The terrifying opening of my dystopian survival novella

Beyond the Lost Horizon is a 37,000-word libertarian-leaning dystopian survival novella, and one with an inciting incident we can only pray never happens.

Beyond the Lost Horizon came to me in a dream. The opening scene looked like something straight out of Red Dawn.

Check out my ARC’s version of Chapter One, and hope we never live through anything like it.

Chapter 1: Mayhem

Quinn rolled his eyes. Agreeing to attend this stupid concert with Jonas kept him from taking part in his number one summertime passion: A five-mile run as the sun set on this humid evening. Humidity so thick that sweat poured down his face on the short walk from the parking lot and into the venue.

Instead, he was stuck watching four girls of East Asian descent dancing around the sleek stage, half-dressed, singing in what Quinn could only describe as bubblegum music. All sugar and no metal, despite Jonas’s claims.

Groups of girls who couldn’t have been much older or younger cheered and called for Eunji, Arin, Yui, and Sana to look their way. Every other man in attendance with a beer in their hand cat-called and snapped photos that were surely going online before the show even ended.

Quinn cursed under his breath as one of the girls announced they were “just getting warmed up for the long, hot evening.” The sun was already sinking below the horizon when half the crowd swayed to a new beat, this one sounding like it came straight out of a traditionally animated Disney film, or maybe a dance pop knockoff of one on Broadway. That’s what they play on Broadway these days, right? Or, was it live action?

He had half the mind to walk away right now. Walk away, get in Jonas’ car, leave, and tell the only cousin he was on good terms with to find his own way back to the Pennsylvania-West Virginia state line. Because once Quinn finished his evening run, he’d turn in for the night. Maybe then, the guy wouldn’t use sleek persuasion methods to convince Quinn to join him for these stupid shows at the expense of an evening run.

Why’d Quinn have the keys in the first place? Yeah, because Jonas already slugged down two plastic cups of beer, and it wouldn’t be long until he sought out a third.

Quinn couldn’t help but chortle to himself and shake his head. Oh, he’d give it another song or two, and buy Jonas that third drink. That should make his cousin tipsy enough to be perfectly fine with taking an Uber back home or whatever.

Before another thought crossed his mind, a series of distant bangs pierced the air, causing a few of the girls in front of Quinn to shriek. One even fell back into him as another set of rounds went off. Quinn narrowed his eyes at the noise. It sounded like someone fired gunshots nearby. But since the band still danced and took turns rapping the lyrics, for all he knew, those bangs were part of the show. A little unexpected and bone-chilling, but nothing more than an act.

Yeah, freaking Disney to whatever this was supposed to be. He again scoffed to himself when another set of bangs erupted. Screams, more hysterical this time, followed. All four girls froze while the cops and stoic security surrounding the stage sprang into action—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Whoa!” Quinn yelled, stumbling back as two people standing to his right collapsed.

His eyes widened as he choked and held a hand over his mouth when a thick, red substance oozed from their unmoving bodies, right between their head and necks.

Oh, dear Tyr, these are gunshots, Quinn thought, as everyone standing near him seemed to process what was going on.

As the ensuing set of shots downed even more attendees, people tripped over one another in a mad dash to escape the onslaught. A young man sprinting alongside Quinn clasped a hand to the side of his head and yelled in agony as he dropped and writhed on the ground. Ditto for a middle-aged couple in front of Quinn who must’ve brought their daughter or something with them.

Quinn dove face-first into the overgrown grass that was caked with mud. He crawled like a soldier in an intense battle, yelling for Jonas. Desperate voices around him did the same for those they attended the show with. Some for friends. Others for parents. Parents for their kids. The sound of panic bordering on insanity in their cries sent a jolt through Quinn’s stomach.

He grunted as someone tripped over him. Quinn looked to his right, cringing as Jonas’s corpse lay beside him, a stiff hand over his head while blood pooled from his temple.

Quinn uttered a colorful choice of swear words, crawled away from his cousin, and through the fallen bodies. Some lay as stiff as Jonas. Others twitched, crying for help as blood squirted from their heads, torsos, and limbs.

Everything went into slow motion. There was no way Quinn would forget any of the fearful, dying, and lifeless faces he passed.

Face grazing each blade of grass, he kept crawling, searching for a safe area amidst heavy gunfire. If such an area existed. And as more strangled death cries met his ears, he doubted he’d get much farther.

Man, he couldn’t picture the reaction from his mother and father. Especially after they lost their parents in recent years. Visions flashed through his mind of a visit from someone telling them about his death.

No. Quinn wasn’t about to let that happen. He’d find a way to escape this mayhem. He’d hitchhike to his parents’ house in Ohio if he had to. Let them see for themselves that he was fine the minute news of this shooting hit local and national outlets.

Dang, this was something he never dreamed would happen to him. This kind of stuff always happened to someone else.

And where was the emergency response?

After what felt like an eternity, he bumped into something heavy and solid. The stage.

Gunfire stinging his eardrums, Quinn climbed to his feet and crouched, planting himself back-first against the stage. Staying low, he peered about the area. Trying to glimpse whoever was responsible for this onslaught.

Expecting a lone wolf mass shooter or a few people armed with hordes of magazines, he made out at least a dozen figures dressed in cargo pants and bulletproof vests, wielding assault rifles. They aimed and sprayed the stage with bullets.

The shots forced Quinn back to the ground. He crawled on his stomach to the other end. Quinn thanked his gods he face-planted to the grass when he did, or else he’d’ve joined the casualty count.

Maybe this would’ve qualified him for a stint in Valhalla. But he’d rather not find out.

Finding at least temporary shelter back here, his eyes caught the nearby tree line. If he could retreat there, find the nearby rail trail, and run back home, he might just have a chance to survive this thing. Yeah, going home, getting to his car, and driving to Mom and Dad’s sounded more appetizing than a long walk from Pennsylvania to Ohio.

Still staying low, he peered toward the front of the stage one last time. Nothing but bleeding bodies lay, piled on top of one another. Some sustained dozens of wounds. Those who survived the attack’s first wave scattered in opposite directions. Most bolting for the parking lot. A few for the trees.

Some of the attackers aimed and fired at the retreating concert-goers’ backs, dropping them one by one. Others advanced into the venue. They held their weapons at the ready, bending over bodies of those who, from their style of dress, looked like they had money. The attackers stripped them of their designer clothes and turned out their pockets.

What was this? Some kind of well-crafted robbery that targeted a concert venue?

And shouldn’t someone have alerted the authorities?

He found it weird that not a single siren pierced the now-smoldering air. Nobody from the concert would’ve had time to call anyone. But it wasn’t like this place didn’t have a few homes surrounding it. Those gunshots and hysterical screams had to have reached somebody’s ears.

With the gunmen distracted and no one he could see pointing an assault rifle his way, Quinn sprang to his feet. As he dashed through the tree line, a petite girl, one of the band members, if his eyes didn’t deceive him, crouched behind a thicket of trees.

She had dark, shoulder-length hair dip-dyed in platinum blonde, and a heart-shaped face with delicate features. Her onyx-colored, almond-shaped eyes widened in terror, fixed on the bloodbath still going on near the stage.

It wouldn’t be long until these people shifted gears and scattered into the surrounding forest. Hunting for anyone who survived this ordeal. The fact she wore that deer-in-the-headlights look told him she was too frozen in fear to move.

As Quinn beelined to where the girl stood, she caught sight of him, gasped, and stumbled backward, tripping over a loose branch.

He pulled the girl up and tried to steer her deeper into the woods, but she dug the heels of her boots into the ground. “Get moving if you want to live.”

“Stop, I’m supposed to wait for someone,” she said in a faint East Asian accent.

He couldn’t place it, but then again, linguistics weren’t in his wheelhouse. Either way, it seemed like she spent more than a few years studying and speaking English.

“Well, from what I saw, there’s a good chance they’re dead.” He again tried to push her ahead, but she anchored the heels of her sleek boots so deep into the earth that she’d fall forward. And the last thing he needed was to hurt this girl.

Quinn eased up and threw both arms to his sides. “Listen, I saw all but three people running the other way, and that was about the stupidest thing they could’ve done. And those who went this way weren’t bodyguards unless you guys hired teenagers. So either a, whoever you’re waiting for is dead in the parking lot, or b, they’re dead near that stage.”

The corners of her mouth turned down before she looked back at the venue, again crouching and peering through the trees. “They haven’t been killed,” she snapped. “That’s impossible. Our bodyguards are some of the best in the world. They’re trained for situations like these.”

“Okay, then why didn’t you find them when you bailed from that stage?”

“The plan was to converge, and they would get us out of harm’s way in case of an emergency.”

“Then they didn’t do a very good job at it, did they?”

“But if it wasn’t there, we were to find cover in the designated spot, and they’d come get us, or in this case me, once the situation was under control and the police got here.”

Quinn nodded back to the venue, where these terrorists, if he had a name for them, kept stripping clothes and valuables from select bodies. “Well, the situation looks like it controlled itself, and they still ain’t here.”

“I tried calling them like three times already.”

“Your bodyguards or the cops?”

“Bodyguards.”

Quinn sighed, snatched the iPhone from the girl, chucked it through the trees, and again tried to push her farther from the venue.

“Hey!” She thrust both arms into the air. “That’s the latest iPhone. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making you move,” he replied, tossing his own phone toward the venue. “And keep your voice down.”

“By trying to break my stuff?” She scampered to an area of brush at least ten yards to the right of where the thing landed. “Ugh, it’s getting too freaking dark to see anything.”

“Good.” Quinn’s hands again found the girl’s shoulders. “Because when they—”

Someone shouted in a language he didn’t understand, and it sounded like someone drew close to their hiding place. And goodness, the girl’s voice carried so much that they had to have heard her shouting.

Part of him said to leave her to deal with these terrorists on her own. But saving himself and leaving her to die would be a death sentence in and of itself. At least mentally.

“Quick,” he hissed. To his relief, she moved. “Let’s get behind something.” He steered the girl to a fallen log and pulled her to the ground. “Don’t move.”

Now that his vision grew accustomed to the darkening forest, he locked his eyes into hers. They still held an array of fear as the shouts grew so close, Quinn swore that if he as much as breathed, they’d find him and this girl.

Beams from flashlights and headlamps emerged. Quinn held his breath, praying the girl wouldn’t inadvertently give their position away. Twice, the beams traveled over, but never on them. After a few minutes that felt more like another eternity, the men’s voices, still speaking that strange language, grew faint.

“Wait,” Quinn whispered, poking his head out from behind the log and peering around. He kept one hand on the girl’s shoulder, easing it away when the flashlight beams became pinpricks from two men heading toward the parking lot.

“What are they doing?”

“Looks like they’re spreading out.” He took her hand and tightened his fingers through hers. “Come on, I can get us out of here.”

“I can’t leave my band or my security.”

“Look, uh—”

“Yui. And you’re—?”

“Quinn. And yes, you’re leaving. If they didn’t call you back, you need to assume the worst.”

“But—”

“No, Yui. There’s no way I’m letting you go back where Odin knows how many of them are in the area.”

“And if I run?”

“Then I’ll catch up and drag you kicking and screaming if I have to.”

“Wow, you aren’t street smart, are you? Because if you did that and I was kicking and screaming, they’d find you.”

“Do you want to die?”

“No. Quite frankly I want to get out of this godforsaken—hick town, I think someone called it.”

“I think just about everyone does, since a bunch of gunmen just overran the place. But for the record, your best chance to survive this thing is through me. Now come on.”

“Where are you taking me?” she said, and Quinn thanked fate she kept her voice low.

“We keep going straight, we’ll run right into an old rail trail, and it’ll get us to the next town. Once we’re there, we’ll get a burner and you can call your bodyguards again, alright? If they answer, we’ll lay low until they come get you.”

“How can I call them? You threw my phone.”

“I just said I’d get you a burner.”

“Do you think any stores will be open after this?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

“Figure it out?”

“Well, you just made a good point.”

“Huh?”

“When you said ‘after this.’ That didn’t look like a random shooting. If I had to guess, it was a coordinated attack. We don’t know where else they’ve hit. But since no police or military came, I got an idea.”

“And if they’re overrunning the town you’re talking about?”

He helped her down a steep, weeded banking, placing his free hand on the nearest tree to keep himself from slipping. “Then we’ll have to find a way outta there. I don’t know, we’ll steal a car or something, alright?”

“And go where?”

“You’re asking me questions I don’t have answers to. Like I said, I’ll figure it out as we go.”

She threw him a reproachful look and pulled her hand from his once the terrain flattened.

“What d’you got for me?”

“Excuse me?”

“A better idea. D’you got one?”

Yui shrugged and glowered. “I don’t have anything. I’m just worried, that’s all. Those girls became my sisters. The bodyguards, our brothers.” She shook her head. “It’s why I kept calling, hoping, praying, and praying is something I never do, that they would pick up. Then you had to throw my phone away.”

“Well, if you kept standing there and trying to reach them, you’d be dead,” Quinn said, as his shoes sank into mud hidden under the weeds.

“Ow!” Yui hissed, smacking her leg, most of which was exposed thanks to her black miniskirt. “Something bit me.”

Despite their situation, Quinn smirked, thankful for a bit of humor as Yui slapped away an onslaught of bugs that only emerged from their hiding places at night from her legs and exposed stomach. Still, they were in a dire situation.

“Here,” he said, offering his hand again.

Glowering, she took it, and Quinn cradled her, noting he performed barbell curls with heavier weight, given how easy she was to carry.

“Better?”

“Kind of.”

After trekking through the weeded landscape, Quinn’s shoes touched the crushed limestone that comprised the trail, and he eased Yui back onto her feet. “Okay, let’s make a right. Once I find the stone signaling the one-mile mark, I’m gonna lead you up a hill, and it should take us close to a supercenter. Once we’re there, we’ll see if the town’s been hit. If it has, we’ll improvise.”

“Well, thanks a lot.”

“For what? Carrying you through a bunch of weeds?”

She scoffed. “No. For extending my life for another few hours before they would snuff me out anyway. I mean honestly, you have no freaking plan, do you?”

“Well, what would your bodyguards have done if they were down here?”

“They would have known what to do. I would just be along for the ride.”

Quinn fought an eye roll. If they were that brilliant, at least one of ‘em would’ve made it through that attack. “Alright, well, I’ll figure out what to do, and you just go along with it. Because in case you haven’t noticed, there’s really no way to plan for what I already said ain’t an isolated incident.”

“What makes you say that?” she said, throwing her arms up. “I mean, you said coordinated attack earlier. So what’s up? What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything. I’m just going by what a friend of mine told me a couple years ago. ‘It’s coming, Quinn, you know it’s coming.’ He was all about linking chaotic events that news stations hashed out to us. So maybe he was right.”

“Or maybe he was just crazy.”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t be surprised if these people got into the country without doing any paperwork.”

“So they came here illegally?”

“A few of ‘em caught over the past few years had a history. I thought it was just anti-immigration propaganda, and maybe it was. But like I said, I’m just going by what he was saying. Obviously, I can’t confirm anything, but it’s definitely a logical explanation.”

“Where is he now?”

Quinn shrugged. “Somewhere well beyond any hick town in southeast Ohio.”

“Ohio…” she said. “That’s kind of how you say good morning in my native language. I’m from Japan.”

“Yeah, I was wondering that.” But before Quinn could get another word out, an array of shouts met his ears, and they were in that same foreign language.

Will Quinn and Yui survive America’s collapse?

Can Quinn and Yui survive the collapse of America? These two strangers were thrown together on the darkest day in modern history.

Quinn knows the terrain. Yui has never had to make a life-or-death decision. Now they must survive a country overrun by terror cells and collapsing institutions.

👉 Read Beyond the Lost Horizon exclusively inside The Rebel Lore Vault.

This piece first appeared at The Rogue Scribe.