Traverse Book I

By Tomer Perry

Eighty years after the earth was consumed by Nuclear Genocide a totalitarian society thrives two hundred feet above the earth's surface in Skydomes. Max, an orphan, discovers his past and the truth about the Great War as he sneakily investigates remnants of underground bunkers that once held the fortunate survivors of the war. Across the oceans and hidden away from the Skydomes reach lives a small native community protected by a humanoid races technology. Kina the survivor of a nearly extinct alien race was sent to earth to grow to her teenage years, train and return to her home world to fight for its survival. Follow these two unlikely heroes as they battle for survival of each of their races existence in the known universe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tomer Perry
• Release date: Apr 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476199573

Tomer Perry

Tomer Perry grew up in Long Island, New York and spent his youth in Fair Lawn New Jersey. He is a current resident of New Jersey where he lives with his wife and two dogs. They are expecting their first child in July. His passion has always been exploring different writing methods and urges everyone to always nurture their imagination. He spends most of his time with his wife and dogs enjoying the prospect of becoming a new Dad.

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Traverse

Book 1

Second Edition

By Tomer Perry

Copyright 2012 Tomer Perry

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Journal Entry October 23rd

Journal Entry November 23rd

Chapter 1 Max

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Kina

Chapter 6

Journal Entry November 28th

Journal Entry November 30th

Journal Entry May 6th, 1 A.N.D.

Chapter 7 Max

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12 Kina

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17 Max

Chapter 18

Journal Entry July 4th, 7 A.N.D.

Journal Entry February 9th, 4 A.N.D.

Chapter 19 Max

Chapter 20

Chapter 21 Epilogue

About the Author

Journal Entry October 23rd

You will not believe the day I had today; one minute I am playing a shooter game on my Xbox 360, and the next, mom opens my bedroom door, throws a suitcase at me and says pack, quickly, we have to get to a bomb shelter. Growing up with two military parents, you would think I would have been better prepared to take orders. MOVE! she yelled, apparently not. I grabbed the suitcase, threw some clothes in, and ran out of my room. By the time I got downstairs, mom already had two suitcases next to the door; she was headed back upstairs with an empty suitcase in her hand. The TV had that annoying noise playing to the tune of the emergency broadcast system. Breaking News the news man kept repeating, the beeping sound lowered to just background noise. I turned toward the TV, the news anchor was sweating profusely; breaking news was scrolling across the bottom of the screen a second explosion was detected in central China, a few miles west of Xi’an city, followed by a third off the coast of Mexico just below Acapulco.

At first I thought I was watching a movie or something. Images flashed on the screen of the two explosions captured by the Hubble Space Station, as the reporter continued if you are near any bomb shelters, seek them immediately. The reporter carried on, but mom grabbed my suitcase and pulled me outside by the back of my shirt before I could hear anything else. While turning, I stumbled a little, leaving the house to see that there was a military jeep waiting outside for us. The jeep was just like in the movies, it had camouflage green paint, huge black tires, four roof mounted flood lights and a driver in full gear with an assault rifle pointed up toward the ceiling, resting in the center console. Mom practically threw me and a suitcase in the back seat of the jeep and ran back to the house to get the other suitcases. I sat up and started to ask the guy in the driver seat what was happening, but mom threw two more suitcases at me and shut the door as she climbed into the front passenger seat. The military driver popped the jeep in gear and floored it before mom had a chance to shut her door. Panicking slightly, I was nervous, confused; a hundred different thoughts at the same time! Was this really happening? I shoved the three suitcases away from me and tried to buckle in, but the guy took off crazy fast. Mom tossed the other suitcase in her hands onto the pile next to me and clicked my belt in place before she buckled herself in. Again I started to ask what’s going on, but I felt like I had no air in my lungs. My mouth was dry and I felt like I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, the sight outside my window caught my attention and numbed me to silence.

Every house we passed had people running frantically, putting suitcases in and on their cars and running back and forth into their houses. I started to turn around in my seat to look out the back window when the guy driving laid in on the horn and swerved the jeep, the jolt made me sit up straight and stare outside the front windshield; with his right hand, he flipped three switches on the dashboard, making the red lights flash on and off in sequence from the top of the jeep, then the sirens started blaring. We must have been going over a hundred miles per hour because we were out of town and onto a highway in no time! Five minutes later, the jeep slowed down and went off-road, taking a dirt path next to highway mile marker 136. I tried to look out the sides and back but we were picking up so much dirt, I couldn’t see anything except what was in front of us. Before I knew it, we were pulling up on base. The jeep slowed through the base, moving swiftly in between a guarded and rope lined path. Behind the ropes, were so many military and non-military folk everywhere I was surprised we didn’t hit anyone on the way in. Mom reached over the dashboard and flipped the switches off, but the sound didn’t stop, in fact, neither did the blinking red lights. It took me a few seconds to realize that the remaining sirens and flashing lights came from several posts loitered among the crowds, everywhere.

The driver pulled up to an area with six or seven waiting guards and got out of the jeep, opened the back door behind his seat and pulled out some suitcases. Mom and I got out, she immediately grabbed my hand as the driver escorted us around a huge crowd of people and through a gated area. I looked over my shoulder on the way in and was amazed to see so many people, all pushing the roped barrier to its limit. I saw hands waiving and stretching over each other, almost like a riot. People were screaming, crying, pushing and begging the military personnel, who were trying to contain the crowd, to let them in, or take their children. Mom tugged on my arm a little and I looked forward again, just in time to see the bunker entrance; it looked like an oversized bank vault door that was partially open and swung inwards to the left, it was made of thick steel, painted brown to match the mountain it was set in; it must have been 20 feet tall and at least fifteen feet across. We walked through the slightly opened vault door; I turned around to see the back side of the massive entrance. The inside of the metal door had big wheels, all interlinked that moved large cylinder shaped pins that looked about as long as a couch and as wide as my head. The frame that held the door was also a painted metal with holes to fit the pins and hold them in place. Inside I felt cold, almost like walking into a refrigerator. All the walls and even the ceiling looked like concrete, a long large concrete walkway tucked into the mountain. I walked away from the opening and stumbled a little as I noticed the floor was sloping downward deep into the mountain. I caught another glance at the disappearing crowd and the horror of it all began to set in. Where’s dad? I asked shakily, but mom didn’t hear me; she let go of my arm when we entered the opening and was still moving faster down the hall. I had to run to catch up with her. Where’s dad! I said again this time yelling. Down stairs, and keep up she yelled back. Her voice sounded so strained, it made me wonder if she was scared too. When I finally caught up, I held her free hand; she had slowed down a little.

We were ushered, still by the driver, to the right and into a bigger room with many other families. Mom and the driver dropped the suitcases in a corner; he turned and exited back into the main hallway. Mom turned to me and sat me down on my suit case, she knelt next to me and placed both hands on my shoulders wait here and don’t move, I’m going to find your father. she hugged me, turned around and went back through the door we came in. I watched her leave the room and started to look around. Groups of families were huddled together, holding each other, whispering to one another. My mind started to drift, wondering what in the world could be happening that could force us down here. I was shivering from a chill that went down my spine and really starting to get scared now. This room was different; it looked like it was made out of metal, even the floor looked like metal, no windows, only more doors heading in each direction. Pipes and wires were running across the ceiling, only when I saw the speakers in the center of the room, did I realize someone was giving out commands and inspirational words, repeating phrases like stay calm, all children report to your parents or find any military personnel to assist you.

Mom and dad quickly walked through the main door and headed straight toward me. Dad looked exhausted and mom looked worried, they both hugged me and at the same time said everything is going to be ok. Anytime someone says everything is going to be ok, something is definitely not ok. Dad told me that the first nuke hit somewhere in Antarctica, it was a nuclear bomb! I told him about what I heard on the TV and what the news anchor said, dad just nodded his head, then he told me that another two were launched from Iraq; one hitting Italy and the other prematurely exploded in the air just above the launching base, wiping it out and causing a chain reaction of explosions in an underground missile base. Four more nukes were released from an unknown Russian base, but he did not know where they hit. The squealing and screeching sound of the large entry door shutting in place and the hissing and turning of the wheels on the door, locking it in place turned our attention to the door we all came through as it shut automatically. Other doors were slamming closed; the loud noises of people running around began to lessen as more doors were being slammed shut. The huddled groups of families around us were now the only noise we could hear, talking amongst each other when an alarm sounded and broke the low whispers, five long beeps sounded through the speaker box. Mom and dad looked at each other, felt as if they were having a private conversation in just that look. A yellow revolving light began to flash, and everyone in the room fell silent. I didn’t realize my heart was beating so rapidly until I could hear it in my ear; my blood pumping furiously. It seemed everyone was looking at the speaker box waiting for an all clear or more instructions, but no sound followed, just the yellow light. A small cough from a girl across the room broke the silence, she looked around my age, the sound made dads shoulders slump a little and look around. No one spoke, no one moved; it felt like everyone held their breath. A long beep tore the silence and we all jumped a little, I didn’t understand what we were waiting for.

When the first of the bombs went off, the explosion rattled the bunker and all of us felt like tiny pebbles in a vigorously shaken bag. We fell to the floor; dad covered our heads with his body, shielding us. My ears rang and mom held me so tight, I had to adjust to breathe. Silence fell for only a few seconds before another volley of explosions erupted overhead, I could hear some screams that seemed far away over the crashes and the ringing in my head. I looked up from the floor only to see another girl much younger than me, screaming wildly. A few more tremors were felt, and silence filled the room again. We all waited, dad still looming over mom and I, we waited for, well…more. So apparently we, as in the world, can’t settle our differences anymore by just shooting each other, we have to blow everything up! When the ringing in my head finally stopped, I overheard parts of conversations from groups next to us about a nuclear genocide or something like that. I bet some religious group somewhere is jumping up and down yelling I told you so! to each other.

Announcements were coming through the speakers again as we sat up; mom collected our scattered suitcases. My head felt like a ripe melon and my ears were noise sensitive. A military woman was walking around giving out a piece of paper with words and numbers on it, she handed ours to dad exchanging a very worried look, dad took the paper and read it quickly; he handed it to mom and she started to cry. I quietly asked when we could go home, she gave me a small smile as she handed me the paper. I turned it over and read, it said that each family was assigned a room to sleep in for the night, and more information will be provided in the morning. We got up, gathered our luggage, and moved through the door opposite of where mom and I initially entered. The room held many people and many bunk beds. I looked at the paper again and below the single statement, the paper read: Bed 37 – 39. We walked over to the beds and settled in for the night. Oh…lights out.

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Journal Entry November 23rd

Mom found you yesterday, and said that it was a really good idea to keep writing in you. So let me fill you in on what’s been going on over the past month since I wrote in you last. Every morning all personnel, meaning people, all sort of became militarized, in the bunker. We go to a morning check-in, in a classroom designated as homerooms and the person in charge takes a head count of all the people. Everyone has to attend head count and receive an assignment for the day. Last week, DeShawn Everetts decided not to show up for head count as he and some girl thought it would be funny to make-out in one of the restricted rooms. Since his parents were at head count, they confirmed that he was alive when they left their room, so the woman in charge called her superiors, and they locked down all homerooms, and went searching for the two missing people. I think they really locked us down because it was a high ranking official’s daughter missing too. Well they made an example of them, and now they are probably making-out and peeling potatoes together in the prep kitchens. That thought made me not want to eat anything made of potatoes all week!

Assignments are handed out to everyone, every day. Mine and all kids from age five through eighteen always say Attend lessons until 4pm. You are allowed free time from 4pm – 10pm with parental discretion, and curfew is at 10pm for all non-military personnel. We all received military dog tags for identification that must be worn at all times, and if caught without ID, well let’s just say the punishments are severe around here. Dad says tags will keep track of everyone in the bunk and be used mainly for identification, plus they are handing out assignments like this to keep order and give everyone something to look forward to every morning. Only a few higher-ups know everything that happens on a day to day basis, and we don’t need to know more than the basics.

And what are the basics? How about, we are stuck here in this bunker for 30 years! No TV, no radio, and I am sure that within a few months I will know all 2,318 residents of bunk #058. That’s right, our bunker has an identification number too, I’m now known as T. Mitchell or 738-07-8110. Our bunker number was determined the second week we got here. One of the technicians was broadcasting on two way radios and made contact with another bunker. After a week of back and forth, we finally received bunker number #058. I wonder how many more were added since. I asked mom why we were using our social security numbers for identification when we blew everything up on the surface, she said to maintain our historical connection to a life we once had and that the military has been using social security numbers as identification since the late 1960’s. Let’s see, what else did I learn…? Oh, levels 1-3 are restricted and so are levels 18 and 19. That’s when I found out that we only had 19 levels. I haven’t even been past level seven! My living quarters are on the sixth level. The level below is the main commissary and supply store. We don’t use money down here, but everything in the store according to mom, must be put to good use, since we can’t restock our supplies for 30 years. I try not to ask many questions anymore, one time I asked my first period instructor on why we are stuck down here for 30 years, and she gave us this long speech about radioactive fallout and a dust cloud covering the Earth’s surface probably for a few years depending on the scale of the attack; she said a lot more on the subject, but I didn’t really understand most of it.

Mom says that my lack of interest in what happened is just shock, and will wear off in a few days. I don’t know what she is talking about, the first few nights down here I had nothing but nightmares about being one of those people in the crowd outside, watching the bomb drop and burn everything in its path as it reaches me. Sometimes I wake up sweating so bad that I have to wash and change my sheets before trying to get back to bed; oh, and my ears ring for hours. I talked to dad about my dreams and he blamed it on movie magic and how CGI technology will eventually just have actors act in front of a green screen instead of shooting live movies on location; I don’t know if he was serious or not, but I haven’t had those kind of dreams in a while now.

The latest edition to our classroom and probably every room including the living room of our living quarters is a wall mounted clock counting down the time until it is safe to return to the Earth’s surface. Oh and as for our living quarters, well let’s just say I will never complain about the size of room that I used to have! I live in a small seven by ten foot room equipped with a cot a dresser for my clothes and a nightstand. Mom and dad’s room was a little bigger but not by much. We have a bathroom shower combo, a small kitchenette that we can’t cook in except for microwavable foods, and a living room. When all three of us sit in the same room together, it gets a little cramped. Last week I tried to make a hammock out of blankets and bed sheets but got yelled at for making a hole in the concrete and ripping my sheets in half. My left arm still hurts from the sprained wrist I got for my troubles of trying to make a little more floor space in my room, dad thought it was a cool idea though and brought me a parachute canvas and some concrete bolts. I now have the cot stored behind the dresser and my hammock bed hanging high in the corner, so high that I climb on the nightstand to get in it.

Once all the assignments are handed out and First Lieutenant McKinley, our head counter person for homeroom and first instructor, calls her superiors to give the all present and accounted for, sir, we receive the all clear from the speaker system in the room. Then mom and dad say bye to me or see you later, or give me the try to behave today… look