Lizzie survived a pandemic that killed 98% of humanity. Now she is pregnant after an end-of-the-world, one night stand. She and her unborn baby are 'protected' by her family and the government of The City—no travel or endangering herself or the baby. Lizzie doesn’t like to be controlled, so she runs away as the power goes out.
An excerpt from
Straight Into Darkness
PRELUDE
Run, Baby, Run
LIZZIE SAT WAITING IN THE Provincial Utah Government Offices. They’d come for her father, Manuel Guerrero, first. In addition to herself, there were a dozen or more people folks sitting around waiting. As more were called she realized they were taking the able-bodied adults first. That made sense–prioritize the most important, most likely to help first. After a bit she wandered over to the receptionist, a young woman, a little older than herself, a brunette with some blonde highlights that looked like they might have been from time in the sun.
The girl shrugged. “It depends.” Her eyes swept the waiting room. “You ought to be pretty soon.”
Her father re-entered, nodded politely to the man who’d taken him inside. Lizzie hurried toward them.
The man pointed at the young man across the room and gestured for him to come.
Lizzie wanted to say, ‘Hey, I’m older. I should be next,” but she also wanted to find out what had happened with her father. “How’d it go, Dad?”
“Fine. I get to do planning work until I’m fully recovered.” He made an ugly face. “Organizing supplies and searches. I suggested I could design victory gardens. He said he’d get back to me.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Lizzie offered. “You’re not cleaning toilets.”
He laughed. “Well, I’d rather deal with real shit than planning and organization.”
“Not me.” Lizzie grinned. “I’d hate that, too, but not as much.”
“Lizzie Gooden-Guerrero?” a female voice called from behind her.
“Coming,” Lizzie called over her shoulder. “Wait for me?”
“Of course, I don’t have to be to work until tomorrow.”
Lizzie kissed his cheek and spun, hustling to the lady with the clipboard.
The woman, her gray streaked hair pulled back in a low ponytail, stared over her reading glasses at Lizzie. “Come with me.”
Lizzie followed the woman, who reminded her of someone, as she turned abruptly and motioned her into a small cubicle.
Lizzie sat. The hand written name tag said Ms. LaFevbre.
“La Fee Bray. Not Lafeeber or La Fever, please.”
Lizzie nodded, not trusting her smart-ass mouth. Would she get to be a Collector? Help dog-people and scavenge like Zach and Duke? She knew no women were allowed outside the city walls they were building out of Semi-Trailers and Panel trucks, but some got to collect inside. Jess was working with animals, Nev with elementary kids at the school and Rachael in a day-care. She smoothed her jeans like they were a skirt rather than picking at them with her flitting fingers. She smiled calmly at Ms. LaFevbre.
“Well. You’re almost 18?”
“Yes,” Lizzie nodded trying to not be too eager. “In January.”
“Yes.” Ms. LaFevbre’s eyes scanned down the chart. “And you’re pregnant.”
“That’s what the doctor says,” Lizzie made sure it sounded jovial and not sarcastic.
“Married?”
“What?”
“Are you or were you married?”
“No. What difference does that make?”
LaFevbre’s eyes strafed Lizzie’s face, narrowing in on her eyes. “I suppose it makes no difference now.”
“Any issues with reading? Glasses? Dyslexia?”
“No. Nothing. ADHD. Not currently medicated.”
LaFevbre pursed her lips and glared over her glasses. “You’ll be in school. Extra classes for childbirth and child rearing.”
Classes. That was it. La Fever reminded Lizzie of her stern second grade teacher, Mrs. March. Lizzie blamed her for not getting through the Louisa May Alcott books. Just the name March made her want to avoid school.
Lizzie’s heart sank. “I’m really good at collecting. Back home in Bellingham, my friend and I saved a baby and got him all situated.”
“Well,” LaFevbre said bruskly. “I saw that on the paper. Perhaps you’ll learn how to raise him and he won’t be taken from you.”
Lizzie’s jaw dropped. Did she really just say that?
“You will report to building Seven. The Career and Technical Services building.”
“But…”
“Since you are already pregnant,” the word came out like it was profanity, “You may arrive late and miss the first class on procreation. Report to Room 212 at 8:05 a.m. That is all.”
“But, I don’t want to. “
One eyebrow raised behind the glasses. “Do you wish to eat?”
“Yes, but-”
“Your job is clear, No one else can do it for you. Have your baby. Then you may apply for other work.”
Lizzie gritted her teeth. The woman said ‘work’ like profanity, as if it was another four letter word. She stood. “Thank you, madam.” And she left, revving up for an explosion. By the time she reached her father it must have been fully visible on her face. His hands motioned, Calm down, but Lizzie had blown past him when she saw that.
The receptionist called, “Miss? Are you all right?” as Lizzie slammed the door behind her.
Here's what a
Fan said
Enjoyed it very much! This is book two and shares more of the travels in a new world. Lizzie is a character that I related to in the first book, All is Silence and more of her personality and quirks are revealed here.
Mr. Slater has a way to give his characters to RL feeling that pulled me in. Pregnant and wondering where the next steps take her and how to handle the things that pop up in the new world.
There is a good amount of pop culture in the book, and that makes it even more fun, but it's handled in a way that makes it readable and should hold up the test of time. It was a smooth, easy, fun read. I look forward to book three!
Robert L. Slater is a teacher/writer living in Bellingham, Washington. His stories and poetry have appeared in many small press publications. His first novel, All Is Silence: A Deserted Lands novel, was released in 2014. He has a should've-been-a doctorate B.A. in Theatre/Education, Spanish and History minors and a M.A. in Educational Technology.
He sings, plays guitar, acts/directs in regional theatres, cooks, reads, practices Taekwon Do, writes plays, songs, and stories. He has six children and two grandchildren. His motto is Robert Heinlein's "Specialization is for Insects." www.DesertedLands.com