Famished
Lauren R. Hammond


There is no United States. There is no world. An asteroid has destroyed what the human race knew as earth and The Great Famine has wiped out most of the surviving human population. For the few remaining survivors, food is scarce—precious—a luxury. A luxury that most humans can't find.

Seventeen year old Georgina Carver is fortunate. She's survived the destruction. She eats three times a day while the rest of humanity is plagued by The Great Famine. And she's safe, hidden away in an underground colony with her family and several other families of survivors.

All of that changes the day she's randomly selected to be a gatherer. Georgina must leave her safe yet simple world and venture out into a world unknown. A vast, dangerous, destroyed world that could literally eat her alive.

After Georgina is severely injured, her life begins to fall apart. She can't remember how she got home or what happened to her while she was on the new earth. The boy she is crushing on avoids her and she keeps having visions that involve an unknown person with violet eyes.

As Georgina begins to unravel the truth, it doesn't take her long to figure out that maybe her safe yet simple life isn't that safe at all.


Lauren Hammond

FAMISHED


Chapter 1: Aftermath


In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

    
~ Genesis 1:1


Vivid flashbacks of the day the asteroid hit had always haunted me. Not only because the asteroid demolished the world I knew, but because it led to The Great Famine, a deceitful murderer ten times worse than the asteroid itself.

Two things had circled around my mind in constant rotation when I thought about my last day on the earth I knew. The loud, deafening cry my mother let out, when the leader of our nation made the announcement that we were all doomed. And the actual sight of the asteroid, with the circumference of a small strip mall, when it breached our atmosphere. It blazed bright orange and muted yellows flames trailed behind it as it sailed across the powdery blue skyline.

Plopping down on my porch swing that day, I marveled at the asteroid. My mouth had dropped open and I kept my eyes on the cratered monstrosity, lost in a trance as it passed over my house. Even though I knew the amount of destruction the asteroid would cause, I still found it beautiful. The bright colors reminded me of a brilliant display of fireworks shot off on the Fourth of July.

Our neighborhood was like an intersection in an overpopulated city. People were frantic, running from their houses to their cars, grabbing everything they could. Police officers were parked in between the cluster of people and cars, shouting from megaphones, blaring their sirens, and shooting off rounds of bullets into the air, trying to take control of the situation. But it didn’t matter, because nothing they did worked.

One of the men in the street clubbed a police officer on the side of the head with a baseball bat. Then, the people who didn’t have cars trampled all over the poor police officer, trying to evacuate. Terrifying screams played out like a song on the radio. And in just seconds, the amount of people in the street doubled.

My parents didn’t panic like all of our other neighbors. Yes, my mother had been startled and yes, she had screamed. But my parents were focused and set a plan in motion. Only seconds after the President finished his speech, my father was out the back door in a flash with a shovel in his hand.

I’d glanced at my mother, confused. “Where is he going?”

“To build our new home,” she answered solemnly.

“Where at?” The President had informed us that the asteroid would have breached our atmosphere in six hours.

“Underground.”

As I watched more of our neighbors flee, I’d squinted, puzzled as to why they thought it was necessary to shout and carry on like escapees from a mental institution. Did they think panicking was going to help their situation? Would spouting off like lunatics save them? Now, as I looked back on that day, I understood.

Nobody expected a global apocalypse. Nobody expected a massive ball of molten, burning rock to fall from the heavens and disintegrate anything and everything we knew. And most of all, nobody expected The Great Famine to sneak in, like a thief in the night and leave the remainder of the human population, starving and mad.

Everything had been wiped out. All of the houses, buildings, and skyscrapers, that were once carefully crafted wonders had become heaped over piles of rubble. Cars spontaneously combusted as a result of too much radioactivity.

Plants died from the earth’s soil being tainted. And shortly after that, the animals died, leaving what was left of the human population to rot from the outside in.

At the time, I’d thought people would have been more educated on what to do if a catastrophe struck. But people weren’t educated. And because they weren’t educated, they weren’t prepared. They were ignorant. Now, two and a half years into The Great Famine, everyone is hopeless and lost, left to fend for themselves.

The following two months after the asteroid hit were dismal and depressing. My father had constructed this tiny underground home for us, but it wasn’t completed and we spent most of our time huddled together, wearing surgical masks, and going without food for days at a time. Honestly, thinking back, if we would have continued on like that, I was certain that within a few months, our carcasses would have been rotting on the side of the road with most of the other survivors.

The name of the state I used to live in was Nebraska. And the city used to be Lincoln, the capitol. Now it was nothing. There were only fourteen surviving families left. Fifteen if you counted mine.

It had been a long time since I breached the surface of the world above. My parents wouldn’t allow it. So, as far as I knew, the survivors that remained were savages. I’d seen a few things while our colony was being built, and most of the inhabitants left ran wildly through the bare, desert terrain, filth covering them from head to toe, bones protruding through their leathery skin, foam dripping from their mouths in search of one thing…

Nourishment.

A high pitched squeal pulled me from my thoughts.

“Georgie!”

My time reminiscing about the past was over the second my kid sister, Frankie waltzed through the door. I rolled over on my cot as she plopped down next to me, sitting Indian style on the concrete floor. “What’s up, Frankie?”

“Were you sleeping?” Frankie was short for Francesca. The name suited her. She was a short, petite brunette that made the word enthusiastic seem like an understatement.

I propped my head up. “No,” I commented. “I’m just thinking.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Thinking? About what?”

I let out a long winded sigh. “I don’t know, Frankie, just

things.” I didn’t feel like elaborating.

Suddenly, Frankie, shot up off the floor like a cannonball barreling out of a cannon. I flung myself backwards startled by her spontaneous gesture. “Did Mom let you have coffee today?” I inquired. She was hyper by nature. She didn’t need the added caffeine.

Frankie paced back and forth across the small room, then giddily clapped her hands. “No,” she squealed. “But I have the most exciting news!”

I waited for her to go on with the story. “Well, come on. Spit it out.”

She stopped pacing, faced me and giggled out in delight. “We’re all being invited to the council meeting tomorrow!” She went on. “Can you believe it? After all this time we are finally going to see what goes on inside of a council meeting!”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Four months after the apocalypse we banded together with the fourteen other families. The members helped my father expand our underground home into a colony, with tunnels that led to each family’s household. Shortly after that, they formed our colony council.

Once a week, the heads of each household met for a council meeting. Only the heads of each household attended the meetings. They never invited any family members. So I found it odd that were inviting everyone now.

There were a number of reasons why the families could be invited. They may have learned of some advancement on new earth. Maybe there were less toxins in the air now. Or they could be calling us in to give us some bad news. That maybe our food supply was running low or that they caught someone committing a crime. My gut told me, whatever the council was planning, wasn’t necessarily good. I sat up some. “Where did you hear about the families being invited?”

“I overheard Dad talking to Mr. Baker.”

My father’s involvement in the council worried me. He was so kind, trusting, and easily impressionable. I scowled at the idea of a weasel like Mr. Baker, a man who was always sneaking around, planting some stupid idea into his head. My father wasn’t a natural leader but, he did start this colony so he had to be included. I crossed my legs. “Well, what else did he say?”

Frankie cocked her head to the side. “That’s all I really got. Dad said and I quote, ‘we’ll have to invite all of the family members.’”

Seconds later my mother strolled into our room. “Dinner is in ten minutes.” She turned to leave.

Then I got up from the bed. “Mom, wait!”

My mother stopped, turned around and faced me and Frankie. “What is it, dear?”

I spoke up. “Frankie heard something about the families being invited to a council meeting.”

My mother turned away from me, looking sternly at Frankie. “Francesca, were you eavesdropping again?”

Spots of pink appeared on Frankie’s ivory cheeks. “Guilty.”

She stepped backwards, glancing between me and Frankie. “Well, as far as I know, the topic is all really hush-hush. But yes the families are being invited to the council meeting tomorrow.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And you swear, you have no idea what for?” Even though she said she didn’t know, I knew sometimes she lied about certain things. She said she did it to protect us.

She made an x across her heart. “Sweetheart, I swear. I have no idea.”

My mother turned to leave, giving Frankie another hard look. “Francesca, you better start minding your own business or I’m going to have to lock you in this room. You hear me!”

Frankie rolled her eyes. “Yes, mother.” Frankie glanced at me as my mother walked out of the room. “How is she going to lock me in? We don’t even have a door.”

“Believe me,” I harrumphed. “She would find a way.

* * *


On the way to the mess hall, I brushed passed MayVickers. “Sorry, May!” I shouted apologetically.

May kept her eyes on the floor, lost in a trance and didn’t look up. She hadn’t been the same since her daughter, Monica disappeared.

The council had set up some rules for the rest of the colonists to follow. They maintained their importance because it made our new life underground operate smoothly.

Rule number one: You could not steal another colonist’s food.

Our supplies underground were limited and greediness was not tolerated. In fact, if you were caught stealing, the punishment was severe. First, you were kept in solitary confinement in a little room called the hole. You had to stay in that hole, submerged in complete darkness without food or water for three days. The punishment was created to remind the guilty party what life outside of our little world was like.

Second, after you were pulled out of the hole, you were given lashings. One for each item that you stole. Dylan Edwards once stole three eggs from the Baker family. After he received his punishment, he lifted his shirt to show me the deeply rooted lashing marks that stretched horizontally across his back. As I fanned my fingers across his scarred flesh, I shuddered. There was no way in hell I was stealing anyone’s food.

Rule number two: You could not, under any circumstances, leave the colony and venture out into what remained of earth unless instructed.

Monica Vickers disappeared about six months ago. I was told that her curiosity was eating her alive. That she was so desperate to peak outside that she just left our world, never looking back.

Every week, gatherers were sent out in search of supplies. That was different. They were given permission to leave. But if anyone was like Monica and just wanted to see what was out there, well, they should have seriously considered digging themselves an early grave.

A twinge of remorse struck my heart whenever I saw May, wandering around like a lost soul. But these rules were made for a reason. They had to be followed. There could be no exceptions because with exceptions came chaos.

And finally…

Rule number three: You could not give food to outsiders.

Yes, there were outsiders. Mostly people that traveled from other cities and states in hopes of finding some kind of rescue or refuge. Sometimes, it bothered me that we never invited them in. “You’d better erase that thought from your mind, Georgina Carver!” my mother would say. “Food is scarce and we have too many mouths to feed as it is!”

“But, what if they need help?”

“They could be cannibals. We can’t risk it!”

I didn’t bring up the subject of outsiders too often. It wasn’t a subject my mother or anyone else liked to talk about. And the punishment for feeding an outsider was….

Well, I honestly never knew because no one had ever done it.

The members of the council made it perfectly clear that if we were caught feeding an outsider, the punishment would be more severe than any of us just stealing food. I don’t think anyone needed them to elaborate. Fear was already instilled us after we saw Dylan Edwards being whipped. Nobody wanted to experience a punishment worse than that.

I caught up with my father as he walked down the wide, muddy corridor with Mr. Baker. I reached out, tugging on his arm. “Daddy.”

He waved goodbye to Mr. Baker and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “What is it, Georgie?”

I pulled away from him, lacing my arm through his. “What can you tell me about this meeting?”

He craned his head around, looking behind us. “Where’s Frankie?”

“There’s no point, Dad. Mom already yelled at her.”

“I’ve got to start looking out for her and learn to watch what I say when she’s around.”

Frankie was one of those kids that was like a talking parrot. She couldn’t keep a secret. And if she was in hearing range of your conversation, she would repeat whatever you said. She was five years young than me. One time, when I was thirteen and she was eight I accidentally screamed the word “bitch.” She heard me say it and even though I asked her not to say anything, she ran around the house for the next two days shouting the word. Naturally, my parents found out she heard it from me and I was grounded for a week. I learned to keep my lips tight around her from that moment on.

My father and I made a left turn, walking into the mess hall. I unlaced my arm from his and stepped away. “So, are you going to tell me more about this meeting?”He placed both of his hands on my shoulders. “Honey, I wish I could but you know I’ve taken a vow of silence when it comes to the council. I can’t talk about what goes on in the meetings outside of them.”

“Did Mr. Baker put you up to this? Why do you always do everything he says?” It bothered me that my father started this colony and Mr. Baker pretty much ran it. There was something sinister about him that made my insides churn when I thought about his fake, gap-toothed smile. It was a smile that said, “I know something you don’t.”

“Georgina, this has nothing to do with Mark. I’m telling you, I took a vow and I will not break it. You need to learn to respect that.”

I pushed his hands off of my shoulders. “It’s not fair!” I protested. “You people keep us out of the loop for all of this time, now suddenly you want us involved!” I was more confident than ever that this meeting was going to be bad. And more than anything, I felt betrayed. Council or not, my father was my father. And if he knew something awful was going to go down he should have told me.

He sighed. “Georgie, don’t act like this. You know I want to tell you. I just can’t compromise my position.”

“Your position as what? A council member or my father?”

“Georgina!”

Storming off, I ignored him as he continued to call out my name. At the moment, I wished that whole council would disband. Then maybe my father would put his priorities as a parent above his priorities as a council member.


Chapter 2 : Hush Hush


Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep and The Spirit Of God was hovering over the waters.

    
~ Genesis 1:2


The colony was divided into several sections. There was a long, wide corridor that ran horizontally, with open to doorways to each family's quarters along both sides. Mine was at the end, next to the exit. On the opposite end of the corridor was the mess hall.The mess hall was the largest room in our underground village. The floor was made of concrete and the walls were made of dirt. There were six, long wooden picnic tables positioned vertically, three on each side of the room. The only lighting we had was the dull flicker from candles mounted along the walls or motion lamps that were powered by generators.

My eyes had grown accustomed to this kind of lighting because it was the only light we had, but I missed the sun in the worst way. Sometimes I’d close my eyes and remember its warmth. The way it sizzled on your skin as it burned the tip of your nose. There was no sense in me complaining about not having it. I was just thankful to be alive.

I trailed my finger along the dirt wall, as Grace Vickers my best friend nudged into my shoulder. “Why so pouty?” she chirped.

“Ugh,” I sighed. A slow rumble circulated through my stomach. “I’ll explain after I eat.”

Honestly, I could trust Grace with my life. She was such a loving and loyal friend. Every time I was feeling down she was always there to pick me up. The same went for me.

The week after Monica disappeared, I sat up with her night after night while she cried herself to sleep. In a way, I knew exactly what she was going through. I had a sister and even though Frankie got on my nerves sometimes, I couldn’t imagine losing her.

Grace patted her belly. “I know. I’m hungry too.” Grace walked ahead of me and I continued walking a few feet behind her.

In the mess hall, I weaved through the rows of tables, listening in on the colonist’s topic of conversation, ‘the meeting.’ I knew once the subject was leaked it would only be a matter of time before everybody found out. I glanced over at my parent’s table and my father was wagging his finger in Frankie’s face. Frankie nodded and rolled her eyes. It didn’t matter how hard my parents tried to break Frankie of the habit of eavesdropping, none of their punishments worked.

Hearing everyone whispering about the meeting made my anger resurface. Just who did the council think they were? And my father disappointed me the most. He had always been so open and honest. He’d tell me anything. Why not now? Was it just because Mr. Baker told him not to? Even though my father denied it, I knew it was true. That simple act of denial reassured my gut feeling that this meeting was going to be bad.

I made my way to the back of the room. I shared a table with a group of kids my own age from the other families. Lifting each leg, I hovered above the sturdy wooden bench, ramming my butt into my seat. The whole table shook. I huffed, folding my arms across my chest as all sixteen eyes at the table turned toward me. “What?”

Exhaling slowly, I lowered my arms as another rumbling growl escaped from my belly. All of my worry about the meeting mixed in with my hunger was making me a little bit cranky.The rest of the eyes turned away from except for Colin Martin’s. His hazel eyes burned into my chocolate brown ones. “Who peed in your Wheaties?”

“I’m just hungry, that’s all,” I scoffed.

There were a lot of times when Colin caught me off guard and I always wound up snapping at him. I never meant to. Honestly, every time I heard the sound of his deep, smooth voice my heart would begin racing, my cheeks would get red and tingly and my stomach would do a back flip.

One time, during recreational time he gave me a cocky smirk, his perfect white teeth glowing in the candlelight, and I got flustered and smacked my head into the side of the doorway. Out of all the boys down here, Colin was by far the most attractive. He had a perfectly proportioned heart-shaped face, chiseled jaw line, and hair the color of the sky at midnight.

Sometimes I caught myself staring at him, only to look because half of the time he walked around shirtless. And Colin shirtless was like staring at one of the those old ads in Cosmo with the toned underwear models.

A few times, when I caught him walking around in nothing but a towel, I had to pick my jaw up from off the floor. It was difficult not to let my teenage hormones get the best of me, when I lived this close in proximity with boys my age.

Colin knew he was good looking. He had this arrogant way about him. There were plenty of times where I’d seen him with other girls and he’d ask them to feel his bicep, a smirk on his face and dimples present on his cheeks. And Colin took full advantage of the way he could manipulate the girls down here.

We weren’t forbidden from fraternizing with the opposite sex but the council didn’t want teenage members of the colony running around fornicating everywhere. Pre-marital sex was something that was severely frowned upon.

Part of me thought that the council should spend less time worrying about pre-marital sex, and more time worrying about our future. Like when or if we’d run out of food.

Colin got caught in compromising situations on more than one occasion. I didn’t think it ever got as far as him going all the way with a girl. But it was close. I’d actually walked in on him one time when he was with Anna Shafer in the rec room.

He hovered over top of her, shirtless, the contour lining of his abdomen tightened, his back muscles flexed. I froze at the sight of it. I tried to speak but I couldn’t get the words out. My veins pulsated. My breathing quickened. My brain kept telling my feet to move but I couldn’t. Finally Colin lifted his head, gave me a haughty grin and winked at me. “What’s up, Georgie? If you don’t mind I’m kind of busy.”

Outside of the room, I rested my back against the wall of the muddy corridor, panting. Colin made my insides burn like a crackling ember in a fireplace. But after seeing him like that with Anna, I knew he was the type of guy who couldn’t be trusted. I couldn’t understand why he was always giving me mixed signals if he didn’t have an interest in me. So, from that moment on, I vowed to keep my feelings for him to myself.

My attention averted to my left when Grace took her seat next to me. As she brushed a strand of her honey colored hair off her shoulder she beamed at me, her pale blue eyes sparkling “Hey you,” she said excitedly. “Don’t look so glum. I can smell the food. I’m sure they’ll be bringing it out any minute.”

I admired the way Grace always tried to look at things in a positive light, especially after what happened to Monica.After going through something like that, I thought Grace would be more negative than positive. That wasn’t the case. When you went through the hardships that we did, we had to step outside of the box and consider ourselves lucky. We could have been on earth, rotting away. Instead, we were down here, eating and living our lives.

“It’s not just that.” I tucked my fiery, auburn hair behind my ears. “I’m just distressed about this stupid council meeting.”

Grace shrugged. “I’m wouldn’t overexert myself by worrying about it. The council knows what they’re doing.”

“We put too much of our faith in the council. What if it’s something bad?”

Grace stole a glance around the room. “Shh,Georgie! Don’t say that!”

I leaned into her ear. “What? You don’t think it’s odd that this is the first time in two and a half years that the families have actually been invited to a meeting?”

“Georgie’s got a point, Grace,” Colin spoke up.My eyes flashed over to his. He crooked me a smile and winked.

I shook my head and faced Grace.“Seriously, Grace. I have this terrible, feeling in my gut.”

Grace raised her hand. “I don’t want hear about it anymore. Can’t we just talk about something else?”

At the same time I opened my mouth, people started coming around with bowls of food. Three ceramic bowls were set down on our table. Each person took one helping and passed the bowl down. We never allowed seconds. We also weren’t allowed to waste any. We had to consume every piece of food that was on our plate.

In the beginning, after starving on and off for three months straight, inhaling all of the food was a challenge. When you starve for that long, your stomach shrinks to the size of a peanut. Now, after eating well for the last couple years, it was hard not to ask for seconds.

For dinner, we were served scrambled eggs, cooked carrots, and a piece of flat bread. Every day it varied. Like I said earlier, each family in the colony had something to provide. When we ate, three times a day, each family donated part of their food so that we could actually have a full course meal.

My mother was a botanist and my father was an electrician. Together they concocted this genius idea before the colony was built, that with artificial lighting, and soil deep beneath the earth’s surface, plants could be grown and survive. So my family provided all of the vegetables.

We grew carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers and potatoes. Sometimes, when the crops were harvested, we’d get a bad batch. For example, the carrots rotting before we picked them from the soil. Potatoes not being any bigger than a pebble. But most of those mishaps were in the first few months of The Great Famine.

The Baker family used to own a chicken coop so they provided all of the eggs. They managed to save several chickens from the coupe after the apocalypse. So we always had fresh eggs. Grace’s father, Ed Vickers, was a baker. He provided the flat bread. Grace’s mother May was a doctor, and she ran our infirmary. Colin’s family used to own a ceramic’s shop in what was once Omaha. Without them, we’d be eating off of the table with our hands.

Each time I took a bite of the food on my plate, it felt like a gift. When I finished, I thought about licking my plateand cleaning up all of the crumbs. That’s how valuable food was anymore. Even crumbs were worth a person’s weight in gold.

After dinner Grace appeared next to me and laced her arm through mine. “What are you going to do now?”

I shrugged. “Probably just go back to my room.”

“Or…” she grinned.

I shook my head. “No way.” I knew exactly what she

wanted. Grace had this crazy obsession with checkers. Anytime we had free time that’s always what she wanted to do. I didn’t like playing with her. Mainly because she beat me every time.

“Come on,” she whined. “Do you honestly think you’ll have more fun sitting in your room alone?”

I grumbled in defeat. “Alright.” She had a point. There were too many things on my mind for me to sit alone in my room and dwell on them. “Maybe I’ll actually beat you this time.”

“Ha.” Grace laughed. “I doubt that.”

* * *


An hour later we were on our third game. Grace picked up her black piece and jumped over my red one. “King me.”

I moaned. “Don’t you ever get tired of winning?”

She pondered the question for a second. “Uh. No.”

I turned my gaze to the open doorway as Colin walked passed us. Grace looked over her shoulder, then turned back to me smiling. “Somebody has a crush,” she teased.

I blushed, looking down at the floor. “I do not.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You know you can’t lie to me.”

“Fine. Maybe I like him a little bit.” It felt odd that I finally admitted it out loud to someone. And who better than Grace? I knew she’d never say anything to anyone and she probably would have some good advice.

She clapped her hands together. “I knew it!”

I pushed the checkers off of the board and started putting the game away. “I wouldn’t get so excited about it. It’s not like he has the same feelings.”

Grace leaned in close. “Are you freaking blind? He’s always staring at you. And whenever you’re around, he always tries to find an excuse to talk to you.”

I put all of the checker pieces in the box and closed the lid. “That doesn’t mean he likes me,” I began, “He does that same stuff with a lot of the girls around here too.” Colin never struck me as a loyal type of guy. He was way too charming and did way too much flirting with other girls.

Grace stood up and extended her hand to me. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

I took her hand and stood up. “No. I don’t. And besides, why would he want someone like me? There are girls that are way prettier than me down here.”

We walked toward the door and hung a left. Grace’s families quarters were right across from the infirmary—which was on the other side of the mess hall. Grace nodded toward me. “I think you underestimate yourself, Georgie. You’re a lot prettier than you think you are.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

Grace went on, “And I also think Colin flirts with those girls to get your attention.”

My mind went back to the time I caught him with Ana. He didn’t seem like he was trying to get my attention. He acted like I interrupted him. “Maybe.” I wasn’t going to disagree with her. Even though I knew what she was saying wasn’t true, I didn’t feel like talking about Colin anymore. All I wanted to do was go back to my room and get some sleep.

After I said goodbye to Grace, I walked back to my room, lost in my own thoughts. The meeting still loomed in the back of my mind, but I’d blocked it out thinking of Colin. Damn him. He was always distracting me.

I couldn’t help but let my worry drown me. People like Grace were fine with being kept in the dark about certain things. But not people like me. I had to know what was going on. Perhaps it would have been better if Frankie would have kept her mouth shut and not said anything at all.

Out of nowhere, I felt an arm wrap around my waist. I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could even utter a squeal, a warm, moist hand covered it. I couldn’t get a look at my attacker. They came at me from behind. In attempt to free myself, I extended my arm back and elbowed the person in the face. Whoever it was, growled out in pain as they pulled me into a dark room.

The person shoved me backwards, slamming me into the cold, damp dirt wall. Breath caught in my lungs as I felt the wind being knocked right out of me. I flapped my arms wildly, trying to slap the person away. Keeping my mouth covered, they pressed their body into mine. I reached out, hands sliding up their shirt, feeling the muscled torso of a man.

A match sparked and Colin brought it to his face as he grinned. “You’ve got spunk, Georgina. I like that about you. ”

I shoved him backwards as the match went out. “Colin! You jerk! What the hell were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?” My emotions were torn. Part of me wanted him to hold me and another part of me wanted to slap him across the face.

He hovered over me, arms placed on the wall above my head. “Hey now, you’re not the one who got elbowed in the face.”

I raised my voice. “I thought you were attacking me!”

He looked over his shoulder. “Keep it down, nobody can hear this conversation.”

I ducked from underneath his arms. “I don’t want to be a part of this conversation.” I headed straight for the doorway.

Colin caught me by the wrist and pulled me back toward the wall. “You’re going to want to hear this,” he murmured, his deep voice hushed.

I glowered. “You sound awfully sure of yourself. What’s the topic of this conversation?”

He leaned in close, his warm breath caressing my ear. His lips being only an inch away from my neck made my spine tingle. “The meeting.”

“Oh yeah,” I snapped. “What about it?”

“You know how you said you had a terrible feeling about it?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You were right. It’s going to be bad.”

“How do you know?”

“These walls are thin. I heard some things.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Like what?”

He grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back into the wall. “Like that there is going to be chaos tomorrow when the families find out what they have planned.”

“I don’t believe you.” Colin Martin was not the type of guy who gave out free warnings. As long as I’d known him, he always had ulterior motives.

He pressed his body into mine. “You don’t? You’re a terrible liar. You’re the one who thought something was off about this whole meeting in the first place.”

“And I still do. I just don’t believe you have any knowledge of it. I think you concocted this whole story in that little mind of yours to try and get me in here, alone.”

“Oh, feisty and smart. This is a win-win situation.”

I shoved into him as he wrapped his strong arms around my waist. “Colin, I’m going back to my room.” I pushed on him harder. Still, he didn’t budge.

“I am serious about the meeting though. I did overhear a conversation. And you are also right about the second part.”

“What do you mean? What conversation?”

He craned his neck, his face inches away from mine. “Something about gatherers.” He brushed his soft fingertips against my cheek. “And I also wanted to get you alone.”

He took me by surprise when his full, wet lips fluttered over mine. I fought it at first, then as he wrappedhis arms around me tighter, I relaxed, losing myself in thekiss. He was a good kisser, almost too good. I could seewhy he drove all the girls around here mad.

Then the thought of us getting caught planted itself in my brain. I inched away from him, walking to the doorway. “Where are you going?” he asked, puzzled.

“To my room,” I said, hanging half-way out the door. “Thanks for the information but, the last thing I want to do is get caught having a tryst with you, Colin Martin. I know what kind of guy you are. And I’m not interested in becoming one of your band of merry followers.”

“Georgina, it’s not even like that.”

“Whatever, Colin. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I walked out of the room and left him standing alone in the dark.

In my room, I collapsed on my cot, smiling up at my ceiling. That kiss made my stomach swirl. It wasn’t my first. God, I had done my fair share of kissing. I recalled one kiss in particular that involved spin the bottle and a lot of slobbering. Ugh. But out of all the kisses I had experienced in my life, the kiss with Colin was by far the best.

I was so confused. What did he want from me? Could he see through me? I didn’t like the way he teased me. I liked when people were upfront and honest about everything. Then again, whenever I was around him I tried to act like I wasn’t interested. Even though I totally was. And it wasn’t just because he was attractive. There was a sweet side of him. A side that rarely came out. But when it did it made me swoon.

One day, I was walking down the corridor, carrying a whole stack of textbooks for Mrs. Edwards, our teacher. There was a crack in the concrete and I accidentally tripped. The stack of books toppled over and Colin rushed toward me, lifting me off the ground. “Whoa, you okay?”he asked. There was no sarcastic tone to his voice. He wasn’t smiling seductively. He seemed generally concerned.

Thankfully, he gave me a tidbit on the meeting and a wave of relief washed over me. The meeting had something to do with the gatherers. But why did he say it was going to be bad, then?

Frankie walked into the room, noticing the glazed over look on my face. “What’s with you, sis?” she asked.

I continued staring at the ceiling. “Nothing.”

She fell backwards on to her bed. “Are you sure?”

If I didn’t give her an answer I knew she would probe me until I said something.

“I’m just thinking about tomorrow.” That was the most believable lie I could come up with.

In my heart of hearts, I really wanted to tell her what just happened with Colin. That’s what sisters were supposed to do. They were supposed to be able to gossip about boys. But I knew if I mentioned one word of what just happened, my parents would find a way to keep me away from boys, period.

“Are you nervous?” Frankie asked, her eyes finding the ceiling.

“Not really. What is there to be nervous about?”

“Because we don’t know what’s going to happen. My stomach  has been in knots all day.”

“Relax Frankie, tomorrow isn’t even here yet. And besides,

anything that goes down will not involve you.”With that said, I rolled over and glanced at the wall. My eyes shifted, locating all of the rocks that were imbedded in the dirt.

There were two things I had to recognize about today. Number one, that something was going to happen at tomorrow’s meeting. And number two, that maybe that kiss between Colin and I actually meant more to me than I was prepared to admit.


Chapter 3: The Meeting


You will certainly not die, the serpent said to the woman.

    
~ Genesis 3:4


All seventy members of the colony poured into the small, compact meeting room. This room was only made to fit about twenty comfortably. Not seventy. I shoved my way to the front of the room, feeling like I was a crowded pea in a pod.

Someone backhanded me across the face. Another person stomped on my toe. Still, I pushed forward. I wanted to be in the front of the room for this. My attention switched to my father who was pacing nervously across the front of the room. He was worried. And when my father was worried, that wasn’t a good sign.

My mother stood against the wall with Frankie, her arms outstretched. “Georgie! Over here!” she shouted. But her shout was faint. The chatter in the room was so loud I could barely hear myself think.

I turned sideways, squeezing myself between people in the first row. “Sorry,” I said as I kicked someone in the shin by accident.

“It’s okay Georgie,” Colin commented. “I like it when you get physical.”

I continued sliding down the row. “Colin, I don’t have the time or strength to deal with you right now!”

When I was inches away from her, my mother grabbed me, pulling me toward her. She kissed my forehead gently, examining my face. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

She squinted. “What were you talking about with the Martin boy?”

I peered over my shoulder and caught Colin grinning at me. I faced my mother. “Nothing. He was just asking me a question.”

My mother threw her hands over my shoulders as I put my back to her. “Oh, what about?”

Why was she suddenly so interested in what I was speaking to Colin about? She knew I talked to him on a daily basis. “Nothing important.”

As Mr. Baker stepped forward, the chatter in the room died down to silence. The meeting was starting. “Alright everyone! Thank you for coming!” he shouted, his loud voice ricocheting off the walls. The small bulge in his stomach jiggled as he fidgeted with his fingers. He was nervous too. What the hell was going on here?

He removed a white handkerchief from his back pocket, wiping away the beads of sweat that drizzled down his forehead. Hushed chatter broke out through the room as Mr. Baker cleared his throat. Again silence.

Then, he gazed around the room, a stern look on his face, commanding the attention of the whole room.“Family members, we ask that you remain silent until this meeting is over!”My father stepped forward, standing next to Mr. Baker. All of the worry I noticed in him earlier was gone. “The council has taken a vote and we’ve decided to conduct a lottery!”

Even though the room was asked to remain silent, after that last comment, people began shouting. My father took command of the room. “Quiet down! The truth is, we need more gatherers, to go above ground and search for supplies! The council has decided to randomly select two teens, a boy and a girl. All of the kids between ages fourteen and eighteen will be entered into the lottery and at the end of the week two will be selected at random!”

I stole a glance at my mother. The look on her face, pure outrage. “Damn it Doug!” she yelled. “How could you? These are our children!”

Then one by one, the protests started flying.

“They are too young!”

“You men, are the ones that are supposed to be doing the gathering!”

“Have you lost your minds?”

“What about the cannibals? You expect us to just send our children to their death’s!”

Me, I was so baffled that I didn’t know how to react. I glanced over at Colin who mouthed, “I told you.” Then I peaked at my mother, whose eyes looked like they were about to shoot lasers into my father’s flesh.

The room started spinning. I winced, getting nauseous. Gatherers. The lottery. The news hit me all at once. I started falling forward, my eyes rolling back into my skull. But before I could hit the ground my mother caught me by the arm. “Honey, are you okay?”

I shook off the dizzy feeling. “Yeah.”

Mr. Martin, who lingered behind my father and Mr. Baker, strolled forward confidently, his tall, lanky limbs looming over the crowd in front of him. “This decision is final!”

“Come on!” my mother shouted. She grabbed me and Frankie by our hands, pulling us toward the doorway.

As we passed my father, my mother gave him a look of pure hatred. She was right to be angry. If she would have kept something like this from him, steam would have blown out of his ears. It was probably best for my father’s sake if he stayed in the council room for a another couple of hours. Because if he came back to talk to my mother now, I’m pretty sure she would have killed him.

Later on, I sat in the mess hall with Grace and the usual crowd. Colin sat across from us and he was joined by Molly Edwards. Molly was one of those girls that had to wear a bra at the age of ten. Because of that, she got a lot of attention from the guys.

I watched on in horror as she slid her hand along Colin’s thigh. “Ugh,” I whispered into Grace’s ear. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.”

Grace laughed. “What’s wrong?”

“Molly makes me sick.”

Grace looked over at Colin and Molly, observing their public display of affection. “Some girls have no self-respect.”

I wondered if Grace would think of me in that same way if she knew what went on between Colin and myself. Normally, I told her everything but, this was one secret I couldn’t tell anyone. Not because I cared about what everyone thought. It was just because I didn’t feel like having my business aired out around the colony.

My eyes wandered over to the opposite side of the mess hall. Geez, my mother was still pissed off at my father. They weren’t even sitting at the same table.

When my father finally did come home from the council meeting, It was like there was an explosion in our room. Their shouting and carrying on lasted for hours. In the past, they had always been so loving toward each other. But in my mother’s eyes, my father had betrayed her. And unfortunately for my dad, my mother was one of those people that held grudges.

There was an instance a year back where my mother and Mrs. Martin couldn’t agree on some topic of conversation. I couldn’t remember what the topic was exactly, but I remembered my mother’s words afterwards. “Annie Martin, the nerve of that woman!”

My mother didn’t speak to Mrs. Martin for three whole months. And what my father had done was way worse than a simple difference of opinions.

The truth was, I felt the same way my mother did. Normally, I felt life was too short and precious for a person to spend most of it angry. But what my father had done shook me to the core. I felt like a slave being tossed into an arena full of lions. I knew he was aware of what the new earth was like. He and the other council members had provided us with plenty of terrifying stories. So why would he agree to this?

Grace spoke up, pulling me from my thoughts, “Who do you think they’ll pick first?”

The bowls of food started coming around. I shrugged, pretending not to care. “They said we’ll be selected at random.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“No,” I lied. I hoped that she couldn’t tell I was lying. I wasn’t just scared, I was petrified. The uncertainty of what the earth was like now made me shudder just thinking about it. And not to mention, the cannibals.

I had seen a ton of horror flicks of the walking dead that needed to survive by consuming human flesh. But these people weren’t dead. They were very much alive, so ravaged and ransacked by hunger that they resorted to eating their own kind. I winced at the thought of human teeth biting into my thigh.

“Georgie!” Colin shouted.

I snapped out of my trance, looking up to see Colin holding out a bowl of food. I snatched the bowl from his hand. “Thanks,” I said sneering.

“Whoa. Easy killer. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

Ignoring his comment, I spooned out my serving of food and put it on my plate. I passed the bowl over to Grace. “What I really want to know is how long they are going to leave us out there for?”

Grace picked up the spoon. “Who knows? Maybe a few hours.” She took her serving and passed the bowl down. “I just hope they don’t pick my name.”

“It seems inevitable that one way or another everyone is going to be picked at some point.”

“Maybe I should rephrase that then.” Grace shoveled a helping of food into her mouth. “I hope they don’t pick me first.”

“Me too, Grace. Me too.”

* * *


Monday’s, Wednesday’s, and Friday’s we had school. On earth I had to go for five days, here it was only three. When the colony was formed it was decided that since the adults needed a lot of help around the colony to keep things running smoothly, that’d the school week would be lessened by two days. I was thankful for that. Even though I was a good student, I hated school.

The kids that went to school were divided into two age groups. Ages fourteen through eighteen were held in one room and ages six through twelve were held in another. There wasn’t enough room to split up each child according to grade, so splitting them according to age seemed like a much better idea.

Walking in to the tiny, condensed classroom, I stole a glance around the room. Eight wooden tables with detached benches faced a small dry erase board in the front of the room. The first four tables were already filled up so I meandered to the one in the back corner and took a seat.

Seconds later, after I had pulled out my supplies, Colin pulled out the chair next to me. “Is this seat taken?”

Before I could open my mouth to protest, he plopped in the chair. Grace walked in and eyed me. I shrugged, mouthing silently,

“Sorry.” She waved at me nonchalantly and sat down at the table in front of me.

My eyes shot daggers at Colin. “Shouldn’t you be sitting with your new fun bag?”

He looked up, puzzled. “Who, Molly?”

“It was Molly who was feeling up your thigh yesterday, wasn’t it?”

Colin let out a sharp laugh. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy.”

I opened my mouth, baffled. “Jealous, hardly.” I threw my shoulders back, staring straight ahead at the dry erase board. “Why should I care who you spend your time with?”

The truth of it all was that I was actually insanely jealous. Yes, I knew he was a bit of a womanizer. But I was under the impression that the kiss he had given me meant something. It meant something to me. Why not him? I mean, who goes around kissing people at random? Apparently, Colin Martin did.

Closing my eyes, I thought about the warmth of his lips as they gently caressed mine. The way a shiver ran down my spine when his fingers tugged on my waist. If Colin was a disease I would want to be infected.

“Good morning, students,” said Mrs. Edwards as she walked to the front of the room.

Bonnie Edwards used to be a high school teacher. She was a mousy, brunette with A knack for proper etiquette . She had a petite stature and when she moved her short, stubby legs, she looked like she was waddling. Her shrill, high pitched voice resembled the sound a cat makes when someone was trying to drown it. And the sound of her voice made my skin crawl. My eyes shot open as Mrs. Edwards walked over to the dry erase board. “Everyone focus on the dry erase board,” Mrs. Edwards screeched. I cringed, keeping focused as she wrote a math problem on the board. Yeah, today was going to suck. Big time.

Toward the end of class, Colin nudged me trying to get my attention. I ignored him, pretending like I was absorbed in doing my math. When I didn’t respond, he waited a minute and nudged me again. “What do you want, Colin?” I asked, not looking up from my notepad.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked.

I kept my eyes on the paper, not meeting his gaze.Every time I thought I had control of our complexity of a situation he threw a curveball at me. “Being mad would require me actually caring.”

He guffawed, “Jesus Georgie, why do you have to be so harsh all the time?”

I threw my pencil down and glared at him. “You really want to know?” My harsh attitude toward him was a way to cover up the way I really felt. Colin scared me. The way I felt about him scared me. Now, he was probing me. And the only thing I could do was put all of my worries and fears out there.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

I exhaled. “I can’t tolerate guys like you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Guys like me?”

“Yes, guys like you. I went to school with hundreds of you. You’re full of yourself, you have a different girl every week, and your main goal in life is getting in her pants.” I lowered my voice. “And what happened between us, you might as well forget about it. Because it will never happen again.” Even though I wanted it to happen again. At least a dozen times more.

He looked at me distastefully. “You don’t know anything about me or what kind of guy I am.”

“Please,” I harrumphed. “Number one, I’ve witnessed it for myself. Two, I’ve heard all the rumors.”

“That’s exactly why they’re called rumors. Because they aren’t true.”

“I saw you with Anna Shafer. What you were doing with her looked pretty real to me. And according to everyone else, you got caught alone with girls on several different occasions.”

“I got caught once with, Anna. And I actually liked the girl. That just goes to show you how far people are willing to go to fabricate something other than the truth.”

That surprised me. I couldn’t even answer him right away. I had fed into the rumors just like everybody else. Let’s face it, the colony was beyond tiny. It was miniscule. When stories got spread around, it didn’t take long for them to reach everyone. And after the story got passed down from person to person. Each person added their own personal touch to it. In result, a full born rumor.I slumped down in my seat. “I’m sorry Colin, I didn’t know.”

He shook his head, disappointed. “That’s right. You didn’t know. So from now on, do me a favor. Don’t make assumptions when you don’t have a freaking clue.” He turned away from me, glaring in the opposite direction.

This was one of those open your mouth, insert foot moments. I thought about giving him a snide remark but, quickly retracted that idea. I reached out to touch his shoulder, but pulled back as Mr. Baker walked into the room carrying a white sheet of paper. His eyes swept over the classroom briefly, a hint of ferocity in them as he handed the piece of paper to Mrs. Edwards.

My squabble with Colin completely took my mind off of yesterday’s council meeting until I saw Mr. Baker. I scowled. I could see him in my mind, walking up to each member of the council and whispering the idea of making the teens of the colony gatherers. My eyes followed him as he scurried out of the room. Then, I looked at the dry erase board as Mrs. Edwards hung the paper up in front of it.

Panic rippled through my stomach. Mrs. Edwards didn’t even make eye contact with the rest of the students. Did that paper have the names of the first two selected in the lottery? It couldn’t be. They weren’t supposed to draw names until the end of the week.

“Is that what I think it is?” Grace blurted out. I was glad Grace asked first. Even though I was pretty sure every student in the room was thinking the same thing. Mrs. Edwards couldn’t even dignify us with an answer. She only gave a slight nod, her eyes wary.

“Son of a bitch,” I gasped. The table shook as Colin stirred next to me.

Grace spun around. “Georgie!” she scolded.

Gasps echoed throughout the classroom. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have used profanity. But it in light of recent events now was as good a time as any to use it. “Grace! Those bastards couldn’t even give us a week!”

The entire room went rigid. Nobody wanted to look at that paper and see their name on it. Nobody spoke either, leaving an unsettling silence. I looked over at Colin, who still wouldn’t meet my gaze. Finally, he got up off the bench and made his way to the dry erase board. “Might as well get this over with.”Colin brushed his finger along the top of the paper. He took his time reading, going over each letter, before he backed away. He walked back to his seat, acknowledging me. “Have a look, Georgie,” he commanded, a haughty tone in his voice.

I rose slowly, taking small, shaky steps to the board. When I reached it, my knees buckled and I staggered. I caught my balance by holding on to the edge of Mrs. Edward’s desk. My stomach did a back flip as the names on the paper burned into my brain.

The first two selected in the lottery were none other than Colin Martin and Georgina Carver.


Chapter 4: A Whole New World


But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear what they fear ; do not be frightened. Take Courage.

    
~ Peter 3:14


My vision was blurry and the muddy walls of the corridor spun around me as I stumbled back to my room. Half-way there, I dug my fingers into the dirt wall and exhaled slowly. Numb. I felt numb inside. My name on that paper didn’t seem real. Maybe I was dreaming. Colin stalked passed me and shouted over his shoulder. “Looks like it’s you and me, Georgie.”

“No,” I said in between breaths. But Colin was so far ahead of me he couldn’t hear me. The news didn’t seem to hit him as hard as it did me.

As I sulked back to my room an unsure feeling swept over me. Part of me was curious, anxious to see if the world above me had changed in the last two years. At the same time, anxiety set it. I was having a hard time breathing and by the time I reached my room, I was hyperventilating.

Tears stained my cheeks as I plopped down on my cot. Instantly, I spread my feet shoulder length apart, lowering my head as I tried to steady my breathing. Once I was certain I got a hold of myself, I lifted my head up as my mother walked through the door. She rushed over to me, concerned. She swept me up into an embrace. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she cooed.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and sucked back the tears. “I’m the first to go.”

My mother pulled away, an inch away from my face. She furrowed her brow, looking at me like I was speaking some foreign language. “What?”

“The lottery. I was selected,” I cried, feeling more tears brim in my eyes.

A wide range of emotion, passed over my mother’s face. First, it was concern, then it was confusion, now it was fear. “They weren’t supposed to draw names until the end of the week.”

I wiped at my face with my free hand. “I guess they drew them early.”“Who else was selected?” she asked, her voice detached.

“Colin Martin,” I answered.

She looked away, lost in some trance. “Good. The Martin boy is strong.”

My initial reaction to seeing my name was shock, almost too shocked to react at all. Colin acted so brave after he’d read his name, proud that he was going to be doing this service for our colony. I tried to hide my fear. I tried to pretend that I wasn’t afraid. After seeing my name on that paper, I held my head high nodding in agreement. But really, I was terrified my limbs were shaking. “Mom,” my voice trembled. “I’m afraid.” Who wouldn’t be afraid of an empty, unpredictable world? I felt like my death certificate had already been signed.

My eyes were drying up and I was starting to get used to the fact that I would now be out on my own in a deadly wilderness with Colin Martin. At least I wouldn’t be alone. That made me feel a little better. When I peered over at my mother, she was the one who now had fear in her eyes. She focused on the dirt wall, eyes searing with x-ray vision. It was like she was looking through the wall, observing what was behind it.

Waving my hand in front of her face, I tried to get her attention. It didn’t work. She didn’t break concentration. Then I positioned both of my hands on her shoulders and shook her, gently. “Mom.” She still didn’t respond. I shook her harder, desperate to snap her out of this catatonic phase. “Mom!”

She came to attention, blinking her eyes repeatedly. “Oh, Georgina. What is it, dear?” she asked.

I didn’t get the chance to answer her because, less than a second later my father walked into the room. “What’s going on here?” he questioned.

My mother turned toward him, sneering. For a second, I thought I actually heard her growl at him. “Nothing.” It was a short answer, but the way my mother said was full of brutality. She thought my misfortune of getting selected first was all of my father’s fault. She pulled me back into her arms, resting her chin on top of my head.

A frown spread across my father’s face. His youthful features aged in a matter of minutes. “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?”

“You mean your beloved council members haven’t told you?” my mother snapped.

“Told me what?”

“Georgina’s name was pulled for that stupid lottery.”

“What?” A baffled expression replaced the frown. “They weren’t supposed to draw names until the end of the week.” That seemed to be the statement of the hour.

“Yeah, well apparently they don’t stand by their word.”

I peeked up at my father, who remained silent. He gazed at me intensely for a minute or two, then left the room.

My mother pressed her lips into the top of my head. “Don’t you worry sweetheart, I’m going to get you out of this.”

* * *


But she couldn’t get me out of it. I had to admire her efforts though. Never in a million years did I think I would see my mother resort to begging. That just shows you what lengths a parent is willing to go to for their child.

She collapsed onto her knees in the mess hall , yanking on Mr. Baker’s pant leg. “Please Mark. Please. I’ll go in her place.”

Mr. Baker’s eyes washed over the room, giving people a reassuring smile, and a nod. “Get up, Marcy. You look ridiculous,” he said, not breaking his smile. The last thing he wanted to do was look bad in front of the colony.

My mother rose to her feet and brushed her sandy, blond hair away from her face. “You have kids, Mark. Wouldn’t you be doing the same thing if they were selected?”

“No,” said Mr. Baker.

“Then you’re heartless and you don’t deserve to be a parent.” I didn’t expect what happened next to occur. My mother pulled her hand back and slapped Mr. Baker across the face.

Whispers broke out through the mess hall and several kids at my table turned to look at me, Colin included. “Now I know where you get your spunk from, Georgie.”

Mr. Baker held his face, and my father grabbed my mother by the shoulders. “Come on Marcy, I’ll take you back to the room.”

My mother dug her elbow into my father’s stomach and pushed him away. “Don’t touch me, Doug!” she shrieked.

My father remained hunched over, exhaling slowly.“Marcy.”He grimaced.

She spun around, pointing her finger in his face. “This is all your fault!” That was the last thing she said before she stormed out of the mess hall.

Grace glanced at me, her eyes worried. “I think your mom has seriously lost her mind.” I was beginning to think that too.

In my room, I took some time to myself to think. Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them, hugging them. I looked up to see my father lingering in the door way. “What’s up dad?”

One tear drizzled down his cheek. He wiped it away in a hurry, hoping that I wouldn’t catch him crying. “Can you ever forgive me, Georgina?”

I smiled, half-heartedly. Technically, this wasn’t all his fault. There were fourteen other members of the council who had just as big of a part in this as he did. And seeing that solitary tear on his cheek made me realize that he was sorry he voted in favor of the lottery in the first place. “It’s okay, Daddy. You’re forgiven.”

“I just hope your mother can forgive me too,” he sighed.

“Give her time. You know Mom, she’ll come around eventually.” The only problem was I didn’t know when that would be.

When my father left the room, I got up from my cot and walked over to a small table in the corner of my room. The round, unsteady wooden table had a half-folded over white piece of paper resting on top of it. Georgina, was scrawled across the top of the paper in messy handwriting.

Picking the paper up, I flipped it open as I brought it closer to my face. I scanned my message. It was short, simple and to the point.


Meet me in the rec at midnight.

    
Colin.


Even though I knew meeting him like this was risky, I went anyway. The first to arrive, I sat in the back of the dark classroom. The silence cut through the room like a sharp knife cutting through a block of cheese. Suddenly, I felt something move behind me.

Squinting, I tried to make out the presence as my eyes adjusted to the blackness that engulfed me. “Hello,” I whispered.

Arms slipped around my waist from behind as a warm chin nuzzled my neck. “I knew you would come,” Colin whispered into my ear.

I removed his arms from my waist and turned to face him. “Is this what you wanted me to come for? A midnight fling?” I still couldn’t see him clearly. It was way too dark. Reaching out, I brushed my fingers along his face. When I finally realized he was about six inches away from me, I dropped my hands at my sides.

He scooted closer to me. “That’s not why I asked you to come,” he said.

“Then why did you?” The heat from his body poured out of him and radiated onto to me. I enjoyed basking in the warmth of him. Sometimes, when you lived this far beneath the earth’s surface it got a little chilly.

“I wanted to talk.”

“Talk?”

“Yeah. To see how you were holding up.”

“What do you think, genius?”

“I think you’re scared.”

“Of course I’m scared, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. I would have volunteered for this if they would have let me. I happen to think it’s kind of ironic that I got selected in the first round.”

“I happen to think it’s kind of ironic that I got paired with you.” If I would have known better one would think he actually planted the idea in the council’s head so I would be paired with him.

He let out a restrained laugh. “I think it’s fate.”

“I don’t believe in fate anymore.” The Great Famine took away every ounce of fate I had left. How could we be destined for something like this?

“Don’t say that, Georgie,” Colin cooed. He ran his fingers through my hair, curling it around his fingertips. A spark resonated from his touch and brought goose bumps to my skin.

Then it hit me. I didn’t feel like talking to him anymore. I had too much on my mind. All of this I want to know—how you’re feeling—bull, was making me nauseous. Scooting my chair away from him, I got up and walked toward the door. He moved behind, tiptoeing forward until he placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you. I will always protect you.”

With that said, he brushed past me, leaving me standing alone in the doorway. That was a very gallant notion. “I will always protect you.” I just hoped that when it came down to it, Colin stayed true to his word. Not that I really needed his protection. Well, in physical battles, yes his protection could be of use.

There was no doubt in my mind that physically, he was ten times stronger than I would ever be. But mentally, I had him beat. I was cunning, smart, and could think outside of the box in most situations.

Don’t get me wrong, Colin wasn’t a moron. But that little light bulb in his head didn’t always flicker on when it was supposed to. Sometimes it took him a few minutes to catch onto something when he was presented with it.

* * *


The next few days flew by and before I could even catch my breath, Sunday was only two days away.

Mr. Baker had Colin and I removed from classes on Wednesday and Friday so that he could educate us on what to expect when we breached the earth’s surface. We sat at a little table in the council room as Mr. Baker paced back and forth in front of us. “Don’t expect to see the earth you once knew. There is nothing familiar. There is nothing pretty.”Colin and I nodded in unison as we continued to listen attentively. “Be on the lookout for traps set by cannibals. They are extremely smart and manipulative. They might appear to be in some kind of trouble, but they aren’t. That is their way of baiting you.” Mr. Baker stopped pacing and faced us both. “You’ll be given four hours to look for supplies. Keep to the task at hand, stay together, and do not under any circumstances, separate. You’ll each be given a knapsack with rations, water, and a list of some items we need.”

At the moment, this seemed like a lot of information to be absorbed in one sitting. I tried to keep my mind on all the things he was telling me to do, but there were too many other things going in my life right now. My complicated situation with Colin, my parents practically breaking up, the thought that I might never actually come back to this world once I left, and the fact that since my mother’s altercation with Mr. Baker in the mess hall, she was nowhere to be found.

I tuned Mr. Baker out as he rambled on. Hopefully, Colin would digest everything that was being explained to him. I eyed Mr. Baker oddly, wondering if he had something to do with her disappearance. Me, I wouldn’t have put it past him. The man didn’t like to be crossed. And my mother didn’t just rub him the wrong way—she humiliated him, in front of the whole colony for that matter. And my father, he didn’t have anything to do with it, did he?

Silently, I disagreed with that theory. I had watched my father for the last couple days as he sat alone in the mess hall, crying into his food. That wasn’t acting. That was depression and self-blame.

“Do you two understand?” Mr. Baker wrapped it up with a simple question.

“I understand,” I said.

“Ditto,” said Colin.

Mr. Baker nodded. “Good. Be ready at noon on Sunday. You have to be waiting at the exit near the Carver’s quarters five minutes prior to departure.

That night, I decided to sneak out on my own in search of my mother. Hours later, I had gone through every room in the entire colony with no sign of her. The only room I didn’t look in was the hole. And as I stood in front of the big boulder that served as a door, I questioned myself on whether I wanted to open it or not.

If I opened it and she was there, I might of actually considered killing Mr. Baker. I’d wrap my hands around that chubby, little weasel’s neck and squeeze the life right out of him. And if I opened it and she wasn’t there, that could only mean that she left the colony and could never return. I bounced both scenarios around in my brain, unable to make a decision.

Then I heard a voice coming out of the shadows.“Georgina,” the voice whispered. I spun around to nothing. The only lighting in the corridor were candles that hung on the walls.

A tall, misshapen shadow bounced from wall-to-wall as it closed in on me. “Wh-Who is there?” I stammered.No answer. The shadow continued moving. Closer. Closer. And closer until I recognized who it was. “Mom?”

She extended her arms to me and folded me into a hug as I collapsed into her. “Yes, sweetheart, it’s me.”

Nuzzling my head in her shoulder, I couldn’t let go. I feared that if I did that maybe she would disappear. Maybe she wasn’t real. Was I dreaming? “ Mom,” I began, “Where have you been?”

She smoothed my hair back but didn’t let go of me. “I’ve just been staying with the Vickers for a few days. That’s all.”

“And you couldn’t tell me? I was worried. Why do you think I was out in this dark hallway? I was looking for you.”

“Listen Georgie, I don’t expect you to understand. I was very upset with your father and I just thought it was best to stay away for a while.”

She was right. I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand how she could just run away from her problems when she should be facing them. It was a very coward-like thing to do.

The last few years, we all had faced hardships, but eventually we did get through them. “Mom, do you even know what it’s been like for dad? He hasn’t eaten. He hasn’t slept. He’s been a mess! You need to talk to him!”

She hesitated at first, then nodded. I led her down the corridor, brushing my fingertips against the moist walls. I stopped across from an open doorway and pushed her into her old room. I paused for a moment at the door. Then I heard my father’s cry of joy. “Marcy! I’m so sorry!”

“I’m sorry too, Doug,” my mother whispered.

A twinge of triumph flooded through me as I lied in bed that night. It felt amazing to do something good for someone else. It felt so good that it completely took my mind off of Sunday, and Colin—two of the most complicated things in my life.


Chapter 5: The Day From Hell


Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.

    
~ Hebrews 13:3


Five minutes to noon. I stood below the rope ladder that would take me up to earth, tapping my foot nervously. He was supposed to be here by now. Where the hell was he? I glanced up at the rope ladder trying to decipher exactly how high up we would be climbing. Ten, maybe twelve feet.

Colin jogged down the corridor, stopping right in front of me. He had two knapsacks with him. One on each shoulder. He took the one off of his right shoulder, handing it to me. I snatched the knapsack forcefully. “Geez, it took you long enough. Mr. Baker said we had to be here five minutes before noon.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Mr. Baker is the reason I’m late.” He held up his knapsack, shaking it at me. “We wouldn’t be going anywhere without these knapsacks.”

“Whatever.”

My father emerged from his room, followed by my mother and Frankie. He carried two surgical masks in his hand and passed one to me and one to Colin. “Put these on when you get up there,” he instructed. “We don’t know what kind of toxins remain in the air.”

Frankie lunged for me as a crowd began to form in front of us. She slid her arms around my waist, squeezing. “Frankie,” I forced out, “I can’t breathe.”

She loosened her grip, still holding on. “Be careful.”

I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, hugging her. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”

My mother moved forward, prying Frankie off of me. Mr. Baker  pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers, coming to a halt in between me and Colin. He looked between us warily. “You have four hours. There is a watch in one of your knapsacks. You must be back within that four hour mark, no later. And remember what we talked about in our sessions. This will not be the earth that you knew.”

Colin motioned me over to the ladder. “Ladies first,” he crooned.

I put my mask on, grabbed both sides of the ladder and began the climb. I could feel the ladder pull as Colin climbed up behind me. Claustrophobia began to set in as the tunnel surrounding us got smaller and smaller.

Halfway to the top, I stopped looking over my shoulder at the ground. I tensed up realizing that if I slipped, my limbs would be contorted and mangled on the concrete. Colin shook his head, knowing exactly what I was thinking. “Just keep going,” he commanded. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”

Once I reached the top, I placed my hand flat on the boulder above me and started pushing. It didn’t budge. I pivoted around on the ladder, facing Colin, and rammed myback into it. It still didn’t move. Colin climbed up farther, sliding his body over the top of mine. Our combined weight on the flimsy rope ladder made it dip. “The rope is going to snap!”

“It’s not going to snap,” said Colin, who seemed sure of himself. “You need to chill out.” Colin placed both of his hands flat on the boulder. “We’ll push together. One…Two… Three.”I shoved into the rock, letting out a loud grunt as I felt the rock going up into the air. “Keep pushing!” Colin shouted. I bent my knees to give myself some more force and continued pushing.

Closing my eyes with one final push, I felt the rock slide away from my hands as it made a loud thud on the ground.There was a round, dirt room above me with an opening at the end of it. I hoisted myself out of the hole, extending my hand to Colin. Yanking on his hand, I retreated backward, pulling him. After he was out of the hole, he walked toward the light at the end of the room. My knees locked in place and I couldn’t move.

Nervousness set in. A few steps and I would be completely out of my safety zone. My only protection would be Colin. And I didn’t know if he could handle what was really out there.

When Colin realized that I wasn’t following him, he stopped, turned around, and walked back to me. “Come on Georgina. It’s better that we do this sooner rather than later.”

I tried to move my feet but they were still locked in place. “I can’t,” I whined. What happened to me being brave?

Colin looked down at my feet then up at my face. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“No.”

“Well, if you don’t get a move on it, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

One by one, I lifted my feet, taking small, steady steps forward. I almost came to a stop again, but Colin placed his hands on my back, urging me forward. The light that came through the opening at the end of the room wasn’t sunlight. Just brightness, that stunned my eyes from being underground so long.

As I walked out of the opening, followed by Colin, Mr. Baker’s words replayed in my mind. “This will not be the earth you knew.” He was right about that.

Even after the asteroid hit us, there was still a small resemblance to the earth I grew up with. A patch of grass. A flower here and there. Trees, even though they were dead. But what was in front of me was like nothing I’d ever seen.

The gray, dismal skyline stretched on for as far as I could see. The white, fluffy clouds that used to be suspended in the sky were gone. Dust particles hung in the air like debris floating around in space. Giant piles of rock surrounded us and as I looked to my left, a sign that said ‘Welcome To Lincoln,’ dangled off of a metal pole by one, tiny bolt.

There was no road. Everything was covered by loose dirt that formed funnel clouds when tossed up by the wind. I spun around, taking in every angle of my surroundings. Earth had turned into this massive, bleak desert. But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was the human remains that lined each side of the road.

Skulls, rib cages, bones from arm and legs, stuck out, half buried in the layers of dirt. I couldn’t begin to express the amount of sorrow I felt at that exact moment. What made these people so different from me and Colin? Why did they have to die? Bending over, I lifted the skull of a child out of the dirt and examined it.

This child couldn’t have been any older than a toddler. A memory of Frankie flashed through my brain. The way she used to waddle behind me when she was that age. The way her cherub cheeks used to touch her eyes when she laughed. It hit me all at once. This could have been her.

Dropping the skull, tears flowed out of my eyes, streaming down my cheeks and resting in the corners of my mouth. They tasted like salt water. As more came out, I did my best to hold them back. I didn’t want Colin to see me being so weak.

As we meandered farther into what remained of the city, the piles of rock grew bigger and got closer together. These must have been some of the tall office buildings that were in the heart of the city. The frames of cars were parked next to the rubble. Their insides, hollowed out and charred.

Colin walked a few feet in front of me. He stopped, motioning me forward. “You need to learn to keep up!” he shouted, the sound of his voice muffled from his face mask.

I took longer, faster strides as I neared him. “Forgive me if this is a lot to take in!” I shouted back.

When I finally caught up to him, he pointed to giant pile of rocks to my right. “I think we should start over there!”

Setting my knapsack down, I fished through it, retrieving the list Mr. Baker packed for me. The only positive note about being up here was that digging for these supplies appeared to be some sort of game—almost like a scavenger hunt. Standing upright, a muffled cry for Colin escaped my lips. “Colin!” He wasn’t paying attention. He had worked his way up to the top of the pile of rocks. He was bent down, his back facing me, rummaging through his knapsack. “Colin!” I shouted again.

He craned his head, glancing over his shoulder. “What?”

I lifted up my list, shaking it. “Is your list the same as mine?”

He held up his finger. “One sec,” he said. Then he turned back around and continued digging through the knapsack.

Less than a minute had passed, and he jumped up, his list, clutched in his grasp. “Read some of the items off of your list!”

I held my paper with both hands, spouting off the first few items, “Rope, a plastic tarp, batteries….”

“Stop!” he exclaimed, before I could utter another word.

“Our lists are different!”

“What’s on yours?”

“Why does that matter? The point is we both have different items to look for. I suggest we both start digging!”

Nodding, I folded up my list and shoved it in my back pocket. I memorized the first three items, deciding that after I found those items, I would take the list back out and memorize the next three. Then, after hesitating for a few seconds, I picked up the first piece of rock and tossed it aside.

* * *


Thirty minutes later, after moving several rocks, and finding none of the items on the list, I moved to my right, focusing on a another area. Sheer beads of sweat formed on my forehead and I paused for a moment to rest and wipe it away. But, just when I lowered my arm, I saw a massive boulder tumbling down the pile, heading straight for me.

Trembling with fear, I tried to jump to the side to escape the collision. But my foot was stuck, pinned underneath another rock. No…

I bent down, tugging at my foot, trying desperately to free it. No…. It wasn’t budging. Even worse, the sound of the boulder cracking against the other rocks was getting closer.

Standing, I tried running in the opposite direction. I hoped that if I put more force into trying to unpin my foot, I could free myself, but it wasn’t working. Now, I was panicking, using up all of my energy. The boulder was so close I could feel the wind from it, making the hairs on my arms stand up. “Colin!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. I hadn’t seen him since we got started. And now the boulder was blocking my view of top of the rock pile. “COLIN!HELP!”

The boulder was inches away. I tried again to yank my foot free. There was nothing I could do. Finally, I just closed my eyes and waited for the boulder to flatten me. Better that I die by being flattened by a boulder than a cannibal feasting on my organs.

Then again, when the boulder flattened me, it was a sure thing that the cannibals that were lurking around here would smell the scent of my blood in the air. They’d have their makeshift knives and forks ready—to cut into me. And even though I was thin I would be like a Thanksgiving dinner for them. Yeah, either way I looked at it, I was as good as dead.


Chapter 6: Save Me


My punishment is greater than I can bear.

    
~ Genesis 4.13


A pair of muscular arms swept across both of my shoulders. I felt myself being lifted high in the air—almost like I was floating. Had the boulder already squashed me? If so, I didn’t feel it. I imagined that if I were crushed it wouldn’t be something that was painless. One time, when I was a kid, Frankie ran over my big toe with a toddler scooter. It hurt like hell. And that was only my big toe. The boulder would have flattened my whole body.

My eyes were squinted shut and I refused to look down. If I was floating up toward the great beyond, I didn’t want to remember what my mangled body looked like. Blood flowing out in mini rivers, bones protruding from my flesh, my skull caved in. I shuddered just thinking about it.

I went higher and higher into the air. The time sequence that passed by made everything feel like it was moving in slow motion. Like I was moving in slow motion. Shouldn’t this process move a little faster? Shouldn’t I be closer to heaven by now?

I snapped back to reality, when something slammed me into the ground. My eyes flew open as the wind was knocked out of my lungs and I watched astonished as the boulder rolled past me, scraping the side of my ankle. “What the?” I coughed out.As the white spots faded from my peripheral vision and my surroundings became more in focus, I turned to the side to see Colin, lying next to me, his arms still wrapped firmly around my shoulders. “Colin?” A hoarse, raspy sound escaped my throat as I spoke his name. I swallowed hard, continued to steady my breathing, and cleared my throat.

Colin didn’t open his eyes. He remained on the ground—his body was rigid, frozen—like he was trapped underneath ice. I gasped as I poked him with my finger. “Oh no. Colin. Wake up.”

He didn’t move. I pried his arms off of my shoulders and contorted my body to face his. “Colin! Please!” Still nothing. He was starting to scare me. Maybe he hit his head too hard and knocked himself out.

What if he had brain damage?

What if he was…?

No. I couldn’t even think of that. He had to be alive. He just had to be. I got down on all fours, gripped both of his shoulders, and shook him. “Get up, Colin! You hear me! Please get up!”

At first, I shook him softly, then when nothing happened I shook him so hard that his head started flinging back and forth. “GET UP!” After slowing down the shaking I sat back on my knees. A sharp sob left my throat as tears rained down my cheeks. “Get up,” I whimpered. “Get up.”

Those were the only two words I could get out. “Get up.”

At one point I was sobbing so hard that I couldn’t breathe. A dull ache formed in my rib cage and I had to press my hand against it to make it go away. Wailing, tears fell into my mouth and the salty taste from them tickled my taste buds. “Colin.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Get up.”

As the waterworks kept flowing, I pulled my legs to my chest and curled up into a tight ball. I felt numb. And what made things worse was if he actually—I still couldn’t say it—this all happened because he saved my life. He pulled me away from that boulder. At that very moment, I would have rather been crushed by it. “You should have let me die,” I said with a detached tone.

Now I was alone. And now, more than ever, I was terrified. Colin knew his way around up here. He knew how to get back to the colony. I was completely co-dependent on him. How would I get back? What could I do? And I couldn’t just leave his body here. I could hear the council members in the back of my mind. “If he’s gone, leave him.” That’s exactly what Mr. Baker would say. His distasteful frown presented itself in my head when I came to the conclusion of what I had to do next.

Whether the council agreed with me or not, Colin was someone’s child. He was a person. Not just a scrap that you tossed along the side of the road and waited for someone to clean up. And he died—I finally said it—saving my life. He would not be a meal for a cannibal. I would not leave his body up here to rot. He was coming back to the colony with me. And I’d tell Mr. Baker, if he decided to put in his two cents, that he could shove his words right up his ass.

Sliding closer, I wrapped my arms around Colin and held him. I tightened my grip around his back and sobbed again. If this was the last day I was going to spend with Colin Martin, I was going to make it count. Removing my face mask, I planted my lips on his forehead, allowing them to linger there for a moment.

After I pulled away, I pushed his beautiful, midnight colored hair away from his face and just gazed at him. He was beautiful in life and even beautiful in death. I brushed my fingers against his creamy, smooth cheek, finally resting them in the crook of his neck. I stared, lost in a daze, at his long eyelashes. The way the brightness in the sky reflected off them made them shimmer. I took off his face mask and his profound, chiseled jawline was contorted at angle that made the muscles in chin flex.

Normally, I was a guarded person. I kept everything inside, too afraid that if I let out how I was really feeling, it might make me seem weak. In the world we lived in, the weak didn’t last. They were picked off one by one—either eaten before our colony was established—or cast out because they had nothing to contribute or because they couldn’t contribute.

It was safe to let it all out now. There was no one here to really hear me, except for Colin. And as much as I hated to keep thinking it, I had to accept that, Colin was dead.

I nestled my head in the fold of his elbow and peered directly into his closed eyes. “I’m so sorry I was so nasty to you. I never meant to be that way,” I admitted. “I’ve never been really comfortable expressing the way I feel.” More tears rolled out of my eyes and I wiped the wetness off of my cheeks. “The truth of it is, that I have always liked you. I’ve have always felt something for you. Something more than anything that I could ever explain,” I sniffled. Finally, I snuggled up close to him, kissing his cheek. Then I leaned in, my lips right above his ear. “I loved you.” That was the honest to God truth. I felt terrible that I couldn’t admit it to myself until now.

There were times when I’d see him and just a small smirk on his lips would make my heart flutter. And when he touched me, even if it was only him brushing against me as I walked to the mess hall, It felt like every one of my limbs was on fire, and like there was an electric voltage in my legs, causing me to charge forward, and at the same time my brain was telling me that I needed to be closer to him.

Exhaling, a wave of relief washed over me. I had been holding everything in for so long that it was really starting to bother me. I would have cracked eventually and it was better that I told him. Even if he couldn’t actually hear me.

Seconds later, I rolled Colin onto his back and laid down on top of him. Just a few more minutes. I just wanted to lay with him for a few more minutes before I dragged his body back. Before I dealt with Mr. Baker. And before I gave Colin’s parent’s the bad news, that their son was dead. “You’re lucky, you know,” I stated as I placed my head on his chest, “You’re free of this awful world that we live in.” I laughed. “You might even be able to float on a cloud if you want to. Imagine what that would be like?”

Sighing, I squeezed him as hard as I could, my ear to his chest, never wanting to let go. And as I inhaled softly, debating on when I should pry myself away from him, that was when I heard it. A soft, repetitive thumping. The sound of a heartbeat.


Chapter 7: Tricky Tricky


Ye shall be as Gods, knowing good and evil.

    
~ Genesis 3.5


At first, I thought I was delusional. I was so overcome with grief I thought I might be having some sort of screwed up fantasy, but as I pressed my ear harder into his chest, and I heard it loud and clear. A heartbeat. And it wasn’t mine…

It was Colin’s. 

My head whipped upward and I scowled at him, “Oh, no.”I scrambled backwards, getting to my feet and peered down at him as he let out a gust of air from his lungs.

“Georgie,” he wheezed. Then he caught his breath and sinister smirk spread across his lips. “Did I ever tell you I was on the swim team in high school? Did you know that I held the record for holding my breath under water the longest.”

My breaths were short and rapid. My cheeks were red and tingling. None of this was funny. I was seconds away from killing him all over again. And this time it would be for real.

“Do you know what that record was?” Colin went on.

“No,” I said, grinding my teeth together.

“Three. Whole. Minutes,” he bragged as he sat upright. Then he began laughing. He laughed so loud the sound of his deep voice echoed off of the piles of rubble surrounding us. “You were like a depressing record,” he said in between laughs, “I never knew you were so emotional.” Colin rose to his feet and wiped the dust from his clothes. “You’re lucky, he mocked. “You’re free of this awful world that we live in.” Again more laughter. He hunched over and hugged his sides to catch his breath.

And me, I was fuming.

That was a cruel, wicked, evil prank to play on someone. To play dead like that, especially in the situation we were in was…. I couldn’t even come up with more words. The only thing I was focused on was how much I despised him at that very moment.

“You’re a jerk!” I yelled.

Colin exhaled, still smiling. He walked over and placed his hands on shoulders. “Calm down. It was just a joke.”

“A crappy joke.” As much as I tried to settle down I couldn’t. I felt betrayed. He probably just did what he did to see how I would react and I cursed myself for being so stupid. I backed away from him, stomping in the opposite direction. “Stay away from me!”

He grabbed me by the hand. “Georgie,” he sighed.

Yanking my hand away, I whipped my free hand around and backhanded him. “I said stay away from me!”

Colin’s mouth dropped open as he cupped the right side of his face. “Georgina, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry. Well, I am. I’m sorry.”

I marched forward ignoring him. “Leave me alone.”

“You can’t go off on your own! Mr. Baker said we have to stay together! And we haven’t found any supplies, yet!”

“I’m sure you can manage without me. And if you die this time, believe me, none of my tears will be shed over you.”

Pretty soon, I was far enough away from him that all I could hear was his voice echoing, “Georgina, drop the bitch act! It was a joke! Now come back here! You’ll be eaten alive out there.”

“I’d rather be eaten alive than spend any more time with you!” That was the last thing I said to him. And if he did shout something back, I couldn’t hear what he said. There had to be at least a mile between us and in my opinion; a mile wasn’t far enough.

My blood was boiling, and twice during my walk, I shrieked out so loud that I thought some of the anger, might have escaped through those screams but it didn’t.

The tattered sign that read Lincoln, Nebraska dangled over my head as I plopped down on a pile of metal and rocks. “I can’t believe him,” I growled. He had me so worried that I was frantic. I poured my heart out to him. And what do I get? Some joke. Some sick, twisted joke.

I kicked a rock in front of me and watched as it rolled across the dusty road. Seriously, what was he thinking? And why in God’s name would he think that I would think that any of this was funny? When I pictured him laughing, I had the urge to scream again. Instead, I picked up an even bigger rock and chucked it across the road. I focused on the tiny dust particles that circled in the air every time the rock bounced.

Part of me wanted to be elated that he was alive and not dead. When he initially stood up, there was a miniscule second where I thought about tackling him and placing at least a dozen kisses on cheeks. The educated part of me knew that how I reacted would be the way anyone in my situation would have reacted.

I thought of my parents. I imagined my mother’s face if my father ever pulled a stunt like this. Yeah, I don’t think even when my father was Colin’s age, he would have ever played a joke like that on my mother. After mulling it over it my mind, I came to the conclusion that I was not overreacting about Colin’s joke. Not at all.

* * *


After sitting in the same spot for about an hour, and tossing at least twenty more rocks across the road, I felt like I had finally calmed down. The brightness in the sky was starting to dim slightly and now I focused on another task. Finding Colin.

“Damn it,” I cursed as I wandered back the way I came. It probably wasn’t a good thing that I let my temper get the best of me. I shouldn’t have wandered off. I could have stayed with him and ignored him, while the rage inside me was writhing. No. That wasn’t a good idea, either.

When Frankie was a toddler, she used to do the same thing. She’d sit there and let her anger build. And build. And build up more. Until finally she was throwing a full-on temper tantrum. And those temper tantrums lasted for hours. They usually happened at night, so I’d be forced to listen to her incessant wailing as my parents tried to calm her down.

The next morning, I’d be exhausted because unlike Frankie, I had to get up for school. “Never be afraid to unleash a little bit of your temper,” my Mom would say. “It’s not good for you hold it in.” It was that simple memory got me up off that pile of trash and walking again.

As I walked down the road, something off to the side caught my eye, and whatever it was, it was sparkling. Glancing in both directions, my eyes rested on a piece of sharpened metal sticking out of the ground. I was definitely nervous to be out here all alone. That piece of metal would be an excellent weapon for me if I was attacked. But, I hesitated before picking it up.

Cannibals were blood sucking, flesh eating, bone picking humans/monsters, but they were very cunning and they were very smart. I had never seen any of their traps up close and personal but I had heard plenty of stories. The one that terrified me the most was one that Mr. Vickers told.

Once, when he was a gatherer, he found a glass jar, still intact, sticking out of the ground. Any gatherer that came across an object we could use would take the object, so Mr. Vickers yanked on the glass jar, pulling it out of the ground, and noticed there was a string attached to it.

He unwound the yards of string until he couldn’t anymore. The string became taught and he resorted to tugging on it. A few forceful tugs later, a female cannibal erupted from the dirt. She was extremely hungry. I remembered this part of the story specifically because Mr. Vickers put such emphasis on it. “You should have seen her,” he said, an eerie tone to his voice. “Her face was hollow and sunken in, like she was rotting away from the outside to the inside. Her teeth were sharpened to form fangs, and white saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth.” But that wasn’t the worst of it. “She snapped her teeth at me, like a beast with rabies, and when I looked down, I noticed the bulge in her stomach,” he paused to catch himself, because he was on the verge of tearing up. “She was pregnant.”

To me, that was more frightening than her resorting to cannibalism. I assumed that she was like the rest of the cannibals, homeless, abandoned, and starving. Her unborn child probably died in the womb because of the malnutrition. When you can’t eat, the living being inside of you can’t eat. Therefore it would not grow.

I turned away from the metal on the side of the road. I kept walking. No picking anything up off the side of the road today.


Chapter 8: Waiting And Drowning In Emptiness


It is not good that the man should be alone.

    
~ Genesis 2:18


When I arrived at the spot where I had left Colin, he wasn’t there. That wasn’t a shock. I figured he wouldn’t wait around for me. After all, he probably assumed that I wouldn’t be coming back. Especially after I slapped him. A tiny grin spread across my face when I thought about my mother slapping Mr. Baker across the face. I didn’t mind that I inherited her spunk at all.

I sat down on the boulder that almost made me a human pancake an hour earlier. Of course, it was now at the bottom of the pile of rubble and three medium-sized rocks kept it pinned there. I stared out in front of me and squealed in delight. “My knapsack!” I had abandoned it during my fit of rage—thanks to Colin.

After grabbing it, I slumped down in front of the boulder, and removed a piece of flat bread and my canteen of water. My stomach howled, churned, and gurgled. Yeah, I was pretty hungry. I was surprised that I didn’t notice my hunger pains until now. Then again, I had a lot on my mind at the time.

Picking the bread apart into pieces, I nibbled on few of the pieces, still feeling distracted. I wondered where Colin went and when or if he would come back here looking for me.

Focusing on two rocks in front of me, I chewed the bread mechanically, not able to enjoy it when I was hit with an epiphany.“Georgina, you idiot,” I said as I swallowed.

Colin and I were supposed to be out here looking for supplies. Two hours, maybe three, had already passed and the council said that we only had four hours to look for the items on our list. Because of everything that had gone down earlier, I completely forgot about our mission—the reason that Colin and I were elected to come up here in the first place.

Reaching into the front pocket of my knapsack, I removed my list, scanned it quickly, and peered up at the mountain of rocks in front of me. “Well,” I said aloud. “Might as well try to find at least one thing on my list while I’m waiting.”

As I climbed to the top of the mountain, the worn out soles on my tennis shoes made me slip when they brushed against some of the flat, smooth rocks. I stumbled, almost falling down.

“Wwhhoa,” my voice shook as I steadied my flailing arms. I caught my balance when I clutched on to a massive, triangular piece of debris rock. The layered edging and worn out banner across the front of it reminded me of the top of the building at the old city hall.

The City Hall was one of my favorite buildings to look at. It had such an ornate and antique feel to it. I used to marvel at the stone gargoyles on the top and fantasized what it would be like to see them soaring through the endless periwinkle sky. My lips curled up into a smile. Ah, memories.

When I finally reached the top of rock mountain, I was proud that I had climbed all the way to the top. I wasn’t even winded. And I felt like I had climbed at least a dozen mountains in my life. Which was a lie. I’d never climbed anything. I didn’t even like the jungle gym on the playground.

It wasn’t until I saw my bleak surroundings that the proud feeling inside of me vanished. Instead, depression set in. I was so sick and tired of the thick mass of gray all along the skyline. I was tired of not being able to see the beautiful, glowing sun, and scowled at the sight of the roads that were covered with a mixture of ashes and dirt.

I wanted to see houses, buildings, roads, cars, and most of all, I wanted to see the earth alive again. I wanted to see the endless green stretching on for miles. Flowers in an assortment of colors blossoming. Cows out in the pastures chewing on the grass.

Then I thought about my home. I couldn’t spot where it used to be. But as I closed my eyes, it came back to me, like a dream. There used to an open field behind our house. Frankie and I played many games of tag in that field. We frolicked, picked dandelion bouquets, had picnics, and even stayed out late at night in the summer to catch lightening bugs.

Every Sunday morning, during the summer, my father would hop on his riding mower and mow the grass. That was one of my favorite scents—freshly-cut grass. After he’d finished the lawn, I’d walk out the sliding glass door and inhale deeply. I’d never again be able to experience that. But I should have been happy that I had any fond memories of what earth used to be like at all.

A few women in the colony had given birth since it had been established and I felt sorry for those new infants. For the rest of their lives, they would only be able to picture what the earth was like from stories that would be passed down to them. They’d never truly be able to experience the real beauty of it for themselves.

I snapped out of my trance, and my attention averted to my feet as a rock underneath my left foot began to wobble. “Time to start digging,” I groaned. Then I picked up the first rock and tossed it aside.

* * *


Minutes passed. Then an hour. I was a least threefeet down in the hole of rocks that I dug out and still hadn’t found one item on my list. What were the council members thinking, only giving us four hours? At the rate I was going, it was going to take me days. Maybe Colin was having better luck, wherever he was. He still hadn’t returned.

Grunting, I picked up a medium-sized rock. I chucked over the side of the hole. “I better find something soon,” I mumbled to myself. Every time I picked up a rock I was digging a deeper and deeper hole for myself. And I didn’t know how I would get out of it when it was time for me to go back.

Speaking of the time, it had to be dwindling down. I peeked up out of my hole and looked at my knapsack. Mr. Baker said that we only had four hours and I knew that a couple hours had passed before I started. Mr. Baker also said that one of our knapsacks contained a watch, so we’d know when to come back. The only problem was he didn’t say which knapsack contained the watch.

Colin didn’t mention anything about the watch so it had to be in mine, somewhere. I had gone through it earlier but only briefly. I didn’t examine everything that was inside of it. Or maybe Colin did have the watch and never got the chance to tell me because I stormed off.

Either way, I knew I was cutting it close time-wise. So, I made a mental note that I would only move a couple more rocks and if I didn’t find anything, I’d chalk it up as a loss and move on.

What could the council say? If we didn’t find anything, we didn’t find anything. The outside world was vast and confusing for teenagers who hadn’t seen it in so long.

Picking up another rock, I followed the same routine, tossing over the side of the hole. Then my eyes centered on something black that was peeking through some smaller rocks.

Delighted, I got down on my knees and brushed the various pebbles away. I yanked on the black item, which had the same texture as an inner tube, and fell backwards as I freed it.

My back slammed into something sharp. and warm liquid oozed down my spine. I was bleeding. Truthfully, it seemed like every inch of my body was bleeding. My hands were cut pretty bad from handling some of the sharper rocks. Flaps of my skin dangled at my palms. I had gashes across my shins from the climb up, and not to mention the cut I got on my ankle when Colin saved me from my potential squashing. Now I could add my back to the tally. And I didn’t even care, because I was distracted by something else entirely. I had finally found one item on my list. “A tarp!” I exclaimed.

That was it. That was all I wanted. One item and I was happy. It wouldn’t have bothered me that much if I went back without any, but a twinge of failure would still be gnawing at me. What if Colin finally found me and he had every item on his list?A horrified expression formed on my face when I thought of Mr. Baker. “Did you find anything?” he’d ask. Of course Colin would dump out his knapsack and beam proudly as he displayed every item on his list. Then Mr. Baker would turn to me. “And what about you, Georgina?” That would never happen but, I still felt the embarrassment of the fake scenario—my cheeks red and tingly—like they were burning. Thank God I found that tarp.

After balling up the tarp, I climbed out of the hole and began my journey down the rock mountain, scraping my shins at least a dozen more times. When my mother saw me she was going to freak out. She used to hyperventilate when I bumped my head as a kid. And now I looked like some mad man’s special experiment.

Once I reached the bottom, I made a beeline for my knapsack. Determined to find the watch, I fished through every pocket and examined the interior thoroughly. Damn it. There was no watch in my bag. And that meant that Colin had it.

Cupping my hands to my mouth, I shouted, “Colin!” I heard nothing in response, only the sound of my voice echoing. “Colin!” When I was worried about someone or something, nine times out of ten, I would let that feeling completely consume me and feed off me until I found a resolution for it.

Another thing that made the entire situation worse was the fact that if I left without Colin, and something awful happened to him, I’d blame myself. And living with that kind of guilt for the rest of your life, was a burden no one in their right mind would want to bear. Also, if I wasn’t back in time, I didn’t know if I’d be allowed back into the colony. I’d be out here alone, meandering around the morbid desert/earth. And I knew one thing, I wouldn’t last long. I’d probably starve to death. No, probably wasn’t the correct word. I would starve to death.

In the end, I came to the conclusion that I would wait another ten minutes for Colin—fifteen minutes if necessary—and that was pushing it. If he wasn’t back, then I’d have no choice. I’d have to go back without him.

As those final minutes began, I prayed for two things; One. I prayed that I made it back on time—so I would be welcomed back into the only home that I had ever known for the last two years.

And two. I prayed that Colin was alive, well, and didn’t die for real this time. And that hopefully, when I returned, he was inside of our underground world, at the bottom of the rope latter, waiting for me.


Chapter 9: The Boy with the Violet Eyes


But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

    
~ Genesis 2:17


“Seven hundred eighteen. Seven hundred nineteen. Seven hundred twenty.” I decided that counting the numerous pebbles around me was the best way to keep time. Since I didn’t have a watch, I had to be as accurate as possible and going with my gut wasn’t accurate at all.

The brilliant idea of counting the rocks came to me when I was thinking about my time in elementary school. I couldn’t remember exactly how old I was when I learned to tell time correctly, but I did remember that there were sixty seconds in a minute. Then I multiplied that by the number of minutes I’d been waiting for Colin. Twelve. Whole. Minutes. Twelve minutes equaled seven hundred and twenty rocks. And those twelve minutes had been the longest twelve minutes of my short life.

“I have to go,” I sighed. Staying out here on my own was not an option. If the council or my parents would have educated me on how to survive on the new, and in my opinion, not improved earth, I was positive that I would have no problem being out here on my own. But they didn’t educate me on survival skills. They educated me on how to find items on their stupid list. Why didn’t they think we needed to learn survivalist skills?

That was one of the many things I disliked about the way our world was ran. We were too sheltered—like we were living under a microscope—everyone was watched carefully and a lot of discussions were kept secret or only revealed to certain people. Sure, it was safer that way, but with safety should also come precaution.

Sometimes, because I was so good at keeping myself hidden, I’d eavesdrop on some of their conversations. Several members of the council ranted about the same stuff all the time. Like how smart the cannibals were. And from all the stories I’d heard, I didn’t have any doubts about that. I liked to think, that if the council members were actually as smart as they thought they were, they would be one step ahead of the genius, flesh eating humans. But they weren’t.

The only separations that we had from earth were: a hole in the ground that was six, maybe seven feet deep: a braided, flimsy rope ladder: and a gigantic rock that covered the hole Colin and I emerged from.

Whenever I heard the council members talking about how safe we were, I always asked myself a few questions. How long would it take before the cannibals figured us out? How long would it be before they founds us? Smart people caught on to random things quickly. So, when would they finally put two and two together?

Realistically, all they needed was to find a few members of their group so they could help each other lift the giant rock that kept us hidden. If they hit us with a surprise attack, we‘d never see it coming. It would be like an all you can eat human buffet.

When my father first told me that the cannibals liked to travel in groups, I found that kind of strange. “They’re cannibals for God’s sake,” I said to my father. “Wouldn’t they want to eat each other?”

At the time, my father’s reply didn’t make any sense. “Of course they do,” he began, “They’re human beings who eat other human beings, which is why eventually they would have to turn on each other. But….” And this was the part that finally made me understand the cannibals’ nature. “In any complicated situation, it is much easier to function as a group. Together, they can cover more ground. When they hunt, if it was a one-on-one battle, because of them being so weak, they would most likely lose the battle. But they wouldn’t lose it if they hunted as a group. It’s a lot easier to kill your prey when there is more than one person involved. Does that make sense?”

I remembered nodding. “Yes.”

He continued, “As the human race continues to die of starvation, it won’t be long after until the cannibals will have no choice but to separate and start hunting each other.”

I shuddered and gathered my things. Now I was on edge. I shouldn’t of thought about that. If I could’ve taken that memory and erased it from my mind, I would have. No more cannibals, no more council, no more stories. I had to stay focused, because that was the only way I was going to make it back in one piece.

* * *


After checking over my knapsack several times, to make certain it was secure, I flung it over my shoulder and started walking. “Focus, George. Focus,” I told myself.

As I strutted ahead, walking farther and farther away from the rock mountain, I closed my eyes and racked my brain, trying to remember any familiar surroundings that might point me in the right direction. There had to be some kind of landmark close to our colony. “Okay. Okay.” The only way I was going to figure out how to get back would be by retracing my steps.

First, Colin and I climbed up the rope ladder, pushed on the boulder, and emerged from the colony. At the top, we wound up in a circular room. There was a bright light shining at the opening of the room, and then we walked into the brightness and ended up outside. Once we were outside, I picked up that baby skull…

I paused to take a breath when I thought about the innocent child who lost its life. I squinted and skipped to the next step in our journey. It was all I could do to keep myself from crying.

Ugh, I was thinking way too hard. Whenever my thoughts ate at me, I got flustered. I was never any good at anything I was trying to do when I was under pressure.“All right. Clear mind. Happy thoughts.” So Colin and I walked about ten feet when we noticed the ‘Welcome To Lincoln’ sign.

Wait…

The Lincoln sign! The mangled and faded sign that used to say ‘Welcome To Lincoln, Nebraska’ was only ten feet behind the entrance to our colony and a little off to the left. I was just there!

“Yes! Yes!” I shouted, adding a little dance in with my excitement. That sign was only five minutes away. Eight at the most.

After figuring out the biggest part of my problem, it took me a few solid minutes to contain myself. But only seconds later, when I finally started walking again, something just didn‘t feel right. I felt like I was being watched.

Inside my head, I told myself not to panic. I had to play it cool. “Colin, are you playing another joke on me?” I chuckled nervously. I thought that if I pretended I wasn’t all alone, whoever was watching me would get scared off.

In my gut, I knew who was watching me. A searing pain shot through my organs when I thought about the cannibals, hiding from my view, their mouths salivating at the sight of me. If I kept up this façade and hyped it up correctly, I wouldn’t have to worry. But if I didn’t, well, that would be the difference between me living and me dying.

“Colin, this isn’t funny!” I snapped, placing my hands on my hips.

“Who’s Colin?” a deep, raspy voice hissed.

“Colin,” I said, weakly.

“No Colin here.”

My legs began trembling. My heart was already racing-thumping-pounding, and I thought for a moment it might leap out of my chest. Perspiration formed on my palms and all of the cuts on my hands stung.

Bravely, I took a deep breath, then took small quiet steps forward and heard footsteps behind me. Cannibal or not, whoever was behind me was not even trying to be light on their feet. It also seemed to me they were flaunting the fact that they knew I could not escape.

The sound of clinking metal filled my ears. One tap. Two taps. Three. I had reached the point where my stomach bottomed out, and was also having a difficult time breathing. More clinking. More heavy footsteps.

Petrified, I couldn’t even muster up the courage to look over my shoulder. Why? Because I don’t think wanted to be face to face with their own death. And what my murderer looked like was the last thing on my mind.

Unfortunately, my death was inevitable. Better that I admitted it to myself than fantasized about hope. For me, there wasn’t any hope. Without a weapon, even if I kicked, punched, and screamed, I would be overthrown. My attacker was a man, I knew that from the sound of his voice. Women cannibals didn’t live very long, since they were usually the first ones the men picked off when they couldn’t find people like me.

Silently, I made a promise to myself. I promised that no matter what happened during the next few seconds, that I would not go down without a fight.

He moved in closer, and closer. Finally, he was so close that I felt the heat from his body. He let out raspy, ragged breaths, and the warm air from his mouth trailed along the back of my neck and brought on fresh goose bumps. Even though my instincts told me to run, I couldn’t. It was almost like my feet were cemented to the ground.

He let out another long breath. When I inhaled, the rotten, musty scent crept up my nostrils. Vomit inched its way up the back of my throat and I swallowed hard to keep it down. Mentally, I kept giving myself words of wisdom. Be calm. Be bold. And don’t give away any implication that you might be thinking of making an attack—like a lioness—patiently waiting to pounce on her prey.

The only difference was that in this case, I was the prey.A type of situation like this always worked out best if the attacker was surprised. So I waited. Then I felt a cold, sharp object inching down my spine. As soon as the coldness disappeared, I knew that that was an open opportunity for me to try and save myself.

Crouching down, I stuck my right leg out, pivoting it around in a carousel movement and swiped the man’s feet out from under him by his ankles. I paid close attention, waiting for the thud his body would make when it hit the ground. When the body smacking the ground echoed from behind me, I took off sprinting.

With each flex of my muscles, and each pound of my feet stomping into the ground, every cut on my leg burned with such an intensity that it felt like I was being jabbed repeatedly with a branding iron. “HELP!” I shrieked. “HELP!” The only sound that I heard was the echo of my own voice. Who was I kidding? There was nobody out here. There was no one to help me.

After I had put a good amount of distance between myself and the man who was trying to kill me, I stopped, hunching over to catch my breath. Should I turn around or shouldn’t? I toyed with that notion. Yeah, I wanted to look.

Turning on my heel, I gazed out into the vast, desolate plains to see nothing. My mouth dropped open. “What the?” Where did he go? I surveyed every angle and still couldn’t wrap my head around it. “I know there was someone behind me.”

No…

There was no way I imagined it. I was not crazy. His raspy breathing and terrifying voice made my blood run cold. The cold object he traced along my spine made every hair on my arm stand up. And his rancid breath that stunk like a rotting corpse—Ugh—I still had an acid aftertaste lining my throat from the vomit.

Convinced he was still watching me, I spun around.“Where are you?” I shouted. Maybe I had given him the opportunity to move closer. “Are you afraid?” That was a brave question for me to ask. Then again, if I took him down once, maybe I would be able to take him down again.

Spinning again, still confused, I had to stop. For one thing, I was getting dizzy and for another thing I had to come to the realization that I was out here alone.

Once the silence set in, a faint rumbling sound rippled across the desert. Glancing at my feet, my eyes centered on a small, flat rock on the ground. The rock was vibrating. “What is going on?” The way the rock vibrated reminded me of the movies that had natural disasters in them, specifically earthquakes.

In most of the earthquake movies I’d seen, the viewer always knew it was coming. Right before it hit, the camera zoomed in on an object. Dishes in the cupboard jingled. A glass of water on a table started rippling. The rock at my feet reminded me of that. But earthquakes? Here? I couldn’t remember if we’d ever had one. If we did, it was decades before The Great Famine, and decades before I was born.

The rock vibrated harder, moving back and forth like a swing on a swing set. Then it flipped completely over onto its opposite side.

The sound of someone calling my name hung in the air. “Georgina!” I lifted my head when I heard my name. A group of four people were stampeding toward me.

Squinting, I tried to make out the first person in the group. Midnight hair. Muscular build. Colin. “Colin!” He was okay. I was so relieved. But what or who was he running from? Oh no!

My brain told my feet to move but they locked in place.

Colin glanced over his shoulder and picked up speed, getting closer and closer. “Georgina!” he shouted again.

“Colin!” I cried, frightened. Colin leg’s pounded into the ground, taking long strides. At least with him here, I felt safe. He made me a promise. He promised to protect me. As long as I’d known him, he wasn’t the type that went back on his word.

When the group got closer, I stared intently at three men who were chasing Colin. More cannibals. Three extremely famished-looking cannibals.

Colin came into view more clearly and our eyes met and locked. Fear from his gaze radiated into mine. In fact, he was pale—all the color drained from his face. The muscles in his neck tensed from glancing over his shoulder. He was panting—his chest convulsing—despite him being in amazing shape. It looked like that any given moment he was going to collapse. Never, in all the years that I had known Colin Martin, did I think that I would ever see him look like that. So scared, horrified, like he was on the verge of tears. His eyes bugged out and then he screamed, three words, in a shrill hoarse voice. “Run, Georgina! Run!”

That was when my feet finally decided to start working and I took off like an apple being shot out of a potato gun. Pieces of my hair flew into my face as I pushed my legs harder and picked up speed. I swatted at my hair, brushing it off of my face. Then I pumped my arms, convincing myself that it would only help me pick up more speed.

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. The sound of Colin’s and the cannibal’s footsteps were getting closer. “Shit!” I wailed, trying to move faster. They were gaining on me. It was then that I mentally cursed myself for staying in one place like a moron when I should have been running already.

I didn’t doubt that Colin could outrun me. But when he caught up to me and then started to pass me, that’s when I really lost it. “Colin! What are you doing? Come back! Come back!” He didn’t answer me. He didn’t even look back. He just kept moving forward.

A knot formed in the pit of stomach as panic set in. What was going on? Where was he going? Why didn’t he answer me? I was doing my best to try and catch up with him, but I was starting to get winded. The sound of the three cannibals’ footsteps were right up on me. “Colin!” I shouted out desperately. “Colin, help me!” I knew he heard my fearful cries. He was only six feet in front of me.

A pair of hands grabbed the back of my knapsack and yanked. “COLIN!” I shrieked. “HELP ME!” He still ignored me. The guy behind me yanked on my knapsack a second time, this time with a little more force, and he knocked me off balance. I went face first into the ground and ate a mouthful of charred debris. I spat it out and crawled forward, watching in horror as Colin ran farther and farther away. My heart was shattered and not only that, I felt like he had just stabbed me in the back.

The guy who knocked me off of my feet ripped my knapsack off of my back as I got to my feet. Two more cannibals stopped next us. “This one looks tasty,” said the slightly larger one.

“Ahhhh!” I yelled as I started moving my feet.

“Go get the boy,” said another with a stern voice. “This one is mine!”

I didn’t get very far and now Colin looked like a speck of dust dangling in the atmosphere. “COLIN!”

The guy behind me cackled as he wrapped both of his hands around my ankle, and pulled me back down to the ground. I tried to kick free but he started dragging me backwards.“Colin! You promised to protect me!” The guy pulled me underneath him. “YOU PROMISED!” My last cry was agonizing, painful, and bloodcurdling.

Every ounce of strength left my body when the guy flipped me over and slammed me into the ground. I coughed out, catching my breath and kept my eyes squinted shut. He pinned me down, digging both of his knees into my elbows and let out a low growl.

Damn you Colin. I could never forgive him for what he did. A slap on the face is forgivable and not to mention, he totally deserved it. Leaving someone to die was unforgivable.

Rough, calloused fingers brushed across my cheek. I winced, opening one eye at a time, mentally preparing myself for the hideous creature I was about to look at. Warm tears drizzled down my cheeks as I blinked and the guy above me came into focus. I opened my eyes wide as I took in his appearance.

He had a smooth almond-colored complexion that had a mixture of ash, dirt, and blood smeared all over his face and arms. His deep, dark chocolate hair was a bit on the long side and was sleek and shiny. He shook his head and the pieces of his hair moved away from his forehead. He had a very thin body-frame, but I could tell from glancing at the muscles in his arms he was more on the athletic side.

The guy couldn’t have been more than three years older than me. And his eyes, I had never seen eyes that color before. They were so different, so breathtakingly beautiful. A dark navy blue mixed with voodoo purple. Violet. He had violet-colored eyes.

Most people had blue, green, brown, hazel and a few times I’d seen people with gold eyes. But never violet. He gave me a cocky grin, his teeth perfectly aligned—and white. “Who are you?” I squawked, a tremble in my voice.

I focused on his upper canines that were sharpened to a point. He grinned wider and looked more sadistic as he ran his tongue along the edges of his teeth. “Who are you? I asked again. He still didn’t answer.

He contorted his abdomen, reaching off to the side. When he faced me he had a small rock in his hand lifted high above his head. “I’m starving,” he said in a rich, powerful voice. “And you must be dinner. Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

Tears flowed out of my eyes like a river. “Are you going to eat me?”

He licked his lips and gave me another sinful smile. “Yes. Yes I am.”

Then he let go of the rock and I closed my eyes tightly just as it came crashing down into my skull.


Chapter 10: Memories


Life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.

    
~ Exodus 21:23


The right side of my face was resting against a cold, hard and flat surface. I shivered, as a frosty chill spread throughout my limbs. Moaning in agony, I tried to lift my head up off of what seemed to be a slab of rock. “Ow!” I only managed to lift my head a few inches before a sharp pain overtook me and I had to put it back down.

A warm, thick liquid ran down the middle of my forehead, branching off on each side of my nose. The sharp pain in my head began throbbing and intensified so much that I thought it would cut off the air to my lungs. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to stay calm. I knew that if I tried to lift my head again, the intense, throbbing pain would get worse. It was already excruciating, if it got any worse than excruciating I might have contemplated smashing my head into the rock and put myself out of my own misery.

Opening one eye at a time, I blinked several times to adjust my eyes and get rid of the blurriness. I glanced around the room, trying to decipher where I was. Muddy walls, muddy ground, a round open doorway at the end of the room where a certain brightness shined through. The same brightness I witnessed on new earth. The colony. I was lying on top of the entrance to my home.

Instinctively, I cried for my mother. “Mom!” My voice was hoarse, soft, and weak. There was no way that she would be able to hear me. But maybe if I tried to move the rock, I’d be able to get back inside. I tried fanning my fingers on each side so I could give myself a good push, but I couldn’t move my arms. Then I tried digging my knees into the rock to hoist myself up and that wasn’t working either. What the hell happened to me? And why couldn’t I remember?

Paralyzed. Could I have been paralyzed? It was either that or my whole body was extremely locked up. A part from the minor movement I made with my head, no other part of my body was budging. I went as far as trying to wiggle my toes. No movement. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to move, none of my limbs were cooperating.

Now, I was truly terrified. My body wouldn’t move. My head had to be split in half. And I had no recollection of how I got home. I felt like a science experiment gone bad. The person who put me here should have inserted bolts into my neck and painted my face green. I could have been Frankenstein. Oh, wait. Frankenstein could walk.

I was going to die on top of this stupid boulder. I had no protection, no way of defending myself. Any monster that lived out there could waltz right through the open door and find me, Georgina Carver, bleeding, paralyzed, and ready to be consumed. I’d die without ever seeing my family again. And I’d die without ever fully living my life.

It wasn’t like me to feel sorry for myself or ever want any type of self-pity, but even though most of the time I was a logical person, I was still human and humans were flawed. They made mistakes. I made a mistake. I had to have made a stupid decision that led me to where I was. And that stupid decision was going to end with some kind of consequences. If only I knew what kind.

I began to drift in and out of consciousness. I’d pass out for a minute, maybe two, and every time I woke up the same questions replayed in my mind. Who did this to me? And how did I end up at home? Amnesia sucked.

I mentally drilled myself over and over again. I’d done this so many times since I had realized where I was, my brain was throbbing again. For a while, the pain had died down but now, I felt the inside of my head pounding, rippling, and sending shooting pains all across the top of my head.

Closing my eyes, I sobbed, “Why me?” I placed my cheek flat on the cool rock as puddle of my tears formed. Snot dripped down my nose and I couldn’t even wipe it. “I might as well be a vegetable.” I’d seen a human other people called a vegetable once. When my grandmother was in the hospital I passed her room and saw a man hooked up to a ton of machines. “He’s a vegetable,” my mother said.

“A vegetable?” I questioned. “Like a carrot?”

My mother shook her head. “No dear, like a person who can’t function. He’s only alive because of those machines.” She grabbed my tiny fingers and walked me down the hospital corridor.

“Mommy, what happens when they take him off of the machines?”

My mother smiled. “He’ll go to a beautiful place.”

No… I didn’t want to be a vegetable. I wished that whoever did this to me would have just killed me instead. Then again,maybe the paralyzed feeling would wear off? My attacker did crack me pretty hard on the head. And I was certain the liquid running down my face was blood, because some got into my mouth.

When I glanced around the room for the umpteenth time, all of my depressing thoughts were interrupted. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my knapsack, positioned in the right corner of the room, just beside the opening. All of the zippers were undone.

The top had been left opened so I assumed someone had rooted through it and stole some of the items in it. The only things I could make out that were in it from where I was, the black tarp I found earlier and a white piece of paper.

I squinted, trying to get a better glimpse of the new object that was obviously added to my knapsack. Even though it was pretty dark in the room, I could see some writing that was leaking through the flimsy piece of parchment. What was on that damn paper? Maybe it was a clue that would help me figure everything out.

Desperate to get to my knapsack, I rocked myself back and forth, realizing that since I was on a bit of a slope, I would be able to roll off of the rock. I swayed to the right, then to the left. Finally, I flipped onto my back and rolled several times, landing right at the foot of my knapsack.

Now that I was closer, I confirmed that there was definitely writing on that paper. A crimson red color leaked through the top and bottom of the paper in splotches. Whoever had written this letter, didn’t write in red ink. They wrote it in blood. And I assumed that the blood they used was mine.

Some of the mobility in my body was starting to return. I could wiggle my fingers and wiggle my toes. But that wasn’t good enough. Ugh, I needed to see that paper.

Arching my back as much as I could, I lifted my head and clamped my teeth down on the side of the paper. After I’d removed it from the knapsack, I laid it out in front of me and read what was written on it out loud. “Hello, dinner. It’s me, I’m starving. And I know where you live.”


Chapter 11: You Found Me


Mercy and truth are met together: righteousness and peace have kissed each other. Truth shall spring out of the earth; and righteousness shall look down from heaven.

    
~ Psalms 85:10


Dinner? Was I dinner? And who was, I’m starving? I wished Colin were here. Maybe he’d be able to fill in some of the gaps in my memory. The last vivid recollection I had of him was when he played that joke on me and I left him at the rock mountain. Thinking about it now, yeah, it still wasn’t funny. And I didn’t know what happened to him after that. He disappeared. I wondered if we ever made amends or if he made it back safely.

The chunk of my memory that was missing was weighing heavily on me. There were certain parts that played out in my mind like a movie. So why was I having so much difficulty remembering this tiny, little portion of my memory? It was so frustrating, especially because everything else was still so fresh in my mind.

Planting my head against the white paper, I let out a long, ragged sigh. When I woke up, I immediately assumed that I had gone through something traumatic. That was obvious, and I’d heard plenty of stories where some of the same things happened to other people. Rape victims. Men and women who witnessed murder. In a lot of those stories, their memories were jarred or altered. And the human body could also be affected. That had to be what was going on with me.

A sudden, repetitive scraping startled me. I tensed, and rolled my head to the side and watched as the rock that I was previously on moved. Inch by inch, scrape by scrape, it slid against the muddy ground and someone beneath it pushed it. Then the entire thing flipped over. An excited feeling swirled through my insides, someone was coming to look for me.

“Doug, I don’t care what you or Mark Baker has to say,” my mother snapped as she hoisted her body up out of the hole. “I’m going to look for Georgie!”

“Mom,” I called elated, but my voice wouldn’t come out above a whisper.

My mother faced me, narrowing her eyes. “Oh God! Georgina!” she gasped and rushed over to where I laid. “Sweetheart, your head!” She pulled me off the ground and held me. “What happened to you? Thank God, you’re okay! We were so worried!” She kissed my forehead repeatedly and rocked me back and forth like an infant.

“I don’t know what happened to me, Mom.”

“We’ll worry about that later. I’m just so thankful you’re safe,” she said, with tears brimming in her eyes. “I was coming to look for you. I didn’t care what any of the council members said.”

“They wouldn’t have let you back in.”

“I don’t care,” she cried. “You’re my child. You’re more important than some ridiculous council rule.”

“What about Frankie? Huh, Mom? She’s your child too.”

She squeezed me tighter and smoothed my hair back. “Never you mind about Frankie. What’s most important now is that you’re okay.” She placed both of her hands on my cheeks and gazed at me directly in the eyes. My body slumped as she released me from the embrace. “What’s wrong with your arms and legs?” she asked, concerned.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know,” I repeated. “When I woke up, my head was split open and I couldn’t move any of my limbs.”

Her voice raised a level. “You can’t move your arms and legs? Who did this? Huh? I will kill them! If they think cannibals are scary they haven’t seen anything yet!”

“Mom, I’ve tried, but I can’t remember anything about what happened to me or how I got here. There is a huge chunk of my memory that’s missing.”

She let out a frustrated sigh. Then she got distracted and noticed the paper on the ground. “What’s this?” she asked as she snatched it.

“It was in my bag when I woke up.”

She scanned the paper slowly. “And you don’t know who wrote it?”

“I already told you, Mom. I don’t remember anything.”

She folded up the paper and shoved it into her back pocket. Then she massaged my scalp, trying to get a better look at the gash on my head. Her fingers intertwined with my hair and she began pulling it. And it was really starting to hurt. The incessant stinging throbbed. “Stop it!” I said, “You’re hurting me!” At one point I tried to lift my arm to slap her hand away, but I still couldn’t move it fully.

Unwinding her fingers from my hair, she located the cut and spread it open. “The cut is really deep. You’re going to need stitches.”

She pulled the wound taught and I yelped. “Ow, Mom! Easy! You’re being too rough!”

Then my mother removed her hands from my head, picked up my knapsack, and flung it over her shoulder. “Alright, honey. I’m going pick you up now, okay.”

“Okay.”

She slid her arms underneath my butt and back. “On three… One… two… three.”

At first my body folded and I heard every bone in my spine crack. Then my mother adjusted her arms and carried me over to the opening. Now I understood what people meant when they said mother’s had super-human strength when it came to their children.

We hovered over the top of the hole and my father peered up at us from the bottom. He let out a sigh of relief. Oh, Georgina. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I’m glad Mom found me.”

“Me too,” he said. “You gave us quite a scare.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not her fault,” my mother growled as she descended down the ladder.

My father ignored her comment. Everyone knew my mother would hold Mr. Baker responsible for this. I thought she had a valid point. I still couldn’t understand why the men in the council weren’t doing the gathering. They were strongest people here. They could fight off the cannibals and other wild things. Aside from Colin and maybe Dylan Edwards, the rest of the teens here wouldn’t make it out there.

When we finally reached the bottom of the ladder, my mother handed me off to my father. “Can you please take her to the infirmary? I’m pretty sure May’s working.”

May Vickers was Grace’s and Monica’s mother. Before the Great Famine, she was the head of surgery at a hospital in Omaha. Shortly after the colony was built, the council decided that we had to have our own hospital, and May offered to run it. After all, she was really the only one who knew what she was doing.

My father raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you take her?”

“Because I’m going to climb back up the ladder and close off the entrance. Unless you’d rather do that.”

“No,” my father groaned. “I’ll take her to the infirmary.” He turned his back to my mother and we started walking down the hall.

“We’ll talk later!” my mother shouted.

“Yeah,” my father said. “Later.”

For some reason, my father didn’t like anything that had to do with hospitals, doctors, or sick and wounded people. His father died when my Dad was young, andsomething that happened with that changed the way he felt about the medical world. The reason was never explained to me and I never tried to pry it out of him. I just figured  someday, he’d eventually tell me.

May Vickers greeted me with a smile as my father strolled through the door with me. “What happened here?” May asked. Her voice was always so soft and sweet. Her smile was pleasant, and she always looked pretty. She had a round face and ivory skin. Despite everything She had went through with her daughter Monica disappearing, she always tried to be kind to everyone most of the time. Grace was like her in that way.

My father laid me down on the cot and shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll let her tell you about it. I have to go talk with Marcy.”

May smiled. “Okay.”

My father gripped my hand, squeezed it, then went off to find my mother.

May walked over to her counter, a small kitchen countertop that someone had salvaged from a building, and studied her row of supplies. There were all kinds of instruments, ointments, and band aids. She picked up a jar of salve, and removed a cotton swab from her pocket. She dipped the swab into the jar and set the jar back down. “So, Georgie. What happened?”

At my side, she plastered the ointment across my cut. First, the ointment on my cut felt like little bubbles were popping across the wound and it kind of tickled. Then that tickling feeling turned into a full on burning feeling. It felt like my entire head was on fire. “Ouch! Ouch!” I cried. “I’m not sure.”

“It’s only numbing ointment,” May said calmly. “Give it a second and it won’t burn so much.”

Soon, the burning sensation died down. In fact I couldn’t feel anything at all. “That’s better,” I sighed. With the pain gone from my head, I felt like a whole new person.

“You might want to close your eyes for the next part,” she stated as she removed a long sewing needle and surgical thread from the table next to me. That sounded like a great suggestion to me. May sterilized the needle, and looped the thread through it. “Lower your head, please,” she instructed.” I put my head down and closed my eyes tightly. I felt the needle pierce my skin, but other than that, I felt nothing else. “You know,” May began, “you’re a pretty brave kid.”

“You think so?” So far, I thought I was acting pretty wimpy.

“I do.” There was a warmness to May’s tone. “You have a minor concussion and you need eighteen stitches. You’re taking it like a champ. When Colin Martin came back he was in…”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Colin is here?”

“He’s been here for hours.” She sounded confused. “He came back around five minutes to four. Didn’t you know that?”

“No.”

“Weren’t you guys together out there?”

“We were, then something happened. And I can’t remember anything about it.” Colin would help me, he would help me remember. “Did he ask about me?” He had to be worried.

“No.”

“What?”

“He never mentioned you.”

An uneasy feeling circled my gut. There were so many things that seemed wrong. Why wouldn’t he ask about me? Why wouldn’t he be at the door the minute he heard I was back? The news of my return had to have spread around the colony by now.

“May, is there is any way I could speak to him?”

“Nope, not tonight, young lady. All I want you to do tonight is get some rest.

The sound of scissors snapping caused me to open my eyes. May set the needle down and rolled some gauze across my forehead. After she taped it, she walked over to the sanitizing bin where she put all the dirty needles.Then I thought about Grace. I needed to talk to her. She’d definitely tell me what was going on or if Colin gave any indication about what happened to me. “Can I at least see Grace?”

“No, ma’am. You can see them both tomorrow.”

“May?”

“Yes, Georgina.”

“I know I’ve never said anything until now, but I’m really sorry about what happened to Monica.” That was the first time in months that anyone had spoken to May about Monica’s disappearance. But I decided that when it happened, she had enough people that were constantly approaching her about it. I knew it would probably hurt just the same now as it did then, but I didn’t want her to think that I just shrugged it off as nothing.

She was quiet for a moment. “Tha-thank you, Georgina” she stuttered. I heard the sadness in her voice and felt sorry for mentioning it. Even though I was sincere about it, I could understand how it would be like pouring salt into an open wound.

May faced me, swallowing hard. She did her best to smile, but she only made it halfway. Her eyes were red and I could tell that at any moment every tear in her entire body were going to flow out of her eyes. “You just get some rest, dear.” Her voice was trembling. “I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”

After she left the room, I felt like a total jerk. “You need to learn to bite your tongue,” I said to myself. With that, I buried my head into my pillow and closed my eyes, hoping that something, anything, from my memory would come to visit me in my dreams.


Chapter 12: They Always Come Back


The memory of the just is blessed.

    
~ Proverbs 10:7


Violet eyes! I remembered something! Violet eyes! My eyelids fluttered open and I gazed around the room. As I processed the memory about the violet eyes, two more memories flooded through my cranium. And both of them involved Colin.

He was running toward me—like a charging bull—his face twisted and contorted, stricken with panic. Then he was running away from me. So far away that he looked like a tiny insect flitting across the air. But what happened in between? That part still hadn’t come back to me. And who did the violet eyes belong to?

I closed my eyes and they were there again, radiant and hauntingly beautiful. A mixture of deep blue and purple hues. Yet, no matter how hard I tried to match a face to them I couldn’t. Surely, with eyes that gorgeous, they would have a gorgeous face to match, right?

Footsteps carried down the hall and my attention averted to the open door. Colin sauntered passed the door without stopping. From my viewpoint, it looked like he was in a hurry to get somewhere. “Colin,” I called out to him. He froze, just past the door and all I could see was his right arm. “Colin,” I called again. He backed up slowly and placed his left arm on the frame of the door.

I studied his body language carefully. He was fidgety, like a drug addict, just coming down from their high. His shoulders were tensed and he seemed to be looking everywhere but at me. Something wasn’t right with him. Colin Martin had always been a direct person. That was something I always admired about him. This Colin Martin wasn’t the one that I knew.

“Oh, hey, Georgie,” he chuckled nervously. I stared at his fingers intensely as he twirled them around and played with them. “How are you feeling?”

I wanted to shout, lost, confused, and pissed off. Where was he when I came back? Did he think I died? He promised to protect me, and here I was severely injured. But what I needed most, was for him to fill in all the missing pieces so I glanced at his face and narrowed my eyes. “I’m okay.” I adjusted the pillow behind me with my head. “Colin, listen, I wanted to talk to you last night, but May wouldn’t let me. So, I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for slapping you.”

He looked over his shoulder and spoke with a detached tone, “Oh, you remember that?”

“Yes,” I said with a bit of uncertainty. What was going on with him? He was really starting to freak me out. I kept trying to read the expression on his face but he was constantly turning his head. “Why?”

He rested his forehead against the door. “I just heard you couldn’t remember anything, that’s all.”

“I can remember most of what happened up there.” He was looking at the floor again. “Would you just look me in the eye for God’s sake!” He looked at me but I still didn’t feel like I had his full attention. “I need your help. There is a huge chunk missing of what happened that I can’t remember. I thought that you might remember for me.”

Colin folded his arms across his chest and began tapping his right foot. “You ran off, remember?” There was a snarky tone to his voice.

“Oh, I remember that. You totally deserved it,” I added with a bit of attitude.

“It was a joke!” he snapped.

“And you were the only one who found it funny.” I sifted through everything that happened during that joke and I recalled the part where I said I loved him. “Are you acting weird because I said I love you? Or did we have another fight out there that you aren’t telling me about?”

My gut was telling me it was because I said those three big words. To be honest, I knew I cared for him deeply. I more than liked him. And he almost always sent my teenage hormones reeling. But love? That was too strong of a word and I shouldn’t have used it. It was a heat of the moment kind of thing and I wished I could have taken the words back. I mean, I thought he was dead. In any tragic situation, sometimes people said things they didn’t mean. Maybe I’d tell him that eventually, but I didn’t mean to say those words when I said them.

Colin stared at the floor, in a daze. “Neither,” he finally answered.

I was baffled. “Then what happened? I don’t understand. Why are you acting so strange?”

He took small steps away from the door. “I’m just glad that you’re okay.” He turned and walked down the hall, leaving me alone. His words sounded meaningful enough.

“Colin, wait!” I shouted, hoping that he might turn around and come back. “Come back! I have more questions!” He ignored me. The sound of his footsteps against the muddy floor continued then faded in the distance.

Minutes later, Grace poked her head through the open doorway. I smiled at her as she rushed to my bedside. “Oh, Georgie,” she exhaled. “I was so worried about you.”

I smiled. “I asked to see you last night, you know?”

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “My mom wouldn’t let me see you.” She picked up one of my hands. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really.”

“Did you see Colin?”

“He was just here.”

“Well, what did he say?

“Absolutely nothing.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“There is something really weird going on with him. It’s driving me crazy because I can’t remember a portion of what happened when we were up there and I feel like he knows and is keeping it from me. Have you heard him say anything?”

“No. You know I’d tell you if I did.”

“I know.”

Grace stayed with me for another hour. It was a Monday so she had to go to school, but she told me she’d be back to check on me.

Throughout the day, I had numerous visitors, but Colin never came back. After our conversation, I was pretty sure he was going to avoid me. But he would only be able to avoid me for a little while. Because I was regaining the use of my arms and it would only be a matter of time before I could use my legs. And when I regained the use of my legs, I would stop at nothing until I figured out just what exactly Colin Martin was hiding from me.

Frankie remained by my side for most of the day, always eager to help me or get me something I needed. My mom let her miss school for the day so she could spend time with me. She had me convinced that she might actually make a great nurse in the future. “Here.” She reached behind my head. “Let me fluff your pillow.” Sitting up, I watched her punch the pillow several times, bunch it up and pull it apart, then she patted it, until it was extra fluffy. “There,” she said as she sat back down. “How does that feel?”

I nestled into it and smiled. “Great. Thanks, sis.”

She nodded. “Anytime.” Frankie lifted her knees to her chest and hugged them. “So, when did May say that you could get outta here?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Well, can you walk?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried to yet.” The upper part of my legs were still as stiff as a board, but I could roll my ankles. “Maybe in a day or two,” I said with confidence.

“Do you know why Colin Martin wasn’t hurt as bad as you?” Frankie asked, with a puzzled look on her face.

What I wanted to say was, “you tell me.” My sister was the colony gossip queen. Nobody would say anything important when she was in hearing range, because they knew better. Normally, I hated that she could never keep a secret but, her last question sparked a genius idea. I frowned. “No. I don’t know why. But you can find out for me.”

She pointed to her chest, looking astonished. “Who, me?”

“Yeah, you.”

Frankie scrunched her face together. “Well, what is it exactly that you want me to do?”

A wide grin spread across my lips. “Do what you do best, my little talking parrot.”

If Frankie, the one person with the best hearing in the entire colony, couldn’t pick up something about what was going on with Colin Martin, then I was pretty much screwed.

She nodded and smirked. “I like that idea.”


Chapter 13: Be Careful What You Say Around Little Birds


Many shall run to and fro and knowledge shall be increased.

    
~ Daniel 12:14


By day three, May had me up and walking. “You’re doing great,” she gushed as she escorted me from my bed to the opposite side of the room.

My legs were still wobbly, but getting out of the bed felt good for a change. I’d only been immobile for three days, but it felt like an eternity. I wasn’t the type of person who liked to stay put for too long. Before my accident I was always on the go. A few hours earlier, I had reached the point where I contemplated pulling strands of my hair out just to give myself something to do. “So, how long do you think it’s going to be before I can return to what’s left of civilization?” I joked.

May smiled. “I’m going to recommend that you stay in the infirmary at least one more night.”

“That’s all?” I questioned. Honestly, I expected her to say two more, at the least.

“Do you want to stay longer?” she asked, trying to keep a serious face.

I couldn’t reply fast enough. “No.”

“Well, then.” May helped me back into bed. “Tomorrow it is.”

Finally something I could look forward to. Tomorrow, I was going to be in my own room, I could see my friends, and if Frankie didn’t pull through, I was going to get to the bottom of the Colin Martin situation. But, I had a lot of faith in my kid sister.

* * *


An hour later my mother came in and brought my lunch. She set the tray down next to me and kissed me on the cheek. “And how’s my brave girl doing?” she cooed.

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, you’re talking to me like I’m two years old. I’m a big girl. I’m fine.” Now I was walking. I was able to use my arms too. The only part of me that wasn’t the same was my memory. Not all of it had come back yet.

Frankie checked in with me every few hours reporting some piece of gossip that had no value to me. Like Colin flirting with Molly Edwards or that Mr. Baker had a massive booger hanging out of his nose and no one bothered to tell him. She might have more to report but she was probably waiting until my mother left. My parents were always scolding her for being a big mouth.

What pissed me off more than anything was that Colin didn’t seem concerned at all? He went right back to his flirtatious ways. Closing my eyes, I envisioned him running his hand along Molly Edwards thigh and it made me grind my teeth. I thought there was something between us. I thought he cared about me, the way I cared about him, but I guess I was wrong.

“So, Mom,” I changed the subject. “What am I missing out there, anything good?”

My mother rubbed my hand. “Not really, if you ask me, you’re better off in here alone. I’m sure you don’t want everyone asking you a million questions if you don’t even know the answers to them yourself.”

I nodded. She was right. I didn’t feel like facing the crowd. For one, like my mother said, I didn’t know the answers. And two, even if I did, what if I couldn’t handle the truth? Then I’d be barraged by question after question, feeling like I was drowning in a deep, dark pool of misery. I imagined I would feel a lot like May did, every time someone asked her about Monica.

My thoughts were interrupted when my mother rose out of her seat. “Where are you going?” I asked. She just got here and she was already leaving.

“Your father and I gave that letter we found with your things to Mark Baker. We’re supposed to meet with him to discuss it.”

I nearly shot up out of my bed, outraged. “What? Why in the hell would you do that?” Mark Baker was a sneaky, conniving weasel of a man who could not be trusted.

My mother shrugged. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but your father thought he might be able to help.”

“Right,” I said sarcastically. It pissed me off that my father was such a poor judge of character. Mr. Baker, walked around here like he owned the place. Technically, my father owned the place because he was the one who started building the underground colony and invited the other families to join. Mr. Baker took his position on the council way too seriously. I said before that we needed the rules and order to avoid chaos, but he took it to the extreme and the cost didn‘t matter. Mr. Baker would sacrifice his own children for the sake of our little colony, and that struck me as the type of person who was obsessed with control, order, and being superior to everyone else. A lot like someone else I learned about when I went to an actual high school—Hitler.

“I’ll be back later,” my mother announced as she waved goodbye to me at the door.

“See you later, Mom.”

Shortly after my mother left, Grace stopped in to check on me. We made small talk for about an hour, then she left because she said she was on kitchen duty for dinner. Which meant that she was serving the food.

Frankie rushed in minutes after. She lingered at the foot of my bed, with both of her hands clamped over her mouth. Her eyes were bulging out, like she was going to explode if she didn’t say what she needed to soon.

“Well.” I looked around the room, warily. “Did you find something out?”

She nodded, lowering her hands. “Something. Something big!”

“Tell me!” I yelled, then caught myself. “Tell me,” I repeated in a lower voice.

She skipped over to the chair next to my bed and plopped down into it. “After lunch,” she began, “I followed Colin Martin to Mr. Baker’s quarters.”

My stomach lurched. “Did he see you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Sometimes when she was hiding, she wasn’t so subtle.

“Yes!” She waved me off. “Just be quiet and let me finish.”

“Fine.” I urged her to go on with my eyes.

“So, where was I? Oh, yeah. I followed Colin into Mr. Baker’s quarters and his father and Mr. Edwards were already there. And then, they all started whispering amongst each other.”

“Well, what were they saying?” I found it odd that they were all meeting in secret like that. And why without the other council members?

“I could only make out two things,” Frankie said.

“And?”

“And the only two things I could make out was the word lottery and a name. Your name, Georgina Carver.”

* * *


After Frankie left, I replayed several different scenarios out in my head and none of them worked out right. Maybe they wanted me to go back out there because I’d only found one thing on my list. Or maybe it was because I disobeyed and wandered off when I was told not to. Yeah, I wasn’t buying any of it. The lottery was supposed to be random. So, why was my name being brought up again?

Seriously, hadn’t I suffered enough? Mr. Baker should have hoisted his own rotund body out of that hole and went looking for supplies. Someone needed to kick that bastard off his high horse and it looked like I was going to be the one to do it—as soon as I got out of this damn bed.


Chapter 14: Same Old Me But Not


Let him go for a scapegoat into the wilderness.

    
~ Leviticus 16:10


“Good morning, Georgina,” May greeted me with a cheerful spike in her voice.

“Morning,” I said glumly. I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, but I was still seething over the information I collected from Frankie the night before.

If I offended May at all, she didn’t act like I did. She continued on with her polite tone, “I think I should have you walk around the room one more time before I send you back to your quarters. You okay with that?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

During my stay in the infirmary, I’d grown fond of the time I spent with May. Grace was lucky to have her for a mother. She was kind, generous, and selfless. I truly appreciated all the time she had taken with me these last few days.

May strolled over to the side of my bed. “Place both of your arms over my shoulders,” she instructed. I made a circle with my arms and lopped them over May’s head. “Okay. Good,” she said. “Now on three, you’re going to stand.”

“Got it.”

“One… Two… Three.”

I squatted and pushed with my legs as hard as I could. When I stood, I latched my hands onto May’s shoulders and steadied myself. I beamed proudly. My legs felt sturdy, not at all wobbly like they had been the day before. I almost thought about jogging from my bed to the opposite side of the room, but I didn’t.

With May guiding me, I walked slowly, deciding to play it safe. “Did you ever figure out why I couldn’t use my arms or legs when I came in?”

May put a tighter grip on my shoulder as we glided across the floor. “Without a cat scan, I don’t know for sure, but I will say that you took a very hard hit to the head. And you’d be surprised how that can affect the brain. When I worked in surgery, there were a lot of brain injuries and I’ve seen much stranger things than a person not being able to use their limbs for a day.”

That was interesting. I assumed that my immobility had something to do with the hard hit I took to the head. “Really? Like what?” I asked as we turned to walk back the way we came.

“This one time, they rushed in this woman who had a skull fracture and a piece of the skull about a half an inch long got lodged in her brain. She actually started barking at me.”

I laughed. “Like a Golden Retriever?”

“I’d say more like a Yorkie. She was very yippy.” May laughed with me when we stopped at the foot of my bed. “You’re as good as new,” she complemented.

I beamed. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

* * *


May hand delivered me to my mother, who was waiting just outside my room. “Look at you!” my mother squealed as she enveloped me into her arms.

“Back to normal again,” I joked

My mother kissed my hair. “I’m so glad.” She turned to May. “When will the stitches have to come out?”

May smiled. “They are self-dissolving so we don’t have to take them out.”

“Great,” I commented. I had stitches cut out once. I didn’t want to go there again.

“Sweetheart,” my mother began, “why don’t you go into your room? I’m going to walk May back to the infirmary.”

I peeked inside the empty room. “Where’s Frankie?”

My mother smiled. “It’s a Wednesday, silly. She’s in school.”

“Oh.” I had completely forgotten about school. In the back of my mind, I hoped that she wouldn’t make me go back until next week. “Well, I think I’m going to walk around then. I’m so sick and tired of lying down.”

She gave me a stern look. “You’re not going anywhere by yourself. When I come back, I’ll take you on a walk.”

I placed both of my hands on my hips. “Mom, are you serious! Quit treating me like a child! I’m seventeen years old!”

She wagged her finger at me. “Let’s get two things straight. I don’t care how old you are, you’re always going to be my child. Also, you have just been through something traumatic and you need to take your time and recover. I don’t want you running around here making yourself sick.” My mother gave May the come-on-back-me-up look. “Right May?”

May nodded. “Listen to your mother, Georgina.”

I sighed, defeated. “Fine. But can’t I walk with you guys?”

My mother smiled. “Sure.” My mother laced an arm through mine and May did the same with the opposite arm.

As we walked through the chilly, empty hallway I thought that it was kind of nice that nobody was around. Even though we were a small group of people it got overly crowded down here

sometimes. Usually the worst when it was around meal times. I wondered why the people here were still so obsessed with food. True, it was a luxury, but we had been eating good for the last two years.

In that moment, I thought of the cannibals and outsiders who lived above us. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. The outsiders, because they would ultimately become a meal for the cannibals. And the cannibals because they were just doing what they had to survive. Eating other humans was grotesque and disgusting, but it made me think of what I would do in their situation. Would I resort to eating my own kind?

A queasy feeling bounced off the walls of my stomach. Never. I just couldn’t do it. No matter how hungry I was, I’d rather starve to death than kill and eat another human. I stole a glance at my mother and May, who were chatting quietly amongst one another. Would they? No. I knew my mother and I knew May. They wouldn’t be able to do it. Then again, you’d be surprised how fast the people you knew could change when they’re starving to death.

Since the Great Famine began, I’d only seen a couple of things that made my heart break in such a way, that the only thing I could think about doing after witnessing it, was curl up in a corner and ball my eyes out.

One time, in particular, was right before the colony had been built. Two little boys, who couldn’t have any older than six and four years old, laid beside a rotting corpse, hysterical. The woman was their mother. “Mommy!” they wailed—all day—and all night.

Nobody cleaned up the body. Nobody cared. They were way too worried about taking care of themselves, and the fermented dead were useless to cannibals. Human organs rotted just like old meat.

Most of the time, I’d sit in the hut with my hands over my ears and my eyes squinted shut, humming quietly to myself to drown out their torturous cries.

During the day it was impossible to avoid them. I couldn’t face them. Somehow, I saw me and Frankie in those little boys. And even being a teenager, I didn’t know how I would survive if I was in their situation. The answer was I wouldn’t have.

Then one night their cries started to weaken. Starvation was sneaking up on them and pretty soon they would join their mother, rotting away from the outside in. That was when I broke. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed to feed them. They needed a home. And I swore that I would kneel on the ground until my knees were bloody at my parents feet, begging, until my parents helped them.

First, I did the unthinkable. I stole food from my parents little makeshift garden inside of our hut. Since I took food before the rules were established, I’d gotten away with it. Then, I stalked across the street, in the dead of night, clutching what I could and knelt down to the little boys.

Both of the boys had ivory pallor’s and big, round blue eyes that stared up at me. They whimpered softly. Their teeth were cracked from eating rocks and their bones were showing through their thin, translucent skin. The stench from their mother’s corpse wandered up my nostrils and I gagged, turning my head away.

Sharp sobs caught in my throat and I sucked them back, trying to be strong. I smiled, tears watering up in my eyes as I handed each of them two large carrots. “Here you go, little guys.”

They snatched the carrots from my hands and gobbled them up in one breath. “Do you have anymore?” the elder one asked in his soft child-like tone.

“Not right now,” I said tearing up again. “But I’ll tell you what, if you’re good little boys, I’ll bring you more tomorrow.”

They smiled and nodded.

I didn’t hear a peep from them the rest of the night. When the following morning came, I begged my mother. I begged her for hours to let us take them in. “Mom, they’re two little boys! How much could they possibly eat?”

My mother shook her head. “You know I would in a second, but we barely feed ourselves,” she said, her voice hushed.

“Then, I won’t eat. Give them my portion.”

“Georgina, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous. I won’t eat.”

My mother glanced at her garden, then at me. She paused for a moment and then finally, she caved. “Go get them. We’ll just eat a little bit less than usual.”

Only when I went outside to find the little boys, they were gone. Next to their mother’s body, there were two pools of blood and four carrot stems. The cannibals had gotten to them first. After that, I lost control of my emotions. I sobbed so hard that I could barely breathe, lost the small appetite I had, and I didn’t leave our hut until the colony was completely finished.

My mother and May caught my attention when they came to a halt and I stumbled forward. May gripped my arm tightly, steadying me, and my mother shot me a disapproving glance. “Georgina! Pay attention!” she scolded.

I blushed, embarrassed that she snapped at me like that in front of May. “Sorry.”

She exhaled. “Just watch where you’re going, please. You don’t need to have another accident.”

I nodded. “Will do.”

We stood in front of the infirmary and May unhooked her arm from mine. “Take it easy, kiddo,” she said, then pulled me in for a short hug.

“I will. For now,” I answered with a cheesy grin.

May laughed and turned to my mother. “Glad I could help, Marcy. I’ll talk to you soon.”

My mother let go of me and hugged May. “Thanks for everything May. Talk to you soon.”

After May made her exit and we started walking back to my room, I thought that now was a good of time as any to ask my mother about the letter she and my father took to Mr. Baker. “Was Mr. Baker able to help you?”

“Help me?” she questioned. “With what?”

“That letter you found with my stuff.” She was so adamant about getting to the bottom of it, I couldn’t believe that she didn’t remember.

“Oh, no. He said there was no way he could tell who wrote it. He assumed that it was probably a cannibal or a decayed one.”

“Decayed one?” That was the first time I’d ever heard anyone mention a decayed one. “What are decayed ones?”

“I’ve never told you about the decayed ones?”

“No.” Now, I’d come to the conclusion that Mr. Baker and the council weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. Or perhaps it was something my mother didn’t want me to know.

“Are they like zombies?”

My mother shook her head. “No. Not at all. Decayed ones are a lot like cannibals.”

I was confused. “If they are alive, why do you call them decayed ones?

“When the asteroid hit, there were a select number of humans who became disfigured from the radiation. Their eyes would not be like yours and mine. Their skin melted and their eyes dropped down into their cheeks. Or they developed hunchbacks and so on. You get the picture, right?”

“Yeah.” I got the picture all right. Now I wished I wouldn’t have asked what they were. And now, I understood why she didn’t tell me about them.

“Anyway,” she went on, “part of their brains fried along with other parts of their bodies and their mind’s no longer function normally. Their speech is limited and they can’t write a lot—childlike, really. Like an adult with the mind of a child. They’re malicious—violent. They too eat humans but unlike cannibals, they will torture you first.

Most cannibals still have a sound mind. If they had the nourishment that they needed, they wouldn’t kill at all. And cannibals will always kill you first before they feed on you. Not the decayed ones, they eat you alive. They enjoy watching a person squirm up until they take their very last breath.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

“Once.” Then she quickly changed the subject. “We’re here.”

I walked into my room and sat down on my bed. “It’s good to be back.” I smiled.

“I’m going to go get you some food, okay. Stay here,” my mother commanded as she walked out the door.

She returned minutes later with a tray full of food. She handed me the tray then went off to find my father. I took a few bites, but after all the talk about cannibals and the decayed ones, I was having a really hard time finding my appetite.

When Frankie got home from school she spent some time with me before dinner. She tried to entertain me, to snap me out of my sullen mood. Doing her famous Mrs. Edwards impression, she plugged her nose and raised her voice up a level. “Now students,” Frankie mocked, “everyone turn your textbooks to page two!” I giggled softly, pretending to find her impression funny. Normally I would be laughing so hard I’d have a hard time breathing. But not today.

My accident had sparked a change in me. A change that I couldn’t explain. There were times where I wanted to be the old me, with my obedient yet sarcastic attitude, and the old me who thought about living life to the fullest extent and making the best of what my life had become. I had to face it, the old version of me was gone. And I didn’t know when or if that version of me would ever come back.

Later on that night, while my family was sound asleep. I lied awake, listening to the sound of Frankie’s soft snoring. I’d dozed off several times since everyone went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep soundly for some reason. My legs were restless, trembling, and twitching while I tossed and turned, so I decided that a walk down the hall might do me some good.

On my feet, I took one last look at Frankie as she thrashed, rolled over and yelled, “French Fries!” in her sleep.

I caught myself laughing and held my breath for a moment. “Yeah,

Frankie,” I mouthed. “I miss French Fries too.”

After observing her for another minute, I assured myself that she wasn’t going to wake up. Then I tiptoed quietly toward the door.

Standing in the hall, I paused briefly before continuing. What if I get caught? I glanced back at my empty bed. Once I was up, I was up. There was no way I could go back to sleep now. If I got caught, I’d just explain that I was feeling a little off and needed to take a walk.

The hallway was so quiet, the soft thudding from my bare feet sounded loud. How would I explain the dirt on my feet to my mother tomorrow morning? Sometimes, pieces of the dirt wall fell off onto the concrete. I knew she would question it. I hatched a plan about making up some story that I heard something in hall and went to check it out.

As I strolled forward, dimly lit flames from the candles perched along the wall danced along the border and kept me from being submerged in total darkness. The darkness frightened me. Mainly because I it disabled me from using one of the most important senses: Sight. How can a person form a plan of action if they couldn’t see what they were in for?

During the early days of colony life, we didn’t have candles in the hall and only a few lights that my father set up using a couple of our generators and several that the gatherers found when they were out searching for supplies. I never left my room back then. I didn’t want to get lost. Our home was still new and that brought fear and uncertainty.

After walking the entire length of the hallway, I stood at the entrance to the mess hall, gazing out into the black abyss of nothingness. I realized that tomorrow, I would be back there, at my usual table, sitting next to Grace and Colin.

Colin…

I wondered how he would act toward me when he saw me again. If I based that on our last encounter, tomorrow was going to be awkward. And it was because of that last encounter that I came to the conclusion that Colin Martin wasn’t going to be of any help to me when it came to my absent memories.

Turning to go back to my room, I was caught off guard by the sound of footsteps plodding against the concrete floor. Panicking, I spun around in a circle. I needed to find a hiding place until I could confirm who was walking down the hall. I squinted at the boulder covering the hole. I wasn’t strong enough to push it yet, and pushing that massive rock would make more noise than I wanted anyway.

The open doorways that lined each side of the hall wouldn’t work either. I blanched when I thought of walking through a door and waking up a sleeping family. And not only that, but I’d be in so much trouble for being out of bed after hours.

The sound of the footsteps grew louder and were accompanied by a whispering voice. “Shhh!” a deep manly voice said. “Not yet!”

If I ran forward, they would see me for sure. If the footsteps and voices belonged to any of the council members I would be punished for being out of bed after curfew. The men around here weren’t as lenient as the women. Glancing over my shoulder, I centered on the mess hall.

Inside, I scaled the wall about four feet in. The footsteps were still carrying down the hall so I knew I still had time. Crouching down, I winced out in pain as my knees cracked.

The multiple, loud cracking sound echoed throughout the mess hall and I heard another voice, “What was that?” Another man said.

“Don’t worry,” said the first voice. “It was probably nothing.”

Throwing my hands over my mouth, I took small, short breaths. It was so quiet that I thought any sound I made might give me away. And as far as I knew, I was in the middle of a dangerous situation and it was best for me not to take any chances.

Cocking my head to the side, I watched the two men who were meeting in secret. Finally, I was able to put faces to the footsteps and voices. Mr. Baker and Colin’s father, Mr. Martin. Come to think of it, what I was doing was actually kind of thrilling. I could see why Frankie found snooping around and eavesdropping appealing.

Mr. Martin spun around warily. I stared at him intently, picturing Colin as an adult. Their resemblance to one another was uncanny. The only difference was Mr. Martin was a few pounds overweight and had grey streaks through his midnight hair. “Are you sure everyone is asleep?” he asked.

“Positive,” Mr. Baker replied. “I checked everyone’s quarters myself.”

“So,” Mr. Martin began, raising his voice slightly. “Has it been decided, then? Are we going to rig the results of the lottery again?”

Rig the results of the lottery again? My breath caught in my lungs. I felt myself getting dizzy. They had complete control over the lottery the first time. They planted my name and Colin’s in there on purpose. Those jerks!

And Colin… Colin knew about it all along! I couldn’t believe it. He seemed so sincere when spoke about protecting me and he was behind this whole plan from the beginning. But why? Were his advances toward me fake too? Was it just an act to get me to trust him? So I wouldn’t suspect what was going on?

Mr. Baker nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“So who is going in for the boys?”

Mr. Baker brushed his forefinger against his lips.

“How about Dylan Edwards?”

Mr. Martin considered that. “The Edwards boy is a good choice.”

“I would rather your son go in again. I think she might have a fondness for him.”

They were talking about me! During that moment I thanked God for Frankie. If it wasn’t for her this would have been a complete blind side. I assumed it was coming, but I never expected to feel so betrayed, by Colin especially.

“We can’t send Colin in twice. Then the colonists will definitely know that it’s been rigged,” Mr. Martin commented.

“How will we explain the Carver girl being selected again?”

Mr. Martin shrugged. “We’ll call it a fluke.”

As I took in their conversation, I mentally bantered with myself on whether or not I should tell somebody. Oh, when my mother found out, she was going to blow a gasket. How could my parents have been so naïve? I didn’t think that either one of them had a clue about what Mr. Baker and Mr. Martin were up to.

Me, I was like my mother. Neither one of us liked or trusted Mr. Baker. But, my father, he went on confiding in him like he was God’s gift to this colony. My father needed to have his head examined.

Mr. Baker propped himself against the wall. “Georgina Carver is too smart for her own good. You better believe she’ll wreak havoc when her name is selected a second time. She’s got that strong-willed nature about her. Just like her mother. It’s important that nobody, I repeat nobody speaks of this outside our circle. If the Carver girl catches wind of it, she might plot something and we can’t have that before she’s eliminated.”

Eliminated. What did he mean eliminated?

“She’ll never find out,” Mr. Martin promised. “The only people who know anything about it are you, me, Colin, and Hank Edwards. I know for certain that none of them will talk.”

“It’s a shame it has to be this way, but we are running low on food and supplies. We have too many mouths to feed and aren’t producing enough to keep the whole colony fed.”

“Sometimes, you need to destroy things in order to rebuild them.”

“Or wipe them out entirely.”

“So it’s done, then,” Mr. Martin stated. “Do you want me to handle rigging the names or do you want to do it this time?”

Mr. Baker straightened himself out. “I’ll do it this time. There is a secret doorway in my room. It’s covered by an old rug. Place the box in there and I’ll configure everything sometime tomorrow.”

“It will be there,” Mr. Martin said.

“You know,” Mr. Baker began, “We’re lucky we’ve found a way to do this over. The Carver girl was never supposed to come back. She was supposed to end up just like the Vickers girl.”


Chapter 15: The Truth Shall Set You Free


Darkness which may be felt.

    
~ Exodus 10:21


For a while, I just sat alone in the mess hall consumed by the darkness. My mind was still processing key items from the conversation that I had just heard. Murder. These people were murderers. They conspired and had Monica Vickers killed. And now they were plotting to murder me! Over food!

The worst part was, that this plan Mr. Baker developed, about secretly murdering people to conserve food, wasn’t going to stop with me. Who was it going to be next? Grace?

Poor Monica. My heart went out to her, wherever she was. She was young, beautiful and kind, a lot like May. She didn’t deserve to die, especially over freaking portion control. If our food supply was running low, why couldn’t they just ask people to take less? I would have gladly sacrificed half of my food if I knew it would have kept Monica alive and well.

What would her family say when they found out? Would they believe me if I told them? I had no reason to lie or make up such a story, but Mr. Baker had this slimy way about him when it came to manipulating people. No… I couldn’t tell them. Not yet.

As I picked myself up off the cold, damp floor, an empty feeling swirled around in the pit of my stomach, and it wasn’t because I was hungry. It surfaced because I felt used, like a pawn in a game that I wasn’t invited to participate in. My life had no value to these people. They should have just chained me up and sold me off into slavery. Even a life of slavery had to be better than being surrounded by greedy, manipulative people who were full of lies.

How could I face Colin tomorrow, knowing what I knew now? Instead of feeling butterflies whenever he entered the room, I’d feel nauseated. Listening to the sound of his deep, once beautiful voice, would make my skin crawl. Separating the way I used to feel about him and my feelings for him now were going to be harder than anything I’d ever done. Colin was a con. A great big con artist. And I blamed myself for all of this more than anything because I bought everything he sold.

At the time, he had me genuinely believing he cared about me. Still confused, I debated on whether he was acting or not. He had to be, but there was so many times, where he displayed a chivalrous side. Like when he made his promise to me. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I will always protect you.” Or when he touched me tenderly, gazing deep into my eyes.

It always felt like he was looking past me, staring directly into my soul. If he didn’t care about me, I was convinced that he was one of the best actors I’d ever seen. Even better than the ones that were in movies. Perhaps. Colin could give Brad Pitt a run for his money.

Honestly. I’d always prided myself in being completely and totally honest with people. A person who could look someone directly in the eye and lie to their face didn’t have guts or a conscience. I had both. It was different when people who loved you did it. Yes, it was still wrong but, eventually when you found out, you knew they were only doing it because they truly cared about you.

My mother lied to me all the time but I knew she only did because she loved me so much. Like when I was ten and we had a heated debate on Santa Clause. She insisted that he was real, telling me that if I didn’t leave the milk and cookies out, that he wouldn’t come. I knew he wasn’t real. But Christmas isn’t the same without Santa. And even though she was lying to my face, I knew she wasn’t doing maliciously.

What Mr. Baker, Mr. Martin, and Mr. Edwards were doing was malicious. They weren’t just lying to me, they were lying and betraying an entire colony of people. The same people who took them in when they had nowhere else to go. None of us cared if that meant we had more mouths to feed. We were saving lives and that was all that mattered.

Sulking back to my room, I couldn’t hold back my deeply-rooted feeling of sorrow anymore. My eyes watered up, tears brimming over the edges. I was so overwhelmed with emotion, I had to stop in the middle of the hall and hold myself to keep it all together.

One tear after another, rained down my cheeks. Closing my eyes, I squeezed them together tightly, hoping to dry up my tears ducts. I let out a long sigh, and clenched my jaw as my temples started pounding and a sharp pain rippled through the stitched up gash above my forehead.“Get a hold of yourself,” I said, barely above a whisper.

It was time that I stopped crying and showed everyone who they were dealing with. I’d been through hell and back in the last three days and came out just fine. Part of my memory was gone and I was physically broken, but I wasn’t going to let that keep me down.

I refused to just sit back and let myself become another one of their victims. Like Mr. Baker said, “The Carver girl is too smart for her own good.” He was right about that.

Tomorrow, I would pretend like everything was perfect. I’d put on the best act of my entire life. I’d keep an eye on Mr. Baker at all times. I’d sneak in and out of the shadows, like a creature of the night. Then, when Mr. Baker and his family were out and about, I’d march right into his room, snatch the lottery box, and put his daughter’s name inside of it.


Chapter 16: Resurrected


Woe to her that is filthy and polluted, to the oppressing city!

    
~ Zephaniah 3:1


The chatter in the mess hall died down to silence as I entered. My eyes wandered around the room, stopping at my old table. Grace beamed at me, motioning for me to join her. I smiled back and made my way over to her. Colin wasn’t here yet, if he was going to show up at all. Someone probably informed him that I was coming out of hiding today. News around here spread faster than an avalanche on a snow capped mountain.

“So glad to have you back!” Grace gushed as I plopped down on my bench.

I laughed. “Grace, you’ve seen me every day this week.”

She grabbed my arm and placed her head against my shoulder. “Well, I still missed you at mealtimes.”

Turning away, I had a hard time looking at Grace. I felt like I was betraying her just by keeping what I knew about her sister a secret. But my plan wouldn’t work if I spilled everything now.

Last night, after I pieced myself back together, I lied awake in bed, plotting. I knew every aspect of Mr. Baker’s schedule and my plan wouldn’t have worked if I didn’t. Usually, I hated that we lived in such close proximity with all the colonists, but now it appeared that the closeness would work out to my advantage.

In the morning, Mr. Baker joined everyone in the mess hall for breakfast. Then, after breakfast, he went into the kitchen to count the food inventory. He counted every item himself, to ensure that nothing was stolen. That took him about three hours. With this many people, and everyone contributing something, that was a lot of food to count. When the inventory was completed, he’d go back to his room and, at 11:30 he’d join everyone else in the mess hall for lunch.

Afternoons consisted of council meetings, making his rounds, family time, and then dinner. My best shot at sneaking into his room would be during that council meeting .His wife would be in the kitchen prepping, for dinner because she organized all the meals and his kids would be having recreational time.

All the kids under eighteen had recreation time on Tuesdays and Thursdays after lunch. I liked to spend my time reading or playing checkers with Grace. Sometimes, Frankie would talk me into playing some kind of board game with her. Candyland was her favorite. But I’d beaten her so many times, now it was boring.

I was staring off, in a daze, consumed with my plan that I barely noticed Mr. Baker and his daughter Elise, standing before me. “It’s nice to see you, back and well, Miss Carver,” he squawked.

Taking a deep my breath, I lifted my head. I kept calm, a bright smile forming on my face. “Thank you, Mr. Baker.” I pushed a strand of my fiery red hair away from my face. “I’m so thankful to be back amongst the living.” I emphasized on the word living.

He nodded. “As you should be.” He turned to Elise. “Let’s go, dear.” He turned back to me. “Enjoy your breakfast, Miss Carver.”

“I will, thank you.” My eyes followed him over to his table as he and Elise took their seats.

Elise Baker was the same age as me. We weren’t friends. We were acquainted with each other, like everyone else was down here but, she had this arrogant, superior attitude, just like her father. I kept my eyes on her, as she ran her fingers through her honey brown hair. I wondered if she knew what her father had planned for me. No…..

Elise was snobby, always walking around with her nose in the air, or not speaking to anybody that she didn’t speak to first, but I didn’t think she was evil.

The table shook when Colin sat down across from me. “Hey there, Georgie,” he said kindly. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks, Colin,” I answered with a hint of flirtation in my voice. “I missed you,” I lied. “Why didn’t you come visit me again?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grace smirking at me, and then she winked. I winked back at her. Soon Grace, soon, I thought. Soon you won’t want to wink at me when you think about Colin Martin. You’ll want to rip out his jugular.

Colin fumbled with his words. “Um… Yeah… Uh. I just thought you needed your rest. I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude?” I raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t be intruding.” I reached up and fanned my fingers across his baby soft cheek.

He observed me, still tense. Then he slumped his shoulders relaxing. “I’m sorry, I should have been there,” he admitted.

“I forgive you.” My smile was stretched wide, and I could feel the dimples rising up in my cheeks.

He smiled back. “I’m glad.”

Inside, I was so sick and twisted with disgust that I thought about hunching over and throwing up next to the table, but beguiling Colin Martin was a pivotal part of my plan and I wasn’t about to screw it up. If anyone caught on to my little act, I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.

The rest of my morning passed by quickly. After breakfast, I went to the infirmary to visit May. “Look at you,” she gasped. “I’m so proud of your progress!” May was so easy to talk to. She just gave great advice and didn’t judge anyone. Sometimes, I found that I could talk to her more about certain things than I could my mother.

“May?”

“Yes, Georgie,” she said sweetly.

“This is all hypothetical, but just say you found out something important. And if you told someone it could hurt a lot of people. And if you didn’t you’d be keeping something very important from people you cared about. Would it be wise to keep it in or tell?”

She squinted. “Are you sure this all hypothetical?”

I nodded. “Yes.” Her eyes burned into mine. I hated doing this. I hated being like them. The ones who repeatedly lied to everyone. But I couldn’t tell her the truth yet because I hadn’t decided for sure if I wanted to or if it was the right time.

May shifted in her seat. “That depends on the secret the person is keeping. If it‘s something extremely important you should always tell. Keeping something like that from someone a person cares about is worse.”

“Thanks, May.” I got up and walked to the door.

During lunch, I set the second part of my plan in motion. I could feel Mr. Baker’s eyes on me as I walked up to my mother, hunched over, hugging my stomach. “Mom,” I moaned. “I don’t feel so hot.”

“Oh, no, honey, what’s wrong?” She frowned and placed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You’re a little warm. Do you want to go lay down for a while?”

“Yeah. I think I just need to rest for a little bit.”

My mother pushed her tray away and started getting up. She turned to my father, half-standing, half-sitting, and said, “I’m just going to walk her back to the room.”

My father nodded, leaning forward. “Feel better, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

My mother helped me into bed, then folded the blanket up under my chin. “I’m going to back to the mess hall,” she said. “Lunch will be over in an hour and I promised Margie Baker that I’d help with clean-up duty. Do you need anything before I go?”

“No,” I yawned. “I think I just need to sleep. I didn’t get much last night.”

She looked at me puzzled. “You didn’t? Why not?”

“My legs felt funny.”

“Describe funny. What was wrong with them?”

I shrugged, nonchalantly. “Nothing bad. They just felt a little jittery.”

“I see.” She appeared to be deep in though. “Well, do they feel alright, now?”

“They’re fine.”

She leaned in, brushing her lips softy against my forehead. “Feel better, sweetheart.” Then she waltzed out of my room.

I waited. The clock above me read 12:00 pm. In ten minutes, I would hurry into Mr. Baker’s room and switch the names in the ballot box before my mother could come back and realize I was gone.

* * *


The chatter from the mess hall ricocheted off the dirt walls of the hallway. Pressing my body flat against the wall, I crept passed the open doorway, careful not get myself noticed. I sucked in my breath and moved forward. The people in the mess hall were still eating and enthralled with the conversations they were having with one another.

Making a left turn, I placed my back against the opposite wall and walked right through the open doorway of the Baker family’s quarters. “Think, George, think.” Where did he say that box would be? Silently, I replayed the conversation between Mr. Baker and Mr. Martin in my mind. Yes! Mr. Baker said there was a hidden door behind a rug on the wall.

Observing the walls from top to bottom, and corner to corner, when I spun around to face the wall behind me, there it was. A long, crimson, rectangular antique rug. I picked up the bottom right corner, and sure enough, there was a door behind it. A massive wooden door with black,cast iron panels across the lower part and black iron bars along the upper part. It reminded me of a door that belonged in an 18th century prison. And how in the heck did he get it in here unnoticed? If I hadn’t heard about it before, I could bet my life that none of the other colonists had either.

As I twisted the black, oval doorknob, I stopped about half-way through the turn when the knob wouldn’t cross over. Damn it! The door was locked. There had to be a spare key in here somewhere.

I moved over to the dresser, prepared to tear through the drawers, when I heard the sound of whistling. At first it was faint, then it grew louder and louder, and I realized someone was heading toward the room. Seeing that the bed would be the only decent hiding place, I dove underneath, curling myself up into a little ball. “OWWWW!” I mouthed, forgetting the cut on my head when I dove headfirst into the dirt floor. Placing my fingers on the stitched up wound, I massaged it gently to take the searing pain away.

A pair of feet shuffled into the room. Mr. Baker. He removed a pair of keys from his pocket, and the jingling noise from them filled my ears. Disappearing behind the rug, I heard Mr. Baker stick a key into the slot of the door and then the click on the latch of the lock. Behind the rug, I could tell he was bending over to pick up the ballot box. The shuffling sound of paper led me to believe that he was planting my name in the box.

Just as he set the box back down, a loud blood curdling scream rang throughout the room. “What was that?” he questioned himself. Startled, he slammed the door, forgetting to lock it and was out of the room in a flash.

When I couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, I slithered out from underneath the bed, dragging my belly on the floor. I felt like one of those contortionists who could bend their body any way they wanted to. The only problem with that was bending like that made every bone and muscle in my body hurt.

Once I made certain the coast was still clear, I made a mad dash for the rug, opened the door quickly and slipped inside. Flipping open the lid to the box, I quickly removed two pieces of paper. I opened the first one with Dylan Edwards name on it and put it back in the box. I assumed the second one was mine, so I didn’t check it to confirm it.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Several pairs of footsteps were heading down the hall. Shit! I was pressed for time. Reaching into my back pocket, I removed the paper with Elise’s name, shoved it into the box and closed the lid quietly.

The footsteps were so loud that they drowned out the sound of my own breathing. There was no way I could get out of here without a member of the Baker family seeing me. I set the box down on the ground and slowly began backing up.

People were moving around the room, and I prayed that Mr. Baker wouldn’t open the door. Keys jingled again, like the bells on Santa’s sleigh. Then I heard the key scraping against metal and a click. Fuck. Mr. Baker locked me in his damn closet.

Backing up more, I expected to ram into a wall, but was pleasantly surprised when I noticed a short, rectangular path. “Hmm,” I said to myself. “What are you hiding in here, you sneaky weasel?” I followed the path about eight feet, coming to a stop at the end of it. To my right was a long cemented ramp that stretched diagonally at twenty-four feet, at the least.

Curious, I climbed the ramp, only to discover that at the top of it, there was another ramp. Then, when I reached the top of that ramp, surprise….Another ramp.

When I had climbed all three of them I made a mental note that if I saw one more ramp I was going to scream at the top of my lungs. So, I was extremely happy when I finished walking the last ramp and noticed a twelve-foot metal ladder with two bolted metal, hatch-like doors above it.

Excited, I practically ran up the ladder, climbing two rungs at a time, until I reached the top and had to push to open the metal doors. The entire adventure through Mr. Baker’s closet was intriguing, like a haunted maze that used to be put on in the cornfields around Halloween. I couldn’t wait to see what was waiting for me through the metal doors.

The first time I pushed, the doors wouldn’t budge. I tried again. Nope. It wasn’t until the third time that I was able to push the doors open and pull myself up out of the hole I was in.

Standing up, my eyes bugged out as I examined my surroundings. I marveled at the twenty television screens that were perched along a shiny silver wall. I gasped at the beautiful, black marble flooring—so clean I could see my reflection in it.

And I shook my head in disbelief as my eyes followed the twenty-foot long control panel that stretched along the bottom row of the televisions screens.

This place was like a dream. Even though it reminded me vaguely of a government lab, I thought the only kind of interiors I would see for the rest of my life were, dirt walls and cement floors. My mouth gaped open, the last time I saw anything like this, earth was still earth. Where did Mr. Baker get all of this stuff? And what was he using it for?

Still mesmerized, I spun around in a circle, then came to a halt. I wasn’t alone. Someone or something else was in the room with me. Afraid to turn around, I peeked over my shoulder and gawked at guy who couldn’t have been more than three years older than me. His shoulders were broad, his build athletic. He had deep, dark chocolate colored brown hair that was a bit on the long side. The color of his hair suited his almond complexion. He got closer and closer.

I spun all the way around. Our eyes met and locked. I lurched closer, not breaking my gaze. Until he was about three feet away from me and I saw them. I saw his eyes. His dark blue, mixed with voodoo purple, violet eyes.

He cocked his head to the side and crooked me a smile, his perfect sharpened teeth fully visible, dimples rising up in his cheeks.

I picked my feet up one at a time, every memory of the day I met him resurrecting, hitting me like a slap in the face. No….

Not him. 

I couldn’t stay here. I had to save myself. So I took off running.


Chapter 17: I’m Starving


Hast thou found me O mine enemy?

    
~ 1 Kings 21:20


He caught me by my shirt tail, twisted me around, and pressed his body into my back. I tried to slap his hands away but he gripped each side of my waist and held on tightly. Violet eyes. From now on, any time I thought about violet eyes, they would be associated with the word death. Chills of terror spread throughout my body as the warmth from his kept me from freezing. His lips were inching closer and closer to my neck and my knees started to tremble.

Then, he leaned in, close to my ear, his lips almost brushing against it . His hot breath against my neck made it tingle, and goose bumps appeared on my arms. I winced, preparing myself for the moment, where his teeth sink into my skin and rip the flesh away. I moved forward slightly and he pulled me back, wrapping his right arm around the front of me. Then he whispered into my ear,“Dinner,”he breathed.“It’s so nice to see you again. Did you miss me?”

At that point, my whole body was shaking.The day I met him came back to me so clearly. He hovered above me, his violet eyes staring straight into my soul, and then he smashed my head open with a rock. I teared up as I struggled to get the words out. “I’m… I’m…”

“Starving,” he said, finishing my sentence. “Very good, dinner. And here I thought you had forgotten about me.”

I began thrashing my arms and legs. “No. No. No.” That was all I could get out.

“There is no point in fighting me.” His deep voice came out soft, yet frightening. “That is a battle you will lose.”

Soon I found my voice and put it to good use. “Help! Someone help me!” I screamed—loud, shrill—and high pitched.

A low, husky laugh left his throat. “Nobody is going to hear you.”

“Help! Help!”

“Stop it, dinner,” he teased.

Rethinking my strategy, I slumped into his arms hoping that he would think that I’d given up the struggle. Straight ahead was the open hatch. If I played my cards right, I could make it there. “You told me your name was I’m Starving. You cracked my head open, left me paralyzed, and wrote me a sadistic letter. You said you were going to eat me.” His grip was loosening. “You’re a cannibal. Oh God!” He removed his hands from my waist and I took that as an open opportunity.

I bolted for the hatch, pumping my legs as hard as I could. And I was fast. But… he was faster. He raced ahead of me, slamming both of the hatch doors shut. I tried to sprint around him but he caught up to me before tackling me and pinning me down on the ground. “Dinner, you need to calm down.”

“Stop calling me that!” I shrieked. “I am no one’s dinner!”

“Fine then, can I have a name, please?”

“Georgina,” I sobbed.

“Relax, Georgina. I’m not going to eat you,” he stated.He spoke sincerely so why did everything about the entire situation feel wrong? I blinked several times, trying to correct my blurred vision. I glanced at his face and he looked concerned. And not at all how I remembered him.

The sequence of events that took place that day resurfaced in my mind. Colin was running toward me, frightened. Then I took off running. And he passed me, ignoring my cries for help. Colin didn’t even look back. He just ran forward as a heartless, spineless coward, while the guy above tackled me, threatened my life, then bashed my skull in.

“Who are you?” I asked in a robotic tone, staring blankly ahead.

“My name is Owen Sanders.” He backed up off of me.

“And are you a cannibal, Owen Sanders?”

“No,” he announced. “I am not.”

When I saw him, out in the earthly desert, he had cannibalistic traits. The sharpened teeth, blood smeared all over him, sadistic demeanor. Looking at him now, even though he was cleaned up with his shiny skin, kind eyes, and normal clothing, he still reminded me of a cannibal. “You’re not?” I asked, warily.

He shook his head. “No.”

I sat up abruptly, almost whacking him in the head. “That doesn’t change anything. You almost killed me! And then you left me all alone bleeding and unable to move!” I snapped.

“I saved you,” he harrumphed. “You don’t know anything!”

I cackled hysterically. “You saved me. You and I have a very different interpretation on what the word save means.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do we, now?”

I scoffed. “Yes, we do!”

He got up off the floor and stalked over to the control panel. “We’ll see about that.”

“Where are you going?” I shouted as I rose to my feet. He didn’t answer. I watched him carefully as he picked something up off the control panel. Then he walked over to me and chucked the item at me. I missed the catch and the item bounced on the floor several times before I walked over to pick it up.

“I cut your head open, so I could take that out!”

I palmed the tiny iridescent barcode that looked a lot like a computer chip. “What is this?”

“It’s a censor. It was implanted in your brain, to be used as a tracking device, among other things.”

“This can’t be from my brain. You are just feeding me a load of bull. I’ve never had one of these inserted.”

He shook his head. “That you know of.”

“I think I would know if I had a censor inserted into my brain.”

“Mark Baker is a very crafty man,” he stated. “You’d be surprised what he’s capable of. All of the children in your underground world have censors. And I assume that it’s only a matter of time before he figures out a way to implant them in the adults too. The man is obsessed with control.”

That was something that I already knew. But I still had a hard time believing that someone who attacked me had actually saved me. “Right.” I rolled my eyes. “How can you expect me to believe that? After the way you treated me out there.”

He shrugged. “Believe what you want. But, I’m telling you the truth.”I opened my mouth to reply, but then I noticed the hatch-like doors shaking. Owen’s face contorted into a look of panic and he grabbed me by the shoulder. “You need to hide.”

Scowling, I pulled my shoulder away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He gripped my upper arm tightly and shoved me through a pair of steel doors just as the hatch smacked against the marble. “Owen,” Mr. Baker called. “Are you up here?”

I rested my ear against the metal door, listening to the sound of their muffled voices. “I’m here,” Owen replied.

Mr. Baker’s feet clinked against the marble floor. “Can you bring up the footage from last Sunday please?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

I waited a few minutes in silence as Owen obviously did what he was instructed to do. I heard his fingers pounding against the keyboard on the control panel and the sound of a foot tapping nervously. “Stop there,” Mr. Baker commanded.

Then a loud slap echoed so loud that I was certain our underground colony would be able to hear. “Ugh,” Owen moaned.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it!” Mr. Baker shouted. “You were supposed to kill that girl! Now we have a severe shortage in food and guess what that means?”

“What does it mean?” Owen growled.

“That you won’t be eating for a few days.”

Barely breathing, I had a sudden urge to bust through the doors and kill Mr. Baker myself. I had lots of theories that involved him but none of them were like this. The man was a tyrannical monster. I regretted the day that my father agreed to let his family live in our colony.

On top of that, he was feeding Owen! From our food supply! Normally, that wouldn’t bother me in the least, but when he was killing off members of the colony because of food shortages I had every right to be disturbed.

Now I knew what I had to do. I had to tell me parents. And I had to tell the Vickers family—and any other family that wasn’t involved in his little conspiracy theory. It was the only sure shot way that I could guarantee we had a chance in saving ourselves.

The sound of the metal hatch doors slamming shut snapped me to attention. Seconds later, Owen yanked the doors open and nodded for me to come out. “It’s safe now,” he said, quietly.

A deep red mark swelled on his cheek. I reached up to touch it and he backed away from me, wincing. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Does he do that all the time?” I realized that despite everything I had been through, I wasn’t the only victim here.

Owen smiled, half-heartedly. “Only when I don’t do what I’m told. Which is ninety five percent of the time. So, yeah, pretty often.”

“So if you don’t obey him, if you don’t mind me asking why does he keep you around?”

He pointed to the television screens. “I suppose because I’m a tech genius and he can’t run this system without me.”

My eyes followed his finger and centered on the screen with mine and his picture on it. Owen was hovering above me, the rock in his hand, preparing to drop it on my head. “You were supposed to kill me?”

“I was supposed to… but I couldn’t. Same with that Monica girl. I’m not a killer. I couldn’t do that.”

Monica. My heart ached when I thought about her. “Well, if you didn’t kill her, then who did?”

Owen glanced at the television screen, then back at me. “I can’t explain everything now. There isn’t enough time. I have to get you back.”

On one of the screens, I could see the entire colony, coming together in the meeting room. “How am I going to get back? Mr. Baker locked the door to my only way out.”

Owen led me down a short hallway. I stood in the center and there was a big red button in front of me. He pressed the button and I stumbled as the floor shook and I was being lowered into the ground. “What’s going on?” I questioned, feeling uneasy. “This will drop up off in the center of the mess hall. Meet me there tonight at 11:00 pm. I’ll come for you, I promise.”

After Colin, I had a hard time trusting in anyone. “I don’t believe in promises anymore,” I said. “They always seem to get broken.”

Owen laughed. “Well, I can say this and mean it. I never break mine.”

Just as he uttered those words, the lift closed him off and blocked him from my view. Then I was going down, back into a place where I knew for certain that I wouldn’t be safe.


Chapter 18: What’s in a Name


The dead which he slew at his death we more than which he slew at his life.

    
~ Judges 16:33


Just as Owen said, I wound up on the floor in the middle of the mess hall. It was quiet and there wasn’t a person in sight. I picked myself up off the ground and brushed the loose soil from my pants. Then, I heard my mother shouting, “Where have you been, Georgina Marie?”

Oh, no. I had to think up a lie and think of one quick. “I took a nap, woke up, then went for a walk.” I hoped that she believed me. I did sound pretty convincing when I said it.

She marched over to me and grabbed me by the hand. “From now on, when you go somewhere, you need tell either me or your father. I came back to the room and you were gone. I’ve been searching the rooms for the last hour.” She tugged me through the open doorway and down the hall.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked. Even though I already knew where I was going, I couldn’t let her know anything.

“The council called some emergency meeting.”

“With all the families?”

“Yes,” she grumbled. “I told your father that I didn’t want any of us to go but he insisted.”

The funny thing was that I knew exactly what was going to happen at the emergency meeting. And I couldn’t wait to see the look on Mark Baker’s face when he saw the surprise that I had in store for him.

The entire meeting room turned to face my mother and me as she dragged me through the door, yanking on my arm. I did my best not to run into anyone, weaving in and out of the people in the crowd. Mr. Baker stood on the small, dirt stage with the rest of the council members, eyeing me suspiciously. Once we got to the front, my mother pulled Frankie up from the side of the stage and tucked us both underneath her arms.

Mr. Baker waited a moment, then stepped forward, raising his arm to quiet down the crowd, that since my arrival, had broken out into a hushed roar of whispers. When I took a moment to look at him, I mean really look at him, I couldn’t see the feeble, yet authoritative man who stood before me. All I saw was a monster. A monster who plotted murder for his own selfish reasons.

Closing my eyes, I pictured the loud crack of his palm when he slapped Owen across the face. Then I focused on Frankie and several other children in the room. How did this one man have us all so fooled? I wondered when he inserted that censor into my head or any other child in the room for that matter.

Thinking of everything he had done set the rage burning deep inside of me on fire. I wanted to hurt him, but not just for myself. I wanted him to suffer for the future lies, betrayal, and pain he would cause the people of the colony. I wanted him to suffer for Monica, a beautiful, innocent girl whose life he’d stolen for the sake of his own obsession with greed and power. If it wasn’t for my mother, with her firm on my shoulders, I’d be up there already, and I’d kick that treacherous snake where it counted.

“Colonists,” Mr. Baker announced. “We gathered all of you here so you could witness the drawing of the second lottery. Two random names have been selected.” He cleared his throat and went on. “We have heard complaints from several of you last time about not being able to witness the names being drawn. While the names have already been selected, we invite you all to witness who will be breaching the earth’s surface, next Sunday at noon.” He turned to Mr. Martin. “Dale, can you bring me the box, please?”

Mr. Martin lifted the box up from the center of the small, wooden picnic table in the middle of the stage. He flipped the lid open and placed it on Mr. Baker’s outstretched hands. “Here you go, Mark.”

Mr. Baker nodded. “Thank you, Dale.”

A triumphant grin spread across my lips. Yeah, I was definitely getting my opportunity to kick him where it counted. Just in a slightly different way.

He removed the first piece of paper, unfolded it, and called out the first name, “Dylan Edwards,” he boomed. “You’ll be the next male.”

I glanced over at the Edwards family. Dylan looked proud, like venturing out into the frightening world was an initiation, a test of his manhood. His mother and sister, on the other hand, had tears streaming down their cheeks.

Mr. Baker stuck his hand into the box for a second time, and removed the final piece of paper. “And the female who will be joining him is…”

Those last few seconds felt like hours. Open it! Open it! I urged him on mentally. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted to see the look on his face when he saw his own daughter’s name in that box. My eyes zoomed in on the paper as he unfolded the first corner. His fingers were trembling. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and drizzled down his chubby little cheeks.

He couldn’t lie with everyone here watching him and I could tell it was making him nervous. Then, he unfolded the paper a second time and that was when my father stepped up behind him and glanced at the paper over his shoulder.

He clutched the paper, gripping the paper so hard he crinkled the edges. Every colonist in the room glared at him as a wide range of expressions passed over his face. First, confusion. Then anger. Finally sadness. Me, I’d reached the point where I’d started laughing. The crowd was growing impatient. Colonists began whispering and moving around. Finally, someone shouted, “Just read it, already!”

“Um… Yeah… Uh.” Mr. Baker paused, trying to regain his composure and the crowd. Then, he blurted out, “It’s Georgina Carver!”

One by one, people started shouting.

What?

That can’t be right?

She went last time!

Is this thing rigged?

I didn’t even care that he called out my name. He was desperate. And desperate people went to extreme measures to try and get themselves out of a bind.

My father reached up and snatched the paper out of Mr. Baker’s grasp. He scanned the name on the paper, his eyes lingering on the written name for a minute. Then he smacked the paper against Mr. Baker’s chest. “This says Elise Baker,” he snarled. “These names are supposed to be selected at random and everyone between the ages of sixteen to eighteen is supposed to have a turn. And my kid is not going two times in a row!”

During that moment, the entire room broke out in chaos. People were screaming and chanting, “Liars!” Mr. Martin and Mr. Edwards kept glancing between Mr. Baker and my father with confused expressions on their faces. My eyes found Colin’s in the crowd. I gave him a wicked smirk and winked.

Colin Martin was now my sworn enemy, and if he couldn’t tell that by the expression I just gave him, then he was a bigger airhead than I thought he was.

The crowd started swarming the stage. The little children in the room were startled by all of the commotion, crying and throwing temper tantrums as their parents tried to calm them down. My father looked lost. The entire colony was out of control.

“Cast Baker out!” a women, bouncing her hysterical toddler shouted. Elise Baker was in the upper left corner of the crowd hyperventilating.

“We trusted you! And this is how you repay us?” shouted a man in the back.

As the crowd filed out of the room, my mother kept her hands on my shoulders and guided me and Frankie toward the door. I jerked slightly when I felt someone yanking on my arm. Mr. Baker’s face was red and splotchy, his eyebrows scrunched together, enraged. “I know it was you!” he shrieked. “It was supposed to be you! It was supposed to be you!”

My mother threw herself in between us, scowling at Mr. Baker. “You leave my daughter alone. You hear me, Mark! Don’t you lay another finger on her!”

Mr. Baker threw my mother out of the way and lunged at me, his hands open, aiming for my neck. My father jumped off the stage and picked Mr. Baker up by his collar. “You and your family, you’re done here! You’re officially cast out!”

“You can’t make that decision,” Mr. Baker growled. “It has to be decided according to a vote.”

My father glared over his shoulder as the council members appeared lined up along the stage. “All in favor of casting out the Bakers?”

One by one, each council member raised a hand. Except for Mr. Martin and Mr. Edwards, of course. Then, my father still holding onto Mr. Baker’s collar lifted his left hand in the air. “We voted,” my father said, sternly. “You’re out.” My father looked back at the council members. “Would anyone else like to join Mark?”

In unison, I watched all of the council members shake their heads. Including Mr. Martin and Mr. Edwards. Wherever the Bakers were going, nobody was too keen on following them.

Mr. Baker pried himself away from my father’s grasp. “You’re going to regret this! All of you! I can promise you that!”

It wasn’t until that moment that I stepped forward and tapped Mr. Baker lightly on the shoulder. He faced me, his breathing heavy, teeth grinding and his fists balled up. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out the piece of paper with my name, grabbed his palm, pried open his fingers and slapped the piece of paper down.

Mr. Baker, knowing what the piece of paper was, closed his fist around it, crumbled it up and dropped it on the ground. And then, I leaned in, my lips right next to his ear and whispered, “That was for the Vickers girl.”


Chapter 19: A Kept Promise Isn’t Always Best


Until the daybreak, and the shadows flee away, I will get thee to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

    
~ Song of Solomon 4 1:6


Owen told me to meet him in the middle of the mess hall at 11:00 pm. I was there five minutes early, pacing back and forth across the floor, in the darkness. I had faith in Owen. He made me a promise and according to him, he wasn’t the type to break a promise that he’d made.

There were so many questions I had that I felt needed answered. Owen, was my only hope if I ever wanted to hear those answers. He knew things—secretive things—about the cannibals, the colonists, and Monica Vickers’s death. He’d told me that he wasn’t responsible for killing her. I didn’t think Owen was lying, because if he were, then I would have wound up dead too. In the end, I didn’t think anything would go back to normal until Owen filled me in on some of the things I needed to know.

One thing I knew for certain, was the we, the colonists and myself, were like lab rats in a cage, always being monitored, every one of our movements carefully documented. And the worst part of all of it, none of us knew that the monitoring was going on. We walked around blindly, assuming that we were lucky to be alive, while the rest of the human population rotted and withered away.

At least if I was starving to death, I’d still have my freedom. I’d probably die a horrible and no doubt painful death, but no one would be peeping in on me, tracking my every movement, and at the end, I’d finally be at peace.

I’d seen helpless starving people before, in the streets of the city, during the beginning stages of The Great Famine. Most of the inhabitants had only gone weeks without eating, yet they knew what the future held for them. They hit their knees, begging and pleading with hopelessness in their eyes for someone to come along and put them out of their misery. They’d rather have someone blow their brains out than live through the devastation of pestilence and famine.Sometimes, I thought that way too, but not now, not anymore.

Giving up was way too easy. I’d fought out the last two years, starving, overcoming obstacles, and watching people die. And even though it hurt to see the human population, especially the children, fade away, it made me stronger as a person and it made me want to keep fighting.

The minutes began to dwindle down. First, there were five, then four, now only three minutes remained until it was eleven o’clock. Mid-pace, I stopped and squinted up at the ceiling as my eyes adjusted to the blackness. I was anticipating the lift coming down through the center of the mess hall, even fabricating the illusion of the sound it made in my mind.

An eerie silence crept up on me like a venomous cobra with its back arched, preparing to strike it’s victim. I couldn’t even hear the sound of my own breathing because I was pretty sure that I hadn’t breathed for an entire minute. That led me to believe that even though I still had time left until eleven o’clock, that maybe Owen was going back on his word.

Now it was one minute to eleven o’clock and I was really beginning to worry. The last time I saw Mr. Baker, the rage inside of him was clawing at his insides, eating him alive. What if he showed up and did something terrible to Owen? The sound of his earlier slap echoed in my head. “Oh, no,” I gasped. What if he killed him?

After what Mr. Baker did to Monica, and what he tried to do to me, I wouldn’t have put it past him. I imagined that he was in an extremely bad mood after everything that went down at the council meeting. I, in particular, enjoyed the last few words I’d shared with him and the look on his face that accompanied those words.

I had no regrets in exposing myself to him in those final seconds. Even though he assumed I was the one that switched the ballots, he would have never known for sure until I mentioned it to him. I might have set myself up for some kind of act of revenge, but I doubted that. And even if I did, I felt like somebody owed it to Monica Vickers to bring her murderer to justice. Thankfully, justice was served out properly at my hand.

Wherever Monica was, I hoped that she was somewhere smiling and happy. I hoped that she could move on knowing that her death had been avenged.

It was officially eleven o’clock. Still no Owen. I resorted to sitting down, on the floor, Indian style. Silently, I told myself that I would wait until 11:05 and not a minute later. If Owen didn’t show up, I could kiss any answers to any questions that I may have had goodbye. “Please come, Owen. Please.”

To pass the time, I swirled my finger around on the concrete floor, thought about tomorrow, and thought about Owen and his stunning, violet eyes. In the two years that our colony had been established, we’d never cast anyone out before, The Baker family would be the first.And even though I despised Mr. Baker, it was still going to be difficult for me to watch him and his family being escorted from the colony.

Also, the fact that I would probably never see Owen again haunted me. He did trick me, let me believe he was a flesh-eating monster ready to devour me at a moment’s notice, but in my short time knowing him, I’d grown fond of the guy who I could now call my savior. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be walking around with a censor inside of my brain, my every movement being tracked.

And…

If it wasn’t for Owen, I’d most likely be dead.

Whenever I thought about death, I always wound up frightened. Death was final. There was no coming back from it. Even living in the kind of world where people dying every day was the norm, death was still a tough subject to think about.

At four minutes to eleven, I’d given up on Owen. The dutiful part of me wanted to wait another five minutes, but the logical part of me consumed the dutiful part and swallowed it whole. As much as I hated to admit it, Owen was a no-show. He wasn’t coming.

Getting to my feet, even though I knew what was best, walking out of the mess hall was difficult for me. I struggled taking those first few steps to the open doorway. I had no closure, and without closure I’d never be able to move I’d with my life. I’d constantly be asking myself ‘what if?’

I dragged my feet against the cement, shuffling and scuffing them, trying to detain myself a little bit longer. At the open doorway, I glanced over my shoulder into a pit full of darkness as the depressed feeling that began in my heart swept over my entire body. Then, I began walking back to my room.

It wasn’t until I was half-way down the hall that I heard a noise. A soft, vibrating noise that hummed, like a motor in a brand new car. I pivoted around. I didn’t see anyone following me. There were no footsteps, no shadows against the walls. The humming sound intensified. “Where is that coming from?” Perhaps it was a stupid idea for me to investigate, but with Mr. Baker and his family departing tomorrow, I felt like I had nothing to fear.

The humming sound started to putter as I moved toward the mess hall. I took small, slow steps easing myself forward. Then, when I reached the open doorway and peeked around the wall, Owen shined a flashlight in my eyes, a radiant smile on his face, violet eyes gleaming in the afterglow of the dim lighting.

I rushed toward him, beaming and elated. Relief washed over me when I got closer and was able to gaze into his eyes. “You’re here!” I half-shouted, half-whispered. “I thought something happened to you.”

Letting out a controlled, hushed laugh, he extended his arms to me and pulled me up on to the lift. He wrapped his right arm around my waist and held it tightly to his body. Then, he hit a button on the lift and we started going up, up into the ceiling.

Hugging him tightly, I never wanted to let go. An overwhelming sense of warmth and safety flourished throughout me and I knew I could trust him. He hit another button on the lift and spun me around to face him. He brushed my hair off of my shoulders, leaned down into my ear, and whispered, “See, like I said before, I never break my promises.”


Chapter 20: Something Wicked This Way Comes


For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known

    
~ Corinthians 1:13


The lift jolted to a stop in between floors. I stumbled forward and Owen caught me, steadying my stance. “Easy there,” he said, softly.

Once I got a firm hold on my balance, I looked at him puzzled. “Why did you stop the lift? Aren’t we going up to the control room?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have much time and we can’t go up there. Mark is there. He’stearing all of the stuff down because he’s leaving tomorrow.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t have much time?”

“I’m leaving in thirty minutes.”

“What?” I screeched. The sound of my voice filled the narrow, confined space.

Owen lifted his finger to his lips. “SHHH! Do you want Mark to hear you?”

At that moment, Mr. Baker was the least of my concerns. My first and major concern was the fact that I might never see Owen again. “Do you know where you’re going?” Perhaps it wouldn’t be too far. If it wasn’t that far, then that would make us being able to see each other doable.

His violet eyes pierced my chocolate ones, full of uncertainty. “I don’t know. I just know that Mark made it clear to me that wherever he goes I have to follow.”

The last sentence he spoke made me furious. Where was his free will? Did he always intend on being Mr. Baker’s little puppet? And did he honestly think that he wouldn’t be doing the same kind of things somewhere else as he did here? “Do you always do what he tells you?” I asked, crossing my arms and tapping my foot.

He smiled, seductively. “Not always. I kept you alive didn’t I?”

I blushed. “Yes.” The sight of his smile always made my heart flutter—like the exciting feeling a kid would get when they got a present they had been longing for. “But, he treats you so badly. And on top of that, he’s an evil, evil man.”

Owen looked down and took both of my hands in his. He gently brushed his thumb against my skin and spoke sweetly, “I’m not going to disagree with you on that.” He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “But, I’ve known Mark Baker for years and he does have some redeeming qualities.”

“Ha!” I spat out. “Like what?”

He smirked. “Do you know that I’m a child prodigy? I graduated high school when I was twelve years old. College at seventeen with my Masters in technology and PhD at eighteen in Nuclear medicine.”

He traced my jaw line with the tip of his finger. “I’m sure you’d believe it if I told you Mark Baker didn’t raise chickens for a living.” Oh, I definitely believed that. There was no way Mr. Baker’s obsession with control and tyrannical ways came from raising chickens. “He and I worked together for the government on a string of top secret projects. And everyone in our division had an alias lifestyle. Me, I was a pizza boy.”

I laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

He nodded. “Would you expect your neighborhood pizza boy as a secret government official?”

“No. Not at all.” I tried to picture my neighborhood pizza boy. His name was Barry, he always smelled like stale cigarettes, and he always had this dumfounded look on his face.

Owen went on. “After the asteroid hit, and the earth and human population slowly began to die, I was left without a home, without food, and without hope—just like a lot of others who, unfortunately, are now bones lining the sides of the road.

“Then, one day Mark Baker found me, sick and dying of starvation, lying on the side of the road. And he took me in. He promised to keep me fed and alive, as long as I helped him with some of the things he wanted me to do.”

In that moment, I felt for him, I did, but there are some things a person shouldn’t agree to, whether they are rotting from starvation or not. “Owen, do you know what you’re doing? If you’re as smart as you say you are, you’d see that whether he saved you or not, what you’re doing for him is wrong. It’s criminal!” Placing both of my hands on his shoulder blades, I looked him dead in the eye. “How many more people have to die for loyalty?”

He rolled his shoulders, pulling away from me. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

I furrowed my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re one of the lucky ones. You live trapped in this little bubble of a society, eating every day, two or three times a day. I’ve seen people bite off their own fingers to feed themselves. I’ve felt my organs shriveling up inside of me because of my lack of nourishment. I’ve felt my bones through my skin while my exterior wasted away.”

I glared at him incredulously. “Do you mean to tell me, that you think I haven’t witnessed or felt the devastation of The Great Famine?”

“You haven’t.”

“You don’t know anything,” I growled. My mind instantly reverted back to those two little boys, the ones who cried day and night for their mother. I gulped hard, trying to erase the thought. “I’ve seen a lot more than you think I have Owen Sanders, and I can tell you this, I’d rather starve to death with my dignity than live with a belly full of food doing someone else’s dirty work.”

Owen narrowed his eyes. “You say that now, but have you ever starved?”

“I’ve gone days without eating,” I shot back.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, then,” I said sarcastically. “Enlighten me, genius.”He bit his upper lip and shook his head. “Starving to death is a slow, torturous, and agonizing process. First, every ounce of fat and muscle on your body melts away. You become someone different, someone you didn’t think you could be, snapping at people, resorting to violence, and losing your sanity. Then, your skin cracks from dehydration and you develop multiple diseases because your body is so weak that your immune system fails to fight them off.

“Finally, your organs begin to shut down. One. By. One. If you’re lucky you’ll die after the first one goes. If not, you’ll be forced to endure weeks of pain—like the intestines being ripped from your body whole.” My mouth dropped open and I gawked at him. Nobody had ever fully explained it to me that way. “I’ve been there,” he went on. “I’ve been on death’s doorstep. And I can name at least a hundred other people who have done exactly what I did. Hell, they would have done exactly what I did to lick the crumbs off someone’s plate. So forgive me for choosing life instead of an agonizing death.”

I shook my head. Even though I thought that maybe,  he made the right decision time. There was no excuse for him still doing everything Mr. Baker commanded him to. “How long do you think Mr. Baker is going to keep you around, knowing that you’re letting the people he wants killed, go? Owen, that is something you really have to think about. Are you willing to murder another human being—an innocent human so that you can eat? And if you say yes that would be the most sad, pitiful, and selfish thing that I’ve ever heard.”

He looked down at his hands. “Well, technically, I’m not the one who’ll be doing the killing.”

“Owen,” I snapped.

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t. Mark controls all of the cannibals in this area.”

I couldn’t believe that he was still trying to…

Wait… “What?”

“Mark controls all of the cannibals in this area,” he repeated.

“What do you mean ‘controls’ them?”

“He operates them. He put computer chips in their brains that allows him to control them.”

This was startling news. And I couldn’t stomach it. I was starting to feel queasy. I didn’t want him to tell me anymore. Every time he revealed something new felt like a bomb going off inside of me. “Are you trying to say that the cannibals aren’t real?”

“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong, they are definitely real. I’ve seen the real ones up close. But the ones around here, yeah, they are like cyborgs. Mark used to operate them from the control panel upstairs.”

“He controls who they eat?”

“Well, most of the time. The chip in their brain can be turned on and off from the control panel, but Mark is the only one who knows the code. He would never tell me what it was.”

“The ones you were with?”

“Yes.”

The next question was stuck in my throat. I almost didn’t want to ask it at all, then, suddenly, I blurted out, “Did they kill Monica? Did Mr. Baker make them kill Monica?” I flinched, expecting him to say yes quickly.

“No. They didn’t.”

“But she is dead, right? And she was killed.”

Owen nodded. “Yes to both. She is dead and she was killed, but not by the cannibals.”

“Then by who?”

“One of the decayed ones.”

“No…” I cupped my hands over my mouth when I thought of Monica enduring hours of torture, her limbs being hacked away, before she was finally eaten alive. “That can’t be.” I almost wanted him to say that a cannibal consumed her. At least then I knew she would have been given a merciful death. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“How can you be sure?”

Owen looked away from me and didn’t meet my gaze. “You don’t want to know.”

“I do, though.”

“No you don’t.”

Part of me wanted to know and part of me didn’t. What if it was too gruesome for me to handle? What would I say to her family? I already had to tell them that their daughter didn’t just disappear, I had to tell them that she had been murdered. “Just tell me, Owen.” Better that I found out sooner rather than later.

Owen opened his mouth to answer me and a light started flickering behind us. I looked at him, puzzled. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“I have to go.”

“No,” I pleaded. “Please don’t go.”

“I’m sorry.” He started the lift and it began going down.

“Owen, please,” I begged. “You don’t have to go with him. You can stay here with me.”

“No,” he said. “I can’t.”

The lift came to a halt, looming right above the floor in the mess hall. “Can you at least tell me what happened to Monica? How do you know that she was killed by a decayed one?” Owen set me down on the floor and the lift started going back in to the ceiling. “Owen, tell me!” I shouted, not caring if I woke up the entire colony.

Just before the lift went up and cut off Owen’s head from my view he said, “I know that Monica was killed by a decayed one. And I know it for sure because I found her head.”


Chapter 21: All Good Things Eventually Come to an End


And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.

    
~ Revelation 21:1


Hours after Owen dropped me off, I lied awake, disturbing images passing in and out of my subconscious mind. First, images of Monica, her brown hair spread out along the loose ashes of the earth’s surface, her face contorted in agony as she begged and pleaded for her life. Then Mr. Baker came into focus as he pounded away the keys on the control panel keyboard, typing things like “Attack!” or “Eat Them!”

Finally, I saw myself, strapped down to a hospital gurney. A surgeon with a scalpel hovered above me, lowering it slowly, inch by inch. I tried to scream but I had no voice and the closer the scalpel came to the top of my head, the more real the thought felt. It was like I was seconds away from receiving a lobotomy without an anesthetic.

Someone was tugging on my arm and I started to panic. I thrashed violently, feeling my palm connect with a person’s cheek. “Ouch,” Frankie whimpered, and then she started wailing. “Mommy! Mommy!”

I bolted upright in my bed and realized I was having a nightmare. Frankie recoiled, sulking over to her bed, and she curled up into a little ball. She sobbed softly and I exhaled slowly.

“Frankie, come here,” I said convincingly.

She whipped her head and snapped, “No!” before tucking it back into her lap.

“Frankie, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I was having a bad dream.”

“You slapped me!” she cried as she rocked back and forth.

“I promise I didn’t mean to.” I twitched my head to the side. “Now, come over here and lie down with me.” I scooted closer to the dirt wall and patted the empty side of my cot.

Frankie hesitated, unfolding herself from her ball as my mother rushed through the door. “What’s going on?” she gasped, winded.

“I was having a nightmare and I accidentally slapped Frankie across the face,” I admitted.

She looked at Frankie solemnly and rushed to her bed side. “Oh, baby, are you okay?” she asked, whispering in a comforting tone.

Frankie dug her balled up fist in her eye and dried her tears. “Yeah,” she murmured.

“I’m sure Georgie didn’t mean to slap you.” My mother glared at me. “Right, Georgie?”

I rolled my eyes. “I already apologized, Mom.”

Her eyes shifted to the end of the bed and zoomed in on something. “What’s that?” she asked as I followed her gaze.

At the end of my bed was a white envelope and my name had been scrawled across the front of it. “I honestly don’t know.” I crawled toward the edge of my bed and picked up the envelope.

“Oh, a love letter,” she teased. “I bet it’s from Colin Martin.”

Just my mother mentioning his name made me want to hurl. Colin Martin was a coward and not only that, he was involved in a conspiracy to commit murder, my murder. I bet my mother wouldn’t think so I highly of him when I told her that. “It’s not from Colin Martin,” I corrected. “It’s from someone else.” I knew very well that it was a letter from Owen.

Considering how rushed he was last night, when he dropped me off, it tickled my heart that he took the time to write me a letter and drop it off. I wondered where he was at that moment, just how far he had traveled or if he wound up stopping somewhere that wasn’t too far away. I knew he couldn’t have ended up anywhere in the west because California, Washington, Oregon, Nevada and Arizona were gone.

“Well, who’s it from then?” my mother inquired.

I hugged the letter to my chest to keep her from seeing it. “Nobody important.”

Frankie giggled. “I think Georgie has a boyfriend.”

“I do too,” my mother said to Frankie. “But let’s let Georgie worry about her own boy problems, okay.”

Frankie hopped to her feet. “Okay.”

My mother rose from the bed. “Get ready for breakfast girls.” She walked out of the room and Frankie followed her.

I waited until I couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore and then I tore into the letter, pulling the paper free from the envelope.

Then I scanned each word, like I was permanently embedding them in my mind.


Georgina,

I’m sorry our conversation got out of control at some point yesterday. Believe me, that was the last thing I wanted. Mark has given me clear instructions on where I’m supposed to go. Somewhere East. According to him, there is an area close to where Canada used to be that has been untouched by The Great Famine. 

I guess he and his family will begin their journey there tomorrow—which is today for you by the time you actually get to read this letter.

I’ve truly enjoyed the little time I spent with you and I will think of you always .And if the place where I’m headed really hasn’t been touched by the asteroid or The Great Famine, I will come back for you, I promise.

    
Yours,


Owen


Folding up the letter, I shoved it under my bed before any one of my family members had the chance to come in and catch me with it. Then I remained in bed soaking every word in.

A place untouched by The Great Famine. That had to be a distorted story or illusion Mr. Baker had dreamt up. The Great Famine had destroyed the entire world. Even though, I knew Owen was strong, him making the journey alone worried me. Real cannibals. The decayed ones. Both of those creatures would be out there past our little colony.

Thinking back to my time on the new earth, I remembered when I was out there alone, without Colin, and someone or something was toying with me. After my mother educated me on the decayed ones I realized that I’d had my first encounter with one. How did I know? Cannibals didn’t toy with their food. They killed you quickly, eager to ease the hunger pains in their stomach.

What I encountered in the middle of the desert/earth that day enjoyed making me afraid. They enjoyed watching me squirm every time they came too close. Definitely not a cannibal. Most definitely a decayed one.

Frankie busted through the door, interrupting my thoughts. “Georgie, come quick!” she squealed.

“What is it Frankie? Did something happen? Where’s Mom?”

“No, nothing happened,” she sighed. “The Bakers are leaving. I thought you’d want to see. All the colonists are gathered in the hall.”

Still in my pajamas, I hopped off my bed and stood in my doorway. Colonists lined the hall as the Baker family walked up the center, carrying all of their belongings .The remaining members of the council stood in front of the rope ladder and Mr. Baker scowled at me as he walked by. “You’re going to pay for this,” he growled. “This is all your fault.”

I smirked. “Why, because I wouldn’t roll over and play dead?”

He glowered at me and turned his attention to my father as my father helped Elise up onto the ladder. Mr. Vickers was waiting at the top, with the slab of boulder already removed for their departure. One-by-one, each member of the Baker family ascended until Mr. Baker was the only one left. “You will all regret this.”

I glanced down the hall. Several colonists shook their heads in disappointment. A few of them even flipped him the bird. I turned back toward the ladder as Mr. Baker began his climb. At the top, he took one last look at what he was leaving behind and never looked back.

Then Mr. Vickers climbed back inside, closed off the exit, and that’s when the entire colony erupted in a chorus of cheers.

* * *


Later on, after the harmonious celebration of the Baker family’s departure, I sought out May, her husband Ed, Grace, my mother, father, and Frankie. The secrets I was holding in were weighing heavily on me for the last few days. And now, I knew that I needed to tell them all exactly what I’d learned about a man named Mark Baker.

Huddled together in the tiny infirmary, I stood in front of them, all of their eyes on me as I cleared my throat.

“What is this about, honey?” my mother asked. Her eyes zoomed in on my fingers as I played with them. I was always fidgety when I was nervous and my mother could always tell. She’d say it was her “motherly intuition.” I’d say it was because she always kept me under tight wraps.

“There are some things that I need to tell you guys,” I began, “That’s why I called all of you in here.” I faced the Vickers family and let out a strenuous sigh. “Monica is dead.” I knew everyone assumed she might have been, but they were never certain.

When a person disappears, even though its most likely that they’re dead, people, especially family hope that they aren’t. Grace glared at me. “Is this some kind of joke?”

I didn’t know how to take Grace’s tone. She was my best friend. Why the snarky tone? Wasn’t she supposed to trust me?

“It’s not a joke,” I scoffed. “I would never joke about something like that.”

May’s eyes were watering up. “How do you know, Georgie?” she asked. At that point Ed grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I overheard a conversation between Mr. Baker and Mr. Martin. Mr. Baker is an evil, evil man and he had this plan that started with Monica.” I continued on with my story, trying as hard as I could not to look at their faces. Every now and then, I’d catch a glimpse of Grace who was sobbing or May who was hysterical, burying her head into Ed’s shirt. Ed was doing his best to stay strong, but even he was having a hard time.

Then I went into the next portion of the story. “Supposedly, every kid in the colony has a censor that has been imbedded in their brain.” Grace and Frankie glanced at each other with funny looks on their faces. My mother’s mouth dropped open and my father was so angry, I could hear him grinding his teeth.

May stood up. All the color had drained from her face but she had stopped crying, for now. I knew that once the Vickers family was in the safety of their quarters, they wouldn’t have to try and hold it back. They could cry out every tear in their bodies for Monica. “Well,” said May. “There is only one way for us to find out about these censors.” She patted the metal table next to her. “Grace, honey…”

Grace cut her off. “You don’t have to tell me twice. If there is some censor in my head, I want it out!”

We all watched intensely as Grace laid down on the table. May moved toward her, a long needle in her hand. Then she inserted the needle into the top of Grace’s head. Grace winced as the needle went in and let out a woozy sigh when it came out. May placed her hand on Grace’s arm. “You okay, sweetie?”

Grace smiled. “I’m fine. You think that having a mother as my doctor would make me used to this kind of stuff by now.” Soft laughter echoed throughout the room as May palmed a scalpel.

Moving closer, May pressed the scalpel against the top of Grace’s forehead just behind her hairline and slid it across her flesh. I trusted Owen. He told me that all of the children in the colony had censors in their heads. So if it turned out that Grace didn’t have one, he’d have a lot of explaining to do. And that was going to be pretty hard information for me to get when I didn’t know if I would ever see him again.

May grunted, fishing around in Grace’s skin for a moment, then she pulled out a tiny, rectangular, translucent object with a serial number and a barcode on it. She lifted it high in the air, everyone’s eyes transfixed on it. “Oh my God,” May gasped.

Then, all of their eyes were on me. I shrugged. “I told you.”


Chapter 22: Know Thy Enemy


He went forth conquering, and to conquer.

    
~ Revelation 6:2


In the days that passed, life in the colony resumed as normal. Except for the fact that May was in the infirmary, now busier than ever. Shortly after she removed Grace’s and Frankie’s censors, the other parents in the colony wanted all of their children checked for them too. And every single kid had them, just like Owen said.

When he first told me about them, I couldn’t figure out how I’d given Mr. Baker the opportunity to implant that censor into my head but after talking with Grace and a few others, I came to the conclusion that there were moments where I’d gone to the infirmary and couldn’t remember what happened.

May had told us when they were first setting the infirmary up, there were times where Mr. Baker would help her out, and she would often leave him alone with the patients. Nobody could blame her. May was only one person, and sometimes when she was backed up, she needed the extra help. And at the time, none of the colonists would have figured Mr. Baker for what he really was…

A monster.

Mr. Martin and Mr. Edwards were kicked out of the council. Even though they were in cahoots with Mr. Baker, my father didn’t see the point in casting them out of the colony completely. They were not the ringleaders, they were the followers, and he said it was punishment enough that they would not be included in any group decisions the council members made regarding the colony.

Then, there was Colin. Our relationship would never be the same. There were times where he tried to talk to me. I assumed he was trying to make amends for he’d done, but I could never get past the fact, that left me out in the middle of a barren earth, with cannibals, to die. All because he wanted to please his father, Mr. Edwards, and Mr. Baker.

Sometimes, I’d stare at him the way I used to. I expected to get that same feeling—like my insides were on fire, but it never came back. And I’d catch him looking at me too with a tortured longing look in his eyes. A look that told me he regretted the day he left me to die.

I couldn’t trust him anymore and I didn’t think that the trust I used to have for him would ever return. Once a person breaks that bond, it’s broken forever—like a man or woman who cheats on a spouse. When people betrayed one another, how could they come back from that? How could they look each other in the eye and find what they once had? It would be difficult and maybe even impossible.

A candle light vigil was held for Monica. The entire colony gathered around, sang songs, and talked about what a great person she was. It was extremely difficult for the Vickers family, because it was just like a funeral, and no one has an easy time with burying their kid. But, at the end of it, Grace and I talked and she said, “ I tried to keep the way I felt about her disappearance inside. I tried to put my best foot forward, but all I really needed was closure. I never knew what happened so I couldn’t move on.” She went on. “We were always waiting for the day when she would come home. And we never knew when that would be so it’s like waiting and waiting and waiting for something that’s never going to come. At least now we can say, yes she died, we loved her so much and will think of her always, but now, we can move forward, because we’re not constantly wondering what if?”

It wasn’t until it was late at night, when I was alone with my own thoughts that I thought of Owen. Owen, and his violet eyes. Not to mention his smile that I loved somuch. I wondered where he was on his journey. Also, if the Baker family had caught up with him. Lastly, I wished that there was a way for me to communicate with him. I wanted to know more about the place that was untouched by The Great Famine, if he’d made it there, or if it really existed for that much.

The Great Famine was a global killer, even more than the asteroid that led us to the point where our race was starving to death. If there was a safe haven, out there somewhere, well, that seemed too good to be true. During these dire times, too good to be true didn’t exist.

There was one secret that Owen told me that I kept. I didn’t tell anybody about the hidden room above Mr. Baker’s old chambers. That was my place. A place where I could go and be alone, think of Owen, and forget about everything.

Now it was bare, all the television screens had been ripped down, the control panel dismantled. It was just a big empty room, but I didn’t mind. I loved how when I laid my face against the cold, black marble floor, it reminded me of winter. The way the frigid air used to sting my cheeks when I was outside. The first snowfall. Ice skating. Winter was my favorite season and I hadn’t experienced it in years.

The secret room brought a sense of adventure to me. There were so many other compartments that I hadn’t had the opportunity to see the last time I was here, aside from the closet Owen locked me in. There was a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, even a sitting room.

While examining the kitchen, I went through every cupboard. I wasn’t really looking for anything because I knew if there was ever any food in the cupboards it was probably long gone by now. Then, I recalled Mr. Baker’s conversation with Owen, about Mr. Baker giving Owen some of our food, so I knew the possibility of food not being in the cupboard was high.

Closing my eyes, I yanked open the last cupboard door, hoping to give myself a surprise. “AHA!” My eyes shot open and what was behind the door definitely surprised me. Three kisses, stacked in a pyramid, their silver wrappers twinkling. Chocolate!

Chocolate was like an illegal drug now. Nobody could find it anywhere. And if someone did, they hid it because any survivor would kill for a piece of chocolate.

Sliding the kisses aside, I noticed a tattered piece of paper underneath. Another note! It had to be from Owen! Delighted, I snatched the paper from the cupboard and smiled. Finding anything from him at all made me feel like he was still around and never left.


Georgina,

I left you these because when I found them, I thought they were sweet, like you.

    
O.


My heart fluttered and I stuffed the note in my pocket. Then, I grabbed the kisses, shoved two in my pocket with the note and unwrapped the first one. I didn’t even care if it was white, flaky or stale. Chocolate was chocolate. And it was a luxury that I hadn’t been able to consume since I was fourteen.

Staring at the little blob of sugary splendor, I inhaled deeply. It smelled fresh. The mixture of cocoa, milk, and sugar tickled my taste buds and I hadn’t even plopped it into my mouth yet. I wanted to savor the candy. I didn’t want to be greedy and gobble it up all at once but, I couldn’t help it. I shoved it into my mouth as the milky chocolate melted against my tongue and dripped down my throat.

Sucking on the chocolate, I enjoyed every last bit of it, until it was no bigger than a raisin and I finally chewed it up. Touching my pocket, I thought about giving one to Frankie. She would be so excited when she saw the candy. I could already see her face lighting up in my mind. But giving the chocolate to Frankie meant that she would probably tell somebody and then people would come to me asking where I got it. And that would open up a whole new can of worms because then I’d have to tell someone about my hiding place and that was something I wasn’t willing to give up or share.

That’s when I had a genius idea. Frankie was only nine when the asteroid hit. To be in a situation like that at such a young age can be devastating. Fourteen was young too, but I got to do a lot of things that Frankie would never be able to do. I went to school dances, traveled, and the list went on. Frankie missed out on her childhood and had to grow up really fast. So, I thought about how happy she’d be finding the piece of chocolate and came to a decision that I would hide the chocolate kiss somewhere in her things, so that she’d think she found it on her own.Entering my room, I remained as still as possible, listening for any sound or movement. I waited.

After seconds of silence, I tiptoed over to the nightstand, next to Frankie’s bed, quietly opened the drawer, placed the kiss on top of a notebook, and closed the drawer. Then, I removed the rest of the items in my pocket and wrapped them up in the letter Owen gave me and tucked them safely under my cot.

At dinner, I plopped down next to Grace as our plates were being distributed. “I came to your room today,” she commented. “You weren’t there. Where did you go?”

I took my plate and passed the rest down to the next person. “Oh,” I answered quickly. “I was around. Did you need something?”

She shrugged. “I just wanted to see if you wanted to go to the rec after dinner. Maybe we could play checkers or something.”

I smiled. “Definitely. That sounds fun.” Honestly, it sounded boring. With the amount of action that had taken place in the last couple weeks, returning to normal every day colony life was a major adjustment.

Colin sat down across from us, with Molly Edwards. “What’s up, girls?”

“Nothing,” I replied. My answer was short yet cordial. I never elaborated or struck up a conversation with him, but I simply remained polite to save myself from any future arguments.

“Same here,” said Grace. “How about with you?”Grace didn’t stay mad at Colin for long. He explained to her that he had nothing to do with Monica’s disappearance. He also said that Mr. Baker had formed that plan on his own, before he got his father and Mr. Edwards involved.

He smirked. “Not too much.” After that he turned his attention to Molly and proceeded to flirt with her in front of me.

Occasionally, I’d catch him, out of the corner of my eye, trying to sneak a peek at me without seeming too obvious. He was about as obvious as a T-Rex watching a field full of brontosauruses. I knew exactly what he was trying to do. And I knew for sure that the jealousy I’d once felt when I watched him flirt with Molly Edwards before would never return again.

In the rec, I sat across from Grace on the dirt floor, with a stern face, trying to decipher my next move. Grace glanced at the checkerboard, then back up at me. “You could move there.” She pointed to an empty red square.

“Don’t help me!” I scolded. She was already annihilating me, and had way too many pieces left on the board.

“I’m just trying to help,” she stated.

“It would help me if your pieces just magically disappeared,” I joked. And we shared a laugh.

Getting back to my move, I started to slide my piece forward. Grace shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she warned.

I grinned. “You’re not me.”

The truth was, I was tired of playing. I just wanted to go back to my room, lie down on my cot and relax. So, I continued moving my piece forward, knowing that as soon as I took my hand off of it, Grace was going to jump me four times and the game would be over.

Grace’s eyes sparkled as she picked up one of her pieces. “One. Two. Three. Four!” She made her move, swiped all of my pieces off of the board and snapped her fingers. “I win!”

“Darn it,” I whined with a bit of anguish in my voice, trying to sound believable.

“Maybe next time, eh, Georgie,” Grace teased.

“That’s what you say every time.”

* * *


On my way to my room, Frankie met up with me in the hall. “Where were you?” She looked around the hall warily.

“Getting my ass kicked in checkers by Grace.”

“Don’t swear,” she said.

“Sorry,” I corrected myself. “Getting my “butt” kicked in checkers.”

Frankie stopped mid-step in the middle of the hallway and grabbed me by the arm. I watched her intensely as she stifled a look around the hall. She seemed worried. Frankie was rarely ever like that so I was instantly concerned. “Is there something wrong?” I patted her shoulder gently and she faced me.

“Come with me,” she demanded and drug me down the hall to our room. “Someone has been in my things.”

“What?”

Inside, I flopped backward on my cot when it dawned on me that she found the kiss that I’d put in her drawer.

Propping myself up with my elbow, I kept my eyes on her as she rooted through her drawer. Then, Frankie removed the kiss and brought it over to over to me. “It’s chocolate,” she said. “I don’t know how it got in my drawer because it wasn’t in there yesterday.”

“Chocolate,” I said in a hushed voice. Then, I peered around the room cautiously, playing along. “If I were you, I’d eat it before anybody can catch you with it.”

Frankie focused on the shiny silver wrapping. “It would be terrible if I let it go to waste. I didn’t even think chocolate existed anymore.”

“You shouldn’t waste it,” I told her. “Do you know how many people down here would fight you for that piece of candy?”

She closed her fingers around the kiss and looked at me solemnly. “You’re not going to tell anybody are you?”

I pretended to zip my lips. “You have my word. I won’t utter a peep.”

The crinkling sound of the wrapper filled the quiet room and Frankie marveled at the chocolate in her hand. She held it out to me. “Do you want to share it?”

The gesture made me beam, a gleeful feeling writhed in my veins. Even though she had a big mouth, Frankie really was the kindest, most generous little girl, and she had a bigger heart than most adults.

I shook my head. “You enjoy it. Maybe one day, I’ll find my own chocolate kiss.”

“Are you sure, Georgie? Isn’t it rude if I eat it in front of you and don’t offer you any?”

“No. Besides, I don’t want any.”

Slowly, Frankie rested the chocolate against her lips. She moved her mouth, shot her tongue out and pushed the kiss back. It rested against her tongue and I smiled as tears formed in her eyes. “This was one of the best days of my new life,” she said through her mouthful.

She chewed the chocolate and brushed her tongue against her lips for a second time as I lifted my arms and she buried her head in my shoulder. Never in a million years did I think that one, single, solitary piece of chocolate could have that much of a lasting effect on a twelve year old. In the times that we were living in, it was those simple things like a piece of chocolate that could make your entire year or as Frankie said, “one of the best days of my new life.” And I was more than thrilled to be the one that gave her one of those days.

* * *


That night, I agreed to let Frankie sleep with me and after an hour of her kicking me, rolling over, elbowing me in the gut, and shouting I knew that I’d made a mistake in allowing it.

“Ouch!” I yelped as she kicked me in the shin for the fourth time. Finally, I’d had enough of sharing a cot with her and moved from mine over to hers.

Lying in Frankie’s bed, I rolled over onto my side and shut my eyes. I moved the pillow, adjusting it beneath my head. When I was comfortable, I snuggled under the blanket as a gust of wind whipped through my hair.

The wind continued blowing and I picked up my head as the cool breeze washed over my face. When you didn’t have the wind anymore, you forgot how good it could feel when it tousled your hair on a humid summer day. I took the wind for granted.

Something else I didn’t appreciate while I had it. I was always complaining about the forceful gusts. “It blew my skirt up, messed up my hair,” were most of my common complaints.

But I didn’t have the wind anymore….

It never whipped through the halls of our underground world. So how was it that it was blowing now?

My eyes flew open and I bolted from Frankie’s bed. I stood at the edge of the hall, staring up at the entrance/exit to my home.

Another gust of wind carried down the hall and blew my hair into my face. I pushed my hair away from my face, opened my mouth and let out the loudest, piercing scream I had ever let out in my life.

One-by-one, colonists rushed out of their quarters, stopping right behind me, frozen in fear as six hungry cannibals breached the safety of our underground world and started descending down the rope ladder.


Chapter 23: Shattered


Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!

    
~ Numbers 23:10


Five-year-old Ruby Martin, Colin’s kid sister waddled up next to me. Her bottom lip was quivering and then she started wailing. Annie, her mother, sprinted forward, scooping Ruby up into her arms and ran to the back of the hall. Frankie woke up, peeked out from our room and ran down the hall to our mother.

My father, the council members, and boys old enough to fight charged forward as the first cannibal hit the ground. The cannibal hissed, twirling a makeshift machete made from aluminum scraps. The cannibals had weapons, dangerous weapons. We were unarmed and I feared that none of the men in the colony would leave this battle alive.

All of the women and children had retreated to the mess hall. I faced my father, watching in horror as he stormed toward a second cannibal, carrying only a large wooden pole. “No, Dad!” I screamed and rushed toward him. The cannibal had a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it and he brought the bat down as my father dodged it.

My father locked eyes with me for a split second. The sound of battle and the people screaming drowned out the sound of his voice. “Get out of here!” he yelled as the cannibal lifted the bat again.

“What?

“Get out!” The bat came down again, blasting my father’s foot.

I bent down reaching for his foot as tears swelled up in my eyes. “No, Dad! You’re hurt!”

He grimaced and twisted himself around, swatting at me. “Get out of here! Now!” he screamed. “I can’t fight if I’m too worried about you. Go find your mother!”

I was distracting him. I wouldn’t be any use to anybody if I was just standing out there screaming.

Bolting down the hall, I winced at the sound of one of the men screaming, one of the most gut-wrenching screams I had ever heard in my life. Tears brimmed in my eyes. I couldn’t look back to see who it was. If it was my father, I would have turned around, ran straight for the cannibal who hurt him and got myself killed.

No, I had to push forward, because I had bigger plans in store for the people of this colony.

In that moment, I knew that I could save everyone. I still had my secret place. The one place I vowed to never tell anybody about. I kept it a secret for my own selfish reasons. And now was not the time for me to be selfish. We were on the verge of losing everything, our loved ones, our home, and most of all, our lives.

I skidded to a stop in the mess hall as my mother came to my side and wrapped me in one arm, Frankie in the other. “My babies,” she sniffled, trying to suck back the tears. “I love you so much.”

Looking around the room, I noticed all the women were just sitting there, hugging their children while the men from our colony were out front, fighting, maybe even dying. That’s when I decided to take charge. “Guys!” I shouted. “Everybody listen up!” Every eye in the room was on me. “I have a place where we will all be safe.”

My mother furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

“Mom, now isn’t the time for all the questions!” I snapped. “You have to trust me!” Facing all of the women, I cupped my hands around my mouth. “I need all the mothers to go back to their quarters and bring anything they can grab! Get the food, blankets pillows, clothes, and meet me in the Baker’s old quarters!” I glanced at May, who was next to my mother, holding on to a frightened Grace. “Can you bring some medical supplies just in case?” May nodded in reply. “Ladies, whatever you do, do not look at the end of the hall.” I knew what would happen if they did. One look at their husbands, or sons and they would fall apart. That couldn’t happen right now. We needed to be strong. We needed to be organized or none of this would work. “The children need to come with me.”

Frankie clutched on to my arm. “I’m so scared, Georgie,” she whispered, in between sobs.

“Frankie, I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear.”The children filed into a line as the mothers took off. I guided them through the mess hall doors, telling them, “Look at the walls,” as we passed our fathers and brothers fighting. The sounds of clinking metal and distorted grunts hung in the air and it took every ounce of courage inside of me for me to stay calm and focused.

In the Baker’s chambers, I led the children through the closet, up the hidden ramps, up the metal ladder, and finally through the hatch doors. Once I made sure that everyone was safe and accounted for, I grabbed Grace by the arm. “Make sure they all stay here,” I commanded. “Leave the hatch open and only close if I tell you to.”

Grace’s eyes were filled with panic. “Where are you going?”

“To get our mothers.”

I slid down the ladder, raced down the ramps, and arrived to a room full of mothers. Most of them were out of breath and hysterical, but they had all done what I asked, carrying armfuls of food, blanket clothing, etc. “Follow me!”

During my second trip I was starting to get winded. I sucked in more air and breathed harder, trying to push through. At the end of the metal ladder, I helped each woman climb up until I came to last one: May. Panicked, I spun around in a circle. My mother wasn’t there. “May!” I shouted as she was halfway up the ladder. “Where’s my Mom?”

May looked over her shoulder. “She was right behind me, I swear.”

I took off running and shouted over my shoulder, “I’ll be right back. Leave the hatch open!”

When I reached the Baker’s quarters my mother was nowhere to be found. “Mom!” I shrieked. “Mom!” No answer. She wasn’t anywhere close to me or she would have heard me.

Sprinting out of the room, I charged down the hall, not focusing on anyone who was fighting, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed bodies on the floor. I couldn’t tell whether they were cannibals or the men from the colony and I couldn’t make myself look. “Mom!” I screamed. “Mom!”

Finally, I told myself that I had to look. She might have been an accidental casualty and I had to know for sure. A million questions were running through my mind as I prepared myself for the worst. What would I tell Frankie? She was already so scared. How could I go back to her and tell her that something bad happened? That’s when I came to halt. That’s when I stopped breathing. That’s when I saw my mother, clutching my father’s lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably. And that was when I saw the cannibal with the makeshift machete, hovering over her, preparing to decapitate her.

“MOOOOOMMM!” I screamed so loud, I swore that the whole room shook and everything that took place after that seemed to happen in slow motion.

My mother lifted her head and met my gaze, her eyes rimmed in red and wide with fear. She contorted her body slightly and glanced over her shoulder and the tip of the machete ripped into the entire right side of her body from her shoulder to her hip.

Her mouth dropped open, she faced me, and blew me a kiss. I ran forward pumping my legs as hard as I could. “No, Mom! Don’t!”She smiled weakly and mouthed, “I love you.” That was when her body slumped over and hit the ground with a thud.

Shooting pains went through my heart. Hunching over, I gasped for air as rage and sorrow consumed me. I screamed out in agony. My face was rippled with hysteria and I hugged my chest as I hit my knees “No! No! No!” This had to be a dream. I was having another nightmare. That was it. Any second I would wake up and my mother would tell me that it was time for breakfast.

Pinching myself hard, the sad reality set in; Both of my parents were dead. I’d lost both of my parents. Frankie and I were now orphans—lost and alone.

Then, I heard a voice squeal behind me. “Georgie, where’s mommy?”

“Frankie!” I shouted. “Why aren’t you with the other kids?” She never listened. “I told you not to leave!”

“I had to come find you and mommy. Where is she?”

My gaze shifted between Frankie and the tall, burly cannibal barreling down the hall, headed straight for me. “Go back!” I shrieked. “Frankie, go back!”

She wasn’t going to move. I knew her too well. But if I moved and ran after her, I would lead the cannibal straight to the women and children. I was torn, unsure of which decision might be the best, so I went with my gut.

Getting to my feet, I zoomed toward Frankie, clasped my fingers around her wrist and took off running for the old Baker quarters. She was restless, dragging her feet as sobs crept out of her harder and faster. “Where’s mommy?”

In a bind, I did the best I could and came up with something quickly. “I’m not sure. Don’t worry. We’ll find her later.”

The cannibal behind us pounded his feet against the concrete walkway. Every time they smacked down against the cement, they reminded me of the slow, soft beating of a drum.

Racing through the closet, up the corner, and around the ramps, I kept a tight grip on Frankie’s wrist. She couldn’t keep up with me and I was practically dragging her. “You’re hurting me!” she whined, her sobs catching in her throat. I ignored her complaints and kept going.

Frankie’s life was in my hands. With both of our parents dead, I was her sole guardian. And if all we had left was each other, I wasn’t about to let either one of us be slaughtered.

At the end of the metal ladder, I helped Frankie up first. The hatch was still open and I kept my hand on Frankie’s back as she climbed. “Are you coming?” she whimpered.

“I’m right behind you,” I guaranteed.

May hung her arms down through the opening, gripped both of Frankie’s arms by the wrists and hoisted her up. Once Frankie was safely in the room, and out of the way, May extended her arms a second time. “All right, Georgie, your turn.” I ascended up the ladder as the sound of footsteps closed in on me. May glanced past me and her eyes shot open wide. “Whatever you do, Georgie, don’t look down,” May warned me.

The cannibal had finally caught up to me. And right before I reached the top of the ladder, I could feel his weight as he followed me. May was starting to panic. Her hands were shaking and her eyes were darting around the room. Stupid. I was so stupid for leading him here. But the only thing I could think of at the time was Frankie and how I had to save her.

Maybe it would have been smart for both of us to perish, we could join our parents and live happy in the afterlife, if there even was one. But I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t just let her and myself die. In this case, dying was giving up. And giving up was a cowardly thing to do.

As I climbed faster, so did the cannibal. May had one wrist and I swung my other hand around. She reached for it, fingers inching closer but the cannibal grabbed my ankle and started yanking on it. “Noooo!” I cried, trying to hang on. May tried to get a firm grasp, but my palms were sweaty and her fingers were trembling.

“Hang on!” she cried.

Every time I tried to pull myself up, my hands slipped further from hers. I kicked my legs, feeling my foot connect with the cannibal’s jaw. The loud echo of a body slamming into the dirt filled the room. But it was too late. I’d lost my footing and May had lost her grip.

My last two fingers slipped from her hands. “No!” May cried, desperation in her tone. Then I fell backwards, the full twelve feet, and my back smacked into the hard floor, as I landed right at the cannibals feet.

The wind was knocked out of my lungs and I gasped for air in huge gulps. “Uhhhh,” I moaned. Every bone in my ribcage throbbed and I struggled to sit up. My attention averted to the cannibal, who was stirring. I felt like a thief thrown into a pit of scorpions—more likely to be stung than escape.

On my feet, I rushed to the ladder. Frankie peered down from the opening her cheeks bright red, more tears flowing from her eyes. “Behind you!” she wailed. I spun around and the cannibal’s hand swiped at my shins and knocked my feet out from under me. Rolling onto my stomach, I pushed myself up with my arms as the cannibal inched closer.

Frankie started shrieking and May tried to pull her away from the opening. During that second I made a rash decision. “Close the hatch!” I shouted at May.

Frankie went berserk. “No, Georgie! No!”

My eyes centered on the machete that was released from the cannibals grasp when I kicked him in the jaw and he tumbled to the ground. If I could get to that, I could save myself and all of the women and children. But that wasn’t going to work if I could see Frankie.

I rolled on the floor, lunged for the machete, and felt the jagged edges cutting into my fingers as I swiped it from the floor.

When I stood, the cannibal’s attention wasn’t on me anymore. He was climbing up the ladder. I stared at May, ferocity in my eyes, and shouted, “Close the fucking hatch!” It wasn’t like me to speak disrespectfully to an adult like that but, seeing that cannibal, inching closer and closer to my sister, the sister I loved, cherished, and would kill to protect, the only family that I had left, twisted the fury in the pit of my stomach and sent it plummeting through every muscle in my body.

Clenching the knife, I let out my battle cry as May closed the hatch door—while Frankie tried to push her away. “Georgie, don’t leave me!”

But May shoved her aside. “Your sister knows what’s she’s doing.”

“Georgie, please don’t leave me!” That was the last thing I heard from Frankie because May had closed the hatch and a clicking sound rang out as she bolted it shut.

Releasing his grip on the ladder, the cannibal jumped to the ground, landing steadily on both feet. I spun toward him, wielding the machete horizontally, and swiped it across his stomach. He snarled at me, his white glazed over, glossy eyes fueled with anger. He huffed and ran his finger across his bloody abdomen, hopped to his feet, and lunged for me. I ducked and he stumbled forward as I stuck my leg out and tripped him. He went face first into the floor.

Retreating, I watched in shock as he picked himself up off the ground. He was strong, too strong. I was under the impression that most cannibals were weak; apparently, I had been misinformed.

He used the wall and steadied himself, then turned to me sneering, as he charged. I ducked again but this time he caught on and slapped the machete out of my hand. The machete cut into his palm and it sprayed all over my face, blinding me.

Squinting, I turned to my side, blinking several times. The blood that touched my pupils made my eyes sting and tears dripped on to the floor. Before I could react, the cannibal hovered above me, his large, calloused hand outstretched, going straight for my neck.

I tried moving away but he was quick. He clasped his hand around my neck and choke slammed me into the ground. My arms were flailing, my mid-section squirming, and I kicked my legs upward, hitting him repeatedly in the back. He kept me pinned hard to the ground, and I blanched as some of his spit drizzled on to my face.

Thrusting my hips, I tried to move him, even the slightest bit, to give myself some leeway, but he was heavy. Way too heavy. He had to be two hundred and fifty pounds at least. The crimson red blood from his palm flowed on to my shirt and it reeked.

He lifted his arms over his head and reached for the machete. His body odor filled my nostrils and I started gagging. I turned my head to the side and saw the shadow of the machete against the dirt wall. I was going to die. I fought and ultimately lost, and this was the end of the road for me.

Closing my eyes, I thought about Frankie, my parents, and Owen. I thought about everything I’d done in my life and how I had no regrets. For the first fourteen years of my life, I’d fully lived, and for the last two, I lived restricted. Even living restricted was a gift. There I was living, eating, and breathing, while the rest of the world was plagued by The Great Famine.

And with those thoughts in mind, I exhaled slowly and prayed for a quick and merciful death.


Chapter 24: The War Rages On


It is nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow.

    
~ Lamentations 1:11


“ARGHHHHH!” Another deep voice bounced off the walls. Then I felt something warm splatter across my face.I shrieked and swiped at the liquid, smearing it in.

My eyes shot open as Owen, his violet eyes filled with determination, lifted the baseball bat with the nail spikes out of the cannibal’s head. The burly, human flesh eater’s eyes rolled back into his skull, and he fell over to the side of me.

I gasped, breathless as I scrambled backwards. “Owen.”

He smiled weakly, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I told you I’d come back for you.” He tucked the end of the bat under his arm. “Now, come on, we have to go.”

“Go,” I repeated, once I was on my feet. “Go where?”

He glanced at me solemnly. “To the untouched place.”

“Have you been there already? It’s true, then?”

“No, I haven’t been there yet,” he admitted. “I stopped to come back for you.”

“Is that where the Bakers are going?”

Owen eye’s circled the room. “No. Listen, I’ll explain everything on the way but we have to leave, right now!”

“I’m not going anywhere without my sister! And there are other survivors!” I pointed to the hatch above me. “I can’t just leave them.”

Owen shook his head and started for me. “I know you’re a thoughtful and caring person, and I admire that about you, but we can’t take the survivors with us. We can take your sister and that’s about it. There are more cannibals headed this way and if we don’t leave right now, we will all die.”

At that moment, Mr. Vickers, Mr. Martin, and Mr. Edwards stomped up the last ramp. They hunched over, sucking in air. Mr. Vickers lifted his head. “Are the women and children safe?”

I nodded to the hatch. “They are.” I stared at the three men before me. “Where’s Colin?”

Seconds later, Colin came sprinting up the ramp. “There are about four more that will be here any minute,”he yelled in between breaths.

Climbing the ladder quickly, I pounded on the hatch. “Open it! We have survivors!” The hatch door flung open as I climbed down the ladder. Then the remaining surviving men climbed up the ladder and were greeted by their sobbing wives and children. Cries of joy, mixed with cries of pain, rumbled throughout the entire room. Aside from my parents, even more people had died. Dylan Edwards, a boy my age, had met his demise by the same cannibal who tried to kill me. His mother’s shrieks of agony, carried down the ladder and stabbed me right in the heart.

Owen touched my arm. “We have to go, now!”

I faced Colin. “Can you get me Frankie please?”

Colin raced up the ladder and a minute later came back down with Frankie in his arms. “Where are you going?” he asked.

He released Frankie, and she buried her face in my chest. “To a place that’s supposed to be untouched by The Great Famine.”

His mouth dropped open. “You’re lying.”

Owen stepped forward, narrowing his eyes. “No, we’re not.”

Colin glanced at the open hatch door then back at Owen. “I’m coming with you.”

“Nobody invited you,” Owen snapped.

“Invited or not, I’m going,” Colin growled. “So you might as well save yourself the argument.”

“Me too,” shouted Grace as she climbed down the ladder.Owen slapped his hands to his side, frustrated. “All of you cannot go!”

“Listen,” I shouted as all eyes centered on me. “We can’t stand around and argue about this anymore! Either we all go or none of us go because if we stand here any longer and debate about it, the cannibals will storm in here, eat us, and the people above!”

“Fine,” Owen grumbled, defeated. “Let’s grab what we can and get the hell out of here.”

Colin grabbed Frankie from me, lifted her over hisshoulder, then dashed down the first ramp. Owen followed, shouting at Colin, “We need to search every room for what we can and we have to do it fast!”

Grace and I stood below the hatch as May came into our view. “Mom,” said Grace. “I love you and I’ll be back!”

May smiled, tearing up and tossed Grace a bag. “I love you too, honey.” Then she turned to me. “Keep her safe, Georgie,” she sniffled.

“I’ll do my best,” I promised.

Then May blew us both kisses and closed the hatch.

* * *


Frantic, Grace and I split up and went to both of our family’s quarters. I ransacked my parents’ room first, tearing through all of their things, taking what I needed and tossing aside what I didn’t. I stopped briefly, staring at a picture of them on their wedding day. My mother was laughing and my father grinned as his lips moved in close to her cheek.

A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed, fighting the

tears. I snatched the picture from the dresser, folded it up, and slid it into my back pocket. That’s how I wanted to remember my parents—happy, loving, and devoted to one another. Then I shed a tear, had a moment of silence for them, and kept on moving.

In the hall, I met up with Grace, Colin, who still had Frankie, and Owen. I salvaged two potato sacks, one full of vegetables and the other full of miscellaneous items.

Grace had gathered some canteens of water and a pillow case full of medical supplies. Colin and Frankie had some items from my room. And Owen had collected all of the weapons from the deceased cannibals.

“Let’s go!” Owen shouted.

While Owen led the group over to the rope ladder, my eyes wandered over to spot where my parents bodies lied and they were gone. At least one or two of the cannibals had to of survived and taken the bodies. I was thankful for that. I still had to tell Frankie what happened to them and now didn’t seem like the best time to do so.

My cheeks felt warm and tears flowed from my eyes. An empty feeling rested in my stomach and I gasped for air. I was an orphan. Frankie and I were both orphans. When the reality set in, I fell apart. Hitting my knees, I curled up into a ball, sobbing uncontrollably. I closed my eyes and saw my mother. She was standing in front of our house, before the asteroid, watering her tomato plants as I walked down the porch steps. “Bye, Georgie. Have a good day at school.”

I lingered on the driveway. “Bye mom.”

She smiled, her white teeth gleaming in the shadow of her hat. She slide her forearm across her head, brushing back her sandy, blonde hair, and wiping a few beads of sweat away. “Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Then I thought of my father, with his proud childish smile and the way he used to playfully mess up my hair when I’d done something good. Like getting a good report card. “Good job, kiddo,” he’d say as I stood there giggling.

I choked on my sobs. I’d never be able to tell either one of them that I loved them ever again. My memories of them that was all I had left. And my memories weren’t good enough.

I felt like there was a huge gaping hole in my heart. A hole that I knew would never close. An annoying repetitive pain circulated through my lungs and I felt like I was being stung by a hundred bumblebees. I sat up, still sobbing and hugged my chest. “My parents,” I cried, looking at the small blood spots on the concrete.

Owen’s hands slid over my shoulder and he whispered in my ear, “Georgina, we have to go.”

“I can’t,” I mumbled. The spots of blood were all I could look at.

“We have to. The rest of the cannibals will be here any second.

I peered at Owen, with desperation in my eyes. “But my parents.”

“Would want you to get out of here and stay alive.”

Owen helped me up and led me to the ladder. He took both of my sacks out of my hands and I put both of my hands on the rope. One more look, all I wanted was to look at the spot where my parents died one more time.

I glanced over my shoulder for a moment and made a promise to myself. A promise that my parents wouldn’t be disappointed in what became of me. They’d be proud of what I’d accomplished. Proud that I watched over Frankie, with motherly intentions and proud that I survived outside of the colony.And lastly, they’d never be dead to me. Because I’d keep them alive forever, in my heart.

I didn’t know what the future had in store for me and the others. New earth was desolate, terrifying, and barren. A place where surprises lurked around every corner. A place that hated survivors and wasn’t satisfied until their bones lined the covered streets.

New earth reminded me of a monster we learned about mythology class, the Kraken. A massive beast that wasn’t satisfied until he defeated the Titans, and humanity.

New earth consumed people, just like the Kraken, but I knew one thing for certain, it would never consume me or anyone I cared about ever again.

I was strong. I was a survivor. And I would never, no matter how difficult it might have been, go down without a fight.

Owen placed his hand on my back and urged me up the ladder. “Come on.”

Then I climbed up the rope ladder, out of the hole, and out into a vast, dangerous world that could literally eat me alive.


Epilogue: Wasted


The earthly desert was quiet at night. The only visible light was the blazing fire in front of me. The fire snapped and crackled as it burned the fallen debris Owen gathered to make it.

The group decided that while everyone else slept, two of us would take turns and keep watch. I volunteered for the night shift. And so did Colin.

We hadn’t spoken to each other since we left the colony. I liked it that way. I didn’t have anything to say to him nor did I want to say anything to him.

When we fled the colony, he invited himself to come along on our journey to the untouched place. In the heat of the moment, there was too much going on and it hadn’t fully registered with me, that we’d be stuck together. At the time, I figured that we could use as many strong people as possible. Now I regretted being agreeable to him joining us.

We sat with our backs facing each other’s staring, out in opposite directions. Frankie laid at my feet and her soft breathing filled my ears. I brushed my fingertips along her forehead. “It’s just me and you, sis,” I whispered. She moaned and rolled over. I didn’t know how much I longer I should have waited to tell her about our parents. It had only been a few hours since their deaths. Tomorrow, I told myself. I’d tell her tomorrow.

My head whipped around when Colin spoke. “What did you say?” he asked with a low voice.

I glared at him and scowled. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

He looked down at the ground. “Oh.” He paused. “Georgie, listen.”

I cut him off. “Don’t even go there.”

His eyes burned into mine. “You don’t even know what I was going to say?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You were going to apologize, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

I harrumphed. “Well, you can save your breath because I don’t want to hear it.”

Closing my eyes, I saw myself again, on the ground screaming for him. My arms were outstretched as I clawed at the dirt and tears filled my eyes as I struggled to get away. Colin was ahead of me, still running, not even glancing back.I shuddered. If Colin thought that me forgiving him was going to be easy, he was out of his mind.


Coming Soon

PRIDE


Beauty is only skin deep.

YA Contemporary – August 30, 2011

At age fifteen, Angela Dunne was plucked out of the crowd at her local mall by modeling agent, Olivia Lennox.

After fighting her way to the top, Angela is catapulted into the world of magazine covers, photo shoots, and runway shows. She’s traveling the globe, modeling for the best designers, and living the life most girls her age could only dream of.

And it doesn’t take long for Angela’s rising stardom to go to her head. Being beautiful has become her obsession and her image is all she ever thinks about. Her family is ashamed of her. Friends don’t know her anymore. People in general can’t stand to be in the same room with her. The new Angela, finds pleasure in belittling those who aren’t as fortunate as her in the beauty department and treats those who aren’t up to her standards like they areinsignificant.

Suddenly, Angela’s modeling career comes to a halt after an accident backstage at a runway show. Now, Angela has to come to terms with the fact that she’s no longer beautiful on the outside. She’s a freak, a monster with a disfigured face. For someone who was once so beautiful on the outside but ugly on the inside, it’s up to Angela to dig deep down within herself and discover what the real meaning of beauty is.


Chapter 1: When I Grow Up


Tears spilled onto my cheeks as I bolted out of The Limited. I pushed my way through the crowd of people, my shoulder brushing against a woman to my left as I picked up speed. “Hey!” she shouted. “Watch where you’re going!”

I didn’t have time to apologize. My mother was gaining on me and the sound of her voice carried down the narrow, mall corridor, “Angela! You get back here this instant!”

I kept running and running. I stopped at the end of the corridor, hunching over to catch my breath. Again, my mother shouted, “Angela Marie Dunne!”

Right now, I didn’t want to be anywhere near her. First, she rushed me out of the house to go school shopping. Then, when I expressed interest in a pair of jeans I actually wanted, she humiliated me in front all the associates in the store.

“Seventy five dollars! Absolutely not!” I said, mocking her shrill high-pitched voice.

My mother caught up to me as I stalked toward the exit. “Angela!” she shouted.

I didn’t answer. I was too overwhelmed with emotion. I didn’t want to say something I would regret. She appeared next to me, keeping up with me. I never knew her short, chubby legs could go that fast. “You don’t need a seventy five dollar pair of jeans,” she stated, calmly.

She was the most frugal woman in the world, I swear. She didn’t even shop at the mall herself. Most of the time, my mother did shopping for her clothes at consignment shops. I had to admire that quality in her. She’d give up anything for herself if she felt like her kids needed something more.

At the moment, I noticed her examining me. She could see I was a loose cannon. That any given moment, I would snap at her. She was trying her hardest to reason with me. But, at that very second, I couldn’t be reasoned with.

I stopped mid-stride, trying to keep calm. “But everyone at school has jeans like that! You never let me wear anything cool!”


Coming Soon

A WHISPER TO A SCREAM

(The Sociopath Diaries 1)


Sometimes love… can be deadly.

YA Horror/Suspense/Romance- October 4,2011

Ellory Graham detested high school. She relished the fact that she was a rebel. A wild, carefree, type of girl. She basked in the glory of being the type of girl who stood up to authority. Unfortunately for her, her upfront, honest and bitchy nature always managed to land her in some kind of trouble.

Adam Jacobs was everything Ellory was not. Not only was he beautiful, but he was smart, artistic, and sweet. To almost every girl he seemed like the total package- that all around perfect guy. But in a town were nothing particularly interesting happens, and gossip seems like the only fun thing to do, sometimes those perfections become flaws. And it doesn’t take long for Ellory to find out,even Adam has secrets. But Adam’s secrets are the kind of secrets people die for…


Chapter One: High School


It didn’t take me long to come to the conclusion that high school sucks. Tedious. Repetitive. Social. Those three words summed up the way I felt about my school predominantly. Logan High, oh how I loathed the name. From the outside, it looked like your normal, everyday, high school. On the inside, well, that was a completely different story. I wouldn’t say I hated it all together, but it was something I didn’t want on my to-do list every day. Still, there I was, a senior, counting down the days to graduation. One hundred and eighty six days to go. Yeah, this was going to be a long year.

I sat at my desk, completely zoning out, waiting for class to begin when someone dug their text book into the corner of my back. I turned around annoyed. “What the hell?”

My face instantly relaxed when I saw it was my best friend, Wren. “Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” she chirped.

Wren’s parents went through some kind of weird bird obsession and that’s how she got her name. It was either Wren or Robin. She was glad they picked Wren. “At least it’s unique,” she’d say. I agreed with her. There weren’t very many Wren’s that I knew. Actually, she was the only Wren I knew.

Wren and I were a surprise pairing as far as friends went. She was the suck-up, I was the slacker. As in she got straight A’s and I got straight C’s. She also always looked too perfect, too put together. She brushed a strand of her golden, blonde, hair off of her shoulder. Today it was poker straight and she donned a little black headband that added to her Barbie doll image.

Perfection, when it came to the way I looked, was something I could never master. Wren reached up, smoothing down a piece of my unruly, naturally curly, hair. “Your hair was sticking up.” I shrugged. My hair had a mind of its own.

I hadn’t even realized I zoned off again until Wren tapped me on the head with her pen. “Well.”

I met her gaze. “Well, what?”

“What’s wrong with you today?” she asked, probing my eyes for answers.

“I just don’t want to be here.”

“Do you ever?”

“No.”

“Well then, suck it up. We don’t have much longer until graduation.”

Graduation, the word was music to my ears. I couldn’t wait to get out of this hell hole.


About the Author


Lauren Hammond knew from a young age that she was born to be a writer. After publishing her first novel in 2007, she then went on to write several screenplays and a few award winning poems. She aspires to be a positive role model for young people who have a pencil, a piece of paper, and a dream. Never give up on your dreams, you might wake up one day and regret not pursuing them. She currently serves as the Executive Literary Manager for ADA Management Group, has twelve novels slated for release between 2011 & 2012, and resides in Ohio.


Copyright


Copyright 2011 by Lauren Hammond. All rights reserved. Printed in the USA. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except for quotations written in articles or reviews.

For information contact Info@sbaddisonbooks.com or address S.B. Addison Books 32 Lincoln Ave. Niles, Ohio 44446

First Edition

Cover Design by: Joshua Longiaru

ISBN: 978-0-9838681-9-4

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, organizations, etc; are only used for authenticity purposes and are used ficticiously. All dialogue, incidents, and characters are drawn from the authors imagination and are not to be construed as real.