The Circadia Chronicles: Omnibus: The Complete Colonization Sci-Fi Series by Heather Heckadon (portable ebook reader .txt) 📕

BACK AT THE CRATER, not everyone was as supportive, but they followed orders and packed up. Just before leaving, I grabbed the softphone and called a local news crew from back home in Chicago. I was told that my phone call was not priority and that I could leave a voicemail. At first, I wanted to hang up out of anger, but instead, I waited for the tone to start my message. I thought for a moment, then spoke. “My name is Aella Toms. I was one of the first colonists on our neighboring planet, Circadia. My friends and I are here and we’re in trouble. Leslie Marshal has become a dictator here and has hired an army to eradicate us. We are holding on for as long as we can, but we are losing hope. We need help,” I said. “Please.”

I disconnected the softphone and looked around at my surroundings. I wondered briefly if that would be the last time someone from Earth would hear my voice and whether or not they would even care. Wondering what life was like on Earth at the moment was a distraction I wasn’t sure I needed or regretted. It could be one of two ways. One, they could be happy living their lives and blissfully ignorant to our efforts and hardships here on Circadia, or two, it could still be hell from the fallout of the nuclear war, with the world leaders aware of our turmoil without a care for our safety or the future of Circadia. It was difficult to think about the stark differences of the two situations and be completely oblivious to the truth, but Regardless, I began the trek up the crater walls with my colleagues towards an unknown part of the new world. For better or worse.

Reaching the top, I looked up to see the entire group waiting for me, parting to make a way to the front to lead. I stood up and forged ahead. I waded through the darkness, the brush in front of us only illuminated by the faint light of the half moon and Earth’s lights. Every step was a struggle and walking quickly became exhausting. We were blind.

Stopping for a break, everyone panted and drank from their canteens that had been fashioned out of the scrap metal laying around from the breaking apart of the pods which had brought us here. Barely able to see the faces of the people directly in front of me, I gave up. I sat down in the dark without talking, as did everyone else. We sat like that for a good while, until we heard the engines again. Far enough away to not worry, but close enough to get moving again. Trudging ahead, we were silent as we listened to the ATVs search the woods we once inhabited.

I imagined Leslie’s crew finding the crater and realizing that we were no longer there. The image of their growls and screams became vivid. The thought of them trying to figure out what our next move would have been plagued me, and I urged the group to move faster. “We need to move,” I said.

Smith gave me a sideways glance.

“What?” I asked.

“People are trying as hard as they can. They’re moving as fast as they can. It’s dark, the terrain is rough...” he said.

“Smith, do you not get it?” I asked. I was offended and upset. “If they find us, not only do we lose Circadia, but we’re probably dead. Do you get that?”

“Yes, I get it. Everyone here gets it. Everyone here is scared just like you. Just know that they’re trying their best and keep encouraging them. If you’re gonna be their leader, you have to stay strong. Even when you’re scared. Do you get that?” he asked.

While what he said pissed me off, I got it. He was right. I just hated hearing it from him. I needed to stay calm and be an example. Moving to the front of the group, I yelled, “Let’s go, guys! We got this, we just gotta keep moving and they can’t touch us! I know you’re scared but we’re fine. We just have to keep moving!” Everyone welcomed the encouragement and moved a little faster behind me. Throwing a glance towards my back, I caught a grin sliding across Smith’s face.

Walking for hours upon hours, the scenery of Circadia unveiled itself the best it possibly could in the days of darkness. The skitters scurried through the trees, their eyes glowing yellow in the few lights we shined to lead us. We walked passed many lakes along their banks, and along the creeks, occasionally glimpsing movement in the water from an unknown source.

“Stay out of the water,” I yelled back. No one answered or asked questions, they just nodded and kept moving.

Once the group groaned to a slow crawl, I finally caved. We were no longer making any progress, just grinding our bodies into the dust without reason. Smith caught up with me from the back of the pack the best he could, limping the entire way. “You think it’s time to stop?” he asked. His face was red and he was guarding his left hip with his hand.

I stopped and looked him over. Glancing over towards the rest of the group, many appeared worse than him. “Yeah,” I said. “We probably better stop for the time being.”

“Alright everyone,” Smith called out, “we’ll stop here and make camp. Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be moving again soon.”

Groaning and moaning from the group commenced as they began to make themselves as comfortable as possible in the tall flower weed. Supervising as everyone laid their heads down for a rest, it was pleasing to see that the flower weed concealed almost all signs of the entire group while they stayed low to the ground.

Creeping away from the rest of the group, I