Scorched: Sun Extinction
Page 5
“Where is everyone?” Lordes whispered.
A sick feeling wracked my stomach. I tried to see beyond the bridge to the community at the end of the pier, but it was walled and gated. The main gate was only slightly ajar.
“Not good,” Lordes added then unshouldered her rifles, checking to make sure both were loaded.
We all drew our weapons.
“Be ready, but be cautious,” I said. “Remember, they aren’t expecting us. Maybe they’re just fishing or working or having a meeting. We don’t want to scare them half to death and get ourselves shot in the process.”
The others nodded.
Nasir swung the gate open slowly.
Moving carefully, we crossed the drawbridge.
As I neared the gate, I bent my ear to listen for the sound of voices, or people working, or anything.
There was nothing.
When we reached the gate, we entered slowly.
Low Tide had been built on the remains of a popular tourist spot at the end of the pier. Around the exterior, two-story walls had been erected with ramparts inside. Rope ladders hung from one side of the community to the other. Boats, fishing rods, nets, and buoys sat everywhere.
There was no one.
“Where are they?” Lordes whispered.
Faraday shook his head.
Looking around, I noticed that supply boxes appeared to have been opened haphazardly, doors to houses were ajar, and near a brazier, a bowl of food sat uneaten. I walked over to the fire, letting my hand hover over the coals. The fire was cold.
I shook my head. “Wherever they went, they left in a hurry. Let’s look around.”
Faraday motioned to Lordes, and they headed toward the stairs leading to the second-story rampart.
“Come on,” I whispered to Nasir. Keeping our guns drawn, we began to work our way down the right side of the pier. A building, which had the name The Mermaid Inn written on the wall, sat at the center. As we walked, I looked into the windows. There was no one inside. The tiny houses, little more than shacks, along the wall under the rampart, built between old booths and shops, were all empty. I wished then that Keyes were here. I was missing something. My sister could always see beyond the obvious. What had happened here?
I looked up at Lordes and Faraday.
Faraday met my gaze then shook his head. It wasn’t long before we reached the end of the pier. There, I found a structure that extended to the very end of the pier. On the wall in faded metal letters was written Boardwalk Tourism and Education Center. Rust stained the wall below each letter, a ruddy smear of red underneath.
“I’ll check in here. You swing back around the other side,” I told Nasir, who nodded.
I pushed the glass door of the building open, startling just a little when a set of chimes hanging on the door tinkled.
“Hello?” I called softly.
There was no reply. This must have been their community center. Chairs had been set up so they could meet and discuss. Maps hanging on the walls traced the shoreline, noting safe coves and good fishing spots. On a large table at the back of the room, another map was laid out. This map showed islands further out into the Atlantic. Alongside the noted isles, someone had written comments about supplies of water, vegetation, and game. Was that where they had gone? Had they left Low Tide for one of the islands?
I looked out the window at the ocean. It wasn’t blue. It was a strange green color, swirling slowly.
Something clattered in the room beyond the table.
Raising my gun, I moved to investigate. Moving slowly, I pushed open the door. Inside, I found a small storage room full of boxes, bags, and jars. They were the supplies The Park had been waiting on. Metal clanged once more. A window latch had come open. I closed the clasp and headed back.
It didn’t make sense. Why would they leave without telling us or delivering our supplies? Did they care so little if we lived or died? Surely not, or they would have kept the supplies for themselves.
As I walked back toward the front, my hands started to shake. Something felt very wrong here.
I opened the door then looked up at the rampart for Faraday and Lordes. We’d need to go ahead and close the drawbridge and settle in. We’d go over their maps and figure out how to get our supplies back. Once we did that, then we would work out what to do, figure out where Low Tide’s community had gone.
Scanning the ramparts, I didn’t see Faraday or Lordes anywhere. I stepped away from the building and looked all around. Had they come down?
I took a step toward the path Nasir had taken when I heard a muffled scream.
Lordes?
I then heard a grunt and the sound of commotion.
A moment later, Nasir came running up the walkway toward me. “Get inside. Get inside,” he screamed.
I turned toward the door and grabbed the handle.
Then, I felt it. Something sharp pricked my back. Pain shot through me. My blood felt like it was on fire. I turned to look back at Nasir, but he was lying sprawled on the boardwalk.
My knees went soft, and I fell.
My mind screamed at me to get up, to move, but I couldn’t do anything.
Just as my eyes closed, I heard voices and saw a pair of black boots coming toward me.
“Got her,” someone said. “That’s all of them.”
I closed my eyes. In the split second before oblivion overcame me, a terrible thought crossed my mind. I had failed my sister. I had failed her. It didn’t matter what happened to me next. I had failed, and because of me, Keyes would die.
And then everything went dark.
* * *
Continue The Burnt Earth Series, picking up with Keyes’ adventure in Book One, Scorched: The Last Nomads.
MelanieKarsak.com
Author’s Note
So sorry to kick you in the teeth with a cliff-hanger like that. I have a good reason. I swear. Let me tell you why I did it.
A while back, I conceived of a post-apocalyptic story that featured a world destroyed by a space-born, unstoppable disaster. My Harvesting series addressed my vision of a viral apocalypse. For this series, I wanted to play in a different ballpark. I was interested in what would happen after a massive solar flare or CME impacted the Earth. The steampunk author in me also wanted to play with greenpunk and solarpunk themes. I married these interests with the vision of the Dead Troupe which had been rolling around in my head for more than a year. With the Dead Troupe, I envisioned a group of traveling entertainers/warriors who journeyed from one surviving community to another, sharing information and oral history as they went. In Book 1 of The Burnt Earth Series, they arrive at The Park.
Most importantly, however, Keyes had arrived in my consciousness—muse delivered—fully formed. This series is about her. I knew that Keyes’s sister was missing and that she would do anything to find out what happened to Ash. The Burnt Earth Series is Keyes’s story. The full three-book series will answer the massive cliff-hanger I just dropped on you.
While I know that was one hell of a cliff, I hope you forgive me. If I tell you what happened to Ash now, I don’t have a story. I wrote this prequel to introduce you to Ash and Keyes, to show you how much these sisters mean to one another, and to give you an idea of the events leading up to Ash’s (and Lordes’s, Faraday’s, and Nasir’s) disappearance. Now, let’s go find Ash.
Join me for Scorched: The Last Nomads, Book 1 in The Burnt Earth Series.
About the Author
Melanie Karsak is the New York Times bestselling author of the Airship Racing Chronicles, The Harvesting Series, The Burnt Earth Series, Steampunk Fairy Tales, and The Celtic Blood Series. A steampunk connoisseur, Shakespeare nerd, white elephant collector, and zombie whisperer, the author currently lives in Florida with her husband and two children. She is an Instructor of English at Eastern Florida State College.
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Table of Contents
Scorched: Sun Extinction
Novella DEscription
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Author’s Note
Table of Contents