by Sean Platt
I watch as she walks away, fast, eager to put distance between us.
I feel awful. I want to apologize, but a part of me knows that it’s best to stay put. Let her leave. Let her hurt; she’ll get over it. It’s best. A bandage ripped from a wound.
What are the alternatives? To apologize, and then what? Take her with me? No way in hell that Arnold would ever allow that.
And why would I even want her around?
So I can converse with two ghosts instead of just one?
I watch her in my rearview as she nears the road.
The school isn’t far. She should be fine.
Just let her go.
I look away from her reflection.
Tell myself she’s not real.
She’s a copy of my wife’s brain, a copy of my daughter’s.
Not the real thing.
A computer program, data driven responses based on a set criteria.
She looks real.
Sounds real.
But she’s not a real person.
And she’s not a replacement for either Willow or Ella, no matter how good it might feel to pretend.
A clever trick of technology.
Best to let her go.
A horrifying squeal rips my attention back to the street.
A UPS truck is stopped.
Car horns honking.
And … Eden is nowhere in sight.
I hop out of the car.
I race to the street.
I see beyond the shrubs, see Eden’s crumpled body lying face down in the street.
Oh, God.
Blood pouring from her.
I run faster.
The driver is out of his truck.
Cars are stopped.
I keep running.
I’m there first, falling beside her.
“Eden!” I cry out, turning her over.
Her face is bloody, smashed beyond recognition.
I swallow, grief splintering my body, leaving fragments in my soul.
“I’m so sorry,” I cry, cradling her limp body, my face against her broken face. “I’m so sorry.”
People are talking to me, but I can’t hear what they say.
Instead, my attention is drawn to Eden’s hand, her little fingers twitching.
I take her hand, squeezing it, flashing back on the many times I’d held Willow’s hand just like this.
And Ella’s.
Her fingers squeeze tighter.
What?
I look down and see an aura, a pink one, surrounding her.
Until now, Eden’s aura has always had a similar mix of signatures, a blend of the girl that she was and her hardware’s program.
It wasn’t human. It had a distinct hum and a constant green aura, not like a soul’s, but some nebulous combination of body and tech.
But this light inside her feels different. Looks different. A bright pink like Willow’s soul, tinged with violet like Ella’s, with specks of green and red swirling inside.
It is … somehow … a soul.
How is this possible?
Her fingers squeeze tighter. A blinding light and pain rip through me.
I try to close my eyes, but it’s impossible to smother my mind.
A rush of memories storms my senses. A chaotic churning of sights and sounds and tastes and smells. A rush of emotions threatening to drown me.
So many. Too fast. A torrent I’m forced to swallow, else I choke.
But I can’t process a thing.
Ella’s memories. Willow’s. Eden’s.
She’s uploading them to me.
And then, all is silent.
I watch as the light rises from her chest, hovering in front of me.
I feel its warmth. Impossible radiance on my face.
Then it blinks from existence.
And I’m alone, but no longer alone. I’m with the collected memories of Willow, Ella, and Eden, all in my head, swarming, making me dizzy as I try to control them, to slow them to a quiet roar.
It’s like a stream of data I must slow to understand it better.
People approaching. A siren in the distance. Someone, a man, asks if she’s okay. But their voices are dull as if heard by someone else.
A part of me is seeing and hearing the voices and memories of my wife, her sister, and my daughter.
Eden’s terrible visions storm my mind, and then I learn the horrible truth of what Fairchild has done to my father and daughter, and what he plans to do to humanity.
And I’m the only one who can stop him.
* * * *
EPILOGUE - ELLA
I stare at my father as he lets go of my head.
The surge of memories fades to a trickle.
I look up at him. “I’m … I’m not Ella?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Then who am I?”
“I think you’re the pink thing that I saw when Eden was dying. Energy? A soul? Or something new. I don’t know.”
I swallow, trying to comprehend all that I’ve seen, all that I’ve felt, all that he’s uploaded into my head.
I feel a hundred different things, but not one of them is good.
All I can think is, I’m not real.
I’m not real.
I’m not—
An explosion tears through the main hall, followed by gunshots and screams.
“They’ve found us,” Ben whispers, grabbing his gun.
TO BE CONTINUED…
The story concludes in Homecoming- turn the page to find out more.
WANT TO KNOW HOW IT ENDS?
One more day in a body that doesn’t belong to me. Another day further from a life I can't remember.
My name is Ella. Or at least that’s what I believed. Until Ben Shepherd revealed that I’m not who — or WHAT — I thought I was.
I’m a pawn in a war between humanity and the next evolution of mankind.
I can choose to no longer be lost in limbo. I can have a normal life, and save the only family I’ve ever known—but to do so, I will have to side with an enemy that wants to unleash a psychic virus that will destroy humanity.
Do I choose to protect those that I love? Or do I choose to save a world that’s hunting my kind?
THE SERIES CONCLUDES IN BOOK SIX:
Click here to get HOMECOMING
GET THE FIRST TWO SEASONS of YESTERDAY’S GONE FOR FREE
Sign up for the FREE Goners newsletter and get the epic first and second seasons of Yesterday’s Gone for FREE! Yes, absolutely free!
Join the Goners and be the FIRST to get the latest Collective Inkwell news, sneak peeks at what’s coming next, and free books and short stories. Our Goners make our careers possible, and we’ll never spam you.
Get your free books now.
http://sterlingandstone.net/ygfb/
THANK YOU FOR READING!
Sean Platt & David W. Wright
FIND OUT WHY READERS CAN’T GET ENOUGH
COLLECTIVE INKWELL
To see all our of our books, visit:
www.SterlingandStone.net/collective-inkwell
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Sean Platt is the bestselling co-author of over 60 books, including breakout post-apocalyptic horror serial Yesterday’s Gone, literary mind-bender Axis of Aaron, and the blockbuster sci-fi series, Invasion. Never one for staying inside a single box for long, he also writes smart stories for children under the pen name Guy Incognito, and laugh out loud comedies which are absolutely not for children.
He is also the founder of the Sterling & Stone Story Studio and along with partners Johnny B. Truant and David W. Wright hosts the weekly Self-Publishing Podcast, openly sharing his journey as an author-entrepreneur and publisher.
Sean is often spotted taking long walks, eating brisket with his fingers, or watching movies with his family in Austin, Texas. You can find him at [email protected].
David W Wright is the co-author of several horror series, including the bestselling Ye
sterday’s Gone and WhiteSpace, as well as the disturbing standalone books, 12 and Crash.
Dave is also the curmudgeon co-host of the weekly Self-Publishing Podcast, he invites listeners along on his journey toward better health on the strikingly personal The Walking Dave podcast, and regularly rants about his many pet-peeves on the ridiculous podcast Worst. Show. Ever. (which should never be listened to by anyone, ever).
Dave is an accomplished and intermittent cartoonist who lives in [LOCATION REDACTED] with his wife and son [NAMES REDACTED]. Dave cultivates the perfect level of paranoia and always carries a decoy wallet in case he gets mugged. You can stalk him at [email protected] or visit his personal blog at www.davidwwright.com.
For any questions about Sterling & Stone books or products, or help with anything at all, please send an email to [email protected], or contact us at sterlingandstone.net/contact. Thank you for reading.
