(The following excerpt is from “365 Days At War”,

the third installment in “The 365 Days Quadrilogy”.)

 

 

 

HOW IT ALL BEGAN - Kaylee

 

It began with three words…

 

Shifting our existence once again—changing, morphing it into something unexpected and terrifying.

 

We were the Locals.

They were the Crazies.

And—we were fighting for our lives.

 

But, I guess we should start at the beginning.

So, here's what we wrote in our journals, starting on that very first day—the day that Jacob took my hand in his and said…

 

“RUN, KAYLEE…RUN!!”

 

 

 

KAYLEE

 

These last few days have been some of the most astounding of our lives.

For 365 days, we were separated.

Girls without boys.

Boys without girls.

It was difficult, it was complicated, and—for the people I love—it was often dangerous and terrifying.

But we’re together now—boys and girls—back where we belong. It gives all of us hope that, somewhere, our parents and other disappeared loved ones are still alive.

We just have to find them.

 

* * * *

 

But—back to what happened at the high school that Halloween morning…

 

* * * *

 

On my knees, waiting to be shot by Tray, had to have been one of the lowest moments in my life. Without a doubt, I was certain that I was about to be killed. When I heard those clicks from the empty revolver and realized that I still had a chance, I felt a sudden flare of hope.

But—when I turned and saw Jacob—my hope transformed into certainty.

That the one boy I truly loved should be there—that he should come to me and hold out his hand.

Fate…

I had absolutely no doubt.

There would be no dying that day.

 

* * * *

 

Unfortunately, nobody told Brandon Keretsky.

He started toward Jacob and me, sword held high, ready to swing it toward our heads. Beside us, meanwhile, Tray was yelling for someone to bring her a gun that actually had bullets.

All around us, boys were popping up, along the stadium’s perimeter and in the stands. The scene became chaotic as the guys appeared in spaces girls already occupied.

There were screams and screeches, yells of anger and frustration.

Girls pushed guys out of their laps, while guys fell onto their faces or threw girls onto the ground to gain space; punches were thrown, kicks connected with shins and groins, blood began to flow.

To my horror, one guy in the stands, dressed only in jeans and riding boots, leaned over and bit Rachel on the shoulder. Beside her, Sue lashed out, punching the guy in the side of his head. Moments later, the three of them disappeared from my sight as a young boy tumbled down from the top of the bleachers, causing others to rise up and flee—obscuring my view.

 

* * * *

 

“Brandon, no!” It was Jacob who had yelled.

As we ran, I turned to see Brandon even closer than before, pushing through the ever-increasing crowd of kids now running out of the stands and onto the field.

“It’s over, Brandon!” cried Jacob. “Can’t you see that things have changed?!”

“Nothing’s changed,” hissed Brandon, not slowing at all.

If anything, he moved even faster, punching a kid in the gut whose only mistake was trying to run past him.

The boy fell to the ground, his body keeling over in such a way that it blocked Brandon’s path.

 

* * * *

 

“I want a fricking gun! Is it too much to ask, just one fricking gun!” This was Tray—pushing at girls as they raced by, grabbing others to quickly frisk them for weapons.

Jacob tugged on my hand, pulling me toward the main gate. “Come on, Kaylee! We need to get out of here…now!”

“No, no!” I cried, wrenching my hand out of his. “We have to get the others first!”

Without even looking back—trusting that the boy I loved would follow—I ran across the field to where I knew Jay, Jude, Peyton, and Cherry were still duct taped and shut up in the cage.

 

* * * *

 

There were even more kids on the field now—both boys and girls—running this way and that. They seemed to be trying to escape other oddly-dressed and tattooed boys who were chasing them.

Like wild, depraved chimpanzees, these wild boys jumped up and down as they ran after kids, squealing in excitement. One reached out and grabbed at me as I came near.

Immediately Jacob shot by me, his shoulder down, pushing the kid to the ground.

“Hurry, Kaylee!” Jacob yelled at me.

I ran even faster, sparing a fraction of a moment to look behind me. Brandon had disappeared into the crowd of kids flooding onto the football field. I could still see Tray, however, but even she was having difficulty maneuvering through the crowd toward us.

But—she was definitely trying.

 

* * * *

 

As Jacob and I reached the cage, shots broke out.

It appeared that more than one person was shooting guns over near the stands. Pandemonium reigned as boys and girls stumbled and fell, jumping down two or three levels at once, trying desperately to reach the field. They pushed and shoved at each other, not bothering to help anyone that fell—merely jumping or stepping over the flailing bodies.

 

* * * *

 

“Kaylee…I’m sorry!” cried Rowena, as I pushed her away from the cage door she was guarding. “I didn’t want to do it. The Foxes made me.”

In response, I punched her in the nose.

She went down, blood flying in all directions.

“Sorry, Rowena,” I barked at her. “But I did want to do that!”

 

* * * *

 

Once inside the cage, I pulled the duct tape off of Jay’s wrists and mouth. Meanwhile, Jacob had entered behind me and was working at freeing Jude. A few feet away, Peyton had already somehow freed herself and was tugging at the tape on Cherry’s wrists.

“We need to move fast,” Jacob told us. “There are too many people at the main gate—they’re bottlenecking—we won’t get out that way. So, we’ll head to the gate on the other side of the field.”

 

* * * *

 

“Ohmigod…it’s Jacob Riker!” whispered Jay, as we stepped out of the cage. “He’s actually here!”

“I know,” I grinned, whispering back. “And he knows who I am!”

And—even amid all the chaos and terror that was going on around us—Jay and I held each other’s hands and gave a little-girl squeal of delight.

 

* * * *

 

“Up there,” pointed Cherry. “See them?”

It was two guys, racing down the hill above Agoura High—as if descending from the giant ‘A’ the school had placed there. They had rifles in their arms and they were shooting as they ran.

“I think they’re from my tribe,” Jacob speculated. “But I’m not totally sure, so let’s get a move on it.”

We ran together—Cherry, Jude, Peyton, Jay, Jacob, and me—holding each other’s hands, so that we wouldn’t be separated by the surging crowd.

At one point, I looked back and realized that it had been a good decision not to attempt to reach the main gate. Someone had shut and locked it and kids there were now piling up, one on top of the other, desperately trying to escape.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

“There are shooters up on the stands!” yelled Jay. “See them…they’re wearing masks!” She pointed to three guys straddling the back wall, high up above the crowd—as if they had climbed up there from the street side. The guys all had rifles and were taking potshots at the kids racing around the football field.

“Over there on the roof of that portable,” warned Cherry. “There’s another masked guy there with a rifle!”

“Just keep moving!” I yelled, pushing a guy with a tattooed chest and a faux-mohawk out of my way. “Don’t look back anymore—just keep running!”

 

* * * *

 

We were ten feet away from the side gate when Brandon Keretsky suddenly pushed his way out from the crowd in front of us, holding a sword in his hands. He was breathing heavily, sweat running down his bald head, teeth bared at us in fury.

“Jacob,” he growled, “me and you haven’t danced, yet, bro.”

Immediately, Jude pulled away from our group—stepping between us and Brandon. “Hey, dumbnuts. See you got a new look. It’s stupid, by the way.”

“Jude!” I yelled. “No!!”

But—she didn’t move.

“Get everyone moving, Kaylee,” she ordered. “Let me dance with Brandon for a while…maybe bloody his nose again just for fun.”

“Is she serious?” said Brandon, actually looking confused. His sword lowered slightly and I took the moment to push Cherry and Peyton toward the gate. “Go!” I yelled. “You, too, Jay!”

The three of them ran off quickly.

Beside me, Jacob reached out to push Jude out of the way. She merely shrugged him off. “Today’s my 18th birthday, Jacob—and we know what that means. So, let me have this present, why don’t you?”

Brandon still wasn’t moving.

“Jude Engel?” he murmured, still not quite believing what he was seeing. “Like in Jude-the-Rude?!”

Jude ran her hands down her now slim, muscular body. “I know, right,” she said, proudly. “Somehow I got hot and you got uglier…sorry, dude.”

“You bitch!” Brandon snarled. And he dropped down and kicked his leg out and around, pivoting so it hooked behind Jude’s legs. She went down—onto her back, her head hitting the ground…hard.

Immediately, Brandon leapt forward, slamming his body full-length onto Jude’s. From where I stood, I could hear the ‘oof’ as Jude’s lungs were compressed and the air fled from her body.

 

* * * *

 

No matter how much I wanted to run off with Jacob, there was no way that I was going to leave Jude to fight Brandon alone.

Twisting my arm, I pulled sharply, freeing myself from Jacob’s grasp.

“Kaylee, no!” Jacob reached out for me, but he was too late. With a yell, I jumped onto Brandon’s back, my arms snaking around his neck.

“Let her go, you bully!” I screamed.

As easily as ridding himself of a gnat, Brandon stood up and threw me to the ground next to Jude. “Well, would you look at that?” he grinned, pointing his sword down at me. “Two for the price of one. Except you, young Kaylee…you, I think I’m going to keep.”

“Not while I’m still alive!” Jacob charged in, his head down low, barreling right into Brandon’s midsection. The big guy went over with a thud, his sword flying from his hand.

“Quickly!” yelled Jacob, holding out both of his hands. Jude took one and I took the other, and he yanked us onto our feet.

Moments later, we were racing toward the gate.

 

* * * *

 

Cherry, Peyton, and Jay were waiting at the side gate, worriedly scanning the chaos in front of them.

Jay saw us first. “Kaylee…over here!”

We raced toward them, pushing our way through the crowd.

As we ran, Jude reached out and smacked me on top of my head. “You should have left me, Barbie,” she scolded. “It’s not like I’m going to be here in a few hours anyway.”

“Shaddup!” I snapped. “We don’t leave family behind!”

 

* * * *

 

The bullet came from behind us—slamming into the ground at Cherry’s feet.

We all spun around—expecting Brandon—only to find a Hispanic kid, his face marred by a long scar, aiming an enormous gun at us.

“Say hello to my little friend,” he taunted.

But—before the kid could fire—an arrow came sizzling through the air, burrowing itself halfway up its shaft in the Hispanic’s shoulder. With a screech of pain, the kid dropped his gun and fell to the ground.

Peyton immediately raced forward and scooped up the gun, stopping only to deliver a solid kick to the kid’s groin.

“Say hello to my Jimmy Choo’s!” she snapped at him.

The guy’s only response was to curl up in a fetal position, moaning.

 

* * * *

 

“Over there!” said Jacob. “Up in that tree at the end of the field…that’s where the archer is!”

We were all huddled together at the gate, trying to figure out our next step. There were guys shooting at us from behind, a crowd of screaming kids all around, and now—someone taking potshots with a bow and arrow.

“Let’s head to those buildings over there,” I suggested. “We get around that corner and we should be out of everybody’s line of fire.”

Thwack…an arrow whizzed by my head.

“Kaylee!” yelled Jacob.

With a soft thunk, the arrow connected with someone behind us and a cry of fury and pain filled the air. We spun around to see Brandon, staggering toward us, the arrow sticking out of his right shoulder.

Thwack…another arrow whizzed by.

This one landed a foot lower than the first, passing straight through Brandon’s waist and coming out the other side.

Thwack…another arrow.

It was like watching in slow motion—Brandon collapsing to the ground as the arrow passed within millimeters of his right ear. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the sight, it all seemed so bizarre. It took Jacob grabbing me by the hand and pulling me away before I came to my senses.

“We have to go, Kaylee…NOW!”

 

* * * *

 

She must have seen us trying to escape, because Orla was waiting for us on the other side of the building. There was a machine gun in her hands and she was holding it up high. “Get down!” she yelled. “All of you—get down on the ground.”

With the exception of Jay, we all skidded to a stop.

“You, too, Jay,” cried Orla. “I’ll shoot you…I swear I will!”

But Jay didn’t stop.

Instead, she stalked right up to Orla and pulled the machine gun out of her hands. “Idiot…you’ve still got it on safety.”

And then Jay did something that I would never have expected from her. She turned the machine gun around and smacked Orla in the side of the head. It wasn’t hard enough to knock her out—but it definitely sent her stumbling, screeching in pain.

“You bitch!” Orla snarled, wiping at the angry tears that had appeared in her eyes.

“Whatever,” Jay mumbled, as she snapped the machine gun off of safety. Then, she turned to look at me, holding the weapon up high.

“Finally got my gun, Kaylee!” she said with pride.

 

* * * *

 

“Over here!” called a desperate voice. “Kaylee, hurry!”

It came from the indistinct shape of a girl—hidden in the shadows—motioning us toward a pathway that wound itself through the high school.

I knew that—if we followed the pathway to its end—we would come out near the main office.

We started running in that direction.

Halfway there, I finally recognized the girl. “Ohmigod…it’s Cammie!”

 

("365 Days At War" is available now for pre-order at your favorite online retailer.)