The Tempest by A.J. Scudiere (best books to read in your 20s .txt) 📕

long at all. Though he stalked slowly closer, when the tiny creature arrived at her fingertips, instead of sniffing, he literally jumped into her hands. He couldn't weigh more than a pound.

“I'm sorry I left you. I thought you’d found your Mom.” She felt the old tug of wishing the kitten could have found his mother. Joule knew what that felt like.

“You have to not walk away in the future,” she admonished. Likely, he’d just had to pee.

She felt more than heard the purr as the tiny creature began to vibrate.

“Well, fuck,” she said to the open air, though she tried to say it with a smile, not wanting the kitten to feel bad. “I guess I've got a buddy now.”

He snuggled deeper into her hands, as if echoing the sentiment. But it was nice, she thought, having something alive to hold onto.

Turning, she continued on her path, convinced she had heard water. She wasn't normally one for drinking from streams, but the protesters had claimed this water was pristine and they were hell bent on protecting it. Of course, maybe it was full of mining or factory runoff and they were hypocrites. But right now, she didn't think she had much choice. Also, she suddenly had a kitten to look after. Damn, he needed a name.

In a moment of whimsy, she wondered if she could get him to sit on her shoulder. Sure enough, after a little shuffling to convince him to try it, he took to the perch like a parrot. She waffled for a moment on whether she should name him Polly or something pirate-y. In a flash of foresight, she realized an adult cat would likely not continue to ride on her shoulder. She immediately followed this thought with the fact that she would not have an adult cat. She was merely a foster.

Joule repeated this internal monologue several times, as though knowing it was a losing battle. But she picked her way forward through the tall grass, glad to have her tiny companion back.

“Alright, Toto, we are on our way.” She spoke it out loud again, as though the kitten would understand. “Let's see if we can find some water.”

It was ridiculous, as the kitten most likely did not comprehend English. But as she looked around, wondering if she should be embarrassed by it, she realized that if someone was close enough to hear her voice, that would be a good thing. Finding another person would be a dream right now, particularly if it was a person who knew where water was.

The cynical side of her was betting that she was fifteen feet away from one of the amazing local Mexican restaurants and that she could not only have water, but a coke, chips, fresh queso, and ….ohhhh. She was probably walking the wrong direction.

But she'd heard nothing to indicate that there were even people, let alone a sit-down restaurant, nearby. And she had to make the smart decision, which was to aim toward the water.

The tiny kitten meowed as she moved along, as if telling her which direction to go. That part was amusing but, if she stumbled, Toto dug his claws into her shoulders.

“Ouch!” She said it like a scold, but he expressed no remorse.

Maybe she shouldn't have put him there. When she tried to pull him down, he dug in tighter, seeming to enjoy the view.

Joule had not had a cat before, and she was coming to realize they communicated through meows and claw use. She left him on her shoulder. The razor sharp talons were quite effective.

In a short time, she reached the edge of the trees. Though she was confident no one was around, anyone watching her—any satellite footage or any way they were spotting people—would lose sight of her when she entered the woods. Turning, she looked back at the field. She had cut a clear path, but that would end here at the packed dirt and old, fallen leaves of the forest floor.

She needed to leave a sign.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, she stepped into the shade of the trees. As the leaves overhead blocked the sun, she wondered if she could manage to stay aimed in the right direction. Well, in the same direction at least, as she didn’t know if it was the right one. Lord knew, anyone could get lost in the woods quite easily.

With a sharp intake of breath as she realized she’d missed a major check, she patted herself down, feeling for her phone, or anything else that might be useful. When she’d come to in the field, and her head crinkled when she moved it, she hadn’t been thinking clearly.

She wondered again if she might have a concussion.

Joule consoled herself that she was thinking relatively clearly now, so it would at least be mild if she did. Still she checked every pocket on every piece of clothing, hoping to find her phone.

It wasn’t there, not in her back pocket or one of the side pockets of her cargo pants. Almost panicking, she turned back, gazing toward the center of the field, where she’d first regained consciousness. But she couldn't quite see where that point was.

Was the phone there? Lying in the impression she’d left when she came to? She hadn’t even thought of it, and maybe it had slipped out of her pocket and was sitting in the grass nearby.

Joule stopped herself before running back to check. She didn’t even know if she could find the exact spot where she’d landed. Surely, there was a Joule-shaped indent in the tall grass, but could she find it? And, if she did, what were the odds that her phone was waiting there? That it had survived being tossed around by a tornado? That it had either stayed on her person or landed in the field near her and was still usable… those were very low odds. In fact, she thought, there was every possibility cell service was entirely out of commission right now.

She decided