Gone (Parallel Trilogy, Book 1) (12 page)

Read Gone (Parallel Trilogy, Book 1) Online

Authors: Christine Kersey

Tags: #alternate reality, #dystopian, #suspense, #parallel universe, #YA dystopian

BOOK: Gone (Parallel Trilogy, Book 1)
3.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Yeah,” Amy said. “I guess it has.”

“Amy, who are you talking to?” Mom said, appearing in the doorway. “Oh, Morgan. Hi.”

Overjoyed to see her, I jumped up and threw my arms around her. As tears of relief filled my eyes, I blinked rapidly, hoping they would go away. After a moment I let go of her and she smiled warmly.

“I didn’t know you were back,” she said.

I didn’t know where I was back from, but I played along. “Yeah.”

“How was it at the Candee’s cabin?” she asked.

“Oh.” I was surprised to know that’s where I was supposed to be. “Uh, it was fun.” I didn’t know they had a cabin but I could only assume I would like it there. “Yeah, so we left a little early. When were you expecting me?” I asked.

“Not until after dinner,” she said. “But this is better. It will give you a little more time to make sure you’re ready for the first day of school tomorrow.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. The school year had begun two months before, in September. Fortunately I caught myself before I blurted that out. Instead I said as casually as I could, “Yeah, I’m excited to begin my sophomore year.”

She nodded, so I knew I had guessed right, but I wondered if school started in November here or if this was actually September.

“I know it will be hard starting at a new school, but I know you’ll do great.” She wore the smile of encouragement I knew so well. “I just wish you’d been able to make some friends over the summer.”

What had I been doing all summer? Did I not know anyone? What a loser.

“Oh well, I’m sure you’ll make friends soon enough.”

I nodded, then realized that it was actually a positive that I would be starting at the beginning of the school year at a school where no one knew me. At least I wouldn’t be expected to know anyone, which would make it easier to hide the fact that I wasn’t exactly from around here. This universe, that is. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep the hysterical laughter that was building inside me from coming out.

“Well, I guess I’ll get dinner started,” Mom said. “You’re on dish duty tonight, Morgan.”

“Okay,” I said, then remembered that there was no dishwasher in this house. Great.

Mom looked at Amy. “And you’re on dinner duty. Please come help me with dinner.”

I watched as Amy followed Mom out of the room and I sighed. Though elated to be with my family again, I needed a little time to myself to process what had happened.

What had happened anyway? How did I get here and how could I possibly have traveled to another universe? I methodically went over everything that had happened since I’d left home.

“Wait a minute,” I whispered, an idea occurring to me. Maybe it
was
that hut that led me here. That long underground tunnel or something. Maybe if I went back to that hut I could get back home. But how would I get there? It was a four hour drive away. Not only that, I wasn’t at all sure I could find the hut once I’d gotten to my old house.

Then another thought occurred to me. What if I found the hut and nothing happened? What if this was a one-way thing and now I was stuck here? How would I survive in this world where I didn’t know the rules and everything was so strange? In the short time I’d been here I’d already grown to dislike the way everyone was so obsessed with their weight.

In the world I’d come from people had been concerned about being healthy, but it was nothing compared to here. In this world they made you go to F.A.T. centers and lose weight. What was that all about, anyway? Was it against the law to be overweight?

The thought of staying here for the rest of my life made my heart race in panic. I had to get home. But how?

On top of everything else, I was expected to restart my sophomore year? That really sucked. I looked around the room, trying to find a calendar and saw one pinned to the wall above the desk. I walked over to it and saw that the current month was indeed September. Then I remembered that the computer at the Candee’s had said today was September third. It was the same year as it had been in my other life, but just two months earlier.

I wondered what the significance of that was. Would the date have anything to do with me getting back home? Did I need to go to the hut on the same date I had been there before? On November tenth?

A new feeling of hope surged through me that maybe there was some logic to how this had happened and I began to formulate a plan. I would wait until November eighth, then I would make my way back to the forest by my old house and find my way back to the tunnel that led to the hut.

All I had to do was survive for two months.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

“Morgan, dinner’s ready,” Amy called up the stairs.

My stomach growled and I realized I was starving. As I went down the stairs I tried to place the smell coming from the kitchen. When I entered the kitchen I saw Mom moving pieces of cooked meat onto a plate. “What is that?” I asked as I headed to the table, eager to satisfy my appetite.

“Liver,” Mom said.

I had begun pulling out a chair, but froze, not sure if I’d heard her right. It had sounded like she’d said liver, but she had said it like she would have said steak, or hamburgers, like it was a normal thing for us to eat. “What?” I asked, hoping I had misunderstood.

“Liver,” she repeated, a smile on her face.

Fortunately she didn’t notice me trying to withhold a gag. I sat in my chair and looked at the other items on the table, hoping I could fill up on the rolls and salad.

A few moments later we were all sitting at the table and Mom began passing the food around. When the liver came to me I passed it straight to Amy.

“Morgan, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you taking any? You always eat my liver.”

I like this stuff? I thought, trying to come up with an excuse for not eating it now. “Uh, we, that is, the Candee’s, just had liver last night.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. But you’d better have some anyway or you’ll be hungry later.”

“I thought I could just eat some extra rolls.”

“Oh, Morgan. You know you only get one roll,” Mom said, frowning.

“I do? How come?”

Her face reddened. “Maybe the Candee’s can afford to let their children have more than one roll each, but we, well, we just can’t.”

I didn’t know why she was getting so upset all of a sudden, but I grabbed the plate of liver back from Amy and jabbed my fork into a small piece before dropping it on my plate. Then I noticed that Amy and my brothers were staring at me. “What?” I asked, annoyed at their accusing eyes.

“You know we’re poor now,” Brandon said in a tone of voice that showed his disdain for needing to explain the obvious.

Amy reached over and lightly punched his arm. “Brandon!”

“Ow! Stop that,” he said. “It’s not my fault that we’re poor.”

“That’s enough,” Mom said sharply. “Yes, money is a little tight right now, but we have what we need.”

What had I started by asking about extra rolls? And why was money so tight? Was it because Dad had been taken away? Thinking about Dad and where he was and all the problems my family seemed to be having took away my appetite. But even though I wasn’t hungry anymore and the thought of eating liver made me want to gag, I cut a bite-sized piece off and placed it in my mouth. How could I not eat when food appeared to be so scarce? Slowly chewing, I wondered what I could do to help my family.

This liver isn’t too bad, I thought as I swallowed and then cut another piece. I managed to eat most of my serving of liver, but eventually I couldn’t force down another bite. Not because I was full. In fact I was still pretty hungry. But because after the first few bites, the texture and flavor made me want to vomit and I couldn’t force myself to eat any more. Focusing on my one roll and my small serving of salad, I managed to eat enough to keep me going for a while.

I thought that would have to do until morning, but then Mom announced she had something for dessert. Remembering the delicious desserts she’d always made, I pictured a lovely slice of chocolate cake or a warm slice of apple pie. So when she brought out bowls of sliced bananas and poured milk into them, my anticipation quickly turned to disappointment.

Hiding my displeasure at the lack of a sweet dessert, I took the bowl Mom handed me and ate all the bananas. No one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary with me—at least no one said anything—so I finished my meal and carried my bowl over to the sink. When everyone was done I started on the dishes, happy to have the solitude so I didn’t have to pretend everything was normal. No one bothered me as I washed each dish by hand then dried them one by one.

As I worked, my thoughts bounced between self-pity that I’d found myself in this predicament, and worry that I wouldn’t be able to get home. After I put the last clean dish away, I headed upstairs. I rested on my bed and thought about the world I lived in now. Everything was definitely different and I didn’t much like it, but it seemed I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

I pictured the hut and the long tunnel I’d passed through the day before. Straining my mind, I tried to think of any hint that I had passed from one universe to another. I remembered when I’d dropped the lantern and it had gone out and how I’d had to light matches for the rest of the way. Maybe I had changed universes during that time. After all, I’d been preoccupied with making sure I could see. I hadn’t really paid attention to anything but the space right in front of me.

It was all too much for me to take in. Rolling over, I curled into a ball, wishing with all of my heart that I was just having a nightmare. I thought about the many times I’d had a bad dream and woken to realize it was all in my head and the utter relief I’d felt when I could think about the bad dream with detachment, because the horrible event in that dream hadn’t actually happened.

Now I knew the exact opposite feeling. This was all too real and I couldn’t escape it merely by waking up. This world was my new reality and I was scared. Dad was gone, taken away by strangers simply because they didn’t like the numbers on the scale. And that decision had forced my family to move to a new town and to barely have enough money to scrape by; at least that was what it sounded like according to Brandon.

What kind of place was this? What other rules were there? What was expected of me here?
How
was I going to survive for two months until I could attempt to get back home?

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew Amy was shaking me and telling me it was time to get up. At first I wondered why she was in my room, but then it all came back to me and a new worry took over as I remembered today was the first day at my new school.

Forcing myself to get out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom and showered, then dug through the closet trying to find a pair of jeans that fit. The Morgan in this world must have been thinner than me because most of her pants were a little too snug.  Luckily she had a couple of pairs that were bigger—maybe they were her fat pants—and those fit me.

 Once I finished doing my hair I headed downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen making breakfast for everyone (except Dad, of course, since he had vanished as far as I was concerned).

“I made some oatmeal, Morgan,” Mom said. “Sit down and eat.”

“What time do I need to leave?” I asked as I glanced at the clock before sitting down. It was seven o’clock exactly.

“We’ll leave at seven thirty.” Mom set a bowl of a steaming brown mush in front of me.

Staring at the goop in my bowl, I grimaced. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Morgan,” Mom said, sighing. “What is it with you lately? It’s like you’ve never eaten my food before.”

“I’m just nervous for my first day.” Which was certainly true, although that wasn’t why I didn’t want to eat the contents of the bowl.

“Try to eat a little at least,” she said, before being distracted by a beeping noise coming from her cell phone. She picked up the device and read something on the screen. “Not again,” she muttered, then looked at me. “Morgan, you didn’t weigh yourself again.”

“What?” I asked, frowning.

She held the device out for me to see and I read the words on the screen:
No weight recorded for Morgan Campbell
.

At first I wondered why her phone would know I hadn’t weighed myself. Then I remembered what Fred had said about the government keeping track of your weight and how you were supposed to use your bathroom scale.

Mom set the device on the table. “You know you need to weigh yourself at least once a week. I don’t know why that’s so hard to remember.” She walked into the kitchen, then evidently noticed I hadn’t moved and turned toward me. “Go take care of it before you eat anything. You know your weight is lower if you haven’t eaten yet.”

I stared at her, this whole thing new to me, not sure what I was expected to do.

“Well go on,” Mom said. “And you should probably strip to your underwear. Every little thing can make a difference.”

Pushing back from the table, I trudged up the stairs and into the bathroom, taking notice for the first time of the unusual item in the corner. I had been too overwhelmed with everything else when I’d been in here before and it hadn’t caught my eye. Still, I wasn’t sure how “they” knew I hadn’t weighed myself. Was there a camera in here, watching me?

Suddenly extremely self-conscious, I looked around, trying to figure out where the camera could be hiding. I had showered earlier. Had someone been watching? The idea shook me to the core.

Forcing down the revolting idea that someone in some windowless room was watching me, even now, I approached the device in the corner. Obviously, it was a scale. The main difference from the scales I was used to was the metal rod attached to the scale, which rose vertically and ended at waist height. A strange device was attached to the rod and I leaned closer to see what it was. From the top I couldn’t see anything so I squatted. It looked like the thing next to the computer, which I had assumed was an eye scanner. I had heard of these before, but had never seen one.

I blinked as I examined it.

“Morgan Campbell. No weight read,” a female voice calmly said.

Other books

Last Train to Istanbul by Ayşe Kulin
On the Spot by Cindy Jefferies
Once Broken by D.M. Hamblin
Lightning Encounter by Anne Saunders
All the Colours of the Town by McIlvanney, Liam
Bronx Justice by Joseph Teller
Leaving Epitaph by Robert J. Randisi
The Autumn of the Patriarch by Gabriel García Márquez, Gregory Rabassa
Rough It Up by Hillman, Emma