Beginnings (Book 1): Future Apocalypse

by Gilbert, Barbara J.

  Copyright © 2019

  Barbara J. Gilbert

  Edited by: Carol Rushing

  Cover Design by: Christian Bentulan

  All Rights Reserved

  Future Apocalypse is a work of fiction. Names, places, etc., are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, locations, or events, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without written permission from the author.

  Dedication Page

  To my boys:

  Marcus and Thomas who accidently inspired me to write.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Prologue

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I want to extend my thanks to everyone at NanoWrimo for their encouragement, support and willingness to inspire everyday people to write those stories that lie within their minds.

  I want to thank the following author friends for their great advice and help.

  Lisa Ackers for pointing me to a book on how to write blurbs.

  Tom Abrahams for reading my book and giving me some sage advice, which culminated into a few rewrites and added sections. Thank you!

  Boyd Craven for sending me to his cover designer.

  Douglas Hogan & G. Michael Hopf for offering to promote my book once it was published.

  Robert Wilson, a new author himself, for dinging me on chat every so often and checking on my goals and progress, and for telling me to get up with T.L Payne. Thanks for the added push.

  T.L Payne for giving me great advice on how to market and promote my book, and for sending me to a great Facebook group with tons of good information. BTW I’m still combing through it all.

  Patti Glaspy for telling me about her aunt who is a great editor.

  Chris Pike & G. Michael Hopf for TOC help.

  Austin Chambers for giving me good writing advice.

  Kyla Stone for helping me with KDP select questions.

  I want to thank my beta readers for taking the time to read and help catch issues in my book.

  And most of all thanks to my friends and family who supported me during this process.

  Prologue

  Wilmington, NC

  She wasn’t your typical little girl, one who played with Barbie dolls and learned how to read in kindergarten. Oh no, she was much more! What made her different began before she was born, when her mother, Mary Brown, was struck by lightning. Mary was slim and beautiful, with long, blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, and loved working in her vegetable garden.

  One day she was so deeply engrossed in her gardening that she hadn’t noticed a bank of dark clouds in the distance. Suddenly, the sky turned dark, and the angry clouds began spitting out heavy rain. Before Mary knew it, a bolt of lightning had slammed into a nearby tree and, as if it were alive, cast a small finger of energy out, striking Mary and knocking her to the ground.

  Mary’s husband, Richard, was handsome, muscular, and usually had to bend over to get through most doorways. He happened to glance out the window at just the time his wife was falling to the ground. He ran out of the house, carefully picked her up, took her to their car, and laid her gently into the back seat of their red Ford explorer. Hopping into the front seat, he peeled out of the driveway, spraying gravel far into the air, and headed toward the local hospital. By some kind of miracle, Mary and the baby survived the lightning strike, and the doctor told them both would be fine.

  Little Paulette Brown was born two months later during one of the most intense hurricanes that had ever hit North Carolina. Even though she came into the world screaming and yelling, she never spoke until she was three. Doctors believed it was because of the lightning strike, but little Paulette would prove them wrong. When she finally spoke, her words were more like a soliloquy of knowledge than a normal three-year-old. Her parents couldn’t believe what they were hearing and realized that she was indeed a gifted child. They no longer had doubts about their little girl’s abilities, but they were now left with new concerns — what to do with her genius, how to keep her a little girl, and how to prevent her from being turned into some freak show. They made the decision to keep her at the appropriate grade level for her age so that she’d be treated like a normal child.

  Paulette didn’t like being held back and continued to learn everything she could. Even at the age of ten, her favorite subjects were math and physics.

  Her favorite place to go after school and on the weekends was the library. She loved going in and being surrounded by rows upon rows of books — books like “Quantum Physics” or “Advanced Math”, and even “Huckleberry Finn”. She could then choose any book she wanted and sit down in a comfy chair and read to her heart’s content, basking in the silence that was only occasionally interrupted by a quiet whisper at the front desk or a pencil that slipped away from its owner and fell to the floor. She needed that place of refuge in her life since her school days were long and boring.

  Paulette was growing up fast. She had entered the eighth grade and still hated every minute of school. She spent her days working on science projects. One project involved time travel; and, although she still couldn’t quite figure it out, she enjoyed the challenge. Her parents let her experiment because they assumed that fantasy would soon pass. But Paulette didn’t think of it as a fantasy.

  The Browns lived in a modest, three-bedroom home, with a living room, kitchen, and den. The one thing that stood out with their home was the storm shelter that Paulette’s dad had built in half of the basement. He always believed in being prepared. He grew up in a family of preppers, those people who always prepare for the worst that seems to never happen. Because of his upbringing, he was a little burned out on the whole SHTF — Shit Hits the Fan — mentality; but living in a hurricane, and sometimes, tornado zone, he decided a storm shelter, with at least a week’s supply of food and water, would be good enough.

  On October 8, 2020, a hurricane warning was issued for the entire Wilmington area. Hurricane Jackson was packing winds of one hundred plus miles an hour and would arrive in a day or two. The Weather Channel assured everyone it would hit land as a high CAT 2 or low CAT 3, but the government wasn’t taking any chances after what had happened from Hurricane Michael in Florida two years earlier. So, they ordered people to evacuate the city and outlying areas.

  Richard, being a stubborn and self-assured person and determined that they could take care of themselves, refused to leave. He was certain that a measly CAT 3 hurricane wouldn’t hurt them any more than any of the other hurricanes of the past.

  Paulette and her parents prepared for the hurricane as they always had. They boarded up the windows, checked to see that the animals could get free, made sure there was plenty
of water and food in the storm shelter, and took their pets to the shelter with them. They had always come back up from prior hurricanes to find the house was fine, so they hadn’t bothered to take any important documents or anything else they wanted to keep safe.

  As the hurricane drew closer, the weather forecasters became more and more concerned. They stated that the hurricane would hit the coast of North Carolina just slightly south of Wilmington, and it would pack sustained winds of two hundred plus miles an hour, with gusts as high as two hundred fifty.

  The storm worsened quickly; but it was long past time to evacuate, so Paulette and her parents went down to their shelter. Paulette’s dad decided that maybe he was wrong and should get their important papers and a few other things. Paulette and her mom urged him not to, but he insisted he would be okay and that the hurricane wasn’t that close yet. Paulette’s mom couldn’t convince him otherwise, so off he went with instructions for them not to open the door till he returned and not to come up for any reason. Paulette and her mom cried as her dad left to go upstairs.

  The storm rammed into the coast and chewed up and spit out everything around it. The winds howled, and the rain came down in horizontal sheets. The noises continued to get louder, and trees were torn from their roots and slung into nearby houses and cars. The monster storm was carving a path of destruction through the heart of North Carolina, and it seemed nothing would survive.

  Paulette’s dad did not return, and she and her mom stayed in the shelter crying. In the back of Paulette’s mind she figured he got stuck somewhere, couldn’t safely get back to them, and found shelter elsewhere. She felt she had to hold out hope that her dad was still alive.

  The storm lasted two days. Paulette and her mom emerged slowly, not knowing what they’d find. As they poked their heads above the rim of the door, what they saw took their breath away. The devastation was total. The house didn’t exist anymore; in fact, there wasn’t much standing as far as the eye could see. Wilmington was gone. Nothing remained except broken trees, debris from houses and businesses, and crushed cars. After they left the shelter, they began to search for Richard. They found him pinned underneath a downed tree. Mary knelt down to check his pulse and see, if, by some miracle, he was still alive. She reached down, placing her two fingers on his neck, and held her breath, hoping to feel a heartbeat. But there wasn’t one. She sat there stunned before breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably, the tears and snot rolling down her face to drop into the remains of their once beautiful home. After hearing her mother and realizing her father was dead, Paulette became hysterical. Mary rose, wiping her face with her shirt sleeve, turned and grabbed Paulette, and hugged her.

  Paulette had lost almost everything that day. All that she could think about was that maybe someday she could change what had happened, even though she had been warned to never experiment with time travel. But she was more determined than ever to test her time-travel theories and knew she’d someday fulfill her goal and prove everyone wrong.

  Chapter 1

  Buckley, WA

  After Hurricane Jackson, Paulette’s mom decided she had had enough of hurricanes, so they packed up what little they had left and moved to Western Washington to a little town called Buckley. It was a small town in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. Its one unique feature was Mt. Rainer.

  Mary and Paulette arrived at their new two-bedroom house and stepped out of the vehicle. Paulette stood there staring at the house, pale blue paint adorned the outside with white trim, and the yard was small compared to her old home. She wasn’t very impressed, then as she turned her eyes upward, she noticed something more beautiful than she had ever seen. In the near distance she saw a tall snowcapped mountain with a cloud bonnet sitting at the top like a little hat. She drew in a breath and looked at her mom and said, “This will do,” as she promptly walked down the sidewalk and in the front door.

  Once inside she headed toward what would be her new bedroom, opened the door, and stood there frozen. She broke down in tears. Having to start all over from scratch was so hard. I wish mom had asked me about moving. I hate leaving all my friends and having to make new ones. Plus, our new house just isn’t the same without dad. Paulette mused as she continued to wander around their new house.

  Her new bedroom was square and had light-green walls and an ugly light-brown carpet. She tried to envision where she’d set up her bed, nightstand, and bookshelf her mother had purchased for her from the insurance money they received. This room needs a lot of help. Maybe Mom will let me paint the walls a light blue, my favorite color, and replace the carpet with a nicer one.

  The movers Paulette’s mom had hired came in the front door huffing and puffing with the weight of the items they carried and promptly asked Paulette, “Where would you like us to put your stuff?”

  “You can take it to my room, which is the one at the end of the hall on the right. When you get to my bedroom furniture, I’d like you to place the bed under the window, the nightstand next to the bed, and the bookshelf and dresser on the far wall. Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem,” the mover replied.

  Paulette’s mother wandered into the living room from the kitchen and caught Paulette’s attention. “I’ve been thinking about your request and as soon as we get everything moved in, you can go down to the paint store, select your paint, and paint your room. I know it’s more work, since you’ve got to move the furniture around, but we just didn’t have any extra time before moving in.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” she said smiling.

  “However, the carpet will have to wait till later.”

  “Ah, Mom, that’s going to look gross with the new blue walls, but I understand. Thanks.”

  Paulette was doing her best to adjust to her new home and her new hometown, but memories began to flood her mind.

  I wish dad was still here. We had so much fun together. I remember my first camping trip with him. I was six years old, and he took me to the Appalachian Mountains. We set up our tent and campsite, then he took me to the bubbling stream nearby and taught me how to fish

  The memory of the smell of fresh, slimy and squirmy fish still reminded her of the joy of learning how to descale it, clean it, and cook it.

  The next day, we went hiking overnight, and that’s when Dad showed me how to build my own basic shelter. He also taught me how to hunt. I remember seeing a rabbit. It stood stock still and stared at me and me at it, while I leveled the .22 and aimed. The rabbit remained still, not sure what to do, and before it could jump, I took the shot and hit it right in the heart. Dad told me what a good job I had done and to go get it so he could show me how to clean and skin it. I ran over and picked it up by its ears, with a big smile on my face, as I followed Dad to a small stump. He pulled out his hunting knife, handed it to me and instructed me on how to clean, skin, and cut the meat. Later, he showed me how to tan the hide. We had so much fun. I wish you were; I miss you so much, Dad.

  She wasn’t happy either that they had to have go bags ready in case of an earthquake. Her mom insisted she carry it with her, but Paulette preferred to leave it in the back of her closet. Maybe when she got a car, she’d throw it in there; but, for now, she felt she didn’t need it.

  The town was tiny compared to Wilmington, NC. Even so, it had a high school and elementary school, and a local burger joint where all the teenagers liked to hang out. It served one of the largest burgers around and had the best milkshakes ever. Of course, the town sported its own post office, police station, small courthouse, and the usual businesses that a small town would have, like a family-owned hardware store, small grocery stores, and even an old-fashioned coin-operated laundromat. Despite the town being so small, it had its beauty, with all the forests and the river and the best viewing site of Mt. Rainer anyone could ask for. Still, it would take time for her to adjust.

  Paulette had been out of school for over a month, and her mother felt it was time for her to go back to school, so she enrolled her in the local high sc
hool, White River High, where she began her freshman year. Her first day in a new school was hard. She knew no one and felt so alone. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so smart, then maybe I could make friends easier. My luck I won’t make any friends at all. She got into the routine of going to her classes and focusing on just getting by each day.

  The weather changed and snow had begun to blanket the ground. She liked walking to school; it gave her time to think about her theories and enjoy the smells of nature around her. One particular day, she was deep in thought when she came to an abrupt stop and fell backward, her books flying into the air and skidding through the snow on the sidewalk. She looked up to see what had caused her to fall and had to suck in her breath. She had bumped into a handsome, olive-skinned teenager, with black hair and green eyes. He was tall and built like a rock, so much so, that he didn’t even budge when they collided.

  “Excuse me,” Paulette blurted, as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Here let me help you up, and I can help with your books, too."

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome. My name is Greg Moretti; what’s yours?”

  “I … um … ah … my name is Paulette Brown. So sorry that I ran into you.”

  “Not a problem. Do you go to White River?”

  “Um, yes,” she replied.

  “Good, I’d love to walk with you to school if it’s all right?”

  “Um, sure, I’d like that."

  Greg bent down and began picking up and dusting the snow off her books and handing them to her to put in her book bag. Once he gave her the last book, he stood back up and they headed toward the high school.

  “So, what grade are you in?” She asked him.

  “I’m a freshman this year.”

  “Cool, me too.”

  “So, what is your favorite subject?” she asked