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    Over A Barrel: Phalanx Blood, #2
    Over A Barrel: Phalanx Blood, #2
    Over A Barrel: Phalanx Blood, #2
    Ebook51 pages39 minutes

    Over A Barrel: Phalanx Blood, #2

    By Bruce E. Arrington

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    About this ebook

    After Bernard's friends pulled a daring Hollywood-style rescue, they secure a temporary dwelling where he finds refuge. Yet everything is not as it seems and once again, Bernard's life hangs in the balance.  

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPipe Dream Books
    Release dateJun 30, 2017
    ISBN9781386445999
    Over A Barrel: Phalanx Blood, #2
    Author

    Bruce E. Arrington

    Bruce Arrington is the author of more than fifteen books, including fantasy children's stories, sci fi/fantasy teen and young adult, and even a new adult romance novel. He likes to take average, everyday characters, and upend their lives through unusual and powerful circumstances. His latest thrill includes ziplining in the tropics of Costa Rica. Catch up with his latest writings here: https://www.facebook.com/PipeDreamBooks/ https://www.amazon.com/Bruce-Arrington/e/B0064TKY1G

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      Book preview

      Over A Barrel - Bruce E. Arrington

      Paisley, Oregon

      My blood kills cancer.

      Yep, you read that right. The big bad C word that scares just about everyone these days. My blood kills it. Dead. Dead Kennedys’ invitation to the White House dead. Disappointed George Romero dead. Doesn’t matter what type of cancer. It quickly finds itself outmaneuvered, surrounded, and mercilessly crushed by an iron-red phalanx. Just a few drops of my blood—drops mind you, and miracles start happening.

      It’s been what—nine or ten weeks now since this all began? After I turned 16, I agreed to my parents’ wishes and donated blood to the Red Cross. They of course rewarded me with some virtual reality awesomeness, so I was happy to help. Charity is its own reward, you know?

      Some folks at the Red Cross lab found out that the titer levels were somewhere between Neptune and Pluto, and they couldn’t keep quiet about it. (Yes, I know you astronomers out there will tell me Pluto isn’t a planet anymore, but a man has to take a stand when his childhood is at stake. Pluto will always be a planet in my heart, dagnabbit; I believe in it, same as the brontosaurus. And paleontologists ate a pterodactyl’s worth of crow finally acknowledging that one!) One person told another and they told twenty more and soon, well, I don’t know how many were involved, but probably a lot. Too many. Someone had the bright idea to test it on cancer cells. 

      And...bingo. My life changes overnight; for the good, or so I thought. It looked like I was gonna ride a rocket to the big time. Like I’d get real rich, be a big super hero and save lots of people from miserable pain and suffering.

      You’ve heard the old saying The best laid plans of mice and men... right? Well, don’t forget the rest of it—the part that certainly came true for me: ...often go awry.

      Thanks, Robert Burns. I don’t know if you jinxed me or what. For the non-literary, when one rides a rocket be cautious where the point sticks.

      Soon after, my mom was beat up at work (the same day she was fired—oh yeah, great day that was). I was kidnapped by one of the pharm companies, and my personal world view changed. Dramatically.

      I don’t hate everyone on planet Earth. Please don’t misunderstand. I’ve had a pretty good life so far. There are some good people who have contributed to my welfare these 16 years. My mom and dad, grandmas and grandpas and cousins and other family members, and friends I’ve grown up with. But there are bad people who want what I have, like jealous researchers whose life ambition is to be the top dog in their field, and they don’t care who they have to hurt to get there. Ironic, isn’t it? Aren’t they supposed to be helping people instead of hurting them?

      But when they come after me and people I love, I won’t stand for it.

      For now Mom and Dad are off on a well-deserved vacation (for their protection), far away from here. I haven’t talked with them yet, though I really miss them. The time isn’t right, and it definitely isn’t safe.

      My friends—who in this document I call Michael, Charlie and Courtney in lieu of their

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