I live in a white split level suburban house. The interior is like one of those model homes that realtors show people.
Everything's neat. Everything has right angles.
A maid comes by once a week to tidy up, and empty mom's change drawer.
Our living room features a home theater system and a complete sofa and loveseat collection. Our dining room commands a view of a back yard with a patio and a hot tub. We have a grand piano.
My room is upstairs, above the garage.
As soon as we entered the house, I told my parents I needed a rest, and be by myself for awhile, to recover from what I saw.
That was the cover story, anyway.
I have always been obsessed with science, and space science. My walls are covered in posters of Saturn and Mars and the surface of the moon. I have star charts, models of the Voyager probe and the Pathfinder. I have a microscope, a chemistry set, a gerbil and a tarantula. My bed set bears the constellations of the Zodiac, the sheets featuring characters from Ben 10.
My telescope allows me to get a perfect view of craters of the moon. It also potentially allows me to see what's going on in the bedroom two houses over...or down the street, in the direction of the accident.
I aimed the wide end toward the latter.
I could just barely see the wreck. Too much stuff in the way The upturned car and the pickup looked like parts of a model train set from that distance, even when I adjusted the knobs.
No ambulance.
No police cars.
Instead, I saw a pair of black vans, and a group of figures in white ABC gear carrying the corpses away in clear plastic body bags. One of the men checked the area with a geiger counter while another hosed the blood away.
They winched the smashed pickup onto a flatbed tow truck.
"It's a little early for stargazing, squirt," I heard a voice saying in my ear.
I nearly fell over the railing.
"I don't see any paramedics," I said. "There's just a bunch of guys in Hazmat suits."
Dad chuckled. "You need to stop watching those zombie movies. Your imagination is getting the better of you."
I offered him the telescope.
After looking through the lens for a moment, he said, "The paramedics are in the white suits."
"Why do they have masks and black trucks?" I asked. "Where's the ambulance?"
"I don't see any masks. Or black trucks." Dad fell silent for a minute as he watched. "There's an ambulance," he said at last.
"Where?" I cried. "Let me see!"
Instead of showing me, he folded the telescope up. "You already saw, young lady. Now, I'm going to take this away for awhile, but if you want to do some real stargazing later on tonight, just ask, and we'll take it to the patio." And he carried it out of the room.
I hurried to the bathroom and locked the door, to check my ankle.
I hurt myself on the playground today. I was running, and I got caught on a loose piece of fence.
It left a gaping wound. I should have bled like a stuck pig, but I saw hardly any blood at all.
Even more surprisingly, there was something beneath, something other than muscle and bone.
It looked more like...armor plating.
Josh, my school friend, told me not to see the nurse.
"I knew this kid named Sarah who used to go here," he said. "She got hurt and saw something weird, went to the nurse. I never saw her again."
What he said after that chilled me.
"If I were you, I wouldn't even tell your folks. I know they mean well, but they might say something to the nurse, or someone at this school. They won't understand what they're doing until you disappear."
So I wrapped my ankle in paper towels, washed my sock, and pretended I was fine.
But now, in private, I poked at the armor with a tongue depressor, peeling back the skin around the site. I only found more shell.
I whimpered, afraid to go any further. I kept thinking about a scary movie about a man who walks around with his skin ripped off.
I rinsed out the wound, carefully cleaned it with peroxide, and bound it tight with bandages.
I heard a knock.
"Ellie? Are you all right in there?"
I slammed my back against the door. "I'm fine, daddy," I said with a dramatic groan. "I...just got the squirts. I think it's something I ate. I'll be out in a minute."
I made dramatic groans and rude noises until I couldn't hear his footsteps or see a shadow under the door.
I rinsed my sock again, threw it into the hamper, and put on a dirty one, to conceal the bandages until I could change socks.
I crept to my bedroom, almost falling over when I collided with dad's fat belly.
The man knelt in front of me, giving me that concerned parent look that made me cringe.
"Sweetie," he said, placing a plump hand on my shoulder. "I just want you to know what what's happening to your body is a perfectly natural, beautiful thing, and just because you occasionally explore your body or touch yourself, it doesn't mean you're bad, or you did anything wrong."
My ears felt like they were burning.
And then I wondered, is having a strange black shell growing under several layers of fat and skin also natural and beautiful?
"When's dinner?" I asked.
For supper, we had salad and roasted chicken, with cheesecake for dessert. We ate lean like this all the time, which made me wonder why dad wasn't skinny.
I asked him this once, and he said he snacked a lot at work. Bad habit.
Mom and dad don't talk about work. Mom says she works at the hospital, and dad works the finance division at a major company.
Mom says she can't say a lot due to patient confidentiality. Dad says he just works with numbers all day, so there's nothing worthwhile to mention.
"So..." mother said. "Your belt test is on Friday. You think you're ready?"
They pretty much had me practicing karate every day of the week. I rolled my eyes. "Of course."
Dad nodded, grabbing an extra piece of chicken. "She's been practicing enough."
Mom smiled at me. "You're only one belt away from black! Aren't you excited?"
"Yeah," I said, but I couldn't care less. It didn't matter if I liked karate or not. I had to go. I practiced because I had to.
"What else did you do at school today?" dad asked.
My response was educational, and impersonal. I told them what I studied, but now how I ate by myself at lunch, and intentionally made mistakes playing basketball to avoid drawing attention to myself.
I told them about the Austria-Hungary conflict, how to calculate alternate interior angles, and about Black Boy by Richard Wright.
"Can I go ride my bike?" I asked as mom was cleaning up.
Dad sucked air through his teeth. "I'd rather you didn't," he said. "Not with that accident down the street."
After helping put the dishes away, I practiced some katas, then went to my room, feigning sleep.
As my parents looked in, I kept pinching my eyelids shut, breathing slowly and evenly, listening for the sounds of their retreating footsteps.
"Guess she doesn't want to stargaze," dad muttered.
When he pulled the door shut and walked away, I went into stealth mode, slipping out of bed without a sound, stacking heavy boxes of stuff in front of the door with even less noise.
To kill time, and build on the illusion of sleep, I looked into my box of strange oddities.
Most of my oddities are nothing special. A coin flattened on a railroad track, a rock with a natural hole in the center, a hollow robin's egg.
One item, however, was different. A 2160 automotive calendar.
I found it playing around the fence at school a month ago.
I turn the pages, staring at the cars on each page, cars that make the ones running up my street look like antiques.
The Stormbringer Z Gas/Electric Hybrid.
160 MPG.
Autopilot feature.
It's 2016. Why would anyone produce a calendar for a year this far in the future? Is this some kind of gag from a movie studio?
I put it back.
I own a large teddy bear, about the same size as me, and a gold wig I once wore for Halloween. When I put the wig on the bear's head and tucked him under the blankets, he kinda looked like me. A little.
I crept out on the balcony, searching around to see if anyone were observing me.
No one yet, as far as I could tell.
It was a little after dusk, the row of houses across the street appearing to be quiet, with everyone indoors. The building next to me seemed similarly devoid of life.
I crept over the balcony like a noiseless spider, dropping down into the yard below.
I looked around and saw I still hadn't been detected.
A couple doors down, a Hispanic man was working on his aqua colored SUV. I nearly jumped into the bushes when his woofers blasted the neighborhood with Spanish rap.
My folks hated that music. Me, I thought it was catchy.
I glanced back at the house to see if my parents had been disturbed, but I saw no sign of them.
My pink bicycle still stood behind the hedge where I left it. I guess my parents hadn't noticed this either. I pedaled out to the scene of the accident before anyone could catch me.
Of course by then all the major evidence had been cleaned up. I saw no signs of license plates, identification, insurance papers or anything else I could use to learn more about the mysterious victims. Mostly I just saw shattered glass, a few random car parts (like a piece of a tail light), a toy monster truck, and a couple pieces of trash (a styrofoam cup and a soda can).
I stuffed the monster truck in my pocket. I thought this was going to be a wasted trip until I found the Raggedy Ann doll off to one side of the road.
On the surface, it was nothing, but the doll felt strangely...heavy, and it had an address sewn to the inside of its outfit.
I saw a black truck approaching. No time to examine it further. I stuffed it in the basket of my bike and pedaled home.
Honestly, I hadn't thought my plan through this far. My only thought had been to find out about the dead girl. The fact I had evidence and had to get back into my upstairs bedroom posed something of a problem.
I don't know why scaling the vinyl siding seemed like such a good idea, but I foolishly made the attempt.
Like a dog, I clamped the doll's clothes in my teeth. It tasted like blood and chemicals, but I wanted answers, so I kept it in my mouth as my fingers locked on the plastic slats.
I only got about halfway up the sheer surface before I slipped.
I thought for sure I would fall to the ground and make a bunch of noise, but at the last second, something sticky kept my palms attached to the slick surface.
The accident scene was dirty. I thought I had gotten something on my hands, so I just went with it, using the renewed traction to get me the rest of the way up the wall.
Once up on the balcony, I set the doll and the monster truck by the window.
It was a good thing I did, for the moment I climbed into my room, I found mom sitting on my bed, with the wig wearing bear on her lap.
"Did you have a nice ride?" she asked.
All I could think to say was, "Um."
"That was very sneaky," she said. "I probably would have bought it, had you not stacked all those boxes in front of the door."
I sighed.
She shook her head, making tsk noises. "That's what I get for letting you watch that prison break movie."
I could see she was trying to fight down a laugh. She set the bear down on the blankets. "So what did you see?"
"Nothing," I stammered.
"You were really obsessed about that crash. Are you certain you didn't see anything?"
I shook my head violently. "The...people...they cleaned it all up before I could see anything."
She gave me a sigh like she knew I was holding back. "How did you get up here?"
I shrugged. "I...climbed."
I had no good explanation for her, other than being small and gripping the slats very hard.
"Why if it isn't the Junior Birdman of Alcatraz!" dad joked when he came in. "Or maybe birdette?"
I climbed under my covers with a dramatic yawn. "I really am tired now," I said.
Dad rubbed my head. Mother kissed me.
"Good night."
I had to feign sleep twice as long this time, but they at last disappeared, and I could close and block the door once more. If they asked, I could say I got up, thought I had to pee, but then found I didn't, so I closed the door.
I grabbed Raggedy Ann, examining her with a pen light.
Ellen Ripple, it said. XXXX Suntree Plz, XXXXX KS.
The doll appeared to be completely ordinary until I examined the seams along the back.
On one side, I found a line of white thread that didn't match the one on the left.
The thread looked loose. Not only that, the type of fiber appeared to be dental floss.
I carefully pried the seam open and discovered someone else's collection of oddities: A folded map, a Rook playing card (the number seven), a magnetic card key in a plastic sleeve, a flash drive and...one of those small ladies' pistols, like the ones the burlesque girls slip into their garters in all those westerns. I gasped when I saw the weapon, looking anxiously over my shoulder to see if anyone had noticed.
The gun had no ammo in it, so I pointed it at a window and pulled the trigger. The noise was so loud that I quickly put the pistol away, to avoid being discovered.
The bullets were inside an Altoids tin, packed in dirt to prevent their rattling.
I held my breath for a moment, listening for any sound outside the door, from the hallway.
Hearing nothing, I stuck the flash drive in my computer, exploring the folders.
The first one had the label `Current Events,' but when I opened it, I found it contained nothing but articles and video from 2160, like someone had put together an elaborate hoax.
In one story, a bunch of Moslem organizations purchased the majority of New York City, then used thousands of hacked social media accounts to threaten the entire city, and later the state, into "voluntarily" declaring itself part of the United Arab Emirates, of which France was now a part. Americans voted for it, so it was "democratic".
Due to global flooding, Hawaii and California dropped beneath the waves. Film studios now used Salt Lake City as the new Hollywood. Deep sea divers in the Pacific uncovered hundreds of tons' worth of Hormel Spam per year. Many species of fish have bled to death attempting to pry meat out of those rusty metal cans.
Disney World was moved to a barge, due to Florida also being underwater. Once a year, it connects with the Disneyland barge, and there's a big festival.
Elephants are extinct. Whales are extinct. Sharks are extinct.
Pandas, gone. Tigers, gone. Squirrels and sparrows overpopulated the country. Car washing services boom due to all the bird droppings.
Androids exist. Religious leaders write cute articles advising against them, as they tend to break up marriages.
Child marriage is legal in Utah, gay and straight. The Supreme Court overturned age old laws against pedophilia. In some places you could even marry pets and sheep.
I cringed as I read all this, wondering how I was going to be able to sleep tonight.
The readme file contained one line of text: "Don't trust your parents. They are not who you think."
I thought about daddy's little `birds-and-the bees' talk and shuddered.
The other folders had pictures in them. One was of an electric fence above a rock outcrop at the edge of a park.
For some reason, a high resolution scan of the playing card was also included. If it had any significance, it wasn't anything I could decipher. Seven could mean anything.
Then I saw the girl, with her family.
The parents looked different, but they had an identical house, and the girl also went to karate. One picture showed her standing proud in her black belt.
She was in the Girl Scouts. Chess Team. Just like me. The pictures were mirror images of the ones in my house. A chill ran down my back.
I found official looking documents, scanned papers from some place called DAMBALLAH. Large amounts of landscape photographs had been included with these files, giving me the impression that the other Ellen had been attempting reconnaissance around the organization.
Before I could get a closer look at anything, I heard dad calling, "Ellie? What are you doing?"
"What?" I cried, playing dumb as I shut off the computer.
"I know you're not asleep. I saw a light in there."
"I couldn't sleep, so I watched some cat videos," I said, hiding the thumb drive. "I'm sorry. I'm done now. For real."
"Let me know if you're still having trouble. I'll get you some warm milk."
I nodded, though he couldn't see it through the door. "Okay, dad. Good night."
After he left, I tried to sleep, but couldn't.
Me and this girl had the same first name.
We were identical in just about every aspect.
But this part about 2160. How could all that be real?
Yet who would fake such a thing?
If it really were that far in the future, how was it that I could go online and be able to see the internet updating, in real time, day by day, as if it were actually 2016? And what about the people?
The deception would have to be elaborate, one requiring hundreds of people, pretty much everyone around me participating in the act. We're talking about something straight out of The Matrix.
Was the warning about parents for me? Or was this flash drive prepared for the dead girl by someone else? If the former, how did she know? If the latter, who did this?
I took out the card key, turning it over in my hands. It was the same on both sides, white with a faded yellow band running down the center, marked with a bold capital T. Trainee, perhaps.
I pulled the map out of the doll, unfolding it under my blankets. I examined it with my pen light.
It showed the streets of our city, with marker lines diagramming where a park was, and some hidden place beyond.
I recognized the place. It lay just a few blocks down from my house.
I had to go there. Only then would I find answers.
But first...I had to give my other home a visit.
When I opened my box of oddities, to add the new items, I suddenly noticed my calendar was missing.
I hadn't moved it.
Maybe the warning on the disk wasn't just for her.
Maybe I couldn't trust my parents.
Breakfast was awkward. I had several things I couldn't say, and dad seemed hesitant to say anything to me.
Mom and dad glanced at each other uncomfortably.
After a long silence, mother said, "I found a bloody sock in the laundry."
I paled. "I...think I just had my first period."
"Sometimes I wonder if sex ed is better taught in the home," dad muttered. "At least then we can pretend that our child is innocent for a little longer."
"At least she knows what's going on," mother said.
The conversation prompted her to bring me tampons. My facial blood stopped draining from my face and flooded my cheeks, but I was glad they at least were talking about that and not the chitinous black thing under my skin.
Plus, well, it doesn't hurt to be prepared...
It wasn't practical to bring the doll to school. Not with the gun inside. I wasn't even sure I could use the flash disk there, so I only took the map and the card key. I scribbled the doll's address on the map, stuffing the items in my book bag. The rest I would leave in the doll.
Outside. On the balcony.
My parents would catch me if I skipped school, so I decided to skip the last period bus instead. That would be the hour to begin my search, maybe earlier.
I go to T.S. Rodgers Academy, a fancy name for a self important middle school. It's just your average brownstone cube, with well mown lawns, a message sign, and a flagpole out front. The school mascot, a tiger, is painted on the floor in the main lobby.
According to the flash drive, the mascot might as well be a dodo bird. Or a dragon. Meaningless. Interchangeable with the ones belonging to all the other me's.
Our classrooms are small and cramped. Budget cuts. Of course, my school doesn't have that many kids in it anyway.
Rodgers has a balanced racial demographic, but that doesn't mean I have a lot of friends. It just looks good on paper. People of both colors give me the cold shoulder, suspicious looks. I'm okay with some of them as study partners or what have you, but we would never meet outside of school.
Okay, so I did go to karate with Lacy, Josh and Kamara, but I don't share classes with them this semester. Or lunch.
The moment I set foot in my first class of the day, I acted super normal. I studied about the Bolshevik Revolution, took a geometry test, went to lunch. By myself.
I met up with my friends at recess. Josh is a blonde kid with an overbite and a constant smirking expression, like he has a joke on his lips that he's just itching to tell.
Lacy is kind of a tomboy, her hair straw colored and carelessly shaped, her eyes naturally baggy for some reason. She dressed in plaid and denim, sort of like a lumberjack.
And then there's Kamara, who didn't get the memo that Afros were out of style. Regardless, she's cute, and she didn't wear farmer clothes.
These are the closest thing I have to friends. A couple times, they've stopped me in the bathroom and pulled down my pants to see what kind of underwear I was wearing, but other than that, they're cool.
The schoolyard is fenced in all around with ivy colored chain link, some sections dangerously bent out enough to cut you. A couple exits lead out to the crosswalk, and the neighborhood beyond. I occasionally get to play in the schoolyard after school. They have tetherball, basketball, and a miniature obstacle course.
During our unstructured free time, me and my friends went to the back corner of the yard, speaking in hushed whispers beneath the old sweetgum tree.
I showed them my injured ankle, the addresses on the folded up map. I told them about the wreck and everything. "I think now is the only safe time to go check it out. My parents...seem to know more than they're saying, and if I tell them I'm trying to locate a house from an address I found at the scene of an accident, they're not going to let me go."
"Can't you just lie?" Lacy asked.
I shook my head. "I just sneaked out on my bike yesterday. And my calendar is gone. I think either mom and dad took it. What if they take the map and the address too?"
"So you're just going to skip school," said Kamara. She was always the goody two shoes type.
"That girl looked just like me," I said. "And she might not be the only one, if Josh was right about the other girl."
"I know for a fact she didn't look like you," Josh said.
"What if you hide the stuff somewhere safe and pick it up later?" Lacy asked.
I frowned. "What if they still find it? What if this is the only way I'll be able to find out what's going on?"
"So," Kamara said. "How do you propose to get out?"
"I got it covered," Josh said. "Lace. How do you feel about a little sparring session?"
She grinned. "Lead the way!"
Up by the basketball goal, in full view of the yard monitors, Lacy slugged Josh in the stomach, then hit him in the face.
Josh responded in kind, and the other kids rushed in to get a ringside seat for the action.
I dove out the exit, hiding behind the wall of ivy.
The crossing guard was on the opposite end of the street, with the back of her orange vest turned to me. I had mere seconds to get out of her line of sight.
The moment I darted around the corner, I heard a series of loud cracks.
When I peered over the fence, I saw a man with a machine gun opening fire on my classmates.
I noticed the blinds in all the windows facing the schoolyard had been closed, as if the faculty had prepared for this in advance.
As they all lay bleeding on the blacktop, I saw the man pressing his gun into Josh's dead fingers with a gloved hand. They were going to make this look like another Columbine.
I ran away from there as quickly as I could.
[0000]
Note: This story is long. You can order a printed copy of Book 1 (Chapters 1-19) at Lulu. I get one cent for each copy. The price you see there is how much it costs to print and mail the item.