Schism (42 page)
When she reached the prison’s main entry, the chaos stemming from the loss of power enabled her to blend in with the commotion of disoriented guards bumping into one another, and without any further obstacles, she squeezed beyond the last door and emerged into the night.
The cold air hit her lungs and invigorated her body. The Hudson River was a mere hundred yards west, and the moisture in the air was instantly perceptible. It was the first fresh breath she had inhaled in weeks. The sky was crisp and clear, and the light from the waxing moon was enough to illuminate her path to the car.
Her brain extinguished the interior prison map and shifted attention to the exterior map. She raced through the narrow parking lot to the footbridge that crossed over the train tracks running north and south outside the prison compound. Once on the other side of the footbridge, she headed south along the tracks for almost a mile. The buildings and trees on her right faded away until there was just a thin strip of dirt between the tracks and the river.
Though weak from nearly two months of incarceration and insufficient food and water, her will propelled her forward as she hopped between the tracks. She stared down at the wooden ties in order to maintain her footing until she passed the old Scarborough Post Office on her left and a tiny parking lot squeezed between the train tracks and the river on her right. The lot was empty except for a red SUV sitting alone in the dark.
Andy hopped off the tracks and ran to the vehicle, out of breath, and reached into her pocket to retrieve the key. Within a minute, she was steering the SUV east across a small bridge that ran over the train tracks. She drove for a few miles to distance herself from the prison before pulling over along a quiet residential street. She opened the glove compartment and retrieved three different maps and a short handwritten note. After reading the note, she poured over the maps and spotted her final destination, marked with a red X on the third map. The location surprised her.
In the back of the car, she found the food and water, nearly frozen, beneath a winter coat, a hat, and gloves. Also in the trunk were three five-gallon cans filled with gasoline. Now armed with warmth and sustenance, she read over the maps once more and used the route highlighted by her friends.
An hour and two bottles of water later, she pulled off the highway and into a strip mall with a drugstore. She went inside the drugstore and began to scour the shelves with her flashlight. Her bladder was about to burst, but she did her best to ignore the intense discomfort until she found what she was looking for.
When she finally found the right shelf, it was empty. Desperate, she got down on all fours and flashed the light underneath. To her surprise, not one but two boxes of what she wanted were beneath the shelf. After removing her gloves, she pressed her cheek against the dirty carpet and strained her left arm under the shelf until her fingertips barely brushed the first box. With her insides screaming for relief, she freed the box and strained once more for the second, and just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, her hand achieved a precarious hold on the second box. With a grunt, she finally secured it and scrambled to her feet.
The bathroom door of the drugstore was locked and there was no time to find the key. She ran back outside and turned on the SUV’s ignition. After flicking on the headlights, she glanced once at her surroundings before squatting down in front of the vehicle. Her bare hands struggled in the cold to open the two boxes. Inside each were two sticks wrapped in plastic. After tearing apart the plastic from each stick, she gathered all four exposed sticks in her left hand and yanked her filthy jeans and underwear down around her ankles with her right.
Though air chilled her bare skin, the urge to relieve her bladder was far greater. After adjusting her position, she carefully aimed the stream of urine on each stick before tossing them aside on the ground. After pulling her pants back on, she paced around the parking lot and waited.
As the minutes ticked by, she grabbed one of the empty boxes and read over the instructions on the back. Then she picked up the first stick.
The pregnancy indicator in the middle displayed an unmistakable symbol.
END OF BOOK ONE
Epilogue
January 2024
With an average of a quarter-million vehicles crossing between Virginia and Maryland daily, the Woodrow Wilson Bridge was once a traffic nightmare for residents of the Washington DC Metropolitan area. More than a mile long, the bridge spanned the Potomac River at the southern end of the Capital Beltway.
Riding a motorcycle, Chad’s was the only moving vehicle in sight as he headed east from Virginia into Maryland. The rusted-out skeletons of dozens of abandoned cars, trucks, and SUVs still littered the highway in both directions of the bridge; permanent reminders of a past that would never return.
Chad zoomed ahead a few more miles beyond the bridge as a cold, winter rain pelted his helmet and jacket. He exited the Beltway and made his way onto Andrews Air Force Base. After parking his bike within a particular hangar, he walked beneath the canopy before stopping directly in front of a UH-1N Iroquois twin-engine helicopter. Daunting in size and scope, the helicopter stood in the same position as it had for over six years, seemingly frozen in time. As he stared up at the impressive machine, a rare emotion stirred in Chad: fear.
The aircraft seemed to be taunting him, almost daring him or anyone who gazed at it to give it a spin. Without realizing it, he took a step backward. He’d never flown in an airplane before, let alone a helicopter. The sound of an approaching vehicle pulled his attention away, and he glanced at his watch.
Five minutes early.
Resorting to habit, Chad reached into his back pocket and pulled out his knife. He began flipping it back and forth between his hands as three people exited the SUV and approached. Two were boys, Brandon and Calvin, each around sixteen or seventeen and both Infantry officers reassigned to Chad. The third individual was a tough-looking girl about the same age. She had shorter, dark hair and wide brown eyes, and she seemed to wear a permanent smirk.
“Megan?” Chad asked as the girl drew closer.
The girl gave a half-hearted nod. “Yeah, that’s me.” She didn’t regard Chad, or anything else except the helicopter towering before her. She walked around it slowly, touching a few rivets and joints here and there, her eyes examining the aircraft studiously. “It’s not in terrible shape, but it’ll take some time to fix,” she declared after completing a lap. “I should have it running again in…a month. Two, at most.”
Chad raised his eyebrows skeptically. “A month? You better not be messing with me.”
“Maybe two,” she quickly repeated before turning back to the aircraft. “You got someone who can fly this thing?”
Chad looked at the two boys, one of whom nodded. “Let me worry about that.”
Megan shrugged. “Whatever, but I can’t be a hundred percent sure that everything’s working without a pilot. Got it?”
Chad took a deep breath. She was right, but instead of relenting, he forced a smile. “This is one of Sean’s highest priorities right now, so let’s just get it done fast.”
Acknowledgments
There are a few people who have helped me out during this whole process that I’d like to thank:
Katrina, for supporting me from the very beginning.
Buzz, for your watchful eye and attention to detail.
Ally, for working through all the tough spots with me.
And my parents, for always supporting me...no matter what.
A Conversation with Britt Holewinski
- When did you start writing? Why?
I began writing when I was seventeen, beginning with the story that would eventually become
Schism
. I had just finished reading
Lord of the Flies
, and my mind became fascinated with the idea of a world without adults and only children to figure out how to live and survive. Then the characters of Andy and Ben began to form in my mind, and I couldn’t let the idea go. I had to write it down. Before then, I had never attempted to write even a short story. I jumped right into the notion of writing a book…and more. - What is your favorite dystopian movie or book? Favorite book turned into a movie?
While
Lord of the Flies
may have inspired
Schism
, my favorite dystopian book is
Fahrenheit 451
by Ray Bradbury. Books and words are the foundation of modern human history, and to imagine them being erased from our daily lives is terrifying. Bradbury captured this fear perfectly.Though not a movie, the 1995 television adaptation of
Pride and Prejudice
with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle is something I watch at least once a year. Not only is it one of my favorite books, but the series remains faithful to the novel while still allowing for some interpretation and creative license. If a book is loved by its readers, why change the story for film? Viewers want to see a director’s own vision of the book, and changing the plot is always confusing to me. - How did your background in working for the CIA help you come up with the premise of a government-engineered virus outbreak in Schism?
I joined the CIA a few months after September 11, 2001. The focus of my work for the majority of my career was helping to counter global terrorism. Almost all terrorists are adult-aged males. The idea that the US government—or any government—would try to create a virus that quickly killed adult males was inspired by my experience working in Iraq and Afghanistan.
- What will happen next for Andy? Will Ben survive?
Andy has very difficult times ahead, even more so than what she experienced in the first book. She will need to rely on her friends and her own internal strength and doggedness to not only keep her alive, but also to keep her sane.
Ben’s future looks bleak, doesn’t it? Drugs take a terrible toll on both the body and the mind, and it remains unknown how much more he can withstand this forced addiction. But this is Ben, after all, and he’s survived tragedy before. His chances of pulling through are better than most.
About the Author
Maria Rock | www.mariarockphotography.com
Britt Holewinski
was inspired to write
Schism
more than twenty years ago after reading William Golding’s
Lord of the Flies
in high school. After studying mechanical engineering at the University of Notre Dame and Pennsylvania State University, she joined the CIA during the months following 9/11. Besides traveling for her job, she has visited nearly every location she has written about for current and future works, to include Bermuda, Paris, and the Channel Islands.
Britt is currently working on the next book in her
Schism
series.
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