SILOS I
by David R. Bernstein
& Harper North
Copyright© 2018 by Torment Publishing. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced. Stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author or publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, live or dead are purely coincidental.
David R. Bernstein
North, Harper
Avatars Rising: SILOS I
For more information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book, go to www.davidrbernstein.com, www.harpernorth.com or www.tormentpublishing.com
CONTENTS:
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
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 1
A SALTY SCENT invades my nose and I sit up, confused. I press my hands into a uneven, yet soft surface. Unease washes over me.
I’m in a room. A dim one at that. A small lantern sits in a tiny circle of light several feet away, the glow barely reaching me. A distant crashing sound fills my ears. I move to the edge of the bed, my heart pounding in my chest. The springs squeak under my weight, only enhancing my elevated anxiety. I slowly stand and inhale, and the sharp, briny scent fills my nose once again. I breathe out through my mouth, tasting the air.
I don’t remember getting here.
I cross the room, my feet scuffling on the hard floor. I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see someone right behind me, but no one is there.
Once I’m within the lantern’s halo, my eyes begin adjusting to the shadows outside of the light’s sphere. The cot is the only piece of furniture in the room. I smooth my hand over the cool, curved wall. My palm catches on the rough surface and I pull it back. Concrete, or something like it.
A strip of thick fabric covers part of the wall behind the lantern. A strange, bluish light softly illuminates the side-edges of the curtain. A breeze skips into the room and ripples behind the fabric. Darkness evaporates and the cement walls wink and flash white, making me squint. I blink back the discomfort and then push the curtain aside. Blinding light sears my eyes as if it were the first time I’ve ever used them. I stumble back, nearly kicking over the lantern at my feet.
I press my palms against my eyes before opening them again. Black spots fill my vision when I blink. Heat rushes to my skin, clinging to my neck and cheeks. I rake my fingers over my hair and find it tied back in a tight, smooth ponytail. Is this how I usually wear it? I can’t remember.
My mind feels as if a dark, impenetrable cloud has settled over my memories. A chill runs up my spine. I cross my arms tightly over my chest, rubbing at my goose-pimpled skin.
“Hello?” I call out. My voice is swallowed up right away, barely leaving my mouth before it disappears.
I reach for the fabric again and brace myself for the return of the harsh light. I have to know where I am before I can formulate a plan. But a plan to do what? The rising panic forces me into action.
I pull the fabric aside and twist away from the light until my eyes adjust. When I look back, a brilliant blue fills my vision. A fluttering sensation erupts in my stomach as the salty air grows much stronger. I peer across the vast ocean and reach through corroded metal bars that cross the window. Moisture clings to my skin. The spaces between the bars are too small. I can’t see much farther than where I’m standing. But that doesn’t mean I don’t try.
My cheekbones sting as I press my face against the bars, but I do manage to stretch my view a little farther. There’s no sign of land except for the small beach that surrounds the strange structure I stand in. Waves crash near the base of whatever building I’m inside, but they’re too far down for me to touch.
I glance down and something catches my eye. The shiny, metal frame around the window is reflective, nearly as clear as a mirror. I jump back, not recognizing the stranger now staring back at me. Creeping forward, I lean closer and examine her thin, drawn-together eyebrows. At least I recognize her confusion. I press my fingers against my skin and she does the same, only hers is milky white and flawless.
How can that be me?
I swallow against the lump in my throat. My chest aches, and I fight to draw in a deep breath. I narrow my eyes until the edges of my vision blur and all I’m able to see is my face in the window frame. I don’t even know who I am.
Overwhelmed, I turn away and press my back against the wall. I shiver even though the room is neither cold nor hot.
My stomach churns. I place my hands against my midsection and feel the smoothness of my shirt. I’m wearing a tight, black, sleeveless tank top and long pants. The fabric is slick, as if made to repel water or sweat. The suit is tailored to my exact measurements, and feels more like a second skin than clothing. My shoes are constructed from a similar material, but sports a hard sole about a half-inch thick.
A small tingle rushes across my shoulder, as if someone is breathing right behind me. Turning, I see no one. I remain still, waiting for the feeling to come back again, but it doesn’t. I shake off the sensation for now.
I spot another window across the room. I dart over and rip open the curtain. More ocean. Only ocean. I glance back, straining to breathe, and discover two more windows. That makes four in total, each look-out an equal distance apart like the points of a compass. Every barred-opening shows me only more ocean. While the view is beautiful, the endless water isn't giving me any hope of escape.
Like a mouse trapped in a cage, I walk along the wall of the circular room, trying to understand my surroundings. With each lap, I dig deeper into my memory. I can’t remember any point in my life before the moment I woke in the bed. The feeling makes the hairs on my arms prickle.
Maybe I should try the windows again. If there’s any chance I can get through the bars, that may be an option. Or, at the very least, I could see if there’s anyone else around this secluded building.
I start with the window I first discovered. My fingers wrap around the smooth surface of the bars and I pull. My arms shake and my jaw aches with the failed effort. But I’m determined. Gritting my teeth, I press my legs against the wall for leverage and tug on the metal once again. The joints in my fingers pop as I wrestle with my cage. I try each bar, but the metal doesn’t budge even an inch. The rest of the windows offer the same conclusion.
Sweat clings to my brow and under my armpits. I pace around the room again, mapping each step.
I clench my hands at my sides and tilt my head back, releasing a frustrated groan. My voice echoes off the walls as I continue to stare up at the ceiling. I notice a small door at the top of the room and squint to get a better look. The hatch is big enough for me to fit through. Focusing so much on the windows, I hadn’t bothered to look up.
I press my fingers along the wall, searching for divots large enough for my hands and feet to grip. But the surface is smooth.
Frustrated, I climb onto the bed and reach up as far as I can. My han
d scours the cement for just one crack in the surface, anything big enough for my hand or foot. Scooting the bed along the wall, I search every inch, but find nothing that might help.
I sit on the bed and drop my head into my hands. Squeezing my eyes closed, I try to remember anything. A name, a place? Nothing.
My hands tremble, and I clasp them together to keep them still. I suck in a breath, almost forgetting to release it.
Adrenaline courses through my body. I launch to my feet and slap my hand against the wall next to my cot. Pain shoots down my fingers, across my palm to my wrist, but I don’t stop, slapping the wall over and over, hoping that a memory—any memory—will return to me.
My heart thunders, threatening to explode out of my body. A need to release more of my pent-up energy overwhelms me and I clutch the edge of the cot, launching the rickety steel frame away from me. A frustrated yell discharges from my gut as the cot flips upside down and tumbles across the room.
The muscles in my arms quiver as I slowly open my fists. I stare at my hands. That kind of strength doesn’t seem right for my body type.
Something shifts within me and I stagger back a step, clutching my hands to my chest. Warmth moves through my body. I stand straighter as my muscles go still, no longer trembling with panic. A sense of calm washes over me.
I glance at the window next to me. The reflection glinting from a metallic edge shows a confident girl, one who is ready for anything.
I pick up the cot, placing it in the exact location where I found it, unsure of why I feel compelled to tidy-up the room, as if cleaning is the most natural thing to do right now.
Awareness continues to prick at my mind and, once again, I experience that strange feeling that someone is with me. But that’s not possible. There’s nowhere in this room for anyone to hide. I shake off the feeling and allow myself to wade in the calming warmth that settles in my core. My shoulders slump and all tension releases from my body. I press my hand to my chest, comforted by the slowing rate of my heart, now falling to a normal rhythm.
I arch my head back and direct my focus onto the hatch. This focus feels more clear, more effortless than before. My eyes drop down, calculating the distance. I step back until my heels brush against the wall. With a smile crossing my lips, I sprint forward. At the last second before crashing into the opposing wall, I leap up, digging my toe into the side of the wall. I explode off that foot and jump the twenty-feet or so across to the next wall. My other foot makes connection, and I bounce from wall to wall, building momentum each time I slam into the next concrete surface. Until, finally, I shove off from the wall and reach out, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. My fingers grip a metal handle that hangs from the hatch, leaving my legs dangling over my prison.
A bubble of energy flames through my body. I grab ahold of that power and swing my legs up.
How was that possible?
CHAPTER 2
MY FEET PUSH open the hatch with no problem. I suppose whoever put me in the chamber, didn’t expect me to scale the walls to get out. The escape wasn’t locked. My arms hold my body steady as my legs shoot up and shove through the hatch’s door. My feet reach nothing but air. My back arches into a crouch as I land firmly onto the structure’s roof. My hands release the handles and I throw them outward to catch my balance.
Once my sense of balance settles, I rise and take in my surroundings.
The sun shines above me, warming my skin. A breeze dances over the back of my neck and through my ponytail, lifting it ever so slightly. The view is breathtaking. I inhale sharply, tilting my head back and closing my eyes. For some reason, the scent re-energizes me. I have an urge to just dive headfirst into the ocean below. The five-story drop doesn’t frighten me at all. It's as if I were meant to climb out of that room and explore this world.
Looking down at my hands, I extend my fingers, but quickly ball them into tense fists. There’s an energy pulsing through my body, crackling in my veins. The rush is exhilarating and the roaring adrenaline blooms within me, enhancing my newfound strength.
I have to get off this island, no matter what it takes. I’m drawn to something—something I can’t yet grasp.
I need to move.
I walk across the flat, cement roof without an ounce of fear in my bones. Should I even feel fear now? A warning softly echoes from somewhere deep inside my mind. Yet I brush it aside, and eagerly. The urge to explore is greater. My sturdy yet flexible shoes scrape across the rough surface as I near the edge. Looking over, I calculate the distance to the water. Twenty yards or so down, a narrow strip of beach circles my personal silo of confusion. I huff an ill-humored laugh. This tower is definitely a silo of some kind, but not the kind that stores useful information.
A silo in the middle of an ocean? That doesn’t seem right. Still, the word “silo” sticks with me, as if I already knew what this building is. Do I? That doesn’t seem right, either.
The curved walls sink into the slender patch of white sand skirting the tower. The silo’s exterior surface is similar to the inside’s concrete walls. And, once again, there's no ladder to assist me.
The hairs on my head prickle. Strange. Even out in the open, I feel a shadow connection to someone. Or something.
The moment I sense another’s invisible presence, a swirling warmth blooms in my chest and radiates out to my limbs. A constant urge to look over my shoulder should concern me, I know. And, yet, I shrug it off. Still, I walk along the edge of the silo and scan for any signs of life, anything that would explain why I don’t feel alone while stranded in the middle of the ocean on a strange building.
On my second loop, an object hazes in-and-out of focus from the undulating currents and snags my attention. I shield my eyes against the sun’s intensity, squinting. My heart leaps. It looks like another silo. I wonder if another person is stuck in there, like me. As I measure the distance between buildings, another silo catches my eye farther off. It’s as if they’re multiplying Are silos mirages? It seems impossible that I didn’t see them before.
But then this whole situation seems impossible, yet here I am.
A sudden idea hits me and I decide to take the impossible into my hands once again. I squat down to grab the roof’s edge with my fingers. Balancing my weight evenly, I take a deep breath and then begin sliding down the silo.
The breath catches in my throat. My shoes hold tight against the surface, allowing my hands to dictate the speed at which I travel. And the movement is effortless, as if my body weighs nothing. I don’t feel the pull of gravity or any strain on my muscles. With a satisfying thud, I land feet first on the beach.
The control over my agility surprises me. I still can’t recall anything from before waking, even though I try. It’s as if I complete these crazy tasks without hesitation and forethought. Stranger yet, I succeed each time.
Who am I?
While it’s unnerving to not have any memory of my past, I can’t help but revel in the tingling sensations that ripple through me as I head toward the water.
Warmth rises from the sand. I let out a slow breath. The urge to jump into the ocean overwhelms me again. It may be the only way off the island, but I still need to be smart about my plan.
As I did on the roof, I walk along the edge of the beach, taking stock of the other buildings in the distance. I glance up at the bluest sky I ever remember seeing, though that doesn’t say much, since I don’t remember any skies before this one.
I try to spot the island I saw from the roof. My mind must be playing tricks on me. I now can’t locate the island closest to me. Glancing up at my silo, I try to remember where I stood on the roof when I first saw it. Frantically, I walk around again in an attempt to find my bearings. A weight settles in my stomach as I realize, without a doubt, the closest island is gone. I don’t understand how something that large could disappear without a trace. Did it crumble into the ocean when I climbed down mine? I don’t recall a splashing sound, though.
I eye the next closest s
ilo to me. Is mine about to do the same thing? A sliver of fear moves through me, but the second I feel it, it’s gone. The inner courage and calmness, now flooding every inch of me is relentless.
Instead of worrying, I walk toward the water. The waves crash against my feet and wash up my calves. Whatever material my clothes are made of keeps the water from touching my skin. Without a final look back, I push off the sand and dive into the ocean.
The temperature of the water is both refreshing and warm. The salty taste of the water touches my lips. I press them together as I move forward, away from my silo and toward answers. I hope. Uncertainty fills me, tightening my chest. But, once again, it’s buried by my overwhelming determination to explore.
I swim a ways out from my island. Once I'm at a safe distance, I tread water for a moment, swirling my arms to keep me afloat. I find the remaining silo. It looks fairly far off, but I don’t care.
I kick my feet hard as my arms cut through the water. My breathing picks up as I pull my legs and arms in close, making my body aerodynamic.
When I can, I keep an eye on the other silo, hoping it doesn’t disappear like the first one. The idea of treading water without anywhere to go doesn’t appeal to me. Though, with the way these silos appear and disappear within minutes, maybe another one will pop up soon.
No such luck.
Every few strokes, I look up at the distant silo. I find it hard to believe I’m not at all tired. Whoever I am, I’m a good swimmer.
Halfway there, I stop swimming to scout for movement at the silo ahead. I squint my eyes and take in the sandy beach before checking the roof. I’m not sure if anyone else has the ability to scale walls like I do, but I can’t count anything out. However, so far, there’s no sign of life on the other island.
I come up with a plan in my mind. If I don’t find anyone inside the silo, then I’ll head back to mine.
I glance over my shoulder and my jaw drops. I blink a few times to make sure I’m not imagining it.
Avatars Rising: SILOS I Page 1
