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  THE PLANTATION

  Book 1 of the Plantation Series

  by

  Stella Samiotou Fitzsimons

  ©2012 by Stella Samiotou Fitzsimons

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  Table of Contents

  About The Plantation

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Author Note

  About The Plantation

  When the light of the human species vanished, there was a girl and a spark.

  A century has passed since they arrived. Human history has been erased. Children are enslaved on Alien plantations. Some have heard whispers of the existence of a rebel band of humans who roam free in the forests. Most slaves dare not speak of the rebels for fear the mutant guards will grab and make an example of them.

  Seventeen-year-old Freya is pulled away in the night not by the mutants, but by her old friend Finn, to join the Saviors, the mythic band of rebel teens. Her bliss fades when she discovers she is the only Savior without a special ability. She is the odd one out, slowly pushing Finn away, defying Damian, the leader of the Saviors, and antagonizing the fierce and beautiful Daphne. In her despair Freya reaches deep within to discover a dark destiny, a truth so heavy it threatens to destroy her.

  Chapter 1

  Everywhere I turn, all I see is black. My vision drowns in cascading waves of darkness. I tread on something soft and slippery. There’s the smell of sweat and drying mud in the air. I hear distant footsteps marching but I see nothing. That’s good, I think. It means they can’t see me either. They don’t know I’m here for them. They have no idea we linger in the shadows, our hearts swelling with adrenaline. Even their slaves fear us as they long for our coming. They hear whispers of our existence, but they don’t dare believe in us. We are their dark hope. We are legend. We are the Saviors.

  “Freya.” I hear my name whispered from afar. “Freya, what are you doing? One, plus one, plus one! Launch the attack now.”

  Theo’s voice, disturbing and commanding, shakes me out of the daydream. I have to concentrate on the task at hand. One, plus one, plus one doesn’t equal three anymore. It equals assault and hope.

  One, I pull the lever to my left.

  Two, I press the red flashing button in front of me.

  Three, I check the numbers on the upper right hand corner of my virtual goggles.

  One, two, three, go time.

  The attack is launched in an avalanche of thuds and lightning. I find myself in the middle of Plantation-9 with at least a dozen weapons pointed at me – mostly tactical pulse rifles, but also two shock bows and a KA-1 Plasmer.

  There’s no time to think. I have to act fast. I activate my shield that covers me like a purple aura. I pull out my pulse gun and run toward the rows of army green tents. I’m shot once, then twice. One more time and the shield will be down. Every shot will count then.

  I take a leap to the left and I duck just in time to avoid a lethal magnetic knife whistling right above my head. I turn and shoot three times. I hit a Sliman (or Slimy as we call them) on the shin. His body writhes in pain for a moment and then he charges at me.

  He’s very tall and built like a rock. He’s strong and he’s got the best hand-eye coordination in the known universe. He can see as well as a hawk and he can run faster than a deer. He’s a genetic mutation designed to take no prisoners—a mix of DNA from three different planets. Yet, he looks eerily human, except for his emerald green eyes and his chameleonic skin that can change color and thickness to better adapt to any environment as to become the ultimate shield in battle. His skin can also breathe underwater for a while through its pores. There’s no easy way to beat this monster.

  Maybe no way at all.

  A second later, I’m dead. Damian won’t be happy. He thinks I never perform to my full potential and he’s probably right, although I wouldn’t admit it to anyone. I have no doubt I will be in trouble when he sees my performance screen. We didn’t start calling him Red by accident.

  I take off my helmet, unbuckle the belt around my waist and get out of the simulation pod. Sometimes I think we are extremely lucky to have found these abandoned alien facilities and to have them function again, thanks to our two tech geniuses: Theo and Zoe. Other times, when I’m calm and adrenaline levels are low, I think we’re playing with fire and we’ll probably live to regret it. Or not. Live, that is.

  “Come back tonight,” Theo says as I hand him the helmet. “I’ll have a new battle for you.”

  Something easier no doubt. “I’ll try, Theo,” I tell him to get him off my back.

  His serious, hazel eyes narrow. “Do better than try.”

  For a sixteen-year-old geek he can be very bossy. I refrain from messing with his hair that’s in desperate need of a trim. I head for the door, saying nothing.

  He sees right through me. “We’re not ready, Freya. None of us.”

  He’s right. We are not ready to go on a real mission, or enter into actual battles – not yet. Least of all me. I am probably the weakest link among the twelve. Damian has said many times that I lack confidence and that confidence improves focus. That’s great, only now I am just focused on my lack of confidence.

  My best friend among the Saviors, Finn, would argue that I am as special as everybody else or I wouldn’t be in the camp. He insists that it takes an enormous amount of courage to even imagine there’s anything outside the plantations, let alone to actually live out here in the wild as fugitives.

  What Finn doesn’t understand is that I believed in the possibility of a free life simply because I was prepared to believe in anything. And everything. It was all a matter of timing and opportunity for me. I believed because I was weak and scared, not because I dreamed of heroic achievements. Finn is always kind and so when I protest like that, he replies that knowing one’s weaknesses is the ultimate strength.

  We have taken to calling ourselves the Saviors. In reality, no one has yet heard of us. We have to change that. Or maybe not. Maybe it would be better if the twelve of us just learned to live in the wild and stayed far away from the Sliman army.

  *

  RABBIT WAITS FOR ME outside the simulation building. I almost forgot I promised I’d show him how to make different types of knots today. It’s one of the few things I’m really good at. Water knots, square knots, Palomar knots, you name it, I’ll make it.

  The old alien facilities consist of eight separate buildings placed one next to the other in a semi-circle with a great open space in the middle that we use for training. We call it the combat ring. A huge chunk of the forest had to be cleared to make room for this construction.

  “What was your simulation score?” Rabbit says, swaying nervously from side to side.

  “Never mind that,” I say. “Did you bring your rope?”

  Rabbit gives me the widest grin. “You mean this?” he says as he lifts his hand, holding a thick piece of rope. “You know I never forget.”

  “Stop bouncing like
that, you’re giving me a headache,” I tell him to scold him, but the truth is I don’t mind his manic energy.

  We leave the facilities and return to the surrounding forest. We take the six hundred steps to our camp at a slow pace, preferring to linger telling silly dreams. It’s easy to do that with Rabbit. He makes me forget the harsh realities of our circumstances. He’s enthusiastic and passionate about the smallest things. He talks about everything that pops into his head, especially the future.

  As we reach the camp, we go straight to my tent. I need to get more rope and strings for our lesson. Rabbit’s tent as well as Finn’s and mine are the only three tents on the east side of the camp. The rest of the Saviors stay on the west side to be closer to the water well and the crops. Our best escape route, an old tunnel, is also located on the west side.

  Rabbit looks tired in his wrinkly brown pants and shirt. He’s got dirt and mud all over him.

  “Have you been running in the hills again?” I ask him.

  He shrugs and I know I’m right. He always goes beyond the south side of the forest despite Damian’s multiple stern warnings. He likes to climb on top of the tallest bluff which provides an open view of the clearing and the facilities below.

  Rabbit is the youngest Savior, barely thirteen, and possibly the fastest creature that has ever existed. He’s undersized for his age and can outrun the wind. Ever since we read about a cheetah in an ancient book, he dreams of traveling to the far off land where cheetahs once roamed free. Unlike the cheetah, and lucky for us, Rabbit can go beyond a twenty second sprint and survive. Needless to say, he is the only one among us who could outrun the Sliman guards if it ever came to that.

  We sit on the ground outside my tent. There’s a pleasant afternoon breeze helping to battle the heat. Rabbit talks almost as fast as he moves and he somehow manages to make sense today. It’s not always the case.

  “I can’t wait for the time we make our move on Plantation-6 and I find Kicky and Mendy and get them out of there. Their eyes will fall out when they realize it’s me,” he says with a chuckle.

  Plantation-6 was Rabbit’s plantation. The place where he was harvested, trained and severely punished every time he made a mistake. That’s the way we were all treated at our separate plantations.

  His friends, Kicky and Mendy, were in fact called 6-57849A76 and 6-57940A57, according to Rabbit. We have all been tempted at one time or another to give names to our long lost friends from the plantations. We can’t help but imagine the day when we will free them.

  The alien invaders that run the plantation system do not permit names. Our names were the numbers they tattooed on the back of our necks. That’s also the reason we were not allowed to have hair longer than two inches in the plantations. Those numbers identified us to the Sliman guards as well as what work detail we belonged to.

  There are fifteen plantations in the district. We know nothing of the rest of the world, or even if there’s anybody alive outside the plantations and the breeding villages. We wouldn’t even know there was a world beyond what we have seen if it weren’t for the library ruins in Lost Town, a place the original Saviors happened upon years ago.

  I shake my head at the painful memories. I try to concentrate on the rope in my hands as I begin to make a water knot for Rabbit.

  Everything else in our district has been destroyed, pulverized, brought down by the alien invaders and their mutant army, the terrifying Sliman. To survive, we have to stay out of their way as much as we can, avoiding the areas where they have surveillance cameras and radars, and being extremely careful not to run into a patrol. The aliens might not know our plans or what we call ourselves, but they are aware of our absence and we are forever hunted.

  Rabbit knows as well as I do that we’re nowhere near ready to take over the plantations and free the tens of thousands of children that are trapped in them. He just likes to talk about the future as if it were a part of the present. It helps him stay focused and aggressive, and sleep like a baby at night.

  He manages to make a perfect artillery loop a second after I show him how to do it. His fingers are as quick as his legs. He’s been growing by leaps and bounds and I don’t mean that as a joke. Finn and I have kind of adopted him. Rabbit likes our company and we like his. He listens to us and treats us with the utmost respect, something that I, at least, could use more of.

  When I am being totally honest with myself, it’s painfully clear that the other eleven Saviors have special attributes and skills that have made them destined to be a part of this rebellion. I’m just Finn’s friend from the plantation days. A lucky byproduct of his generosity.

  When Damian and Daphne show up, Rabbit and I are both surprised. Those two don’t usually visit with us, at the wrong end of the encampment that’s too close to the thick part of the forest, and too far from the facilities and the underground tunnel that could be used as an emergency escape route. I guess it’s their way of showing their disapproval. They have warned us that it is not safe just about a million times.

  What they don’t get is that our little spot is cooler, especially at night, and the deer we have befriended look to us for food and water. We are their protectors and when they run, we are alerted of possible danger. We are happier here and we feel totally safe.

  One look at Daphne and I know what she’s thinking. It’s written all over her face. Tying knots instead of training or doing chores. I’m sure there’s no doubt in her mind that she could salvage Rabbit if only she could have a week alone with him and away from my influence.

  “So this is how the alien empire will fall? With a few lengths of rope?” Daphne says. She has such an arrogant smirk on her structurally perfect face.

  All I can do is roll my eyes at her and finish the noose I have been tying ever since I saw her approaching. I’d like to snap those long legs of hers, but to do that I’d have to be as strong as Damian.

  “It might take everything we have to win back the world,” Damian says, keeping the peace, “including a few lengths of rope.”

  Daphne’s smirk fades. She has never liked me and I cannot say I am especially fond of her. I have to admit she is more than just a pretty face and long legs. She is easily the strongest girl I have ever seen and she dominates most of us in training with just about every weapon. More importantly, her psychic powers could prove essential in avoiding future strategic mistakes for the Saviors. It frustrates her to no end that her powers do not work on me.

  “If you are so interested in what we do in our camp, Daphne,” I say, “why don’t you move out here with us?” I throw the freshly-tied noose over to her. She holds it up and realizes what she’s holding. “We could easily make some room for you out here.”

  “You’re such a child,” Daphne says, tossing the noose aside.

  Damian shakes his head. “Meeting in twenty minutes in the Armory,” he says. His face fails to hide a certain degree of amusement. Well, he certainly hasn’t seen the simulation scores for the day yet.

  Damian is our leader and the oldest in the group. He just turned twenty which probably makes him the oldest free person in the world, or at least in our part of it. He can really get on my nerves and in my head but I guess those are good qualities in a leader. I do wish he’d exhale more and smile a little.

  We do not know if there are other plantations or other rebel groups outside the world of our district. Toxic craters filled with mud surround the plantation district and prevent us from ever leaving it. Our previous leader, Cal, had walked all the way to the perimeter and seen it with his own eyes.

  I barely knew Cal. I had only been at the camp for a couple of months when he died. I had been liberated by Finn, Damian and Daphne. Finn had promised he would come back for me when he escaped Plantation-8. He was like a big brother to me and now he’s my best friend. His word has always been as good as raw honey on a small wound. Faith in another can make you heal.

  For all intents and purposes, Damian is the only Savior leader I have ever known. H
e’s tall and stronger than anybody I have ever encountered. His strength rivals the Sliman. He understands strategy and tactics better than any of us and, if you believe Daphne and Zoe, he has a brutish charm. As for me… let’s just say he’s hard to ignore.

  Rabbit blasts away from our camp in a blur before I can even get up. All three of us watch as all that’s left behind is a few fallen leaves floating back to the ground where his feet had been.

  “I’ll be there,” I say, gathering up the various knots Rabbit and I have tied.

  “Don’t be late,” Daphne sneers at me. “Given your track record, I wouldn’t be surprised if you missed the one meeting that concerns you most.” She follows Rabbit’s path with long strides. Her behavior is a little more bizarre than usual.

  Damian stands in front of me. “Nothing has been decided. We wanted you to participate in the process,” he says with an unexpected tenderness. Damian usually has no patience for me.

  “Damian, what is it?” I say, growing more than a little concerned.

  My question confuses him. “I thought you knew. We thought Rabbit would have told you.”

  “Told me what?’ I ask as a sinking feeling hits my belly.

  “Finn is missing.”

  Chapter 2

  Finn left the camp two days ago. He volunteered to go out and scan the perimeter around the encampment within a two-mile radius and chart down any noticeable changes or unusual activity. Finn is always the first to volunteer for stuff like that.

  Why does he constantly have to put his life in danger? Why not let Damian or Daphne take charge for a change? They are both better skilled and stronger than Finn. They have more experience than all of us as they are two of the original Saviors. Finn is the one with the sense of duty though. Damian is the leader but Finn is the eternal protector. He wants to shield everyone from harm and secure their safety. It’s what drives him.

  It shouldn’t upset me that he’s willing to take risks. We are all in danger as long as we breathe. There’s no escape from that. My reaction is a little hypocritical, because of what we are, but also because Finn has protected me all my life and I’ve never complained about that. Finn is the only reason I belong with the Saviors at all. Where he is, I should be. This may be the only thing I know for sure.