About the Author
She lives with her husband and two daughters in the Land of Living Skies.
Connect with Melanie:
Twitter: @McFarlaneBooks www.twitter.com/mcfarlanebooks
Goodreads Author Page: www.goodreads.com/melaniemcfarlane
Read an Excerpt
There Once Were Stars
By Melanie McFarlane
Month9BooksCopyright © 2016 Melanie McFarlane
All rights reserved.
I stretch my arms across my bed, running my fingers along the same sheets I've had since I was a child. The stiffness was beaten out of them long ago, but they still carry the memory of my mother carefully stitching the first tear back together when I was seven. The tiny x's remind me of her long fingers, moving the needle back and forth with the same care as when she worked with samples in her laboratory.
I trace the row of stitches, squeezing my eyes shut as I make a wish; it is my eighteenth birthday, after all. But when I open them, the same scene shows from my bedroom window that always does — the grid of our dome. Nothing changes. It doesn't matter how many birthday wishes are made; I always wake up trapped inside the dome. The grid of thick glass and steel arcs far above our apartment, stretching to where the great Axis, a tower of government offices, meets the peak of our home — Dome 1618.
I crawl out of bed and let my gaze trail down the Axis to the rooftops of the other apartment buildings, row upon row of housing for blue-collar workers. Closer to the Axis are the townhouses of business owners, hidden from the rest of us, but that's not where I long to be. My eyes drift to the base of the dome, far away from my window where the Outer Forest stands tall — my only saving grace. It's forbidden to hike among the trees, but sometimes rules need to be broken.
"Natalia!" Grandmother's piercing voice comes from the other side of my bedroom door. "Get up. You're wasting the day away."
The clock on my dresser reads eight o'clock in the morning. It's been nine years since I moved in with my grandparents, and saying Grandmother and I have differing opinions barely touches the surface. Her rules are sometimes worse than those of the Order, who police the dome. With any luck, I'll be assigned my own apartment soon, and will finally be able to restart my life again.
I run a brush through my long brown hair, which matches my eyes. I don't know why I bother — by the time I go outside it will look unruly once again. It's my curse; I have thick hair like my mother, with waves that look more like oddly-placed kinks, unlike the smooth-flowing locks worn by some of the other girls at my school. But I won't have to go back to the Learning Institute again. Today I'm an adult.
My jeans are on the floor where I left them last night, and I manage to find a clean T-shirt in my drawer. Both have the same tiny stitches as my sheets, covering up the wear and tear over the years, but I sewed these back together myself. Grandmother is firm on the fact that if I don't take care of what I have, I don't get a replacement. There's no point in arguing when her opinions are as deep as the wrinkles on her face, and honestly, it's hard to tell which she has more of. Before I leave my room, I grab my mother's notebook. It's filled with her sketches and work notes on different projects she was involved in. But my favorites are the tiny notes, squeezed in the margins, excerpt of her personal thoughts, hopes, and dreams. The biggest of these was to move her family outside the dome.
"I know you were out last night," Grandmother says, eyeing me suspiciously between the milk and dry toast as I slip into my seat at the table.
"Must we have this conversation every morning?" Grandfather speaks up.
"You know the ramifications!" Grandmother shrills, and he shrinks in his chair. "Do you want to let her stroll around at night past curfew? One day she won't come home, and then we will be questioned." Grandmother redirects her attention to me. "What are you doing out there that's important enough to risk everything? Haven't I warned you? If the Order catches you, you will wish you had listened to me."
"That's my problem." I fold my arms across my chest. She always makes me back down with her words. If I'm going to be an adult, I need to learn how to take a stand.
"If your parents could only see you now," she says unsympathetically. "They would wonder how they got a daughter so determined to get herself detained. You know what they do with little girls who don't follow the rules."
"Yes," I say through gritted teeth. She's given these lectures many times. Girls who don't follow the rules are sent back to the Learning Institute for retraining, where they come out all prim and proper, ready to take their place as functional residents of the dome. I'm not going back there; I know how to stay under the radar.
"Come on, now." Grandfather finally steps in. "It's Nat's birthday."
"Yes." Her tone softens. "You're eighteen now. Hurry and eat; we got you a little something."
I gobble down the toast, stale as it is, but fresh food is not something that our dome has had in a long time. Since the accident that caused my parents' death, the Order stopped all excursions for scientific research, completely cutting off the outside world. Prior to this, there were plenty of rations from the farms due to uncontaminated seeds the expedition teams found, along with new plant life for supplementing the crops. But those stockpiles have slowly depleted.
When I finish breakfast, I look at my grandparents in anticipation. Grandfather's face is beaming, and though Grandmother looks like she is trying to be serious, I can see a small sparkle in her eyes as she hands me a tiny green box with a little purple bow. The bow is smooth, made from fabric nicer than anything I own. I gently untie it, and put the silky strand safely in my pocket, before opening the box to see what is inside.
A silver, heart-shaped locket sits on top of fine tissue paper, so delicate I don't dare touch it in case it rips. An image of two hands holding a smaller heart is engraved into the center of the locket. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen — I've never owned jewelry of my own. My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop the box.
"Careful!" Grandmother's voice snaps me from my awe. She grabs the box from me, and it takes all my inner strength to let it go.
She removes the necklace from the box and opens the locket, revealing a photo of my parents on their wedding day. Photos are luxuries. I only own one other — a photo of me with my parents when I turned three — and it stays safe on my nightstand. But this locket — I can take it with me anywhere. I hold up my hair, allowing Grandmother to secure it around my neck, then grasp the tiny keepsake in my hand. I will cherish it forever.
"I'm going to show this to Jak and Xara," I say, leaving the table.
"Don't forget, you have to report to work today." Grandmother reminds me.
"But it's Saturday." I groan.
"You're eighteen now," she says, her eyes vacant of the compassion they held only seconds ago. "Your time to contribute to the dome begins today. Plus, any experience is good to have if you want to be a scientist one day, like your parents."
"I don't see how cleaning toilets at the Axis will do me any good in the future," I complain. "And I never said I want to be a scientist."
"You'll find where you're meant to be." Grandfather smiles. "Understanding everything from the bottom-up will help you make a better decision about what you want to do to make your contribution."
I sigh as I lace up my sneakers, now feeling the pressure of the future. I have no idea what I want to do today, let alone the rest of my life. But it definitely does not involve cleaning up after those in the Axis. I wave good-bye as I leave the apartment, but only Grandfather waves back. My number one fan; he always tries to keep the peace between Grandmother and I. But no matter how close we are, I still have to lie about where I'm really going. No one can know about my secret place.
Outside, I stretch my arms up toward the top of the dome. The sun shines through the dust covered glass of the dome, with sections of blue sky showing here and there. I sneak around the back of our apartment building, and begin my stealthy weave through alleyways. I have hours before my first shift starts at the Axis. Hours to spend somewhere the Order can't find me.
When I reach the Outer Forest, I sneak in a break in the fence and move between the trunks of trees, inhaling the last of the old world. The rich combination of musk and earth fills my lungs as I run as fast as I can from the fence. Running is one of the few things that make me feel free. When I reach my destination, I'm out of breath, but exactly where I belong — a hidden clearing at the edge of the dome.
I crawl inside a hollowed-out tree I've claimed as my own. How did the Order miss this lone tree, dying amidst the perfection of the Outer Forest? It should have been torn down long ago, to make room for larger, healthier, oxygen bearing trees. Decay doesn't coincide with the Order's pursuit for perfection and efficiency, but it's ideal for me: hidden, empty, and alone. I accept this tree's imperfections and it offers me solace.
I clutch my locket again, this time removing it from my neck so I can look inside. A twinge of pain prickles my throat as my parents' faces stare back at me. They look so happy and in love. I remember that about them. The in love part. I haven't thought about people in love for so long.
I lean back, holding the locket against my chest, intent on enjoying the morning sun. Unfortunately, the heat of the sun doesn't penetrate the cold glass of the dome, but something about that glowing orb in those blue skies makes me feel better. Mom wrote in her notebook about the first time she felt the sun on her skin: warm and, bright, as if it gave her a new life with its rays, just like it did to the world, after the Cleansing Wars. I close my eyes, imagining myself bathed in sunlight, and finally give in to the peace of the forest.
I wake up, feeling something sharp poking my side. I can't believe I drifted off. My hand shoots behind me, to find the source of the pain. My mother's notebook is jutting awkwardly from my back pocket. I stand up to tuck it back in, and my gaze slips above a line of bushes growing wildly along the base of the dome. At the same time, something flashes above them, and my breath catches in my throat. My reflection stares back at me from the glass, revealing my locket shining in the sunlight. Relax, Dacie, it's only you. A nervous laugh escapes my throat, as I finish putting the notebook away.
Another light flashes, but this time it's in the distance, on the other side of the glass. I lean forward, focusing on the light, and see a shadow move on the other side. My entire body goes rigid, and my heart beat thunders in my ears. No one could be out there — unless — could it be an Infected? No, that's impossible. They were all killed by the Cleansing War — everything was. If the nukes didn't kill them, the nuclear fallout afterward would have.
Something moves again — closer this time. A gasp escapes my lips, as a shudder rips through my body. That's when I see it — the faint outline of a person standing in the open. He's camouflaged by a layer of dust, blending him into the barren landscape that surrounds the dome. The figure's shadow stretches across the ground, reaching toward me.
I rub my eyes, as if something in them could be making me see the figure, but when I open them I'm startled to see the figure again, only now there are two. One stays farther back, toward the rockier land, silhouetted against the foothills in the distance. The other stands a short distance from the dome. My heart skips a beat — they're both human, and they're both staring in my direction.CHAPTER 2
I creep toward the glass, slowly forcing my feet to move, not wanting to draw attention. But as I try to control each inhale and exhale, my entire body vibrates in rhythm with the electricity of my adrenaline. This can't be happening. I must be still asleep.
The man closest to me looks up in the direction of the peak of the dome, and my tension eases. They haven't spotted me. I take this moment to check him out; his clothes are covered in the filth of the dust outside and a hood hides his hair. His face is disguised by goggles above a bandana that hides the rest. Everything about them blends into the surrounding wasteland.
They can't be infected. They're much too interested in our dome. At the Learning Institute we were taught about the virus that destroyed most of mankind. People who weren't immune, changed — marked by the telltale scarring of the infection on their skin — a blackened spidery rash. The virus attacked the nervous system, making those infected jerk involuntarily. But the worst of it all was how they viciously attacked anything that moved.
I know it's foolish to think something outside could be an Infected; there hasn't been a sighting since my great grandmother's generation. But I've never seen anyone on the other side of the dome, because of the dangerous radiation left from the Cleansing Wars. I can't tear my eyes away from these mysterious Outsiders who defy all the teachings I have known my entire life. How can they survive the same radiation that killed my parents almost a decade ago?
The hood blows off of the figure in the distance, revealing messy, dark hair on a boy close to my age. He doesn't rush to lift his hood back up. Instead, he removes his goggles, and then does the unthinkable ... he takes off his left glove and points a finger right at me.
I gasp out loud as his partner turns toward me. There's no way they can see me; a foot of shock-proof glass, spotted in dust, stands between us. I'm on the inside, under the broad cover of the dome, protected behind the tinted façade, while they stand on the outside, open to the harsh world that was destroyed long before my time. But still, against all odds, our eyes connect. A smile breaks at the side of the man's mouth as another gasp escapes my lips. My hands jump to my mouth to hold my screams inside. They see me.
He steps toward me, removing his hood and goggles as he approaches the dome wall. His eyes are dark. I expected them to be entirely white, from a combination of sun blindness and radiation. When I was little, I saw an expedition scientist come back like that, skin raw and blistered; her white eyes staring into the nothingness of death. She died soon after, but the memory of those eyes was burned into my brain.
From the other side of the glass, he stares me down as he gets closer. Fear ripples through my body; I am exposed and defenseless. He is firm and unyielding with a determination unlike anything inside these walls. I force a swallow, unable to make myself run or move away.
As he walks, he kicks up the sandy dirt with every step, creating tiny clouds of dust around his boots, and footprints behind him along the undisturbed terrain. When he reaches the edge of the dome, he lifts his hand and places it on the glass in front of me. As if it has a mind of its own, my hand leaves my mouth and reaches out toward him, revealing my fear in its tremors. Our palms touch on opposite sides of the smooth glass, and I brace against it, feeling its security as I stare at the Outsider. His skin is weathered from the elements and to my surprise, nothing protects him; he is fully exposed; I am the one safe on the other side. I finally exhale; there's something familiar about him. Something that makes me feel safe.
Suddenly, he looks sharply to his right, then lets go of the glass and runs. His abruptness wakes me from my stupor, and I instantly duck into the bushes at my feet, where the ends of the branches scratch my arms. There's no way I'm dreaming. Through the branches I see Order members in pursuit. Only, they haven't seen the person who was standing next to the dome. They are in pursuit of the other, the partner, the one who stayed back. It's not too late for him to run, but he hangs back, as his friend escapes.
The partner holds his hands high in the air as the Order surrounds him. For a moment I can't see what's happening as the six armed guards block my view; I've lost the connection. My head floods with questions. Where will they take him? Why is he here? But none are so big as — how is he alive? The group breaks apart, carrying the stranger in the center, hands behind his back as he's dragged to the main entrance of the dome.
One of the Order points in my direction. My heart skips a beat, and an ache shoots through my chest. Can they see me? I cower as low as I can in the bushes, pressing my body against the coarse litter of decayed leaves that cover the ground. The member walks over to the dome, running a finger along the outside before peering through the glass. I hold my breath, so as not to move in the slightest. After a moment, they walk away.
I wait until the group rounds the corner of the dome, out of my sight, before daring to stand up. I brush myself free from debris and turn toward the trees to escape. It won't be safe for me to come back here for a long time, but there's no time to say goodbye as I dodge through the Outer Forest, making my way to the streets of the city, near the entrance of the dome.
Excerpted from There Once Were Stars by Melanie McFarlane. Copyright © 2016 Melanie McFarlane. Excerpted by permission of Month9Books.
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