Debunked

Freedom Dawn Press This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of theauthor’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Debunked Published by Freedom Dawn Press Copyright 2016 T. Smith & C. Justice Freedom Dawn Press Private Edition, License NotesThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or givenaway to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchasean additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, pleasepurchase your own copy or show your support by purchasing another title by this author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Debunkedby T. Smith and C. Justice Freedom Dawn Press

Marx walked slowly to the kitchen. There was an oven in the place. Marx had seen it. Ovenshad gone out years, maybe even a decade earlier. Whoever built the bunker must have had it inthe works for a long time before it was ever needed. Marx wondered what had happened to them.Why were their bodies littered inside the place like trash? The strange part--the strangest part--was that Swan had nearly tripped over a pile of body bags just after they'd shut themselves intothe underground vault. The bags had been sitting out in the open as if someone had intended touse them but never got around to it. Marx, Rollo and Jonah had gone back out and sealed thebodies up in the bags. It was easy. The bags were top grade, made to operate on contact. Theyjust threw the bags like sheets over the stiff bodies and the material encased them. Putting thedead people in the bags would keep animals and people away for a while. There were eight ofthem. The women provided good eating. In truth, whoever had built and stocked the placeprovided good eating. The women cooked it. Steaks, potatoes, fresh loaves of bread and somevegetable thing were served up in less than 45 minutes. It had been days since they'd had a goodmeal, so they prepared enough for three times their number. Ona had already started goingthrough the dried goods and packing up stuff for them to take with them. She put on some musicbefore joining them at the table. The song was an old song that most of them knew. The singer,with tempered power, started by singing about pouring rain. Ona always played that song. Shehad a thing about rain. \"How'd you do this so fast?\" someone asked. The \"you\" who had done it was Welo with Ariel's assistance. How had she gotten everythingto the table so fast, they wanted to know. Welo grinned and pointed to something that looked likethe old cookers. The lights on it were still blinking. \"I cooked for some movie stars a few times that used one of those. It will cook anything inless than an hour. I never thought I would ever see one again.\" Harry spoke with a mouth full of food. \"You cooked for a living?\" \"Once upon a time. I was a chef.\" \"Yeah, you've seen how she handles a knife,\" Marx said with a laugh while he stacked hisplate. \"Don't mess with Welo,\" some of them said. Welo smiled ironically. The table sat seven. Welo and Harry shared a chair. Rollo and Ona sat together on the wide,schizophrenic, marble counters. Ariel offered to give up her chair at the table for Marx. Herefused even though her plate was already empty. \"We could stay down here,\" Ona said. The statement had been directed at Rollo. Everyone heard it, however. They'd all beenthinking the same thing, perhaps. \"You know that's crazy, right? You know people already died in here, right?\" Rollo's comments opened up a new line of discussion. What had caused the deaths of thepeople they'd found? Someone thought they might have lost their cool underground and gonemurder-suicide. Harry said that he'd seen no signs of foul play. \"Foul play?\" Welo gave him a hard look. \"What were you? A Cop?\" Harry sipped from his long-stemmed glass. \"Once upon a time.\" Each person in the group looked around at the others. They knew little about one anotherand the lives they had previously lived. After all, their former lives only had relevance in the

brief moments when someone mentioned the way things used to be. That had all been destroyedin the final countdown. Now, they were tomb-raiders--nothing more, nothing less. Chen grunted. \"Out of here in the morning, right? Maybe we should save the mystery foranother time after we get far from here.\" \"Let's give it a week,\" Cortez said with a laugh. \"Then we can see who has the bestexplanation.\" The whole room burst into laughter. Cortez had a way of turning everything into acompetition. She had a way of motivating everyone. Whereas most of them unintentionallybrought a negative cloud over everything, Cortez made everything seem fun. None of them couldhave suggested figuring out what had killed a bunch of people without seeming sick-minded.When Cortez said it, it sounded like a great idea. \"What's the prize, Cortez?\" Jonah asked. Cortez did not answer. She just gave him a look. Rolled cleared his throat. \"Seems like she already picked the winner.\" There were more laughs and people shifted around the table as they got up to get more food,more drinks or just to avoid being static. They all had a tendency to move a lot and to fidget.There was always anxiety beneath everything they did. They had to always be on guard. \"I know what happened to them. The machines killed them.\" Ariel had spoken suddenly while they were still laughing. She had gotten up from the tableand moved to the sink. There was something like a window there. The scenery on the other sideof it was fake. In fact, the image changed from time to time. One image was of a snowy field.Another was of desert hills and there even appeared to be sand flying toward the glass. Anotherwas of a cloudy sky, as if the structure was built high above ground rather than below it. Arielwas staring at the images in that funny way. Marx had noticed her when he sat down at the tablewith a replenished plate of food. He'd hoped that the quaint scenes alone had captivated her, asunlikely as that had seemed. The room quieted again. Heads bowed. Some of them touched others of them to offercomfort. It was the worst time to unnerve everyone, as she had a habit of doing. Marx spoke up. \"Why don't we go talk about it,\" he said. He stood up from the table. Ariel did not move. \"The machines killed them right here.\" \"The machines killed them,\" Chen repeated. \"What does that mean?\"»Do you like this beginning? Share this with your friends and be sure to visit fdpreads.tk Also read the beginning of this story by Lou Cox. This guy thinks he knows what he wants until an exclusive group of players introduce him to a dark, detached world.»Do you like this beginning? Share this with your friends and be sure to visit fdpreads.tk