Breakdown: Season One by Jordon Quattlebaum Read Free Book Online Page A

across the street. He glanced left and noticed an attacker taking aim. The guy looked like a kid, no older than his Anna. He dove, then, and instead of coming up in a roll like an action hero, he ended up cracking his shoulder and elbow hard on the pavement, sending a jolt up his arm, causing it to go numb from the elbow down.
    Rising quickly, he winced as a chunk of brick powdered beside his head, stinging his vulnerable eyes with its dust. Diving into the dumpster, Thom covered himself in trash as far as he could burrow.
    The explosions were starting to die down, and Thom could still hear the pursuers searching for him. The dumpster stank of rot, but it beat being dead.
    Finally, he calmed his breathing, sure they’d hear him if he couldn’t get himself together.
    Gunshots rang out, and Thom selfishly hoped whoever it was would lead them off of his trail. They seemed a bit farther away this time.
    Sitting there, quite literally covered in filth for what seemed like an eternity, he began to hyperventilate again. There was something about the smell and the enclosed space. He needed to get out, but it took ages before he could gather the courage to lift the lid and peek out.
    Thom had to get out of there, and he hoped the gunmen weren’t already blocking the bridges out of town yet.
    Taking a deep breath (a mistake, in hindsight; it smelled of everything rotten in the world), he steeled himself to exit the bin.
    That’s when the hand thrust in and grabbed Thomas Monroe by the hair.

Chapter 2 — Anna’s First Night

    Anna finally collapsed into her bed around 1am, covered in soot, her mouth tasting of ash. She’d spent most of her night manning a bucket brigade to put out some of the numerous fires around campus.
    The cinderblock walls did little to drown out the noise from the outside world, so she pulled her thick down comforter up over her head.
    The knob of the door leading into her dorm room rattled, and she held her breath, hoping whoever it was would pass. Her heart beat in her chest as if it were trying to escape; she pulled the blankets around her tighter than before, as if a layer of fabric filled with goose down would somehow shield her from an attacker.
    She had the presence of mind to move her dresser and desk against the door before climbing into bed, but she was so completely bone-weary that she knew she’d have little chance fighting someone off if they made it past her rudimentary blockade.
    I wish Dad was here , she thought to herself for the millionth time as the person in the hall continued to test the knob, and then stopped. Footsteps continued down the hallway.
    She exhaled quietly, relieved that whoever it was had moved on for the time being. Break-ins weren’t exactly common in the dorm rooms, but there were folks like this who tested locks. A person would head down the hall for five minutes to buy a Coke from the vending machine, get back, and find her phone or laptop missing. It was a constant reminder for residents to always have their doors locked, even when they were inside.
    Suddenly, there was a loud crash against the door, and then another. Someone was trying to break his way through. Scanning the room for any sort of weapon she could use, Anna settled on a lamp her grandfather had helped her make before his passing. It was made from a bowling pin from her seventh birthday party. Her grandfather had been an electrical contractor and had introduced her to the power of electricity. He was the reason she wanted to be an engineer.
    Unplugging the lamp, she wound the cord around her left fist, took out the bulb, and stripped off the shade. The doorframe gave way with the third crash, and the assailant began to push through the barricade.
    Anna struck the bowling pin lamp against the edge of the bookshelf, snapping off the fixture for the lightbulb. She wound the cord around the narrow end of the pin and used the remainder to tie her hand to the weapon. She’d go down fighting.
    A fourth