Everything was normal that day. Well, as normal as life could get in the New World. Sam had been living in the woods for a while now, with his boyfriend Jamie, his brother Cal, and the rest of their little group, who'd all found eachother in the forest. They'd managed to escape shortly after the New Government, after they had taken over, after they'd planned on turning every living being into mindless, brainless slaves.

But Sam and his group had found somewhere to live, to survive. It was uncomfortable, but it was better than becoming one of, what Sam liked to call, the Suits, for once the authorities took you, you became their slave, and they put you in suits, like tuxedos, but expecting you to hunt down every survivor. Survivors were expected to come willingly, to get the operation, and if not, they would be killed, just like his parents and little sister Monica.

When the world changed, Sam's parents decided they would leave. The four of them had decided to leave. They'd packed their stuff up, and began filling the car, when Jamie had came running in. He was crying. His parents had been shot dead by men in Suits, and he'd hid in the closet and managed to escape. Before Sam had a chance to do anything, the Suits had turned up at his door. Cal came to see Sam, and the trio sneaked downstairs, to see their parents arguing with the Suits. Then they'd both been shot, Monica too. Sam, Cal and Jamie ran in a state of shock. They'd took the car, and they escaped.

Sam had decided he'd rather be killed than become one of them.

But then everything changed.

Sam had inisted on being alone that day. He had been filling up a rusted metal bucket from the river, clear water lapping over the tape on his black, almost brown, converse, when he'd heard a bloodcurdling scream. Everything went into slow motion, especially when he heard the gunshots. Sam's heart sank. Another scream. Another gunshot. Jamie? Cal?

Beads of perspiration had collected on his forehead, and Sam decided to breathe. He dropped the bucket into the water, the weight of it causing it to stay still rather than be carried away by the current : he could leave that until later. Then, Sam proceeded to run the three miles towards their makeshift camp.

How did they find out about here? Sam thought, as he ran throught the trees. How?

Another gunshot.

Sam's heart was sinking further ; it took him a moment to realise that he could not breathe. But at that moment, Sam didn't really care if he could breathe or not : he needed to know if everyone was safe, he needed to save them.

He reached the oak tree marked with an orange X, and dug around the roots to find his handgun and some bullets. Cal had insisted on hiding it in case something happened. Lucky. Hands shaking, Sam placed the bullets in the gun, and took it off safety. Sam tried not to imagine Cal's and Jamie's dead, bloody bodies. His black, mud-clodded hoody had fallen off one shoulder, but Sam just ignored it.

He was still shaking.

Sam wiped a tear from his eye. He couldn't get upset, not yet, he didn't even know if the Suits had found them. Maybe Cal had seen a deer? He was the only experienced hunter in their small group ; he'd been the one to teach Sam and Jamie to use a gun, in an emergency. But Cal had forbidden them from using the guns in case the Suits heard and found them. This was an emergency.

Sam carried on running, not long now. His breathing was getting faster, and his heart rate had increased so much, he was afraid he'd have a heart attack. This was worse than the cross country he was forced to do in fifteen minutes back when he was fourteen. Sam was eighteen now, and he was still not prepared for the end of the world.

Then suddenly Sam was there, and there were three bodies on the ground. Sam gasped. Dreading it, he looked up, and saw at least 10 Suits, with guns each to a person's head. Jamie. Cal. Sam gasped in shock. Jamie had been crying, he could tell from the redness of his eyes, and was on his knees, the gun pointed at his head. The rest of the surviving group was positioned like that, and Cal looked reasonably calm. Until he saw Sam. And Cal looked terrified. He shook his head no, but Sam ignored him.

Without thinking, Sam rose his gun, and shot the closest Suits in his head. The others saw him, and he shot two more.

The Suits had all attention on him now. Sams heart was racing, adreneline pumping through his veins. Sam didnt know what he was doing ; he'd never killed a man before, even if it was a Suit.

"Let them go!" Sam croaked through his tears, so much for seeming strong.

The Suits looked at eachother, then back at Sam. He shot another one. That had done it now.

"RUN!" Sam yelled, and his people ran. Sam ran with them, shooting blindly behind him at the Suits.

"Sam!" A voice yelled in front of him. Jamie. "Sam hurry!"

Sam was running faster than he ever had done ; he had never been the atheltic one in the Old World, always preferring video games and books to football. That had been a mistake.

A gunshot.

Sam watched as old Barbara fell down, her eyes wide open and glossy. Sam gasped. That was a mistake.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked him behind, Sam landed on hid back. The gun was snatched from his hands, and a Suit was on top of him, knocking the air out of his chest. Sam screamed.

The three other remaining Suits joined him as Sam screamed until his throat was raw.

"Kill me!" He yelled. "If you love me, kill me!"

He was aware of someone yelling his name, but that began to fade and Sam was eventually alone, outnumbered by four strong and heavy Suits.

Two were holding his arms, one his legs and the other was checking the pockets of his hoody and jeans.

Sam hoped they wouldn't find the inside pocket of his Jack Wills hoody, where the poison pill was hidden ; Cal made him and the rest of their group put it there to take in case they were captured, so they wouldn't be turned into a Suit.

However, they did. And the Suit tore open his black hoody, and found the pill straight away. He took it out and crushed it between his coarse fingers.

Sam screamed again.

He had nothing left to save him. He was as good as dead. No, he was worse than dead. Sam felt the tears stinging his cheeks, the mucas dripping onto his lip. Sam screamed and screamed until the female Suit slammed her hand against his mouth. Sam shut up.

Then, roughly, the Suits lifted him up. Sam tried to pull out of their grasp, but it was no use against four grown men, with mutated cells circulating in their veins. They threw him into the back of their black van, where he was handcuffed to the metal walls. Two Suits sat in the front, the remaining two sat in front of him, eyeing his every move.

Sam decided to take in his surroundings : the roof, floor and walls of the van were black. There were handcuffs dangling every half meter along those walls. Sam assumed they were for the survivors.

They would be angry, the Suits. Angry they'd lost men and had only gained one small, weak boy. And though they would take everything that he owned, Sam always had one thing : a small tattoo of a star on his left wrist that matched Jamie's. As long as he had that, he'd always have something from his old life. Maybe it would save him. Maybe it would spark memories, stop him from killing. Or maybe it would do nothing. But it was something they couldn't take away, something that would always hold at least one memory. A sinister laugh escaped Sam's lips. The Suits stared at him.

Sam bit his lip and decided to embrace what was going to happen to him : he was going to be turned into a slave for the New Government, where he would take or kill the normal people. Sam didn't know what went on in the Suits' brains, but he assumed it wasn't much. Would he still remember who he was? Would he end up killing his friends? His family?

Sam brought his knees to his chin and began to cry. Cry for the loss of his life, for his people's lives, and whoever he would kill in the future.

Sam apologised to whatever strange force had kept him alive for so long. He'd begun to stop believing in God since everything happened ; what God would allow such monstrosities to happen to the people he 'loved' so much.

And Sam cried.

Soon enough, the doors were opened and the light was blinding Sam. He was uncuffed, yanked out and fell onto his knees, grazing them and tearing his jeans even more. The Suits pulled him up and dragged him along the floor, until they reached a building.

This is where it happens, Sam thought.

And he began to panic. He tried to pull away from the Suits but they were too strong, and pulled him in.

It was a hospital, Sam realised after seeing all the nurses. Everyone in the corridors looked at him with hate. The walls were a pale blue, so pale they looked almost white, and the lights were flickering. If it wasn't for the nurses, Sam would've said it was like something off The Walking Dead.

When the Old World crumbled down and the Old Government couldn't cope with all the terrorist attacks, cyber attacks etc, the New Government stepped up, adamant they could stop all this. The people needed something, so of course they latched on to the New Government. Their solution was a drug, known as X at first, which supposedly made humanity stronger, more aware.

When it had all begun, people fought over who would get the operation first, thinking it would make them stronger, better. But they'd soon realised what it turned them into, and people began to refuse, to drop out. Those people were killed. Society realised that maybe the New Government was not as great as they had first appeared, so riots began. Soon the Suits came and more people were killed. Many were afraid, and gave themselves in. Others, like Sam and his family, didn't, and they went into hiding.

Sam had failed. He realised this as the suits pushed open a door and threw Sam onto his knees. He was then handed over by the Suits to about 20 nurses who lifted him up and pinned him to the hospital bed. He had failed Jamie, Cal, Monica, Mum, Dad...

Sam screamed in defeat, and tried to wriggle out of their grasps. A few nurses had let go of him, and Sam built up enough strength to pull out of their grips. He lurched forward and dived off the bed, relief flooded over him. Had he done it? Could he really escape? Suspended in mid air, Sam screamed, this time, in relief, and pulled his way off the bed. He could feel hands grabbing him, fingers slipping from his arms. But alas, it was all in vain, as the nurses surrounded him and had him back flat on the bed.

Sam dodged their hands, hitting and kicking with all his might. He didn't really know what he was doing, but it was better than doing nothing. But more nurses came, and they managed to restrain him. They tied his hands and legs to the bed, a leather strap was placed over his chest to hold him down.

Sam screamed, and struggled but it was no use. He'd begun to convulse as a mask was placed over his face, some gas leaking into his lungs. He screamed again. He tried to resist it, but it didn't work. His vision was becoming foggy, and Sam was freaking terrified.

He couldn't breathe, and his eyes stung from the tears. He tried to scream again but nothing came out. Then he saw the nurse with the needle, and Sam began to freak out.

He screamed from his throat, and wriggled and squirmed, trying to move his arm away from the needle. But Sam was drowsy and tired, which wasn't right. He screamed again.

He tried to focus on his black hair. He hadn't cut it in so long. He tried to focus on how messy it would be : matted with mud. He tried to focus on his grey t-shirt, caked in mud and holes torn into it. His black jeans ripped and his pale knees grazed. The duct tape wrapped around his left black converse, because there was a hole in the sole after he'd stood on a rock. He tried of focus on his mum and dad and Rachel, Jamie and Cal. He tried to focus on fighting and struggling to get away from the nurses.

Then he felt the prick of the needle in his arm.

Sam's heart was racing as he knew this was it. It was over. Everything he knew, loved, was, and it would all be gone in a matter of minutes. Sam was going to become the very thing he had been running from for so long. The liquid coursing through his veins, turning him into a monster. Just wait until it reached his brain.

Sam was tired.

But he had to keep fighting. His heart rate was slowing down, and his breathing becoming more steady, but his mind was a frenzy of fear and stress and anger.

But Sam was tired.

And it hurt when Sam tried to fight it. And his vision was going black. And Sam was drifting off.

Sam was tired.

So Sam slept...