nd water bottle. If I go by the sun, I’ve been trekking for a few hours now. Alone.
I shouldn’t be alone. I should be with Brie, Mason, Jared and Baby Bear. If it wasn’t for these stupid nanobots and dumbass General Carch, I would be. But no. I have to get grabbed, stolen from my friends and brought to medical-testing jail. So now, not only do I have no idea how much time has passed since I’ve been taken, I have no idea what state the world is in now. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me explain.
Before all this crazy nonsense, I was just an average girl. I went to school, studied for tests, played in a band, had a kickass best-friend and a great boyfriend. Then, when playing one of our first real shows, I hit a chord on my guitar to find that someone (I have my suspicions, however moot they may be now,) crossed my amp wire. While it exploded, it dropped a few thousand volts of electricity into me. Normally, this would really hurt someone. Me? Well, not only was I fine, I became sort of charged with electricity. Freaky, but still kind of cool. Definitely manageable. But then those creepy little nanobots started infecting people.
Before this started, a company called BioNano had announced that they’d harnessed the power of nanotechnology, allowing them to make incredible strides in medicine, among other things. The nanobots were supposed to be great tools for us, self-replicating, with the ability to change atoms and matter into things we needed. They regrew a limb on some dude, then next thing we know, self-replicating morphs into an all-out war. These things can make more of themselves faster than we can blink. Suddenly this ‘infection’ is everywhere. People panicked, and believe me, mass hysteria sucks.
I managed to escape my hometown with a few others, which last I saw, was left in ruins. My mom’s been lost since that day. Our home in the northwest corner of Connecticut was close to the original place of the ‘outbreak.’ There was no warning.
It’s a miracle we made it out. If it wasn’t for my electric charge, we wouldn’t have. It’s been both a blessing and a curse. It’s the only thing that stops the nanobots, and luckily, before I was taken away by the evil general, I was able to meet up with a doctor who was able to replicate the energy I make (apparently my body mutated the electricity into an entirely new form of organic energy, like lightning-but not.) I’ve even successfully cured a few people in the early stage of infection. The problem with being special when the world ends? You become a hot commodity, for all the wrong people.
Out of everything I’ve been through lately, this aloneness, this not knowing if the few people I have left in this fudged-up world are okay, is by far the worst. Sure, I’m safe from infection, and nanobots, but I have no way of finding my friends. I can’t even figure out where the hell I am.
My self-indulgent pity-party is about to hit its peak when I notice a break in the trees. My heart leaps when the cabin comes into view. Please, please, please let there be food in there.
The grass is overgrown, the cabin obviously abandoned. I don’t see any other signs of people, any other cabins or even a road, so maybe this place has been abandoned for a while. It’s hard to tell as I climb onto the rickety porch.
The door is wood, weathered and worn. The handle creaks when I turn it, but it doesn’t open. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d try to break it down. Instead, tired, thirsty and hungry, I sink to the splintery porch floor, defeated. It’s not until I look up that I see the window. A window just big enough to wiggle my ass through, and blessedly already cracked open. Looking up, I give silent thanks to the window gods.
It takes more than a few minutes, the window is just as weathered and jammed as the door, the old wood of the cabin swollen from the moisture in the air. Finally, it gives, though not before I manage to jam my elbow quite painfully. With absolutely no grace, I wiggle myself through the small window landing face-down on the floor with a hard plop, knocking the wind out of me.
Ignoring the pain, I hop to my feet and look around. A thick coating of dust is the cabin’s most prominent feature. We’re not talking some beautiful vacation cabin. More like a hunting or fishing cabin. Old, musty furniture, bare necessities abound the small space. Through the dust, the dominating smell is musty and mold-like. I spy one corner that houses some cabinets, a small wood-burning stove. At least I’ll be warm tonight.
The floor creaks in protest as I move to the corner with the cabinets. The doors to them moan when I pull them open. There’s not much, a few canned goods. I take them and put them on the small table and repeat the process with the next cabinet. By the time I’m done, I’ve got a decent amount of canned goods and even a couple bottles of water-one of which I immediately open and chug down.
None of the cans of food appear to have gone bad. It seems like another life time, but I distinctly remember Mason explaining the first thing to check for, besides rust, is if the cans have popped or expanded. These haven’t, so here’s hoping. I rummage through the drawers in search of a can opener and try to stop thinking about Mason, and the pain that it causes. I never imagined I’d miss my boyfriend so badly, but the time without him has been torturous. Same with Brie, this is the longest I’ve been without her since we were in diapers.
In an attempt at distraction, and out of necessity, I begin a similar search of the drawers, though there’s not nearly as many as the cabinets. I turn up some silverware, cooking utensils and blessedly, a can opener. Eyeing the woodstove, I wonder how hard it’ll be to operate. The prospect of cooked food and warmth is awfully tempting.
It takes some effort and a bit of smoke, but I get it going. I have to open another window because I forgot about the flu thingy. Once the smoke clears, the windows shut and it actually begins to get warm. Satisfied, I move towards food. Warm, cooked food!
I settle on a can of beans. Not the fanciest, but chock full of much needed protein and energy. It tastes better than anything I’ve had in a while now, although that just could be because it’s hot, another luxury that seems to be avoiding me. Even though I’m full after a few bites, I choke down a few more. My stomach has shrunk since I haven’t been eating. Probably, I’ve lost weight too, though it’s hard to tell when my pants are borrowed.
My stomach fuller than it’s been in some time, the small cabin now warm from the stove and darkness falling outside, I turn to the small cot. There’s a blanket folded on one end, and it all looks clean enough. With the way I feel right now, I don’t even really care, and curl up on the cot, wrapping myself in the blanket before falling fast asleep.
There’s nothing particular that I’m able to point out when I awaken, no noise or scent or anything to give off any type of detection. Rather, it’s just the overwhelming sense of another presence that gives them away. Feigning sleep for another moment, I keep my eyes closed, taking a moment to pull my thoughts together. Opening my eyes, it takes just a moment for them to adjust and for the intruder to focus into view.
Definitely army. Or ex-army, who knows these days? His face is cautious, and that leaves me a bit perturbed. I don’t move before he speaks.
“I hope I didn’t frighten you.”
“No way. I’m used to weird guys I don’t know watching me sleep, it’s not creepy or anything.” So I’m a little cranky, sue me. I sit up.
He cracks a smile. “Sorry. You looked like you needed the rest, I didn’t want to wake you. I’m Lucas.”
Part of me is still cautious, but another part is ecstatic to see another person. “How’d you get in here?” I ask, standing now. He’s still got a big advantage on me height wise, although I have my own advantages that he could never foresee.
“The door.” Figures he got it open. “I saw the smoke…I haven’t seen any other people in a while now, so I came to investigate and found you.”
Oh. “So you’re not in the army?”
Lucas shakes his head. “Not anymore. I was before everything, I was in a camp towards the south-the last one left that far east.”
I swallow hard before finding the strength to answer. “What happened there?”
Lucas lets out a long breath. “That’s a long story.”
“I haven’t really been able to talk with anybody recently either. Why don’t you sit, give me a few moments and I’ll make some food. You must be hungry, and the stove works. You can tell me your story over breakfast.”
“Only if you tell me your name.” He pulls out a chair and hovers over it.
I shake my head no. “Not until after your story.”
He gives me an odd look, but sits down nonetheless. First I go to the outhouse, the only non-luxury-though better than nothing, I will say that. When that’s done I stumble back in to find the stove on and Lucas waiting. He could just be really hungry, although regardless it’s nice not to have to go through that fiasco again. Throwing some corned beef hash in a pot, I put it on the stove and instantly it smells amazing. Pouring each of us a cup of water, I place them on the crude table and give the hash another stir.
“You said you haven’t been able to talk to anyone…why’d you put it that way?” Lucas asks, sipping his water.
He’s astute, I’ll give him that. “Maybe I have my own long story.” There. Chew on that.
“Okay, okay, point made.”
About the Author
Casey Harvell lives in the Hudson River Valley of New York State with her husband and their two sons. She is slightly zombie obsessed and known to use the word ‘boom’ frequently. You can find her on Facebook, and on Twitter- @CaseyAHarvell
She is currently hard at work on Shocked, the sequel to Charged and Harsh Decisions, the second book in her Decisions series.
Other Books by Casey Harvell
Lingering…
Righteous Decisions (Decisions Book I)
Harsh Decisions (Decisions Book II)
Aliens, Death & Zombies
Website:
https://sites.google.com/site/caseyaharvell/
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Shocked
About the Author
Charged (Electric) Page 19
