Read Dream Chasers (Dystopian Scifi Series Book 1) for Free Online Page A

slammed open, and in came the cleanup men
with mops, buckets, and trash bags. They were going to wipe his friend away,
put his punctured body in a trash bag.
    ‘What’s missing from the Dream
Machine?’ Midori Kuro asked.
    Peter heard this question while
gazing at his friend’s face being kicked with a broom, his lips bobbing forward,
blood frothing out each time. He contemplated sharply what the fuck he had
gotten himself into. A knock on his shoulder. It was Midori asking the same
question: what is missing from the Dream Machine? ‘Are you going to kill
me?’
    Of course he was, a thought
laughed.
    ‘Kill you?’ He snickered
through closed lips. His dragon arm slithered around Peter’s neck and tightened
until it was like a father’s arm giving comfort. ‘You are part of us now,
Peter. Look around you. Tell me what you see?’
    Peter looked at his dead frie—
    Who was not on the floor anymore.
He was fetused into a bag. That’s right, Peter thought. Fetused:
squeezed and molded into a fetus position. Someone tried picking up the trash
bag and had a hard time doing so. Another man joined in to help. Both carried
the bag away, leaving a trail of red watery drops. The mop crew started doing
their job.
    ‘Where are they taking my
friend?’
    ‘I have already told you,
Peter, stop thinking about the past.’ How long was this nice-guy act going to
last? That gun on his hip was the same as the other ones; the ones that sounded
like a spray of thunder. Get your shit together, Peter thought. Get your shit
together now.
    Peter eyed the Dream Machine
and said he didn’t know. His heart scraped at his chest. His friend was dead.
He was going to die. What was he doing here? What did he get himself into? There
was—
    Midori pushed Peter against the
steel bed, a forceful one that made the steel frame shake. Time was up; the
time for idle chatter and pleasantries a thing of the past. The side of Peter’s
hip throbbed. He thought Midori was going to push him again and readied himself
mentally, eyes closed. But then the sound of a click, and Peter knew what that
was. He opened his eyes and turned, hips aching.
    ‘See my finger?’ Midori asked,
tapping the gun’s trigger. ‘All I have to do is give this … some pressure. And
you’ll look like your friend, holes and holes. Is that what you want?’
    The machine gun’s snout was a
tiny hole. Something so little, Peter thought, with so much potential for
chaos. Staring at the gun brought a fresh, horrible awareness to surface, one
that made him want to faint.  
    With a click, he could be gone.
    Peter tried his best to forget
about his dead friend and mustered enough courage to look Midori in the eye.
‘What do you want from me?’
    ‘You work for us now.’ The gun
lowered. ‘You will do as the Yaramati tells you to do. Is that clear?’ Silence.
He waved his gun at the steel frame. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to go through a
little initiation. Think of it as an interview.’
    To Peter’s horror, a gun fired.
The bang made his head jolt up. The first thing he did was study his
legs, chest, and face for any holes. He patted his neck and heard another bang!
bang! He turned his head and saw the ball shooting through the hoop.
    Midori must’ve found this
funny, because he was looking at the roof and laughing. He cut his laughter
short and waved his gun at the Dream Machine. ‘You ready for the interview?’
    Each time they bounced the ball
on the court, Peter felt his heart throb. ‘What interview?’
    ‘ Listeeen , listeeen ,’
Midori said, pronouncing each word with a smile. ‘You should feel proud. You
are the Yaramti’s Dream Chaser. But first, we need to see if Ohko was right about
you. He said you had a good imagination, that you’d be a great candidate for
our newest asset. Now tell me, Peter, do you have a good imagination?’
    He was going to Dream Chase. He
was starting to see where this was heading. The interview Midori spoke of was
going to be his