annalsmith

Chosen: Chapter 1, Part 2

Mon, 20 May 2019 02:54:58 GMT

We didn’t make it far before some basic issues presented themselves. First, once our legs started moving, so did our guts and there wasn’t a single commode or sheet of toilet paper in sight. Much less privacy on the wide open plain. I had to go and, if I was reading the pinched expressions on almost everyone else’s face right, so did they. My body had a routine, and the ‘I’m awake now!’ routine was predictable, and not something I wanted observed or uncleaned. I had thoughts on how to attend to my needs, but I’d already sacrificed my sweat shirt. I wasn’t sharing the legs of my sweat pants for anyone’s needs but my own.

It wasn’t long before Shadricka called a halt and addressed the problem of the bursting bladders. I wasn’t standing with my legs crossed – yet – but modesty was quickly becoming a luxury I could forego. Still with no trees or bushes in sight, let alone a single square of toilet paper, I was already planning my own solution to the situation before Shadricka spoke.

“So…there’s not much choice here. Just backs to each other and take care of business.” She ran a hand over her hair and awkwardly shrugged her shoulders.

We all eyed each other but no one spoke. I felt heat sweep over my cheeks but cleared my throat. “Perhaps we should dig a latrine? We don’t know what wildlife there is here. We don’t want a predator tracking us without some way of fending it off. We can’t hide our scent completely, but we can at least bury our waste and make it harder to find.”

“Sure. Let’s dig a hole with one of the dozen shovels we’ve got with us.” The sarcastic snark cut through the air clearly.

I gritted my teeth but refused to be cowed. Hell no. There were only twelve of us here and I wasn’t starting this new life, whatever it turned out to be, as less than anyone else, open for ridicule and mockery. “Hands work just fine for digging.”

I knelt on the ground and grabbed a handful of grass. If the ground was hard, this would be difficult. I didn’t think it would be; there had been a little give to the grass as we’d walked. The grass I pulled came up easily, soil falling away from the shallow roots. I ignored everyone else and focused on my self-appointed task, widening the small patch of bared earth until I had a roughly circular area exposed. Then I started to dig with my fingers, the moist soil packing under my fingernails and caking into the fine lines of my fingers and palms.

“This is ridiculous. We’ll all be standing in puddles by the time you’re done.”

I wanted to ignore the muttering. I really did. Something told me that this was important, a necessary precaution. But the doubt was planted and I couldn’t help second-guessing myself. Was I being so insistent just to be stubborn, to feel right? What the hell did I know, anyway? I’d never even been camping; my experience with survival skills was pretty limited to fantasy novels and romances.

I sat back on my heels. “Fine,” I sighed. I scrubbed the dirt off my hands as best I could and joined everyone else taking care of nature’s demands, sacrificing a small scrap of cloth I tore off the bottom of one leg of my sweats to clean myself. I didn’t volunteer to share. I would be needing my clothes for a lot of things in the near future, and not just for covering.

Finally relieved, we continued our trek across the grassy plain. The sun rose higher and soon thirst became a problem. There was nothing we could do about that, however, except hope we came across a water source soon. Sam walked silently at my side and the only thing I heard was the sigh of wind through the grass and the rustle of our passing feet. The occasional curse from someone was they stumbled or stepped on something. The thick grass offered more protection than I had thought it would to our bare and sock clad feet. Even unaccustomed to such constant activity, the walk wasn’t bothering me much. Another oddity in a day of weirdness to ponder at some point in my now copious free time.

The sun rose higher and the day warmed. My stomach grumbled and I ignored it. Eventually we would have to figure out food, but so far I hadn’t seen anything but grasses. Eventually we had to come to some other type of terrain but there was no telling when that would be, or if it would be in time. Surely, surely, we didn’t end up God knows where just to die of dehydration or starvation? There had to be a reason we were here, right?

Staying in one spot wouldn’t accomplish anything. Our only choice was move. Please let us have moved in the right direction.

“Why did you think we needed to dig a latrine?” Sam asked, breaking the silence that surrounded all of us. He kept his voice low and his gaze scanned the horizon, moving in a constant arc.

I shrugged and folded my arms. “It’s what they do in all the books. Fiction, sure, but grain of truth, maybe? Animals track by scent, and spore – shit – has a lot of scent. It might attract attention where us just walking by may fade faster.”

“Huh.” We walked another few minutes before he spoke again. “What kind of books did you read?”

I looked at him and arched an eyebrow. “Fantasy, sci-fi, and romance.” He smirked. “I am a girl, you know, and don’t knock it. My dad read romances, too. He used to send me to the library to get them for him.”

“I did notice you’re a girl.” His smirk widened into a grin. “Sci-fi?”

“Honor Harrington is kick-ass and you can’t get more sci-fi than that. Diagrams, dude. Diagrams of their missiles. And enough politics to twist your brain into pretzel.” Of course, on rereads I’d skip the space battles because I preferred the actual character interactions.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “I was never much of a reader. I’m a sports nut. Baseball, basketball, football-I play them all.” He stopped his horizon watching to look at me. “I haven’t seen any signs of animals.”

“We’ve covered what? A couple of miles? This isn’t a zoo.” I shrugged. “They’re out there. Predators come out at night. Prey rules the day.” I paused. “I think.”

“Be nice if we had a hunter in the group, but I get the feeling most of us are city folk.”

Yeah, someone who had a clue how to survive would be awesome. I was pretty sure we were out of luck, because no one had spoken up yet. So we walked under the lavender sky, through the little too blue grass, hungry and thirsty, and hoped we were going in a direction that would lead us somewhere that let us live.

And I hoped none of us harbored any misguided hope that we’d ever see Earth again. Other than falling asleep and waking up in our beds, that hope was pointless. If we didn’t know how we got it, we certainly wouldn’t know how to get back home.

And just why were we all acting so damn calm about it? Where was the panic? The denial? All of us were way too chill for this situation. I searched my emotions, looking for something, and all I really felt was just this sense of acceptance. Like I knew everything would be okay, that effectively losing my entire way of life was no big deal. But it was a big deal. A huge deal. My friends, my family, my hobbies – all gone. I was uniquely unsuited for wandering through a grassy plain without even a pair of shoes. And yet, that’s exactly what I was doing and my only thought was I hoped we’d find water soon.

Granted, I’m usually pretty laid back. I’m not a passionate person. I don’t go for emotional extremes. I’ve been accused of not caring about things more than once. The accusation is unfounded, but why bother arguing about hot button issues when you’re not going to change someone’s mind? But this situation? This warranted some kind of passionate feeling, didn’t it? Something more than just relatively calm acceptance? I couldn’t even must a sense of disbelief. Instead my mind is already working on how to figure out shelter, who had the stomach to hunt, and how to determine what would be edible and what wouldn’t be.

I so couldn’t be a hunter. I hope someone else could be, but just the thought of killing something turned my stomach. I’d be happy to cook it – do you need particular types of sticks to rub together to start a fire? – but please don’t expect me to kill it. I’ll become vegetarian first regardless of how much I love pot roast and a medium steak.

I couldn’t even work up panic over my lack of panic. It wasn’t a case of feeling numb or removed from the situation. It wasn’t shock. Everything just felt to right to be wrong.

The only thing I could work up any worry about was how thirsty I was and how long it would be before we found water.

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Chosen: Chapter 1, Part 1

Tue, 30 Apr 2019 05:04:06 GMT

Alice

“On the eighth day, there is love!”

I knew I dreamt as the words echoed through my mind. They were strange; beautiful and choral and sounding both male and female at once. A feeling of rightness, wholeness, completeness rolled through me and brought with it a sense of utter, perfect peace. Is this what love felt like? Impossible. There were so many types of love, and each felt different. The love I felt for my parents was not the love I felt for my siblings, or for my pets. But I could think of no other way to describe what I was feeling now.

I basked in it, and even as I did, I mourned the eventual end of the dream. All dreams end, and days of dull routine begin. Even as the thought whispered by, the dream blurred away.

And my nose itched.

I sleepily rubbed at it and the irritation went away. Just to come back as soon as I moved my hand. I smelled dirt. And grass. I felt a breeze over my bare legs, but I didn’t hear my ceiling fan’s quiet hum. And whatever I was lying on definitely was not my mattress. The groaning I heard wasn’t coming from me, and there shouldn’t be anyone but me in my little efficiency apartment. My eyes snapped open as fear burned away all traces of sleepiness.

Several things were immediately clear.

I was outside.

I was lying in grass that’s the wrong shade of green.

I was not alone.

I sat up cautiously and looked around, wondering if I’d gone crazy or if I was still dreaming. But no – crazy people don’t wonder if they’re crazy; they know they’re sane. If I’m asking the question, then I can’t be crazy, right? And this didn’t feel like a dream. Dreams don’t make sense and while what I saw was unbelievable, there’s nothing nonsensical about it. I’m sleeping in a field of grass that’s a little too blue, with several other people. People I don’t know.

There’s a lavender sky overhead with three small moons low on the horizon. One sun in a clear sky was right overhead. Wherever I was, it’s midday and it’s not Earth. How is it not Earth? I don’t know. How did I get here? I don’t know. But the moon didn’t suddenly triplicate itself and no clear Terran sky was ever purple at midday.

There were eleven other people spread out, some just waking and others still sleeping, bodies either sprawled or curled up. Peaceful. For now.

Why wasn’t I freaking out? I should be panicking, right? Having a nice bit of hysterics? Denying the obvious? And yet, I just felt calm.

“What the hell?” The voice was female, groggy and grumpy. I looked in that direction and saw a young woman sitting up, one hand to her forehead, and looking around. Her eyes were a dark brown-black, and her hair was in an afro around her head. Her skin was the lovely dark brown that seemed so close to black, but not quite. She moved her hand and I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped me. Centered on her forehead was an oval of opal, or something that looked like it. Shifting colors flirted within the stone, but instead of a base white color, the stone was a vibrant, warm crimson.

I immediately felt my own forehead, and my fingers slid over a smooth, hard surface, about as big as the pad of my thumb. It felt like it had always been there; there’s no break in my skin. There’s just an oval space that feels different than bone underneath delicate skin, and somewhat cooler than the rest of my forehead. It didn’t hurt. Why was it there, and how had it gotten there? Is it crimson, too, or another color? I want to see.

More people stirred at the sound of the black woman’s voice. I said nothing; I watched as my companions woke, realized the strangeness around us, and noticed the stones in each other’s foreheads. We all seemed to be wearing the clothes we slept in – or didn’t. One of the men was completely nude, and one of the women was wearing a thong and sports bra. The naked guy attempted to cover his junk at first, but after a moment just sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and let things hang as they would. Another guy, wearing sweats and a tshirt, offered the nearly naked woman his shirt.

I’m glad it was a chilly night when I went to bed and I’m cheap with my electricity. I’ve got flannel pajama pants on, thick socks, and a sweatshirt over a cami. I peak around at the rest of the women to see if anyone else needs something more modest than what they fell asleep in, but while some of them have on skimpier, sexier nighties than I do, my sweatshirt would cover less than they already have.

The naked guy, however… I shrug out of the sweatshirt and walk over to him. “You could probably fashion this into a loincloth,” I suggest. “Tie the arms around your waist—”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, hastily taking the sweatshirt from my hand and doing just that. Pulling the shirt between his legs and tucking it into the band the tied arms made didn’t give him much protection, but it did give him almost as much coverage as boxers would, even if he looked like he was wearing a bulky diaper. “I’m Sam.”

“Alice,” I answered, offering my head. He looked at it oddly for a moment, then reached out and took it in a firm shake. “So, we’re not crazy and we’re not on Earth. That’s the sum of what I know. You?”

He shakes his head, then ran a hand through his brown hair. Sunlight picked out red and gold highlights that turned a plain, average color into something prettier. When he turned his face fully towards me I noticed that he’s handsome. Warm brown eyes still retained a hint of embarrassment, and the stone on his forehead was a deep green. I bet there would be a distraught girlfriend back on old Earth this morning.

“Listen up!”

I turned towards the black woman as her call rang out. Together Sam and I moved closer. Whoever she is, she apparently decided to take charge of our little group of …what were we? Wanderers who didn’t wander? Displaced humans? That would be most apt. I don’t mind that she appointed herself our leader; God knew I don’t have the necessary traits. I’d taken enough college courses in management and leadership to know I am neither. I am a follower, and happy to be that way. Leave the big decisions to others; I will go with the flow.

“I’m Shadricka. I don’t know where we are or how we got here, but clearly, we’re not on Earth. Also clearly, we’re in the middle of nowhere and we’re not exactly prepared for an overnight camping trip. Unless another nap is going to get us back home, we need to start taking some steps to take care of ourselves. Water, food, and shelter, in that order, needs to be our priority.”

“Not disagreeing with you, but who the hell put you in charge?”

It was one of the guys because, of course, a woman couldn’t be in charge if there was a male around. I rolled my eyes and tuned out of that argument. Shadricka was right. Wherever we are, we’re here to stay. Might as well start meeting some basic needs, all hail Maslow. I folded my arms under my breasts and turned away from the debate. I’m impressed with Shadricka’s bearing; some women feel the best way to get results is to be louder, coarser, and more hysterical than anyone else. Shadricka’s arguments sounded cool and logical, and I didn’t hear a single curse word come out of her. If she wanted to be in charge, I was fine with it.

The debate ended when another man ordered the first to just shut up, and a few of the women started snapping insults about male leadership. Shadricka gave a piercing whistle that silenced everyone. “I think we can all agree that we can’t stay right here,” she said firmly. “Water, food, shelter. I don’t see any of those three right here, and we’ve got to find them. So how about we do that now and worry about who’s in charge later?”

There were grumbles, there were tears, and there was silent consent. I just helped a few of the others to their feet and started walking in the direction Shadricka had indicated. It was just as good as any other as far as I was concerned. I stayed towards the back of the group as we started moving. I had good, thick socks on but most everyone else was barefoot. From here I could see who needed help the most. I might not be a leader, but I could be a damn good follower.

Sam stayed close to me as we headed out and for the while we were quiet. Right now, everyone was well rested. Hungry, probably, and certainly thirsty, but nothing really urgent yet. One thing was becoming that way, though, and I kept my eyes peeled for a large rock, bush, or tree. The enforced intimacy of seeing strangers in their nighties was enough to deal with right now. I had no desire to pee in front of them, too, and my bladder was starting to remind me of our morning routine.

“So. What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

I almost missed a step. Really? Really, really? A tired line like that, now? Here? I snorted, rolling my eyes before sliding a look at Sam. “Well, I just woke up one morning, and here I was,” I drawled.

“Funny. Me, too.” He walked a few more steps. “Any thoughts on why we’re all so calm about this?”

“Something in the air? We were specially chosen for a calm and unflappable dispositions?” I hesitated. “Because it feels right?”

“Yeah, that one.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “Why does it feel right?”

Why the hell was he asking me? Did I have an “I Have Answers!” sign blinking over my head? But I remembered my dream. “Because gods are omniscient and omnipotent.” If He created Earth in six days, couldn’t He as easy as winking send a dozen people to another world?

Well, how about that – I do have answers.

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