Author's Name: Heather Carpenter
Genre: SF in a contemporary setting
Stage of Completion: Mostly Polished and Looking to Query
Preferred Critique Style: Mix. Above all I want honesty. Looking for someone strong in big picture stuff like plotting and pacing.
Cat or Dog Person: Dog
Tea or Coffee: Coffee
Jaye was 18 year old Savannah Black. That is, until she woke up in an underground research facility called Eden. She’s been told she’s here because the world outside Eden’s walls has fallen victim to a worldwide airborne virus but Jaye isn’t convinced. When Eden tries to steal her memories and her free will, Jaye realizes she’ll have to ditch her loner persona and team up with others if she has any chance of escaping. But escaping Eden won’t be easy, especially since those who don’t cooperate end up dead. 109,000 words.
I pry my eyes open, dark spots dancing in my vision. A revolving metal fan stares back at me, it’s blades spinning at a lazy speed, the cool breeze welcome on my sweaty skin. The white lights are blinding compared to the fog I’m coming out of. The dream. Me, floating in a thick gelatinous substance, one that clung to my body, hugged me close. Everything within in me jumbled and stuck, sinking beneath me like quick sand. I wipe the sleep from my eye, catch the small red light flashing above the metal door. It speaks.
“7346 is now awake.”
I back against the bed frame, my heart seizing within my chest, oxygen draining from my lungs. Where am I?
Four bare walls surround me, all white, the sterility of it like bleach, singeing my nose. An armchair sits in the left corner and to my right is a small desk, three books resting on it’s metal surface. The only other item in the room is the bed beneath me, covered in white linen. I pinch myself, waiting to wake up, but the pinch only hurts and the room remains the same.
Images surge through my brain: a small girl coughing, people wearing masks, a white corridor. None of them make sense.
The blinking light turns solid red, watching me.
“Hello?” I call out.
The door slides open and a girl with short blonde hair steps inside. Her skin is so fair it nearly matches the pale walls. She smiles at me, checking her clipboard.
“7346, I’m glad you’re awake.”