysis overcame me as my mind rattled through all the different ways to help them. Time slowed to a screeching halt, and silence swooped in as my mind failed to function optimally as it had on almost every mission up until then. Slowly blinking and hopelessly lost in thought, the deadly smog crept ever so close to my face. Inches from a likely awful death, I had to make a call.

  What good will it be for me to die too?

  My decision was made, and fortunately, my instincts kicked in. I snapped out of it just before taking in my first breath of yellow death. Assuming a hunched position, I aimed my weapon toward the hallway and headed in the direction of the scout. Entering the hallway, I dropped to a knee and began to crawl. It was all too quiet, but I knew what was waiting for me ahead. Rounding the corner into one room, I rolled onto my back to surprise one of the enemy standing above me. We made the briefest of eye contact, and I was a little shocked that I didn’t detect even the slightest hint of fear or even doubt but only intense hatred.

  Squeezing my trigger harder than ever, my bullets sawed him nearly in half from bottom to top and his innards spewed down in a heaping mess all over me. I put both feet up to stop his halves from falling on top of me. Nevertheless, blood poured all over my mask, covering the eye lens and breathing vent. Panicking when my next breath was denied, my instincts to rip the mask off didn’t kick in immediately, and oddly enough, time stood still as the strangest voice popped into my head.

  I can’t breathe! I’m sorry, Sarah.

  Shaken to the core, I snapped out of my stupor to violently tear the mask from my face and have it slide back into my pack. But in looking for a breath of life, I was instead met by a rain of death from my victim. His blood and guts, still drizzling, went right into my mouth as I shoved his mangled body to the side with my legs. Overcome by the nauseating, irony taste, I gagged and coughed hard trying to spit out as much as possible. In the end, it seemed like a reasonable trade, my life for a mouth full of enemy entrails, but I definitely wasn’t the bloodthirsty invader he thought I was.

  Popping to my feet, I wiped off as many solid pieces as I could and quickly scanned the room. When I deemed it clear, I turned back to the hallway with my weapon pointed. I dropped back down to a crawl, then found the next three rooms to be empty as I made my way toward the last room on the right.

  Again, I tried to surprise the hostile I detected by rolling onto my back, but she got the jump on me and kicked the rifle from my hands. Without thinking, I swept her legs and hopped up while grabbing the 9mm at my side. Her back to the ground, she again kicked the gun out of my hand, then rolled a powerful fist toward my crotch, narrowly missing a blow that would have put me down for the count. Before I could gather myself, she thrust me over her so she could hop to her feet behind me. The familiar shink of a dagger being pulled triggered me to pull my knife out as I turned to engage her.

  Coming at each other at full force, our blades collided with a metal ting, but my larger frame and momentum got the best of her as she staggered back. She lunged toward me again with knife pointed. I dodged her attack, grabbed her arm with my free hand, and flung her toward a wooden desk that she promptly slid under. After rolling to the ground to grab my 9mm, I popped onto the desk and repeatedly shot straight down through the wood, hoping to neutralize her.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  But she had slid from under the desk, toward the door, seemingly unscathed. While my shells were still tinking off the table and floor, I aimed in her direction, but she turned down the hallway before I could get off a clean shot. I was distracted for the briefest second by the subtle light coming through the large window on the far side of the office.

  Pop!

  The single gunshot from behind me made my life flash before my eyes, and I was instantly filled with regret. Time again slowed to a snail’s pace, and I could hear my heart pounding out of my chest. A single frigid bead of sweat dripped from my brow and into my eye, but I never so much as flinched as I looked on at the light coming from the window. Before the horrors of death could fully overtake me, the scout radioed in the building status.

  “Bravo Company, entry and hallway are clear. Checking in: Sierra Hotel. Over.”

  Exhaling out the terror that had seized me, I was brought back to reality. The shot was Sierra taking care of the hostile.

  I was perfectly fine. “Checking in: Coyote Royale. Over.”

  The silence that followed my reply brought a coldness over me.

  “HQ, vitals for Bravo Company, over.”

  Sierra inquired from the end of the hallway, but her voice led me to believe she was getting closer to my office.

  “Bravo Company, two strong, six weak. I repeat: Two strong. Six weak. Over.”

  “HQ, we need a medical evac with decontam at zero six four five. Over.”

  “Roger medical evac with decontam, Bravo Company. Medical evac with decontam en route. Over and out.”

  Sierra made her way back to me in the office, and I waved her over to the edge of the room near the window.

  “Is that your blood or…?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Whew.”

  Looking out the window, we saw the factory floor in a dim light, but could still see all of the expected industrial machinery and equipment.

  Something else caught Sierra’s eye, and she pointed. “Light down below.”

  Surprisingly easy to overlook, there appeared to be
a makeshift large room near the center of the factory floor that had white light seeping from the bottom of its walls. It had to be the large energy presence detected by the aerial scans, and that was where we’d find the drugs, munitions, or both.

  She gave the signal for us to move forward.

  Rifles ready, we headed down to the factory floor to investigate. Backs together, we cautiously entered the main production area while eying the catwalks above. I began leading us toward the glowing room when Sierra redirected us.

  “Let’s secure the perimeter before going any farther.”

  Rightfully so, she always kept safety at the fore of every mission. Almost silently, we circled the large space, eyes pointed through our sights, looking for even the slightest hint of movement. Stealthily maneuvering around fully stocked shelves and a scattered fleet of old forklifts, I couldn’t ignore that death might be lurking around every corner. When we finally covered the entire area and detected no enemy activity, we both spontaneously sighed in relief.

  “Factory floor is clear. Let’s investigate the room.”

  Just after she gave the order, something about the two large wooden crates on the far side of the factory caught my eye. I normally wouldn’t have thought twice about them, but they were labeled “Canned Goods” in the local language. While I couldn’t speak or even read much of their language, we had sent dozens of crates of rations just like them to the surrounding cities and towns, so I knew the writing. But they were definitely out of place in the factory. One of the ways the enemy developed a stronghold in the area was to feed some of the locals better than we did. So why did the extremists have low-quality food crates in their illegal factory?

  I pointed to the crates and motioned to Sierra to head in that direction with me. We lightly stepped toward them, and with one hand pointing my weapon, the other obtained the utility stick from my belt and fashioned it into a pry bar. Throwing my rifle over my shoulder, I reached up with both hands to position the pry bar under the top board of the crate, pushed hard to wedge it in, and with an oomph, pulled down with my body weight.