Locket

Chapter One.

Her olive skin craved it. She stood exposed to the sunlight taking in its rays, gazing happily toward the sky. The last nine months have been torrential downpours, covering the skies with thick dark clouds. With only a few weeks of sun left, the 10 women expedition set out, during the temporary respite, to find artifacts from the ancient city of Seattle.

The toxic rain that flooded the area forced the survivors to live underground in air-tight facilities. However, the women of the expedition took the respite from the rain seriously. Too long had it been since they felt the sun's rays, they frolicked and explored the area.

"Doc. Doc. Doctor Lopez?" Then touching her on her shoulder shook her from her stupor.

"What, Kelsey?"

"Mo found something interesting. You should take a look."

"Where?" Dr. Lopez asked.

"Over there," the small roundish woman pointed toward two identical-looking bald women with long spears that towered over the women.

Dr. Lopez shuffled her way over to the sight, unprepared for what she was about to see. Kneeling down to the spot she was pointed to, she looked closely; unsure of what was in front of her, she leaned in, poking at it with a stick. It moved slowly, opening up and exposing five fingers, dark brown on the outside but a pale red on the inside. The sudden movement startled everyone, forcing them all to jump back. Dr. Lopez fell onto her butt but was quickly picked up by one of the bald women. She looked up, saying simply. "Dig it out. It is still alive."

Weeks go by as a young woman wearing a long white lab coat adjusts herself in the wooden chair to be more comfortable. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she used her long blue skirt to cover her legs as her long white coat spread itself over the chair. Leaning forward, she examined every inch of his dark skin as he breathed slowly. His deep black hair was thick, unlike anyone she had seen before. His bushy beard was black, but hints of red accented the sides of his face.

Setting her feet down on the floor, she leaned over him, touching his hair, a feeling she could not describe. It was soft and pushed back when you pressed it. Parts of it twisted into the air. Running her hand down his face, she felt his beard. Not nearly as thick as the hair on his head, she smiled at the sensation felt on her hand. Leaning back in her chair, she repeatedly tapped her pen quickly as her imagination ran wild about the man in front of her. Click-Click, Click-Click, Click-Click.

The sound infiltrated his mind while he slept. Click-Click, Click-Click, Click-Click. Lay there, letting his body catch up to his mind, memories of his 5th-grade math teacher clicking her pen as she critiqued his test answers. Her pale, thin face and expressions flash in his mind. Click-Click, Click-Click, Click-Click.

Finally, opening his eyes, dull greyish-brown walls and a white ceiling coated in dark spots greeted him. He tried to lift himself out of bed, but his wrists and ankles were bound with leather straps to the bed, adding to the strange room. He tugged violently at the belts, "The shit is this?" he yelled.

He felt the bed depress on his right side; he turned his head as much as possible to see what made the bed move. A brown face and dark eyes behind circle glasses stared back at him, with little room between her face and his. He pulls his head back as much as he can. Standing up, she clicks her pen. Click-click, click-click….click -click. She tilted slightly to the right, pointing her pen at him.

"You hungry?"

"No, What the fuck?! Where am I? Why am I strapped to the bed?"

He pulled against his restraints, showing them to her. But instead, the young lady sat back down in her chair. Forcefully spreading, her white lab coat hung over the sides of her chair. Her long black skirt covered her shins as she kneeled in the chair. They both observed each other, never losing eye contact.

"Don't worry about it. Are you hungry? You've been asleep for about three weeks. You finally woke up, so I thought you would be hungry." the woman says matter-of-factly. "Wait, what three weeks? What day is it? What happened? I was at home. How did I get here?" he asked, confused. "You were in a coma, tangled up in tree roots. We thought you would run when you woke up, hence the straps."

"Being strapped to a bed by a stranger makes me want to run." He responded smugly while pulling at the straps. Then, after rolling his eyes, they locked eyes again. The young lady was the first to break eye contact. Standing suddenly, she turned to the door.

"Mo-Monique!" Her voice cracked when she yelled out. The latch opened as the door screeched, and a large frame with a bald head and tattooed face emerged through the small door frame. The significant woman had to duck through the door showing her tattooed head. As she stood straight up, her profile became apparent. She was all muscle without noticeable fat on her stout frame, skin wholly covered in tribal tattoos covering her light skin. Her forehead bulged out like a gorilla, replacing her absent eyebrows.

"What the fuck?" The words flew out his mouth before he could stop himself. The petite woman in the lab coat looked up at the stout woman with a proud face. Then, placing her small hand on the large woman's forearm, she declares.

"Yes, Monique is well-bred and is of the warrior class here on our island. she is not the only one." The woman leaned in to whisper, continuing, "She's not the only one. We basically have an army of them. So don't try anything. ok?" Recognizing the threat the monstrous posed, he nodded in agreement, "There's an old saying, Don't fuck with me. I won't fuck with you." He responded simply. The young lady laughed uncomfortably with little understanding of the phrase but got the gist of it.

The large woman stood expressionless, with her eyes targeted at the man strapped to the bed. He looked her up and down. He could see her with a small, skinny man who would love to bury himself in her endowments. He snickered to himself and could not help but smile.

"Mo, unbuckle his straps." Mo's eyes turned to the labcoat lady, glaring at her at first but quickly changing her expression. Then, unwilling to defy her, Mo reluctantly rumbled over to the bed, towering over him before she removed his restraints.

After the leather straps were removed, he massaged his ankles and wrists, where they left imprints on his dark skin, after looking down at the more diminutive lady. "Aye, Labcoat, you said island. What island are you talking about?" He asked while massaging his wrists.

"What's the last thing you remember?" The man stopped, then glared at the woman. "How you gonna answer my question with another question?" he replied. "Boy, answer her!" Monique said impatiently, with her deep effeminate voice. Then, glaring at him with her dark grey murderous eyes, she was visibly upset about his disposition towards her superior. Finally, he stood up straight, staring directly at Mo. "Boy? I 36 I ain't no boy. Who the fuck you think you are?" He said harshly.

Mo advances toward him, pushing the more diminutive lady out of the way. Then, raising her head-sized fist, directing it at him. Dark red steam began to illuminate her body. Taking him aback as he had never seen someone emit red smoke.

His body tensed up, preparing to move without understanding what it meant. Somehow he knew one hit could do massive damage. Speed and agility would be his only advantage with limited boxing knowledge. With conflicting thoughts ravaging his mind, confidence filled his body while he stood his ground.

"You ain't gon do shit." The words came out before he could stop them or even think. His fight or flight reflexes kicked in, screaming to run, but he had to remain calm with nowhere to go. To Fight was the only other option; everything slowed down; he could see every muscle in Mo's body contract as she positioned to throw a punch. Her posture, smell, and mana; he could sense it all.

"WAIT!" Labcoat lady proclaims loudly, freezing Monique. Time returned to regular speed for him. Mo's eyes never lose the fire to punish the male before her. He could still see her mana, a yellowish red like wildfire, pouring off. It was murderous in intent. He could smile uncomfortably, grateful the lab coat lady stopped her. "Mo, stand down."

Mo composed herself, taking a deep breath and stepping back, keeping her eyes locked. The burning fire that was her mana subsided as she stood down..—Lab coat steps in front of Mo, pushing her back towards the doorway. "We are not going in the right direction here. I'm Alexia Lopez, the vice chief medical officer."

Extending his hand out with a smile, Alexia hesitates, looking directly at his hand. He just kept smiling at her with his hand out. Finally, she accepts and shakes his hand.

"I'm Trevor Akorin, no title. Nice to meet you." As he greeted Alexia, he glanced at Mo, giving her a simple smile and wave. "Hey, Mo." Then his eyes wandered around the room. Only a little to look at, stained walls with two small chairs. "Where am I?"

Standing as tall as she could, proudly proclaimed, "Simone City, Part of the Northwest Island territories of the Million Lakes." Mo stuck her right arm straight out in front of her locking her heels together.

Trevor nods his head up and down slowly, giving her a blank stare. "Glossing over the nazi salute, I don't know where that is."

"Nazi salute?" "that is our official military greeting." Shaking his head, then Trevor smacked his forehead with his palm. "You use their salute but don't know who they are? You fucking with me, right? Where's the camera?" he said snarkily.

Trevor looked around the room, carefully checking every corner and hiding spot. There were no mirrors or small domes hiding cameras. Instead, his eyes then fixed on what Alexia holds in her hands. A dark brown clipboard that looked well used with chipped edges, accompanied by a stack of paper. Not a tablet or any technology. On closer inspection, no lamps or lights were in the room, but it was lit dimly, but something was causing illumination. He touched his hand to his mouth, "hmm," he said curiously.

Processing his situation, Trevor then turned his attention to the ceiling. A raging river seemed to be pounding the roof, with constant loud thumping against the building made him pause. "The fuck is that sound?" he pondered out loud.

As he concentrated on the thuds and roaring, it seemed familiar. He had heard it somewhere before—downpours in the south when visiting his cousins during the summer. Then, sitting on the porch sipping sweet tea, watching the rain come down in sheets, slamming against the pavement. The smell of the rain, the steam, the humidity, and the baseball-sized hail created great memories he would never forget.

"It's normal rain," Alexia replies. "Normal rain, that don't sound like normal rain..." Trevor trailed off, shifting his eyes toward Mo; she was staring intensely at him in the background giving off violent vibes. He shrugged off her eyes, turning them toward Alexia; their eyes locked onto each other. Neither could look away as she could not help but give him a simple smile that almost made him forget his predicament. Finally, Mo cleared her throat, breaking the stalemate.

"Am I a prisoner?" He asks, staring directly at Mo, standing silently next to the door, and chiming in with her deep voice. "Yes, y…" Alexia snapped quickly at Mo, whipping her head around, glaring at her, and pointing at the door she quips.

"Mo, one more word from you, and you will leave this chamber. Got me?" Mo responded with silence. Alexia turned back to Trevor, whose eyes widened at Alexia's sudden outburst. He gave her an uneasy smile as he could feel Mo's eyes still carefully watching him. Alexia sensing the tension, interjected, hoping to break the ice.

"Mo found you washed up on the shore about 15 kilometers north. Unfortunately, we don't have complete maps, but we think it was named Se-attle or something like that, but the map is old; it's worn. A lot of knowledge of the previous advanced civilizations was lost after the cataclysm." Alexia said casually.

"Cataclysm? What are you talking about?" Trevor asked as he scrunched his face. "Huh? You do not know about the cataclysm?" Alexia responded while stepping closer to Trevor. He takes a step back, with dark eyes shakes his head negatively.

"How?" Alexia asked as she looked back at Mo, who shrugged her bulging shoulders. "I don't know where I'm at. Last night I ate, smoked a blunt, and fell asleep watching TV. Last night I was in Seattle," He stressed while pointing toward the door.

"Seattle? There is no way you were in Seattle last night because you were here." She gets closer to him so she can look him in the eyes. She reached to touch his cheek but pulled back. "Se-attle, so your saying you were in the village of Seattle?" She asked.

"Seattle was no village. A couple million people live there." Alexia shook her head. "No one lives there now, Trevor. You have been here asleep for weeks now." She said while pointing toward the straps laid across the bed.

Confusion filled his mind as he almost stumbled onto the bed. Trying not to show it on his face, Trevor kept a blank expression but could not help his legs from wanting to buckle. As his eyes shifted from Alexia to Mo as he looked for confirmation.

Feeling like Alexia was losing Trevor, she interjected with the only thing she could think of. "Well, you are still alive. There are less than 100 eligible males here, your get to breed with practically whoever you want." She said with no hesitation. Trevor's jaw dropped. "What the fuck?!"

"Your hair and skin your different than all the males here. They are European, Asian, or like me. But, unfortunately, we only have movies of your kind." Alexia shifted her eyes down to the floor, and her face flushed.

Trevor repeatedly blinked, unable to process Alexia's statement. Finally, he mustered the words. "Fuck, you mean my kind? My skin?" Trevor responded in a deepened voice. Snapping her out of her fantasy, she looked up at him with puppy eyes.

His eyes glazed over as he dropped his head at her as anger filled his mind. "Why ya'll think I want to fuck you all the time? I swear to god, every time I meet a chick, no matter who, she auto-thinks I wanna fuck, when I ain't even thought of it. I got shit to do. I ain't worried bout yo pun-pun."

"But the documentaries? If you need more of your kind to perform, we do not have anyone around like you, but we do have other males. I don't think I am ready for that, though." She replied while breaking eye contact.

Putting up his hands, Trevor was even more confused. What the fuck you talkin' bout?" he asked harshly, forcing Alexia to step back. Anything she said was causing more confusion. Trying to console him, she reached up to place her right hand on his shoulder, like she would with anyone else. "Don't touch me." He said simply, brushing her away. "This got to be a prank or something. You fucking with me, right?"

Alexia touched her pen to her lips as he kept his eyes locked on hers. His dark brown eyes pierced her to the depths of her soul, making her uncomfortable. Alexia peeked at Mo hovering near the doorway. Everything about her changed as red steam began to flow from every part of Monique's body, as irritation became visible on her face. The sight surprised Trevor as he did not know what to think or if he was seeing it.

Seeing Monique about to blow her top, Alexia shooed her away by waving her hand. Protested, she remained in place, but her gaze was toward Trevor. She did not see Alexia's command, forcing Alexia to turn slowly, lowering her eyes at Mo. The big woman opens the door, leaving the room without a word.

Once Monique left, Alexia breathed a sigh of relief, saying, "that series is a good warrior, but sometimes they just don't listen." Then, turning back to Trevor, her heart skipped a beat. His gaze was just as intense as before. After that, she clicked her pen.

Then out of nowhere, Alexia pinched his forearm, twisting to ensure he felt it. Trevor pulled his arm back.

"Yo, for real, Don't fucking touch me. Boundaries."

"I-I'm s-sorry." Alexia pouted. Her small face reminded him of the daughter of a former girlfriend. She would make the same face.

"Keep your hands to yourself, ok." He nodded for acknowledgment from Alexia. She nodded along.

"Now, Alexia, How did I get here?"

Alexia looked at Trevor, clicking her pen. "That is a good question. History class told us that the blacks were wiped from the Islands centuries ago. Yet here you stand."

"Wiped from the Islands? Wiped? The blacks? You best be talking about a family name."

"No. American blacks were exterminated." She added with a straight face.

"Straight up, I don't believe you. You lying."

"What? I'm not lying. It is the truth. I can bring you my history book to prove it."

"Naw, I good, that prolly full of lies too, just like my history book. You good, though. I almost believed you. How many times you practice that?"

"Practice?"

Growing more impatient, as the conversation was going nowhere, Trevor's heart raced, and his breathing became shallow. He had not felt this way since his twenties. He inhaled slowly, counted, then exhaled, repeating the process, quelling the overwhelming panic. Finally, he raised his hands, then laughed, "Aight, I get it. Ya'll got me. It's a good one. Can I go home now?"

Alexia smirked, "Where is home, Trevor? Do you know because we found you tangled within a tree?"

"Seattle."

"Trevor, Seattle does not exist anymore. It was swallowed up by the pacific centuries ago."

Trevor plopped down onto the bed, throwing the leather shackles violently off the bed. Talking to this young woman was mentally exhausting. She seemed to be playing a game, but Trevor could not quite crack the code.

Then, feeling compelled to comfort him, she reached out to try and touch him again. Trevor did not move and allowed her hand to grace his face. As Alexia stroked the side of Trevor's face, she thought of the time she was outside the city's walls. The smells and sounds were unfamiliar, making her feel small and vulnerable.

Overwhelmed by empathy, she sat down next to him. Trevor did not protest as she wrapped her arm around his head, running her fingers through his hair. Sitting in silence, she leaned against him, tucking herself under his arm and placing her arms around his waist. Alexia felt comfortable while burying herself into him. A sensation she had never felt before.

Alexia pressed her ear to Trevor's chest, listening to his heart thumping. Then, she placed her other hand on her chest, feeling it beat along to the same rhythm. Eventually, leaning back on the bed, they fell asleep in each other's arms, losing all track of time and their surroundings.

The door creaked open with a loud clang, followed by a medium-sized head with puffy red hair. Alexia awoke to the screams of the door's hinges swinging open. Unfortunately, she was lying too close to the elephant. When Alexia opened her eyes, the light was dim. All she could see was dark grey fabric. Alexia looks up to see Trevor sound asleep. She intertwined her legs in her sleep, tucking herself into his chest. Her heart jumped into her throat. "Alex, you've been in here for hours. What are you do..."

Alexia pushed Trevor off her as hard as possible, forcing him off the bed. He fell hard onto the floor with a thud. Before Trevor could react, Alexia rushed out of the room without a word. The door slammed behind her, and a loud clunking sound of a lock grabbed his attention. Picking himself off the floor, he rushed to the door, trying to turn the handle. It doesn't budge.

"WHY IS THIS DOOR LOCKED?!" Trevor yelled out as he banged on it with an open palm. The roar of rain in the background grew louder, now accompanied by loud taps against the roof and walls of the building.

Trevor's imagination ran wild with possibilities of where he was. But, to him, only a day had passed. Last night he slept on his couch. This morning strapped to a bed. Pacing back and forth while constantly glancing at the door. His heart raced, forcing him again to stop to take deep breaths. After some time, it worked, but again, anxiety clouded his mind.

Trying to calm his nerves, Trevor occupied himself by working out. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and up-downs, until he couldn't raise his arms. Focusing on counting and breathing helped clear his mind from wandering to dark places. Everything seemed bleak. Only the unknown lay ahead.