P.D. Atkerson: April 2021

Preorder here: Deadlock

Chapter 1

Spitting the blood out of his mouth, Gregory shoved himself back to his feet and turned toward his brother again. “That was a lucky shot,” he growled, wiping his hand across his mouth as they began to circle each other again. “One I don’t think you’ll be repeating.”

Grew shrugged. “It’s payback for all the times you gave me a bloody lip,” he said, smirking. “Hey! Maybe when we’re done people will think you’re me. I guess you’re not all that after all.” With that, Grew swung at Gregory again.

Dodging to the side, Gregory caught his brother by the arm. He brought his own arm up and pressed it against Grew’s, then he twisted around and shoved him toward the ground.

They both hit the mat, and Gregory quickly rolled onto the top of his twin. But before Gregory pinned him down, Grew brought his leg up and wrapped it around Gregory’s, then he twisted to the side and shoved Gregory off of him.

Gregory rolled back to his feet. A second later his twin brother followed suit, and they went at each other again. Dodging and swinging at each other, blocking punches with their forearms and kicking out at each other, Gregory and Grew fought like mortal enemies.

Finally, Gregory swept his leg around, hooked it around Grew, and shoved him back. He was upon him the second he hit the mat, but before he could do anything more than pin him down, Gregory began to grow dizzy. “Whoa,” he groaned, pressing his hand on his forehead as he leaned back and rested his head against the mat.

He wasn’t sure what happened, but the next thing he knew Grew was free and standing over him. “What’s wrong with him?” Grew asked, frowning as he glanced toward their instructor who was standing to the side of the mat.

Roman stepped forward and knelt beside Gregory. “Gregory, can you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“I… I can’t think straight,” Gregory said, grimacing as he slowly sat up. “Roman, what’s going on? You know, don’t you?”

His friend and mentor moved over to his things and picked his water bottle up. Roman twisted off the lid and sniffed it. “Ah… That explains it,” he mumbled, glancing over toward Gregory. “Congratulations, young Deadlock. It would appear it’s time for your testing.”

Gregory’s stomach lurched, and his head seemed to spin even more than before. “Are you sure?” Grew said, speaking Gregory’s exact thoughts. “But…” He frowned. “I’m the older brother, shouldn’t I be the one who’s tested first?”

Roman shook his head. “Don’t be daft,” he said. “You’re only older by a few minutes, and you know your father has never cared which one of you was born first.”

For as long as he could remember, Gregory had known this day was coming, but that didn’t mean he was really ready for it. But as another wave of dizziness hit him, Gregory was forced to lie down again. “Roman, I… I’m not ready!”

“You’re going to do fine,” Roman whispered, kneeling next to him as he grabbed Gregory’s arm and gave it a quick squeeze. “You’ve been training for this your whole life; I know you’re going to pass.”

“Right,” Gregory said, sighing as he closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to engulf him.

By the time Gregory came back to his senses, he found himself cuffed to a chair in the middle of a small stone room, with mildew in the air and water dripping down the walls. The only light came from the lights embedded deep into the roof, behind a thick piece of glass.

Looking around, Gregory realized there was nothing else inside the room, and the only exit was through the metal door in front of him. Then, as if caused by him noticing the door, there was the grinding sound of metal on metal as the door swung out, and one man entered the room.

He had a short trimmed beard and dark eyes that bore into Gregory as he moved to stand in front of him, his hands clasped behind his back, a handgun sticking out from under his jacket.

Gregory’s body stiffened as he gave the man a small nod and held his head up high. “Father.”

“Hello, Gregory,” his father said, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowned at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been drugged and cuffed to a chair,” Gregory said, forcing himself to smile up at his father. “Thanks for asking.”

He gave a sharp nod before reaching under his jacket and pulling out a file. He flipped it open and pulled a picture out.

“This man is known as the ‘Preacher’,” he said, holding the picture of a man in his early twenties out so Gregory could see it. “I want you to memorize his face because he will be your first target. He’s caused us quite a bit of trouble, and for your test, you’re going to make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble, by killing him. Fail, and I never want to see your face again.”

Gregory swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Father,” he said. “I won’t fail.”

His father nodded as he put the picture and file away and moved toward the door. “You have ten minutes,” he said, glancing around as his hand wrapped around the handle. “Before this room fills completely with water. The door will be locked, and you’ll need to find a way out before you drown. I’d say good luck, but you’re a Deadlock; you shouldn’t need it.”

With that, Gregory’s father shoved the door open and stepped out. The second the door closed behind him, water began to rapidly pour down the walls. That explains the smell, Gregory thought.

Moving quickly, Gregory slipped his arms free from the cuffs and jumped to his feet, his combat boots splashing in the water that was already starting to pool at his feet.

The door was obviously the only way out since there weren’t any other doors or windows. But if it was locked, how was he going to get through it? He hurried over to the door and looked it over. It didn’t take him long to realize they’d given him everything he’d needed.

The water was already soaking into his pants up to his knees as Gregory reached toward the bottom door hinge, bolted to the wall. He took the handcuffs that had held him to the chair and pressed them together around the bolt, working them like a wrench.

Gritting his teeth, he began to twist the handcuffs around. Slowly, the bolt began to move and twist out of the wall. By the time he was finishing the bottom hinge, the water had already passed it by a foot, and his jacket was soaked all the way up his sleeves.

Splashing through the water, Gregory moved back toward the chair and grabbed it. Shoving the chair up against the door, Gregory scrambled up onto it and taking the handcuffs, he set to work again.

The water was freezing, and Gregory soon found himself shivering as he fought to keep a grip on the handcuffs. But after what felt like a lifetime, he finally pulled the last bolt out of the wall.

With shaking hands, he shoved the bolts and handcuffs into his pockets as the water level reached his shoulders, and he shoved off from the chair. He kept his face just above the water as it continued to rise, faster with every second.

It wouldn’t be much longer before the room was completely filled, and he knew it. Still, he waited until the very last second before Gregory gulped in as much air as his lungs could hold and dropped beneath the surface just before it reached the roof.

Swimming deeper under the water, Gregory shoved the chair away from the door, then lay on his back and planted his foot against the door. Making sure to hold his breath, Gregory brought his legs back and slammed them back against the door. It vibrated, and Gregory saw a couple of bubbles, but it didn’t break the suction.

By now, Gregory’s lungs had started to burn as he brought his legs back again. He repeated this several times, each time taking much more effort than the time before. Then finally, with one more solid kick, the door broke free from the doorframe and fell away. And the next second, Gregory was swept forward by the water rushing out of the room.

He slammed against something solid and was knocked out before he saw what was on the other side of the door.

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