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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2090948-Roseberg-Then-and-Now
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Sci-fi · #2090948
250 years divided her timeline, there is nothing in common
Roseberg, Then and Now

The pain filtered through Evangeline Whitehead’s mind, daring her to open her eyes. She watched the fingers of her left hand curl and uncurl, awed that such a simple act would shoot daggers of electricity up her arm. She dared to take a deep breath only to cough and sputter at the metallic taste that assaulted her taste buds. The cool dampness of the moss like substance was slowly creeping down to her bones, intermixing with the pain from the fall. This was a good thing in that it caused her to alert to the memories that tripped over each other to get to the forefront of her memory.

She had been running through an apple orchard near Roseberg, Oregon, the place where she was shipped to fulfill the terms of being a mail order bride. When she fell, she had the sensation of free falling into a hole with no bottom. She did not know why she was running. Only that she had to. And now this was the result of answering that siren’s call. This surely did not look like the 1858 she left. The rock formations looked familiar. The lake looked familiar. There were no smoke stacks in Oregon. She left those behind when she moved from Pittsburgh to here. She had never seen storms of this color or violence. She had to get out of here.

Evangeline lifted one leg to her chest and then the other, letting the muscles scream as she tested each limb and muscle to see if she could walk or move at all. Each loosening of a muscle, each wince of agony, each deep inhale, left her lungs burning from the rancid air that permeated this place.

Evangeline pushed herself upright as she stared out at the poisonous bleak landscape, chest heaving from the exertion, waiting for death to come. Surely no humans could survive in this place.

Evangeline rummaged in her pocket for a hanky or anything to cover her nose and wipe the tears tracing down her cheeks. No amount of sniffling would stop the nosebleed. No amount of squeezing her eyes tight would prevent the polluted air from squeezing tears out.

“Kate! You are being dumber than a box of rocks. Get your mask on. Now!”

Evangeline was spun around and fell into a man’s arm, and he was not her husband. “Let me go!”

“Fine. Just put your gas mask on. Why did you take it off anyway? Where is it?”

Evangeline quelled her fear of this creature with gray skin and large glass eyes. “I’m sure I do not know what you are talking about. Where am I? What name are you calling me?”

“This is Roseberg. You are my daughter. And here is your gas mask. Put it on.”

Evangeline pushed back the gorge that was forming in her throat. She could not be related to this hideous creature. “I don’t understand.”

Father did not respond. Instead Evangeline had a rubber mask jammed over her face. She struggled to get free as a second set of arms were clamped around her to keep her arms at her sides. Her struggles stalled only when she realized the air behind the mask was breathable. She longed to know how this thing that looked like rubber, did not feel like rubber. And the rubber she was familiar with would not ventilate and push a refreshing breeze through to dry the sweat on her forehead. She no longer fought the men who were shoving her limbs into more rubber suiting. The suiting was wonderful. Without the atmosphere assaulting her skin, she could relax somewhat. This suiting was so unfamiliar to anything she knew. She leaned back into her captor’s arms and let the liquid substance in the suiting take the itch and burn away and leave the coolness of the fabric to do its magic.

“Kate? Is the med suit working? You scared us.”

“My name is Evangeline.”

Evangeline watched the two other suited figures in silent communication by a subtle motion, a twitch, or a movement. Her stomach muscles clinched when they turned in unison to face her. A determination was rendered. On both sides.

Evangeline ran.

“Oh, no, not again!” She was on the emptiness before she knew what was happening, clutching at air as she fell through another tube, silent prayers for a better place softly and rapidly entreated.





[word count:737]

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