Testing Zero: a dystopian post-apocalyptic young adult novella series (Remnants of Zone Four Chronicles Book 1)

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Book: Testing Zero: a dystopian post-apocalyptic young adult novella series (Remnants of Zone Four Chronicles Book 1) by N. G. Simsion, James Roth Read Free Book Online
Authors: N. G. Simsion, James Roth
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was probably about two miles. Lefty finished in the middle of the pack.
    Obviously frustrated, Lefty continued to run after the race was finished. He didn’t stop until he reached the far corner of the fence where they had seen a crocodile lying amongst the reeds.
    Zero decided it would be best to give him a little space and a moment to cool off. He waited alone in line inside the cafeteria. He filled two plates and stuffed a can of soda pop into each pocket. He then walked back outside to where Lefty was sitting picking at the grass.
    “I’d better win this fight,” Lefty said. “I have to. I don’t have a choice.”
    Zero handed him a plate with some fried chicken, a roll, and some mashed potatoes. He pulled a soda pop out of his pocket and placed it on the ground next to him. “You haven’t failed the written test yet. You may pass it. Maybe it won’t be as hard as you think. Let’s spend the rest of the afternoon studying.”
    “How many times do I have to tell you? Studying doesn’t do me any good.” Lefty reached his fingers through the fence in hopes of petting the crocodile, but it was too far away. “Maybe I’ll let a bunch of crocodiles into the schoolyard, and then when one of them goes after an Elite, I’ll jump in and save the day.”
    “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
    “Or maybe I’ll leave an opening big enough that a Remnant will come in and I can take him on. That would probably be easier than trying to fight Caiman.”
    “That’s suicide, Lefty, and you know it.”
    Lefty groaned and turned around. “Relax, Zero. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m just brainstorming here. There has to be a way around this.”
    Zero wished he could believe him.
    “You know what? Fighting Caiman might actually be better than fighting Flea.” He took a swig of soda and nodded his head repeatedly. “Yeah, of course. There’s no way I would impress the Elites if I beat up Flea. He’s little, like me. But if I beat—I mean, when I beat—Caiman, who probably outweighs me by a hundred pounds, that would really be something.”
    “Lefty—”
    “Stop worrying, Zero. It’s not like I’m going to get killed or anything. The worst that can happen is I get beat up and end up back where I started.”
    Conversation soon slowed to a stop. Even though this would probably be their last day together, neither of them really wanted to discuss the elephant in the room.
    Lefty knelt next to the fence and squeezed his hand through, dropping a bit of the chicken to lure the crocodile closer. It didn’t even turn to look at them.
    Neither of the boys felt any reason to leave the comforts of their location until they heard yells and screams of terror coming from the direction of the city gates. They saw students and Elites running for cover in every direction, cramming through the doorways into whatever building was closest.
    Lefty was on his feet and running toward the action before Zero could even yell, “Lefty, no. This can’t be good.”
    Lefty didn’t say anything, but continued to hurry. Zero chased after him. In a matter of seconds, they had made it through the crowd of terrified people and into the open space between the buildings and the front gate. Lefty’s eyes dashed back and forth at what he was seeing, his mouth open in amazement, his eyes large.
    There was a pickup truck idling about fifty feet inside the city gates. Behind it was a trailer that would typically be used for transporting livestock—big enough to fit two or three cows. It had been tipped over and was now lying on its side, its wheels still spinning. The rear door hinges appeared to have broken when it tipped and the door was now wide open.
    On the grass next to the trailer lay someone very small. He wasn’t moving, but Zero could see his chest rising and falling with each breath, so he knew he clearly wasn’t dead. His ankles were linked together by leather straps and chains. His wrists were strapped to a

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