Betrayed by Family. Tortured by the Enemy. Destined to Destroy the World.
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About the Book
Ultraxenopia
Project W.A.R. Book One
by M.A. Phipps
Published 1 August 2017
7 Sisters Publishing
Genre: YA Dystopian
Page Count: 344
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Betrayed by Family. Tortured by the Enemy. Destined to Destroy the World.
Wynter Reeves lives by three rules: Don’t stand out. Blend in. Remain invisible. In a world where individuality is dangerous, being forgettable keeps her alive.
Until she begins showing signs of a rare disease, drawing the unwanted attention of the State’s sinister research facility, the DSD. Apprehended against her will for testing, Wynter becomes the subject of the mysterious Dr. Richter, who is determined to make sense of her condition.
However, Dr. Richter’s intentions are less than noble, and after months of horrifying experimentation, Wynter jumps at the chance to escape her captors. But freedom isn’t what she expected, and as her symptoms worsen, she must make a choice. One that will determine not only her future…
But the fate of the world.
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Excerpt
“This isn’t how it looks.”
“Is that so?” he sneers. “Because, from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re one of them.”
“I’m not.” My protest is weak and unconvincing, even to my own ears.
He pushes the cold barrel of the gun against my right temple, sending a shudder through my body, which rocks me right down to my marrow. He takes a step closer, lowering his voice to a venomous snarl. “And why should I believe you?”
I tense my jaw, spitting my response through clenched teeth. “If I was one of them, reinforcements would already be here.”
The State doesn’t play games. As a member of PHOENIX, he must know that better than anyone. The State wouldn’t waste time sending in a single person to clear out this bar when it could more efficiently get the job done by sending a whole team to exterminate the lot. If I was one of them, the Enforcers would already be here.
If I was one of them, he would already be dead.
A flicker of doubt crosses his face, and he wavers. The point of his gun moves away from my skin, coaxing an unbidden whimper from my throat. His eyes cling to mine, making my heart beat even faster.
“We can’t take any chances,” an older man grumbles behind him. “We should kill her to be sure.”
Terror shreds my composure to pieces as Ezra pushes the gun against my forehead again. “How do you know my name?” he presses.
I stare at him, unsure how to answer that question. He won’t believe the truth—not yet, anyway. And if I lie, that’ll only give him cause to shoot me.
I swallow again, trying to push down the rising lump in my throat intent on choking me. My tongue feels too big for my mouth, and I can’t seem to remember how to breathe properly let alone speak.
A shadow spreads across Ezra’s face, seeping into the details of the bar and casting the world around me in a muted gray darkness. My fingers reach for the counter to steady myself, but my hand doesn’t find the edge.
As I sway, Ezra takes a reflexive step back, his expression switching from anger to horror. My vision doubles as I follow his line of sight to the growing puddle of red on the floor by my feet.
My eyes drift down to my wrist, noting the red staining the sleeve of Dr. Richter’s white coat. I’ve bled through the bandage, I realize, my thoughts hazy. Looks like blood loss will be what kills me.
I should’ve known what I did would catch up with me. I was stupid to think this would end any other way but with me dead.
My knees buckle, and I stagger forward a step. As I search for something to focus on, I see Ezra…just like he was in my vision. Everything about him is exactly the same. His face. His hair. Those hazel eyes. But unlike the vision, there are no tears. And why would there be? We don’t know each other.
He won’t cry for me when I die.
I stumble again and collapse to the floor, the bar vanishing into the dark void of blood loss. Arms snake around me, breaking my fall, warm against my shivering body. A sob escapes my throat at their touch.
Unconsciousness creeps in at the edges of my vision, but flickers of Ezra’s face—present and future—help to keep me awake. He must’ve been the one who caught me. He shouts over his shoulder at someone behind him, but I can’t make out what he says. His hands are covered with blood. My blood. A pressure pushing down on my wrist makes me moan.
All at once, the pain and fear are both gone, and when Ezra looks down at me, doubt flooding those haunted eyes, I can’t help it. I smile. Maybe I do it because I’m delirious, or maybe I’m just relieved I won’t have to face death alone. I don’t really know. And it doesn’t really matter. Not anymore.
“I saw you,” I breathe, pressing a bloodied hand to his cheek, just as the world goes black.
About the Author
M. A. PHIPPS is an American author who resides near the ocean in picturesque Cornwall with her husband, daughter, and their Jack Russell, Milo. A lover of the written word, it has always been her dream to become a published author, and it is her hope to expand into multiple genres of fiction.
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Oh wow, this one sounds great!