Brand New Sam: Creative Text

Brand New Sam

Sam was going to die. Tree branches scratched his face as he ran. The snow seeped through his boots and socks and numbed the heels of his feet. He ducked behind a tree and pulled the revolver from his belt. The chamber popped open and six holes lay inside, each devoid of bullets.

“Fuck.”  

He put the gun back in its holster and continued to move. The tree line was just ahead, but Sam knew that about five meters behind it was the huge wall that cut the forest off from any kind of civilisation. If he got to that clearing, death awaited.

He altered his direction and, as if fate wanted to spite him, his toe became lodged under the root of a tree and his face collided with snow. He heard crunches in the snow as someone made their way towards him.

“Hello, Sammy,” Kay said behind him and Sam knew without turning around that he had a smug grin on his face.  

He heard him cock his gun and in an instant he flipped onto his back and pulled out his own. He glared down the barrel. “I'll shoot you, Kay.”  

The other man laughed and towered over him. He spread his arms wide. "So? Shoot me." Sam glared at him and he sniggered. "Sam, I've been counting. You used the six bullets you had. I'm not stupid. Now, turn to the left so I can get your pretty side.”

Sam calmed himself and turned his face to the left. He was panting from the cold instead of fear. The air filled his lungs and made it difficult to think of anything other than the pain numbness it created on his insides. He couldn’t escape now. His boot was still trapped under the root. It felt twisted or broken. At least he wouldn’t have to think about it soon.

“Good game, Sam.”  

Kay pulled the trigger.  

  

Sam woke up. He groaned as his head fell back against metal. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the light once he had opened them. He felt like he'd just woken up from a night out with Kay which wasn’t false, but it hadn't been as fun as drinking five pints of beer. He waited for the steroids to fill his muscles and gripped his fists to get his blood flowing through his veins again. He took a few deep breathes to rid himself of the nausea caused by an empty stomach.

He waited for the machine to beep and when it did he ripped off all the wires attached to his body with white tape. They fell to the ground of the capsule and the door opened. He jogged slightly on his feet as they touched the cold wooden floor and he raced to his room to get changed.   

He felt a little dizzy as he ran, but did his best to ignore it. It wasn't that a peculiar thing to happen and was often simply due to all of the drugs his body had been pumped with for the past few hours. His stomach turned over as he pulled on his clothes and he reached for the drawer in his bedside table. Inside was a small bar made purely of protein and carbohydrates. It tasted awful, but the food settled his stomach down and he continued changing.  

He sat down on his bed and pulled on some socks before walking back into the big open spaced living area. The TV, as usual, was turned on. 

“Remember, citizens, if you find anything wrong when you wake up, make sure to correct yourself with a Cyanal pill. If you have run out, please call...” 

Sam walked out of the door and down the nine flights of stairs and out into the street. He still wanted to eat a proper breakfast. He hurried across the road and walked towards the food hall. It was the only place anyone could get any real food without having to cook it themselves. While it was true that pretty much everyone had a kitchen in their apartments, they more decoration and antiques than anything else.

He joined the line outside the hall and walked up to the counter. 

“I’ll have beans and bacon.” 

The man behind the counter nodded and spooned a pile of beans onto a plate. He added a few slices of bacon to the top and passed it over the counter to Sam. Sam nodded his thanks and went to sit with Kay and some other men. 

“Hey, Sammy,” Kay said, smiling and moving over slightly so Sam could sit next to him on the small bench. The rest of the table greeted him in similar ways. They continued the chatter between themselves as they went back to eating. “How’d you sleep?” 

Sam shrugged and started eating. “Okay. How about you?” 

Kay smirked at him. “With the sweet taste of victory in my mouth. You weren’t on game yesterday.” 

Sam laughed and sent a playful glare to the other man. “I’ll get you next time.” 

“Sure.” 

Sam ate his meal whilst conversing with the other five men at the table. He looked at the time and decided it was time for him to leave before the crowds came for lunch. He gave Kay a kiss on the cheek and stood. “I’m going to work.” 

Kay nodded and Sam put his tray under the table with the rest of the dirty breakfast trays. He left the building and looked around.  

The sun was shining brighter today than it did on most days, which would explain the sudden explosion of people hanging about the streets. Men in suits were talking on mobiles as they walked down the street and people sat together in the park across from the hall. It was the only hint of colour in the whole of the grey city.  Sam thought it should be next to the Hunter arena rather than in the middle of the dim and colourless residential zone.

He realised a crowd had started to form for lunch and decided to move before he was crushed in the stampede of hungry workers on their lunch break. He made his way down the street and enjoyed the rare feeling of sun on his face. He looked up at all the tall grey buildings surrounding him, each similar in structure and, he imagined, each similar on the inside too. He didn't doubt that his and Kay's apartment was exactly the same as the hundreds of other apartments in the city.

He was looking up and thinking about that ball of fire in the sky as he strode into the road and was hit by a convertible.

  

Sam woke up and fought the urge to grip his head. He felt sick, more so than usual. The back of his neck was freezing cold and his stomach was churning over and over. He waited for the machine to beep and jumped out, letting the wires fall off him when their length ran out.  

He fell into one of the dining room chairs and gripped his stomach. He felt like he was going to throw up. His head was pulsing, his blood pumping loud in his ears. The door of the capsule he had just left was still hanging open and all of the wires were hanging down from the ceiling, some with tape attached to the ends and some without. 

Sam started removing the tape that was still stuck to his skin. His chest felt heavy as he uncovered all the scars. He reached up to the back of his neck to remove the tape that should have been there. He held his hand there for a moment in shock as he stared ahead. Nothing; no tape and no scar.  

He got to his feet and raced to the bathroom where he pulled a manoeuvrable mirror out from the wall and adjusted it so his reflection shone in the mirror above the sink. There was definitely no scar. One of the wires hadn’t attached. 

He shook himself out of the shock and tried his best to remember all the ads he had seen on TV. The government knew some of the machines were bound to be defective so they did their best to instruct everyman of what to do if they ever felt differently when they woke up.  

Take a pill.  

Sam hurried the kitchen and poured himself some water. He placed the glass on the counter as he searched through drawers for the small box of pills. He found them at the back of the dusty cutlery drawer and popped one of them out.

He placed it on the counter next to the glass of water and stared at it. It was a slight peachy hue and so small he imagined he could fit three on the tip of his finger. It didn't look threatening in the slightest, but it meant dying. And, for some reason, that sent a shiver through Sam’s body. So he placed the pill back in the box and slid it to the end of the cutlery drawer.

His stomach growled and he looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was almost rush hour, but he could get before the crowds started. He got changed and walked out of his apartment and down the ten stories of stairs. The street outside was empty and he guessed everyone must either be at work or at the food hall. He made his way towards the latter and stood in the small queue. He looked in through the windows of the large building and spotted Kay in the back, sitting with a few friends.  

He got to the breakfast counter and stared down at the food. Flies were circling the beans and the bacon looked uncooked. Sam managed to mumble out the words, “Cereal, please,” while fighting the urge to throw up.  

“Hey, Sammy,” Kay smiled as his partner walked over to the table. The rest of the table nodded their hellos and went back to eating. “How’d you wake up?”  

Sam sat close to him and noticed Kay give him a worried look. He opened his box of cereal and started to eat the small flakes from the packet. “Just fine. You?” 

Kay paused for a moment and seemed to ponder upon whether or not to ask him what was wrong. It looked like he decided against it. “I slept in the bed. Was surprised to see one of your caps on.” 

Sam shrugged at him. “I got hit by a car. Sorry. I’ll be a little more careful next time.” 

Kay continued to eat his food. Sam noticed the glances he sent his way and he did his best to ignore them.  

“Are you okay?” 

Sam nodded. “Yeah,” he lied. “I’m just a bit tired.”  

He was quiet for the rest of breakfast and Kay seemed to pick up on the fact that he didn’t want to talk. He felt bad for lying to the other man, but decided it was better than causing him to worry.   

“I’m going to go back,” he murmured in Kay’s ear. Kay nodded and Sam felt him watch his back as he walked out of the hall.   

In an instant, he was pulled into the crowd of people waiting to get into the hall for lunch. He panicked for a moment, fearing that, like so many, he would be trampled over and have to start life anew. The panic intensified as he crossed a man who had fallen to the ground and was now screaming in pain. Somebody pulled out a gun and shot him.   

Sam hurried to get out of the crowd. He fell into the road as he exited the sea of people and dived out of the way of a speeding car. He rushed back to the pathway and watched the car hit another crosser about fifteen meters away. It reminded him of just yesterday and the idea that he had died less than twenty-four hours ago shook him to his core.  

He looked up and down the street and couldn’t find a safe place to cross. He waited there for around ten minutes and long after the lunch crowd had dispersed, he was still rooted to the same spot. He jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. 

“Sam, are you alright?” 

Sam looked over his shoulder and saw Kay standing behind him. “I just...” His throat felt dry and he coughed into his hand. He looked down at his feet as he turned to the other man. “Can you walk home with me?” 

Kay frowned and nodded. He walked Sam across the street and strode next to him for the next five minutes until they got to the building they lived in. They walked up the stairs together. Kay guided him to the table when they were inside the apartment and they sat across from one another.

“Sam, what’s going on?” 

Sam met Kay’s eyes and saw how worried he looked. His fists were held together on top of the table and his thumbs were rubbing across the flesh on the back of his hands. He seemed nervous. Sam supposed he was acting rather strange. 

“I...” He sighed to himself in frustration and gripped his head as he let it fall against the table. He didn’t know how to express what was going on. “One of the wires didn’t attach.” 

There was silence for a moment. “Did you take a Cyanal?” 

Sam shook his head. “I don’t want to die.” He was aware of how fragile his voice sounded and wished that he could take it back. He refused to raise his head as he heard Kay scrape his chair back and walk around the table. Arms wrapped themselves around his neck and Kay pulled him into a hug. Sam stayed limp as he accepted it but didn’t return it. He felt weak.  

“I think you should take one of the pills,” Kay murmured, and Sam pushed him off. 

“No, I don’t want to.” 

“Sam-“ 

“No, Kay. I said I don’t want to.” 

Kay watched him for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Okay, Sam. You can do whatever you want. Just be careful.” 

Sam nodded and Kay leant down to kiss his forehead. Sam refused to meet his worried eyes again, and Kay let out a breath of frustration.  

“Okay, I’m going to go to work.” Sam nodded. “I love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

Kay smiled at him for replying. He went to their room. He walked back into the dining room a few minutes later with his briefcase and more professional clothes on. He gave Sam a little wave goodbye and left for work  

Sam watched him go. He heard the door sound a soft thump as it closed and went to bed.

Sam woke up hungry and Kay still wasn’t back from work. He left the apartment and stood at the top of the stairs, looking down. He held the banister in a tight grip. He remembered that one time he had tripped here at the top and fallen to floor seven, a few stories down. He felt nauseous as he peered over the side of the banister and saw the ground floor about twenty-five meters down.  

His knees slowly buckled and he sat down on the top step. He pushed himself backwards and crawled to the door of his apartment. When he was inside, he sat with his back against the door and his head in his hands. He forced himself to take deep breaths and stood up and walked towards the kitchen. He looked around with confusion etched across his face.  

He only had knowledge of what a few of the instruments in the kitchen did. There was a strange knife hanging from a utensil bar that had two jagged holes around a lower piece of metal.  

Sam decided to just go straight for the pans, hidden in a cupboard under the sink. He looked in the rest of the cupboards for a hint of food and found a few dusty steel cans at the back of one of them. He inspected it for a moment. How was he supposed to open it? 

He looked through the drawers and soon found the tin opener, remembering before 5176 – when the disease struck and killed off anything with a womb - that his older sister had made him spaghetti with tomatoes from a can. He did his best to replicate her actions from all of those years ago and felt his hand strain as he twisted the can open. He looked inside the can. It reminded him of what soup used to look like; shredded vegetables that had been stirred with a cup of water. Sam grimaced down at it and forced the bile that was rising in his throat down. 

He tipped the contents into the pan and turned the oven on. He set one of the stoves to the highest heat. He wanted food fast without having to go outside, but almost everyone was used to eating in the food hall. Buying your own food was almost unheard of.   

 Sam leant up against the counter and read the faded words on the tin can as he waited for the food to cook. He assumed it was only going to take a few minutes, but he couldn't really make it out. He felt hot all of a sudden and thought it was from his anger of not being able to make a simple dinner. But, as he looked down, he saw his sleeve was on fire.

He stared at it for a moment in awe. He had never seen fire this close before. Well, he guessed he must have back when the women were still alive, but that had been so long ago he'd almost forgotten. He watched as it burnt through the frays of his cardigan and relished in the slightest amount of pain it gave him. It was the normal pain; not a stomach ache or a bullet through the head.

Suddenly, he realised that if he didn’t do something soon, the fire was going to do a lot more than burn through the cardigan and singe the hairs on his arm. He pulled off his cardigan and threw it to the floor. He felt his heart clench as he stared at the fire, feeling useless. He heard the door open and Kay called out his name. When he didn't get a reply, he made his way to the dining room and saw Sam standing in the kitchen over the breakfast counter.  

"Hey, Sam," he called out. 

Sam didn't reply and continued to stare at the fire. Kay must have seen smoke starting to rise because he sprinted into the kitchen, pulled off his blazer and suffocated the fire with it. He tipped a few glasses of water over it and stamped it until the fire went out. 

When he was done, he raised an eyebrow at Sam, who just looked at the spot the fire had just been in. “What happened?” he asked. 

Sam looked up for a moment, as though shocked to see him and after a second, he glanced back down at the burnt pile of clothes. He gave a small cough to dispense of any awkwardness. It didn’t work. “I was trying to cook some food.” 

“You tried to cook?” 

Sam nodded and Kay stared at him. They stayed silent for a few moments, each wondering what on earth they were supposed to say. 

“I think you should take the pill.” 

“Kay, I don’t want to.” 

Kay sighed and took a step closer to him. He put his hands on the other man’s shoulders and bent his knees to look him in the eyes. “Sam, I don’t understand why you’re afraid. You’ll just wake up again.” He pointed over Sam’s shoulder to the capsule’s lining the dining room wall. “Right over there.” 

Sam glanced in the direction Kay was gesturing to and stared at all of the lifeless bodies propped up behind the glass doors. He shivered and turned back to Kay. “They’re not natural. Humans are supposed to die.” 

“Then take a pill.”  

Sam scowled at him. “And come back as a clone? You don’t understand. They’re not me, Kay. Those things,” he growled, pointing into the dining room as well, “aren’t me. I don’t want to wake up as one of them.” 

Kay looked like he was struggling to find the right words to say. He looked down at his feet with a disappointed expression on his face. “I’ll go and get you some food,” he said after the silence had left enough of an awkward gap between them. “Just stay here and try not to destroy the apartment.” 

He left without saying anything more and Sam watched him go. His hands tightened into fists and his eyes narrowed into a glare at Kay’s back. It wasn’t compulsory to take a Cyanal if something was wrong with you when you woke up and Sam hated how it was the only thing his partner could suggest. He shook his head and walked through the dining room to the living area. He sat down on one of the cream chairs and watched the ever-on television set. 

“In today’s game of Hunter TV, we will be seeing who of our twenty contestants’ lives until the very end and receives a £10,000 prize!” 

There was applause from the audience and Sam rolled his eyes. Everything from the presenters make-up covered face to the robotic cheers from the crowd were fake. He was surprised the show was still running; most people went out and played Hunter instead of just sitting at home and pretending to be involved in a reality they were not a part of. 

He picked up the remote and switched over to the Screen channel. When he did, the words “IF YOU SHOOT A GUN OUTSIDE OF A HUNTER GROUND YOU WILL BE FORCED TO LIVE OUTSIDE OF THE CITY”, appeared. He almost laughed at the government’s attempt to keep order in a city that never died. He continued to watch the screen change from one message to another until Kay came back home with a loaf of bread and some ham. He made Sam a sandwich and passed it to him, looking at him with hopeful eyes.  

Sam was being more perceptive than usual. He looked down at the sandwich and frowned at the ham hanging out from the middle.  

“Where does the pork come from?” 

“What?” Kay asked. He was sitting on the settee and eating some of the bread. Sam wondered if he knew, but was just avoiding the answer to the question. He wouldn’t be surprised. 

“The pork? We didn’t clone the male pigs, did we?” 

Kay shrugged as he looked over at his partner. “Maybe the government decided to. I don’t know. It’s fine; just eat your food.” 

Sam looked down at the sandwich again with a sickening feeling in his stomach. In truth, he hadn’t seen an animal since the last turtle died about a thousand years ago. He remembered back when the women died out, the government had tried to clone dogs as well, but they deemed it pointless not long after due to the resources they took up.

Really the only meat they could obtain would come from… He looked over at Kay’s clones lining the living area wall. He gulped to try and keep himself from throwing up. He reached down and put the plate on the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Kay asked, looking over at him.  

Sam shook his head, and found himself unable to stop. His throat grew dry and his head started hurting. He closed his eyes and tried to control the muscles in his neck. He bit down on his tongue and managed to stop shaking.

Kay got up and walked over to him. “Sam, what’s wrong?” 

Sam took a deep breath and raised a finger towards the sandwich. “It’s us, Kay.” 

“What?” 

“The pork. It’s made from dead clones.” 

Kay looked down at the sandwich for a moment. He looked back at Sam. He seemed to be thinking to himself about how plausible an explanation that was. It turned out he thought it could hold some truth to it. He shrugged his shoulders and put a small piece of bread in his mouth. 

“I guess that makes sense.” 

Sam stared at him. He got to his feet and made his way towards the bedroom. 

“Wait, Sam. Does it matter? Where would we put all of the bodies otherwise?”

Sam ignored him and climbed into the bed. He pulled the covers up and over his head, covering himself with shadows and attempting to forget that the world existed.

*

He woke up the next morning to Kay gently tapping his shoulder through the duvet.

“Sam. Sammy, wake up.” 

“What is it?” 

“I’ve brought someone to come and talk with you.” 

Sam stayed silent and kept the cover over his head. He could hear Kay breathing somewhere close to his head and resisted the urge to punch his partner in the face. He didn’t want to speak with anybody. Kay had probably rung a specialist; someone who promised to have Sam back to normal as soon as possible. 

“He’s from the government.” 

Kay said it in a way that suggested Sam was supposed to trust whoever was standing outside of the door with whatever he was going through. He pulled the covers down from his face to raise an eyebrow at Kay, who just shrugged his shoulders in return.  

“Fine.” 

Kay smiled at him and walked over to the door. He turned on the light and gave Sam time to get up from the bed to the desk before opening the door for the visitor to come in.  

The person who stepped into the room was a bulky man who had clearly not been hired as a consultant for the government. Sam would have gone as far as to say the man was in fact hired to fix situations with his hands and not his voice. However, he stood up to shake the suited man’s hand and smiled at him in greeting. 

“Your partner tells me you have been having issues? With the waking?” 

Sam considered telling a lie. But he imagined Kay had already explained everything the government needed to hear about his situation. So, he just nodded his head.  

The man went to sit in the desk chair and Sam stood hunched over and awkward for a moment before deciding to sit down on the bed. They sat in silence for a moment before the suited man sighed and placed his hands on his knees. 

“What exactly do you think is unnatural about the clones?” 

Sam had a feeling that Kay had already relayed this information and now the man just wanted a confirmation. “I think humans are supposed to die.” 

The suit shook his head at him, not willing for even a moment to accept his argument. “We have died, Sam. This is the afterlife. An eternity of doing whatever pleases us.” 

“This isn’t the afterlife.” 

“Maybe you don’t think so. But a lot of people do. What exactly do you think will happen if you actually die, Sam?” 

“There has to be something better than this,” Sam muttered. “My mother always believed in a heaven.” 

The suit laughed. “Christians. They’ve long died out, Sam. And don’t you think if their theory were true, if there were a higher being, he would have saved some of the women?” 

“Maybe the human race was supposed to die out.” 

“How old were you when your mother and sister died, Sam? 10? Do you know how old Kay was? He was 82. You would never have met him.” 

Sam paused for a moment to think about that. Kay had often said, when they first met, that back then he would have given anything to live forever. But losing his daughter and granddaughters hadn’t been worth it. Over time, however, he had gotten used to never seeing them again and with some effort he had managed to forget their faces. He never said anything about them going to a better place. Even before the Death of Women, he hadn’t believed in God.  

“It’s still wrong.” 

The man sighed at Sam and a hand settled on the inside of his jacket. “What is it going to take to convince you?” 

Sam stared at the man’s hidden hand and felt a little pleased that he had managed to guess the man’s occupation correctly. Sam doubted the government even had people for consultations.  

“Nothing,” Sam said, shaking his head and he watched as the man pulled out a gun for him to view. He felt a strange amount of calm pass through him as the man raised the gun. And then instinct took over and the next few seconds went by in a blur. The man fired the gun and Sam pushed himself over the side of the bed. The bullet grazed his shoulder and he swore in pain. He grabbed the edge of the duvet he heard the man get up from his chair and rush around the bed, as soon as he saw the toe of his shoe, he leapt to his feet and covered the man in the duvet, spinning him around before he could shoot through the fabric. 

He could hear Kay pulling on the door handle, but the suit seemed to have locked the door before walking all the way into the room. Sam wrapped his arms around the man’s throat and the duvet and tightened them as best as he could.  

“Sam! Sam, what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

Kay started to try and break down the door as the suit struggled under Sam. He fired the gun a few times through the duvet and stopped when it clicked with an empty chamber. Still, he kept his arms in place and did so long after the duvet had stopped moving. Finally, he let him drop and went to open the bedroom door. 

Kay’s first reaction was to the wound on Sam’s shoulder. “What the hell was that?” he asked, deciding to ignore his concern for the other man and going with the hard hitting questions.  

“He tried to kill me,” Sam said, glaring and keeping his voice cold. He saw Kay’s eyes widen and peer over his bleeding shoulder and into the room. 

“Where is he?” 

Sam stayed silent and Kay seemed to understand what that meant. He sighed and rubbed his temples.  

“Sam, you can’t just kill people.” 

“He was trying to kill me!” 

“He was trying to help you. You need to die, Sam. If you don’t, you won’t get better.” 

Sam swallowed down his rage and pushed past Kay and stormed towards the dining room. He picked one of the chairs up by its back and looked Kay in the eyes as he smashed it into one of his own capsules. 

“Sam,” Kay shouted, rushing forwards. “What are you doing?” 

He moved onto the next capsule and then the next and then the one after that. Kay tried to pry the chair from his hands, but he was overflowing with adrenaline. All of the bodies inside of the capsules drooped forwards and collapsed in a heap in front of them. 

Key glared at him. “Well done, Sam. Have you finished your little tantrum?”

Sam narrowed his eyes back at him and lifted a hand to the right side of his head. Kay reached out to stop him.

“Sam, don’t do this.”

Sam saw the scared look in his eyes and wondered how he would react if he gave up his last chance of another life. He didn’t think about it for too long though, knowing the guilt would stop him from following through. He pulled the chip out from behind his ear and crushed it between his fingers, rendering all of his future clones useless. Even if the government managed to repair the chip and store it in a new clone, it would be nothing like Sam; it wouldn’t have his personality and his memories.

Kay looked like he was about to break down in tears or scream at Sam, but the TV interrupted him before he could.

“The government has announced an opportunity for anyone who lives in the 1.T-W area; there are offering one million pounds to anyone who can kill Sam Uste. The picture you are seeing on-screen now is the face of the man who offered himself up in this intense game of Hunter-“ 

Kay immediately bent down and picked up all the tiny pieces of the chip and strived to piece them all back together. Sam watched him struggle in a pathetic attempt to keep him alive and he decided to hold him back.  

“Sam, you fucking idiot!” Kay screamed, his hands balled into fists and tears streaming down his face.  

Sam didn’t know what to say so he stayed silent and squeezed the other man in a hug.  

A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. Soon after that, there was a bang. 

Kay pulled away and took a deep breath as he led Sam back to the bedroom. “Lock yourself in there,” he said. “And don’t come out unless I say you should. Get your revolver as well.” 

Sam nodded and entered the bedroom. He kicked the duvet roll away from the end of the bed and retrieved his gun from the bedside table, along with a case of ammunition. He sat at the end of the bed, facing the door, and waited. 

He heard the sudden thump as the door fell to the floor and dozens of people poured into the open living area. There were gunshots all over the place and Sam doubted that Kay had to do any of the work at all. They were all in such a hurry to get to him that they were killing everyone in their way.  

It was about ten minutes before Sam heard a scuffle outside of his door. He heard Kay swear at someone and the familiar sound of his pistol firing deafened him. A body fell to the floor. 

Sam’s fear had built up inside of him and, although he still believed that clones were unnatural, he thought that it would be nice to have a backup plan if this didn’t work out. He was scared of entering the nothingness of the afterlife that the suit had talked about not half an hour earlier. 

He cocked his gun when the heard a machine gun firing through the air outside. Kay screamed and Sam thought he heard him fall to the floor.  

There was a banging on the door as someone tried to break it down. Whoever had the machine gun just decided to shoot off the hinges. The door fell through and the gun continued firing. Sam died.

He didn’t wake up.

'Brand New Sam: Creative Text' was part of my University thesis and it is examined in 'Brand New Sam: Report' which you can find here.