The 3

Chapter One: Life is Good

WARNING:

THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXTREME VIOLENCE, GORE, SEXUAL CONTENT, DRUG ABUSE, AND LANGUAGE. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Devin woke up slowly. He was laying in a pile of his own shit. He was tangled in the thin sheets of his lumpy bed. He had been staying in a tiny shack in the middle of the boonies for the better part of a month. The shack had only one room. It had a bed, a rug with a broken La-Z-Boy on it, and a counter with a sink in it. The sink didn't work though, as there was no running water in the shack. Devin grabbed his bedsheets and used them to wipe his ass. He then stood up and walked out onto the small porch. He sat down on the wooden rocking chair in front of the shack and stared at the sky. He spent most days doing that. He saw a cuckster roaming around in the distance. He didn't want it to see him, but he didn't make much of an effort to hide from it either. He didn't have any guns, only his hatchet. Suddenly, his face felt hot. A tear ran down his cheek. He wiped it quickly, as if he was trying to hide it from someone. But there was no one around. He stood up and stumbled back into the shack. He grabbed the hatchet and held the blade against his wrist. He hesitated but then began cutting himself. Before he hit the vein though, he heard a truck engine from outside. He quickly stopped what he was doing and ran out the door. A red pickup truck was driving down the dirt road toward the shack. He flailed his arms around, trying to get their attention. They stopped the truck. There was a man driving and two other men sitting in the back. They all climbed out and looked confused when they saw Devin. He was only wearing his underwear, which was now a yellow and brown colour. All three of the men were holding assault rifles with silencers on the ends. They weren't pointing the guns at Devin, but they were ready to shoot if something happened. "What the hell happened to you?" Asked one of the men. They all had very greasy looking hair. It looked as if they poured an entire bottle of hair gel onto their heads. "You guys got names?" Devin asked them. "Yeah, I'm Jared, this is Cole, and this is Max." One of them said. Jared was somewhat tall and well built. Cole was short and skinny. Max was pale, with short black hair. "Great, I don't care." Devin said impatiently "I need your help." The three men looked confused. "Help with what?" Asked Max. "We're gonna overthrow a fucking community." Devin said. "Uh, that sounds kinda dangerous." Cole said, worried. "Oh, c'mon." Devin said "What's the worst that could happen?"

Tyson opened his eyes. He got out of bed and walked over to the window. It was broad daylight, meaning he had slept in again. Some of the prisoners were tending to the gardens. Their ankles were chained together. After the war, the group found about a dozen soldiers cowering inside the factory. The soldiers surrendered so they took them in as prisoners. There were also a ton of guns and even some grenades at Sanctum so they took those as well. They also brought a bunch of the crops from The Horse Girl's farm back to Cuckluck Acres. Right now, they didn't hav a barn or stable, so they had to hitch the horses to a fence in the park. Tyson got dressed and headed downstairs. He walked out the front door and saw Christopher rolling down the sidewalk in his wheelchair. The guard tower at Sanctum had collapsed and fallen onto his legs. He had just barely survived but he could never walk again. "Hey Tyson!" He called from the other side of the road. "Hey Christopher!" Tyson shouted back. Despite his horrible accident, Christopher had seemed somewhat cheery recently. Tyson supposed it was because he was so lucky to even be alive. Tyson walked over to the crops to see how they were growing. There was already a community garden in Cuckluck Acres so they had soil to plant. They had been growing carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, beets, and Kiefer even had his own spot to grow his weed. Naona was standing next to the prisoners, making sure none of them tried to run away. But so far, all of them had been behaving very well. They didn't seem like they wanted to leave or hurt anybody. They enjoyed life in Cuckluck Acres. "What the fuck is up, shitters?" Ryan asked, walking up behind Tyson. "Hi, Ryan. Any news?" Tyson greeted him. "Kiefer and Leah are out on a supply run, Halle is still setting up the medical tent, and Nick and Ella are having a fucking picnic for some reason." Ryan told him. Tyson looked over Ryan's shoulder and saw Ella and Nick sitting on a blanket with a basket of food. "Give me the ketchup, bitch." Nick demanded. "Get it yourself and smash it over your own fucking head and die." Ella insulted him back. They continued arguing back and forth throughout their entire lunch. "They've been fighting a lot lately, huh?" Tyson noted. "Yeah. I guess tensions have been really high ever since the war." Ryan agreed. Tyson solemnly looked to the side at CJ's grave. They buried him next to the others at the back of the park. "So, how is Halle's medical tent coming?" Tyson asked, trying to take his mind off of CJ. "Good. It should be done in a few days. Hopefully Kiefer and Leah find more medicine on their run." Ryan told him. On one of the group's supply runs, they had found a fumigation tent on a house. A couple of cucksters were trapped inside. Their rotten skin was covered with bumps and warts from the poison gas. They took the tent and brought it back to Cuckluck Acres and now Halle was using it as a medical tent. They found a whole bunch of medical equipment at Sanctum so they were prepared for almost anything. Halle had also been sharpening her skills by practicing amputations and other operations on dead cucksters. "You think we'll ever see Devin again?" Tyson asked suddenly. Ryan thought about this. "Maybe." He said "And if we do, we'll kick his ugly ass."