J.F. Slade
  • About J.F. Slade
  • Displaced
  • Distant
  • Short Stories
    • Alone
    • The City
    • The Crawl Space
    • The Door to the Planet Surface
    • Dream Makers
    • The Fade
    • Fugue
    • A Love Story
    • A Resource of Unlimited Opportunity
  • Other Works
    • The Caldaria Trilogy >
      • The Vision of Caldaria
      • The Quest for Caldaria
      • The Waking of Caldaria
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The second story in the Soldier Novellas is available now!

Read Distant Today

Chapter 1

​My cheek smacked the crumbled pavement with startling intensity. I didn't need to check that it was bleeding. My muscles clenched as I rolled to my back to confront my assailant. 

It was no one. I was all alone. 

I sat up and brushed the gravel from my hands before reaching to examine my face. Blood and dirt stained my fingertips, transforming my skin into an abstract work of art.

How many days had it been? Or had it been months? Years? The sun's heat radiated against my shoulders, pulling me into my place in time. I needed water. I was dying.  
​
I wobbled as I stood, unable to focus the swirling landscape around me. I locked in on the horizon, attempting to steady my gaze. The road stretched out in front of me, and I stumbled forward, unsure of my direction or aim. 

I woke up with blankets wrapped around me, providing minimal comfort against the hardwood floor. The sky no longer overpowered me. Instead, wooden slats of a make-shift ceiling greeted me. I sat up and touched the bandage adhered to my cheek. A cup of water stood next to me, which I emptied within seconds. 

The unfamiliarity of this place was confusing, but that was far from the greatest of my uncertainties. 

"You're awake." A woman was standing in the doorframe, a stranger to me.

"Where am I?" 

"Roseburg," she answered. "You were walking on the freeway. I haven't seen anyone on that thing since the attacks."

"I don't think I'm from around here."

She laughed. 

"There hasn't been a visitor since the attacks, and we've preferred to keep it that way. How the hell did you walk all that way without anything?"

I couldn't answer. I had no idea. 

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Kara… or Teresa… I'm not entirely sure."

"Well, Kara or Teresa, I suspect you are hungry. I have a little food in the kitchen."

It wasn't much: meat from an unidentified source and blackberries from the overgrown bushes that infested the landscape, but I didn't complain. I inhaled it as if it were the best meal of my life and thanked her for her generosity. She gave me a quizzical look, which I didn't understand but failed to question. Instead, I excused myself to the bathroom to clean up. 

I washed my hands and then slowly removed the bandage from my face. The bleeding had stopped, and the scrape, though massive, didn't look too deep. It had mostly healed. How long had I been passed out on that floor? I splashed water on my face, cleaning what I could. I worked the dirt out of my hair and scrubbed my arms and legs. My clothes were a mess, but there wasn't much I could do about that. 

I stared at myself in the mirror, with the distinct feeling of something missing. Something was lost, but I couldn't identify what.

A door slammed in the living room, and I could hear loud footsteps entering the house. Instinctually, I froze, ready to fight or run. 

"Jane, I'm home!" he called out. "It was a good trip. We got a couple of deer…"

His voice trailed off as I could hear him shuffle around the room.

"What's all this?" 

"Something happened…" Jane's voice shook as she spoke. "Yesterday, I had the sudden urge to go to the freeway…"

"The freeway?"

"Yes, honey, please listen. I know it's strange, but I needed to go there. I found a young woman there. It's difficult to explain, but I felt compelled to help her. I didn't have a choice."

There was silence in the room.

"Did you give her our food?" he asked eventually.

"Some, yes." 

"Jane, we don't have enough as is. Even with a successful hunt." 

I stopped listening. Suddenly the four walls of that tiny bathroom became my prison. I couldn't go back out there and confess to the crime of my mind. I wasn't welcome there. I had imposed myself, forced that woman to take me in. It wasn't an act of mercy; it was a violation, and I had made it. 

Then everything clicked, and I remembered. 

I opened the door and walked out into the living room. They both looked at me frozen, unable to move due to my volition. 

"I'm sorry." Not that such words would make any difference. 

I walked out the door and jogged towards the freeway. Moving was no longer the challenge that it had once been. I found the sun on the horizon and charted my course, back north, back towards Portland and Trey. 

​I was Kara Le, a soldier, a cured soldier. The sprawling scar that had once been my trademark was now removed. The gift I never wanted, returned. 
About J.F. Slade 
© COPYRIGHT 2020. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
  • About J.F. Slade
  • Displaced
  • Distant
  • Short Stories
    • Alone
    • The City
    • The Crawl Space
    • The Door to the Planet Surface
    • Dream Makers
    • The Fade
    • Fugue
    • A Love Story
    • A Resource of Unlimited Opportunity
  • Other Works
    • The Caldaria Trilogy >
      • The Vision of Caldaria
      • The Quest for Caldaria
      • The Waking of Caldaria