Free Awakening: Dead Forever Book 1 by William Campbell Page A

experiment, testing how the subject turns out if tortured by an endless dose of ignorance.
    “You’re damn right I don’t know a bunch of stuff. Like who you are, and this other guy, and what the hell’s going on. I want answers!”
    She sits up to straddle my waist. “Adam, it’s me, Madison. You know, your—”
    “Maddie!” the other fellow shouts. “Knock it off. Don’t be talking like that before he’s ready. You know how it works.”
    More people talking about me in the third person. Enough of this crap.
    “And you!” I holler at her nerdy partner. “Who are you? Don’t talk to her about me. Talk to me if you have something to say about me.”
    I shove Madison off. She gets up and casts a disbelieving stare. Too bad, girl, I have better things to do than lie under you.
    The other fellow approaches, a scrawny runt with stringy hair crossing his brow, hair he keeps pushing to one side, an annoying nervous habit. He wears baggy shorts a few sizes too large, perhaps all he could find or afford. His chicken legs descend from the giant shorts, into black socks and red sneakers. What a goofball. An oversized tee-shirt hangs from his wiry frame, decorated by crazy artwork. I can’t make out what it’s supposed to be, maybe a logo, but really just a splash of color with orange fabric for a backdrop.
    “I’m sorry, sir,” he says. “I didn’t mean to upset you. We need to do a few things first, then we’ll help you understand everything, I promise. Oh, and I’m Matthew, by the way, but you can call me Matt.”
    Sir? Did he just call me sir? He is a bit younger. Perhaps it’s that respect for your elders nonsense. But I’m not that much older than him.
    “Okay, Matt. I’m Carl, but you can call—”
    Wait—that didn’t work on the last guy. My corny joke went right over his head. I should refrain, though it seems to be working this time. Matt has already started chuckling.
    “Call you Carl?” he asks. “I’d prefer Adam, and yeah, that lame joke of yours works with Adam, too.”
    “Now hold on, you’re doing the same thing, talking about stuff before I’m ready. What makes you so special? And what the hell am I not ready for?”
    “Sorry, sir, I’m just excited to see you again, the same way Maddie is. Please forgive me. We need to get out, I mean, fix you up, okay?”
    “Quit apologizing! And quit calling me sir. You know I hate that.”
    He does? How do I know he knows? Weird.
    “We need to fix your wounds,” he says. “Then we’ll explain everything.” He points to my hand.
    I had almost forgotten in all the commotion. Again the inescapable pain mechanism turns on. Upon inspecting my burnt palm, oh how the pain comes alive.
    “We need to put you under, sir. Oops, I’m sor— I mean, put you—”
    “Under what?”
    “You know, right? Well I guess maybe not. Under . . . while we take out . . . I mean, while we fix you up, okay?”
    “Take out what?” I ask, just as a migraine erupts. Here comes that truck driving through.
    Madison shoves him out of the way. “Matt, just shut up. Let me handle this.” She draws near, holding a slender metallic vial. “I’m sorry, honey. Don’t be mad at me, this is necessary.”
    She pokes me in the neck with her sinister device. It burns. Something flows from the tiny shaft, into my body, and I begin to feel fuzzy. Now what have I gotten myself into? I’m about to fall, Matt is moving behind me, and Madison helps him catch my limp body. I feel light and free, an enjoyable sensation, almost like floating through space, but at the same time, I’m scared.
    I’m afraid I’ve been tricked again.

Chapter 3
     
    Grass. I feel grass. It tickles my back and makes me itch. And moist, the ground is cool, but there is heat coming from above. I open my eyes to see a gorgeous pink sky, full of puffy white clouds, sunbeams slicing through it all.
    A tree towers overhead, its leafy limbs shading the meadow as I lie here gazing into the sky. Sunlight