Authors: Dawn Husted
SAFE
Dawn Husted
Copyright © 2013 by Dawn Husted
Cover Photo by
© Jorgosphot 17441005 – Dreamstime.com
Edited
by Cynthia Shepp: http://www.cynthiashepp.com
All
rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any form
by
any means electronic or mechanical unless expressed in written permission of
the author, except in brief quotes in an article by a reviewer.
This
is a work of fiction.
The
names, places, and events herein are products of the author’s imagination.
To
learn about the book SAFE visit
http://dawnhusted.weebly.com
SAFE 1
st
electronic ed.
Kindle Version
Summary:
Novel – 56000 words
Post-apocalypse;
Penelope Evans is eighteen, living in the Colony along with her family and
other survivors. She finishes a day in the laboratory when her identification
card begins flashing. This flash starts an upheaval of events leading further
from her normality and towards the epic truth.
James Garak attends the Academy where he works on achieving a higher rank.
Nobody ever expects Penelope and James’ relationship to last long. A year
later, they’re still together.
But when they are forced to run, Penelope’s world turns upside down as she
discovers the truth that changes her life forever.
With lives at stake and guards on their trail, will they make it to safety?
Will the dishonest lies behind the island’s bureaucracy shatter her existence
or give her the drive to find a sister she never knew existed?
This
is for the three people most special in my life
—
James, Daisy and Jacob.
Love
You
Today was our anniversary and my eighteenth
birthday. When I woke up this morning, a folded-up letter flapped in the breeze
against my window, somehow, managing to hang on from underneath the glass. A scribbled
message jumpstarted my blood and I couldn’t help but smile.
Meet
me when the sun sets. You know the place. - James
A
couple days had passed since James and I saw each other. After we graduated last
year, he went straight into the Academy and I obtained my job at the lab. Our
schedules seem to keep us apart most of the time. Don’t get me wrong—I was more
than pleased to find out he’d been promoted immediately upon training, surpassing
all the tests with excellence. James outshined his whole class in every area. But
I still missed him.
Everyone who lives in the Colony secures an
occupation upon commencement from the school. This usually means at the
Academy, a large building where guards are trained, or the high-rise laboratory
complex, where I work. There are other jobs, of course; there have to be. If
nobody cooked, or tended to the animals, we’d all starve.
Luckily,
James was a shoe-in with regard to the Academy; his parents and grandparents all
had thick vines. Vines. That’s what we called them. Most every person born here
has a specific genetic trait passed down from our ancestors, who were injected
with a vaccine upon settling here. This particular vaccination catapulted a
line of generations with special abilities and saved us from extinction. The
vines, black lines on our skin, are linked to a number of enhanced physical
strengths along with a variety of other skills that intensify as they become
larger—
if
you’re lucky. As a person reaches maturity, the more prevalent
those skills become.
Regrettably,
as I grew up, my vines never seemed quite as predominant as everyone else’s did.
However, last year when I turned seventeen, they finally became thicker. Almost
overnight. My vines thickened, but my strength and power never fully advanced.
I looked like every other girl, two arms and two legs, but undeniably clumsier
and bonier; my body oddly proportioned. Before graduating, I never turned any
boys’ heads. And even still, when I looked in the mirror, all I saw were legs far
too long and skinny, and a nose that needed some work. Not to mention, I was as
pale as a cucumber and my feet tripped me everywhere I walked.
James
came in to my life out of nowhere. Our Colony lives on an island that endured
the devastation that ran rampant across the Earth. We call the island our Land
and only a few thousand people have survived since first securing the terrain with
a perimeter, which keeps us safe from any unwanted survivors. Our ancestors
fought hard to stay alive prior to coming here. In a colony so small, everybody
knows everyone else’s business. And yet, I never communicated with James before
that day. That specific day during our last year of school, he was assigned as
my partner for a project. When the teacher called our names aloud, I was
mortified by James’ loud, ogre-like response and immediately requested a new
partner… Unfortunately, to no avail. My feelings for him now are like north and
south compared to what they were like on that first day.
Today
after work, I hiked straight to our spot, the field where we first met doing
research on that assignment. After weeks working on the project together, and
me tolerating his rude behavior, we started getting along. Opposites really do
attract; he had too much energy for one person and I slowed him down, helped
him appreciate the little things. He forced excitement into my life; the
feeling of being bored wasn’t something I ever really considered beforehand.
When the research was completed and we turned the assignment in, it suddenly felt
wrong not to talk anymore. The next day, I spotted him following me after
class. When I turned around, he asked me on our first official date.
I
looked around the field, but James wasn’t here yet. The vibrant rays from the
sunset melted into the sky and I breathed a sweet scent from nearby; a string
of pink and red blossoms covered a mass of bushes, flowers James planted for me
last year. The aroma was a careful mix between honey and lavender.
I
never had anyone treat me the way he does.
We
know between my brains and his future rank in the Academy, we’ll never want for
anything and have everything we can imagine on this small island. I have the
brains and connections with my father working as top scientist in the lab and
James’ strength is more powerful than most people at the Academy his age are. Without
a doubt, we’ll both obtain clearance levels above our friends within a couple
of years. And every three years, a handful of guards are picked to join an
elite team, James hoping to be one of them. The elite team is scheduled for
their first reconnaissance mission, which takes place following the next onset
of additions—eight months from now. The goal is to thrive and find another Land;
an inhabitable place that we can occupy and populate with more of us.
Everyone
who lives here came from a military background, bled into our blood by
procreation. When our ancestors arrived, they wouldn’t have lived if not for
the help of the military. From there, naturally, our Colony was born.
James
and I talked all the time about making it official one day—getting married. But
not anytime soon. Right now, we both needed to focus on our clearance level. It
wasn’t easy though. The only person I thought of all day, every day, was James.
Every day. It made it hard for me to focus at work; my mind wandered during
equations I was supposed to solve and chemicals I was mixing. This led to making
a few mistakes over the past year in the lab. One disaster in particular I was
lucky that nobody perished and fortunately, I wasn’t fired.
The
scent of lavender was all around as I watched the sun lower behind an energetic
sheer cloth of pink. Then I heard James’ footsteps sneaking up behind me. I stretched
back on my elbows, basking my face in what was left from the sun’s heat as he ran
up and stole a kiss from the side of my neck. I closed my eyes and he kissed a path
around to my lips. The warmness lasted minutes on my skin, and then he
reluctantly pulled away.
Before
I could say anything, a picnic basket behind his back caught my eye.
“Brought
your favorite,” he smiled and sat the basket in between us, lifting the lid. I
saw what was inside and didn’t know how he pulled this one off. Lemons. They
were hard to come by due to lack of availability, but the smell of the lemon-iced
cake was undeniable and instantly made my mouth water. For some reason, lemons
didn’t grow well with the soil here. There were very few lemon trees and
normally the fruit was saved for President Falcon. I wondered how James acquired
them, but decided not to worry about such a minute thing. The last thing I
wanted was to dampen the mood with a stupid inquiry, especially when he was so
excited about the surprise. A grin sat stagnant on his face, spread ear to ear,
and I happily grabbed a slice.
For
the rest of the evening, we were a mess of laughter, enjoying each other’s latest
stories. We could literally talk all night and never get tired of hearing each
other speak. Eventually, it started getting late and we gathered the empty
plates and picnic blanket before James walked me home. My parents and I didn’t
live too far away, about a thirty-minute stroll from the field. Neither one of
us had a car yet, a person, normally a guard, had to be assigned one since not
many were available. He’s hoping once the next promotion comes around, if he makes
the elite team, he’ll be assigned his first vehicle. I desperately hoped the
same. I had never been inside a car before and it would be nice not to walk
everywhere.
Once
we reached my porch, James and I lingered in each other’s kisses for a few extra
minutes before he left. When I opened the front door, a strand of light escaped
from underneath the kitchen door. The yellow glow shined against the dark
wooden floors, and my eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. Normally my parents
would be asleep at this hour and the only thing greeting me would be a single
lamp on the entry table. They’re used to me coming home late after being out with
James and no longer stayed up waiting for me. Yet it hadn’t always been this
way; when James asked me out on our first date, my father wouldn’t hear of it,
he told me ‘no’ before I could complete a defense for
my
side. They
didn’t know him nor did they trust him. It took weeks before my mom was able to
talk my dad into letting me sit on the front porch with James, windows open in
case I needed their help for some strange reason. They didn’t act this way when
we had been working on our school assignment, alone. Having the windows open
while on the porch was more than embarrassing. I was positive James would never
ask me out again. Fortunately, he was as hardheaded as my dad and after a month
of numerous, repetitive dates on our front porch with the windows open, my parents
finally agreed we could go elsewhere—the field. After more months of dating and
my dad realizing James wasn’t going anywhere, he eventually came around to the
idea of us. Plus, my dad’s attitude changed once he made it clear to James that
if I came home with so much as a teardrop, he would make the necessary
arrangements to destroy any career of his at the Academy. I know my dad would
never really do anything like that, not now, but I think it frightened James,
because for a while he wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
Unexpectedly,
now my dad has sort of become a father figure to James—a role that’s been
missing in his life since he was much younger. He doesn’t talk about that day; the
accident his father was in at the Academy. The only thing he’s ever mentioned
is he was killed in a training exercise and he said he missed him, but that was
it. That was the last time he ever talked about him to me. James isn’t the
touchy, feely, show-all-your-emotions type of guy. He likes to appear as tough
as he looks.
As
I stood in the entry, the house smelled of warm chocolate pie fresh from the
oven. My mom loved to bake and had many failed attempts at teaching me how. I’m
not bad but definitely not as good as she is. She doesn’t keep recipes;
it’s
all in her head
she says, thus only making it that much harder for me. I
stepped onto the first stair heading towards my room when I heard my mom’s
voice getting louder in the kitchen. She had always been a quiet person,
careful with the words she chose and how she spoke to people, and she’s told me
more than once I needed to think before I speak. Something I think she does too
often. For her to raise her voice in any situation is cause for curiosity. I
carefully stepped back down and crept across the wooden floors, maneuvering
between the blue couch and the oversized bookshelf as I inched closer. I listened
with my ear on the kitchen door. Completely still. My hearing wasn’t as good as
James’ was. He could hear my heart beating in a room next to him.
I
shoved my ear as close as possible against the door, trying not to make any
noise. Only a few audible words cleared my hearing between the jumbled whispers,
then my mom’s voice got louder again. Something about Madeline. My sister.
I
haven’t heard her mention Madeline’s name… ever. I only knew of her from the
pictures I found one day in the attic. I had stared at the small photo grasped
between my fingers and asked my dad who the baby was. He told me they had another
daughter, she would’ve been my older sister, but she had died from the plague.
I knew exactly what plague he was talking about. There was only one. The plague
killed hundreds of people during the years when our grandparents settled here. And
it wasn’t completely gone, just controlled. I haven’t heard of a single
incident for decades, but every now and then someone gets ill and dies, especially
this past year. Every death made me wonder if it was the plague making a return.
After
my dad told me the story about how Madeline died, I never brought the subject
up to my mom. He said Madeline’s death almost destroyed her completely. They
were scared to have children after that, but after a few years, they decided to
try again and that’s when she became pregnant with me. I think that’s why he
was so protective of me; he already lost one daughter and was terrified of what
it would do to my mother if they lost me too.
Whatever
my mom and dad were talking about in the kitchen suddenly came to a halt. I
quickly tiptoed back across the living room and stepped onto the first stair
when I heard, “Hi Penelope, did you just get home?” My mom and dad were the
only ones who called me by my full name anymore. “I baked a pie, dear. Would
you like a piece?” my mom asked.
I
looked at the clock pendulum swinging back and forth on the wall next to me.
“It’s kind of late, don’t you think?” Nearly eleven o’clock.
“Oh,
I didn’t realize it was so late,” her voice slowed to a whisper and her
shoulders sank. “Still, I made this pie. Somebody has to eat it.” Her small, thin
lips arched as she held the pie out like an offering. She knew I couldn’t
resist her cooking—or any dessert for that matter.
“Okay,”
I replied, walking back towards the kitchen. The three of us sat together
around the table and they asked me how my night was. They knew it was my
anniversary so I told them about the surprise picnic, leaving out the parts
where we kissed, and how everything was perfect.