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  Tabula Rasa

  Digital Edition

  Copyright 2016 © Kitty Thomas

  All rights reserved.

  Digital Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or shared. If you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Respecting the hard work of this author makes new books possible.

  Publisher's Note:

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Neither the publisher nor the author endorses any behavior carried out by any character in this work of fiction or any other.

  For M.

  Tabula Rasa

  Table of Contents:

  Tabula Rasa

  Author's Note

  Acknowledgements

  Also by Kitty Thomas

  Chapter One

  At some point, right before my memory clicked off, the nightmare fairy must have paid the world a visit. When I opened my eyes, it was twilight, or dawn. I was so disoriented it was hard to tell which. I woke in a pirate ship.

  Wait. Let me start over.

  It wasn’t an actual pirate ship, though that might have made more sense to my addled brain. It was part of some theme park ride that had been separated from the rest of the attraction like a wandering child lost from its mother.

  The boat was big enough for about six adult tourists, each with a couple of sticky-fingered children in tow. The sides came up around me like a giant cradle. Given that the edges were rusted out, that idea didn’t create the serene feelings you might imagine it would. The ship was laid at an angle, almost on one side as if a violent storm had tossed it out of the artificial sea and into the middle of a jungle ride on the other end of the park. The trees around me were thickly overgrown with kudzu vines.

  I reached to touch the top of my head, feeling for a bump or cut, but nothing, just smooth forehead and long hair.

  I sifted through my mind to recall the last thing that had happened, but I came up blank. I tried to pull a familiar face out of my memory bank, but there was nothing. It was like going to the ATM only to find you’d somehow been wiped out overnight. And the bitch of it was, you couldn’t even remember what your balance was supposed to be.

  I mean I knew stuff—general stuff. Like ATMs and pirate ships and amusement parks in a vague sort of way. I had basic concepts and all the tools with which to create a story of a life, just none of the actual details. It was like nothing had been written yet. I was notes on scraps of paper and pub napkins—weird little observations, images, scenery waiting to be formed into a coherent whole.

  The sun sank a few inches lower in the sky, unlocking the mystery of what time of day it was. My head throbbed in echo to my racing heartbeat as if my heart had somehow decided to relocate to my skull. Why couldn’t it have been dawn? Everything was easier to cope with in the light. Even though I knew nothing else, somehow I knew that.

  Why couldn’t I have stayed unconscious just a few more hours? Something—call it a sixth sense or generalized paranoia—told me I didn’t want to face what was out there at night.

  I squinted into the dark bottom of the ship, looking for an unlikely flashlight. I had no supplies, no flashlight, and I had no idea where in the hell I was or how I got there.

  “Hello?” I called out. I was unsure if yelling into the eerily non-fake jungle was a good thing or not but night was fast approaching, and I had a feeling some creepy crawly might eat me if I didn’t find more reasonable shelter. And dear God, please let me have been out here with someone.

  I closed my eyes and hoped for some Amazon chick who knew how to navigate nature in all its many surly moods to just pop out at me with a giant machete and a friendly smile.

  Pounding footsteps darted through undergrowth and brush, moving in my direction.

  I shrank into the corner of the ship, unsure if I wanted whatever or whoever to find me now that I’d made my presence known.

  “Elodie?”

  The voice was male and urgent. Was that me? Elodie? I rolled that word around in my head a bit. Elodie. Elodie. I wasn’t sure if that sounded right or not. Did I look like an Elodie? I was struck with the sudden disturbing realization that I couldn’t remember what I looked like. Was that normal with amnesia? Did I have amnesia? Shit, for all I knew I’d come into the world fully formed in an amusement park pirate ship five minutes ago. It sure felt that way. Or maybe I was an alien sent here on some arcane fact-finding mission. At this point there wasn’t a lot I could objectively rule out.

  The man burst out of the foliage, breathing hard. “Elodie, thank God you’re awake.”

  I remained frozen in the corner, watching him. There was no internal memory jog, no mental spark. I mean, he didn’t look like a serial killer or escaped prisoner or anything, so that was something. Just a regular guy. Athletic. Tan. Good looking, but not absurdly so. Nice voice. If this guy was on my side, I might be okay.

  Were there sides here?

  His eyes held worry as he approached the edge of the ship. “Do you remember what happened?”

  I shook my head. I was afraid to tell him I didn’t recognize my own name, didn’t know what I looked like, didn’t know him. He might not take that well. If we had some sort of involved relationship, that is. I’m not sure how I knew men could be weird about stuff like that, but somehow at that moment it felt really true.

  “I was afraid to move you,” he continued, oblivious to my total lack of back story. “I told you not to climb on the ship. It wasn’t stable enough.”

  “I-I’m sorry,” I said. My voice croaked, and my throat felt like sandpaper. I felt as if my mouth hadn’t formed words for thousands of years.

  “Can you stand? We need to get back to the castle.”

  The castle?

  The stranger’s eyes narrowed. “Elodie, what do you remember? Be honest. You’re safe here.”

  We must be using different definitions of the word safe.

  “Well?” he prodded.

  “Nothing. I don’t remember anything.”

  “What do you mean you don’t remember anything? What’s the first thing you remember?”

  “NOTHING!” I shouted. Did he need flash cards? Anxiety crowded out my ability to think and behave rationally. It felt like bugs were crawling on me. Maybe they were. I smacked at a spot on my arm. It was getting dark fast, and the wildness had clearly overtaken this place. I’m pretty sure I don’t like wildness. I thought suddenly that I should start a list of these things as they occurred to me, but I didn’t have any paper.

  “What do you mean nothing?” he said.

  Come on universe. I couldn’t be stuck out here with somebody smart?

  “I don’t know who you are or who I am. I don’t remember anything about my life!” It came out a little more dramatic than I’d intended, as if there could be a low key way to deliver this sort of information.

  “Is this one of your jokes? Because I can tell you, if it is, it’s not funny. I was scared out of my mind when you wouldn’t wake up.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “A few hours.”

  “I t-think I need to go to a hospital.”

  “That’s not an option.”

  A chill slid down my spine. Maybe this guy wasn’t on my side. Hell, how did I know he hadn’t beaten me over the head with a broken tree branch in the first place?

  “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean it that way. Let’s just get back to the castle. We have electricity there. I’ll explain it all to you when we get back.”


  I stared at the hand he offered. “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”

  He took a deep, measured breath which didn’t reassure me at all. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m your husband. Trevor. Everything is going to be okay.”

  I flinched when he reached into his back pocket as if he might be going for a weapon. But it was just his wallet. He pulled out a long thin paper and handed it to me. It was deeply creased from being folded and kept for so long. There was barely enough light left to see, but it was a strip of photos from a photo booth. Trevor and a woman.

  “She’s pretty,” I said absently, staring at the blonde girl with brilliant blue eyes.

  He laughed. “There’s no conceit in your family. You’ve got it all.” Off my confused expression, he continued, “She’s you. That was our first date.”

  “Oh.” I handed the strip of pictures back to him, feeling suddenly awkward.

  He put them in his wallet and stretched out his hand again. “Elodie? We need to get inside. It’s not safe out here after dark.”

  “But, how do I know that’s really me?”

  “There’s a mirror in the castle. You’re going to have to trust me. What’s the worst-case scenario?”

  “You’re a psychopathic killer?” I said, not sure if I was kidding.

  He rolled his eyes. “And if that’s the case, you’re screwed anyway. Now come on. I’ll explain everything when we get home.”

  ***

  I felt so weak, like my legs had forgotten how to work right. Was that the adrenaline and fear? I had to lean against Trevor and half-walk, half-hobble. The castle rose out of the center of the destroyed theme park, shining like a beacon. It was the only building that had electricity. The dilapidated shops and rides along the way lay in ominous shadows as if they might spring to life and attack at any moment. In spite of myself, I clung more tightly to Trevor’s hand.

  “The castle runs on solar power. It’s the only thing here that does, but it’s got everything we need for a while,” he said.

  What had happened to this place? Why were we even here? I was afraid for us to get inside the castle to find out. Whatever it was, it felt like something... apocalyptic.

  “Just a little farther. It’s safe inside.”

  After helping me out of the pirate ship, he hadn’t let go of my hand, and I hadn’t pulled away. I needed help navigating the unpredictable terrain. I was almost afraid to tell him how weak I felt because I didn’t need him to think I was dead weight. His hand was warm and solid. It was the only thing that kept me solid.

  The castle was enormous and the main hub around which all other things had once revolved. The bottom level was some kind of medieval fairy-tale themed ride. Spiral stairs and an elevator on one side led up to the second floor, which had what were once restaurants and a couple of gift shops. Trevor led me up the steps, past the main restaurant, and to another set of stairs. On the third floor were some hotel-type rooms and an office. A final staircase led to the tower, which seemed to be where we were going.

  I couldn’t get over how weak and wobbly my limbs felt. It was starting to seriously concern me.

  I pulled my hand out of his as we reached the final staircase. “Please, just tell me why you can’t take me to a hospital.”

  I knew already. I just didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t know the details yet, but I knew. It was only morbid curiosity that kept me playing dumb.

  He sighed. “I don’t know if there are any hospitals anymore. Definitely not any close.”

  “What?” I was getting the hang of this dumb thing.

  “Just come upstairs. If you really can’t remember anything, I think you need to be sitting for what I have to tell you.”

  The tower was a fancy suite with a large living area and bedroom that were all one large circular room. There was a connected master bathroom off to one side. Or it had been fancy at one time. Now it was just as abandoned and broken down as everything else. Trevor gestured toward an overstuffed chair next to a window. I sat, unsure I wanted to hear this.

  “You don’t remember anything?” he asked again as if still hoping this was all some game to me. I must be wacky that way.

  “No.”

  “But you remember what the world was like before, don’t you?” The word before held more gravity and weight than the rest of his sentence, more gravity than all the other words he’d spoken to me so far.

  “Before what?”

  “You know about the world in general?” he asked.

  “I... I mean, I guess. Sort of. I think.”

  Trevor seemed skeptical. He sat on the edge of the king-sized bed near my chair. It creaked and dipped under his weight with a great resigned moan of springs.

  “Elodie, the world is gone. More or less.”

  He’d only gotten the first sentence out and already I felt the tears burning behind my eyes. I might not remember my life, but the implications for anybody’s life were already surfacing.

  “Do you know what a solar flare is?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t know how I knew what a solar flare was, but it was in the box of scattered random awareness like pirate ships, theme parks, and ATMs.

  “Okay, there was an enormous solar flare. The last time the world had solar flares this extreme was before such widespread reliance on electricity. This time it knocked out power grids nearly everywhere. Most technology halted. Just-in-time delivery failed.”

  “What’s just-in-time delivery?”

  “Almost everything was running in a way where everything that needed to be delivered to various places from fuel to food was shipped and delivered at close to the last minute, so nothing had to be stored long term. Supplies arrived just as the old ones were running out. With trucks and trains and planes, long term storage of staples and essentials seemed unnecessary to people, and it wasn’t cost effective. And with cities so large, it gets less and less practical anyway. The point is... stores started running out of things... Hospitals ran out of things. People started panicking and looting, and then people started dying. The economy collapsed practically overnight. It was so fast. You can’t believe how fast it was.”

  I just stared at him, trying to process everything he was telling me. Hadn’t I immediately thought something terrible must have happened when I’d woken in a rusted-out pirate ship ride? I mean, that couldn’t be a good sign.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

  “No.” What good would it do to keep things from me?

  “Most of the nuclear plants were safely shut down, but a few weren’t. So there are some dangerous radiation zones out there. The ones that melted down near coasts and fault lines set off huge earthquakes, followed by tsunamis. The whole world was affected, so there was no one to send aid because everyone was struggling to survive. But with world economies collapsing, money wouldn’t have meant much anyway. There are pockets of survivors. We’ll be safer if we can find a bigger group, but for right now, we have supplies for a while. The park was well stocked with non-perishables, and even when we get through that, there’s enough wildlife around here to eat. The important part is that we have access to plenty of clean water here. That’s the trouble with moving on—what to do about water.”

  “How long ago... when... when did this all happen?”

  “A couple of years. Elodie, we’re going to be okay. We could stay here for another year or longer, and I’m already making plans on how we’ll get out and try to find another group of survivors. Don’t worry.”

  “How did you know all this was here?”

  “I didn’t. We stumbled on it. We were lucky. There are some chickens that have gone wild living here. I made a make-shift coop for them in one of the kiddie rides. So we have some eggs and meat I don’t have to hunt.”

  No wonder I couldn’t remember anything. My brain had probably been waiting for any opportunity to fall and blank out everything, just scrub the slate clean and forget such a nightmare ever could have happened. This couldn’t po
ssibly be my life.

  “I really need a shower.” I felt gross and covered in grime from the humidity outside.

  “There’s no running water.”

  Of course there wasn’t. The electricity was fooling me into believing I was in some dingy but workable version of civilization.

  “But, there’s a wide creek that runs under the park; it’s where the water from the moat comes from. We don’t drink that water. We use a well for drinking, but the creek water is clean enough to bathe in.”

  The panic began to ease in, graying out the edges of my vision. “I can’t do this. I can’t live like this!”

  “Elodie, you’ve lived like this for two years. And this is a step up from how it was in the beginning. You were so excited when we found this place. I wish you could remember. It’s hard to see you like this again. You were so despondent when we first had to learn how to survive without the convenience and safety we were used to. But things were getting better. You were adjusting. And now...”

  He leaned closer, and I flinched to escape as he brushed the side of my cheek in a gesture that was meant to be comforting.

  “I-I don’t know you.”

  He sighed and rose from the bed. “I’m all you’ve got.” Before I could determine if there were nefarious undertones or some veiled threat in his words, he said, “I’m going down to the restaurant to make us something to eat.”

  “Which one?”

  “The big one in the middle... The Banquet Hall. It’s got the most working equipment. Come down in a few, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  After he’d gone, I closed my eyes, desperately trying to remember something—anything that could help me make any sense of all this. Or wake up. That would be a welcome option as well. I went to the bathroom to turn on the faucet, already having forgotten there was no running water. I stared at my reflection over the sink.

  She’s pretty.

  I was the woman in his wallet, but I wasn’t feeling nearly as generous with myself now that I was seeing it live and in person. My clothes were grimy and worn. I brushed back my hair and noticed a dark scar on my temple and wondered what had happened to produce it. I seemed to have a few other scars and wondered if they were injuries I’d sustained while here and how they’d managed to not get infected and kill me.