Zoo

By Tara Elizabeth

A chronicle of my time living in a zoo . . . I'm not really sure where to start, and you may have trouble believing me even as I tell you my story. My family did. They laughed the first time I told them, so now I just say it was all a crazy dream. You see, I died in a totally preventable car accident . . . or so I thought. When I opened my eyes, I was shocked to discover that I had been resurrected into the year 2282 and, just as unbelievably, was locked up in a zoo! A HUMAN ZOO! Oh wait, I mean the People's Past Anthropological Center.

The Global Government created the Centers because all of the different cultures of the world had, over centuries of time, slowly absorbed into one uniform culture. Everything and everybody felt the same, and the world didn’t like it. So, to help the people of 2282 find cultures they thought worthy to live their lives by, they used time travel to zap the people of the past into the future. They created enclosures to house their live human exhibits. And that's what happened to me. I became a research project, a source of entertainment. I was a prisoner who was over two hundred years away from my family and friends.

Most of my time in the enclosure was spent trying to escape. I also made friends, lost friends, fell in love, was betrayed, was held captive within captivity, and lots of other fun stuff. There were some shocking moments and some devastating moments . . . It’s a lot to recount, but I’ll try my best to tell you all about my time travel . . . PAST, PRESENT, and FUTURE.

I'm Emma, by the way.

*(ZOO is a fast-paced Young Adult/New Adult novel.)

(Revised Edition released May 20, 2013)

- Zoo is a total genre bender with unexpected twists and turns. Fantastic ending that was actually an ending. It has amazing world building. And the main character is a realistic young adult. She has struggles, she’s quick to judge, and she’s hardheaded, but in the end she knows what’s right. Emma was an awesome heroine on a mind-blowing journey. A Must Read! - YA Creative Critic Chick

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tara Elizabeth
• Release date: Feb 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301306268

Tara Elizabeth

Tara Elizabeth writes Young Adult Fiction, mostly Dystopian/Sci-Fi novels with a splash of romance and a hint of sarcasm. She's also a graphic artist, wife, mother, and Red Vine lover. Tara grew up in the Deep South surrounded by bayous, magnolia trees, crawfish and great people. Her culture is a huge part of her life, and you can see some of those details in her writing.Novels By Tara Elizabeth:Zoo (The Enclosure Chronicles: Volume 1)Exalted (Book 1)Denounced (Exalted: Book 2)

Book preview

Zoo

Tara Elizabeth

Smashwords Edition

Second Edition: February 2023

Copyright © 2023 Tara Elizabeth

Published by Elizabeth Hawk Publishing

Edited by Amanda Tarleton-Graves

Cover Art by Elizabeth Hawk Publishing

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Also by Tara Elizabeth:

EXALTED (EXALTED: Book1)

DENOUNCED  (EXALTED: Book 2)

UNITED (EXALTED: Book 3)

Courage does not always roar.

Sometimes courage is the quiet voice

at the end of the day saying,

I will try again tomorrow.

- Mary Anne Radmacher

THE

PAST

BEFORE THE ZOO

Before dying, being imprisoned in a human zoo, falling in love, being held captive by a King, and witnessing a rebellion, I was living a pretty regular life. Like every senior, high school was totally sucking the life out of me. I was too busy studying than actually having a life. Fortunately, I only had three months left before graduation. I planned on going away to college. I applied to eight out-of-state universities, even one as far away as Hawaii. I couldn’t wait to get away. It wasn’t that I had a bad life or that I was ungrateful, I just wanted to see what else was out there. I wanted to discover who I really was, away from everything I had ever known.

But I never made it to graduation, because I died. I died from two letters. Two!

Yep, that’s right. I was one of the unlucky ones that actually got into a car accident while texting. Typical.

I was average in every way including how I died.

This is how it happened . . .

It was a Saturday afternoon around 5:45 pm, and it was already dark because of Day Light Savings Time. I was on my way to my friend Avery’s house to tutor her. And yes, I was actually going to tutor her. I didn’t lie to my parents so I could run off to a party like a normal senior. I know it’s shocking, but like I said, I didn’t have much of a life outside of school. Plus physics was kicking Avery’s ass in a major way, and I really felt bad for her.

She sent me a text asking me to pick up some fast food on the way there. burgers fries sodas. biatch! I took my eyes off the road long enough to type OK. That’s all it took.

Screech . . . Smack!

I had drifted to the right, hopped the curb, and had an impromptu meeting with a telephone pole (whose name I apparently missed).

The next thing I knew, I was upside down and sort of twisted and wedged between the caved in roof and the smashed dashboard. I kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Each time I woke up, I could hear gasping and gurgling. I realized the sounds were coming from me as blood poured from my mouth into my nose. Before my nostrils completely filled with the warm liquid, I could tell that it smelled like pennies, and the air smelled like gasoline.

There were people screaming, and the emergency vehicles’ sirens were most probably wailing, but it was all muffled to me. My own struggling was the loudest of all the sounds.

Black.

Gasping.

Gurgling.

Blood on my favorite designer purse, which was next to my face, the contents missing. That was a stain that was never going to come out, and it took me forever to earn the money to buy it. Ugh!

I didn’t feel any pain, or maybe the pain was so great that my mind wouldn’t let me experience it. My mind wasn’t really doing much of anything. I wasn’t even seeing my short life pass in a movie-like montage. What a rip off.

Black.

Black.

Black.

I gained consciousness one more time, but this time I was no longer dangling from a seatbelt in a pulverized Honda. I was sitting in a clear, plastic chair that was hovering over an all white floor. It was positioned across from a desk. Behind the desk was a man wearing clothes that belonged in an old black and white detective movie.

What is going on?

THE INTERVIEW AND WELCOME

I decided to call the man behind the floating desk Dick, not only because of his lack of compassion and answers, but because he was dressed like Dick Tracy. My Dad loved Dick Tracy movies. They weren’t terrible, but I had a hard time watching anything without color.

Dick casually leaned back in his clear, legless chair and folded his arms across his broad chest. He eyed me for several seconds before taking out a tiny notepad and pen from inside his camel colored trench-coat pocket. That seemed strange to me since the hovering desk and chair seemed so futuristic, but I figured his note-taking accessory went with the outfit.

Name? he asked.

Am I dead? I asked in return.

Name? he asked again.

Where am I?

Answer the question.

Emma David. D-A-V-I-D. I spell my last name out for him because it’s pronounced differently than how it’s said aloud. The correct pronunciation is Daa-veed. I’m not sure why I went through the trouble of spelling it out for him. I guess I was just so used to doing it in my past life. Telemarketers were notoriously getting it wrong.

Dick scribbled in his infant sized notepad. Date of birth? he asked next.

May 28, 1995. I frantically looked around the empty white room searching for a way out.

Seriously, where am I?

There’s no door!

You are at the People’s Past Anthropological Center. Then, he cleared his throat and turned back to his scribbles without any further explanation. Do you remember dying and how you came to be that way?

Car accident. I answered him. Car accident . . . I brought my hands up to my face to feel for scars or some kind of proof that the accident had actually occurred. My skin was smooth and perhaps even a little healthier. My body, arms and legs all seemed to be fine as well. Impossible, I whispered to myself.

After I finished checking myself out, Dick said, Got you all patched up. Good as new. He leaned forward over the clear desk and tapped his finger on the smooth surface. An image popped up like it would on a computer screen. With a flick of his finger, he spun it around so I could see it.

It was a newspaper article with my photograph and a headline that read, Teen Girl Dies While Texting and Driving. I figured they had to have pulled my phone records to know that. There was also a picture of my car. It was upside down and wrapped around a telephone pole.

At that moment, all I could think about was my mother and father and how much I wanted to be at home with them. But I’m alive! I cried out. Bring me home! Why am I in this room with you? My voice trembled from the desperation and fear that coursed through my body. What was happening was unimaginable and I wasn’t even sure what that was.

You would have died in your time. We saved you. Healed you. You will have a new life now. Dick spewed a rehearsed line of crap to me. He looked at me with a face full of annoyance.

In your time… I repeated back to him, obviously confused.

Dick ignored my comment. Watch this. He tapped the desk again and a video popped up on the flat surface.

A woman dressed in a 1920’s gold flapper dress appeared on the screen, standing in front of what appeared to be a zoo. She had short, black hair that was cut into a flirty bob and bright red lipstick that exaggerated her ridiculous smile. Her movements and gestures were comically exaggerated as well.

The female flapper said with a wave and a flick of her heel, Welcome to the People’s Past Anthropological Center!

I looked up at Dick who was flipping through his notepad, neither paying attention to me nor the video.

The woman on the screen cheerfully continued on, You have been chosen and saved to be part of an exhibit. We have a wide variety of exhibits with people of varying ages from many different times. Our park was the first of its kind and one of the largest in the area. It’s visited by hundreds of people everyday.

Images of families pointing at people under glass domes zoomed in and out behind the spokeswoman. Everyone looked happy and amazed by the silly humans.

My stomach started to clench and my heart pounded as my situation unfolded. The words zoo, prisoner and captive flashed through my mind. Well, more like slapped me in the face.

Scientists worked for many years to discover the secrets of time travel. In 2216 they were finally successful, but the Global Government deemed it illegal. The effects of one person going to the past or future could be extremely damaging. But we fought hard to be able to use this amazing scientific discovery for good and eventually an amendment was made, allowing us to save people that were otherwise going to die without our intervention. The amendment also required that these individuals not be allowed to directly interact with the present day public as it could alter our futures. So we created The People’s Past Anthropological Center and from it many more Centers have been built. She smiled again, clearly pleased with her speech.

The woman opened her arms wide and then pointed at the camera. She said, We are your future and you are our past. Let’s learn from each other. Then she ended her speech with a little kiss on the palm of her hand that she blew toward the camera.

I wanted to barf. Was that for real?

I don’t understand. I pled with him. Why can’t I just go home? Where are my parents? What year is this? I reverted back to being a 5 year old and started to cry. By that point, my arms and legs were visibly trembling and snot was trickling out of my nostrils.

The year is 2282. We will be transferring you to your new enclosure momentarily. Under no circumstances are you to interact with the public. You are to behave, follow orders should there be any, get along with your enclosuremate and even try to be a little entertaining for the public. If you choose not to heed my warnings there will be consequences. Now, please sit back in your seat so we can prepare you for the move.

Dick was a total dick.

I threw myself out of the hovering chair and across the surface of the desk toward him. Dick’s chair shifted to the right and I slid right off the other side of the desk and onto the floor with a loud smack. I scrambled to my feet and beat my fists against the empty walls searching for a way out. There were no creases in the walls or buttons or anything, but I kept pounding away.

That was my first unsuccessful attempt to flee.

Eventually, I caved and sat in the chair, which unexpectedly pricked my arm and knocked me out with some sort of sedative.

DAY ONE – THE ENCLOSURE

When I woke up, I saw green, lots and lots of green. There were green plants, green trees, and green moss covered rocks. Underneath me was a cushion of green grass. I heard rushing water coming from somewhere nearby, but the pleasant sound was dulled from the pounding in my head. They drugged me and my body did not like whatever they gave me.

I stayed stretched out on the soft carpet of grass for a while before attempting to sit up.

Hi there! About time you woke up, a breezy, female voice chirped.

I slowly rolled my head in the direction of the voice. A girl about my age was sitting on a boulder staring at me. Her blonde hair was wild like she took the time to tease it, but used a twig to do it. Her eyes were a cool blue like a clear sky. Her dress was plain and was made from what looked like burlap or some other horrible fabric (if you could even call it fabric). It looked completely out of place on her.

I was thinking about how awful it would be to wear something like that while I was scratching at my own skin. And sure enough, I had the same crappy fabric on. I was so mortified. I was wearing a brown sack that came to about mid-thigh, and when I checked, I discovered that I also had on tiny bikini-cut panties. I was more of a boy short kind of girl.

I asked the blonde looking down at me, Where am I?

Didn’t they show you the film?

Yeah, but . . .

Well you’re in your new home now. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and I almost expected her to start smacking on some gum.

I sat up and looked around. There was a small jungle toward the back of the enclosure with the rest of the area being flat land. The jungle was thick with ferns and trees. I could see a hint of a waterfall over some low hanging vines. At the front of the enclosure on the flat land, I could see a small vegetable garden, a fruit tree, and a cow tied to a post. Half of the space was surrounded by a rock-wall and the rest was encased by a glass-dome.

This isn’t anything like where I came from, I said aloud to myself and to the girl.

Yeah, me neither. All I can figure is that they want to experiment by putting us in different environments and then seeing what happens… The girl shrugged her shoulders. So, what’s your name?

Emma David. You?

The girl spewed a ton of information at me all at once. Janice Hall. Grew up in Manhattan. Got into partying young. Overdosed on cocaine in a nightclub. Been in here alone for about a month. It’s good to have some company. I started talking to the cow a few days ago. Can you believe that? They could have at least put me in one of these things with some good neighbors or something.

Wow! She was completely overwhelming me and I didn’t know what to say in response quite yet. The thing that stuck out the most about her little speech was that she said she had overdosed. She looked too young to have had an overdose. How old are you? I finally asked her.

Sixteen, she answered nonchalantly, while inspecting her cuticles. Then she dropped down next to me and grabbed my hand to have a look at mine. She was behaving like a monkey. I could recall watching them at a regular zoo. They would sit and pick at each other, searching for bugs or whatever nasty things inhabited their fur. It made me uncomfortable, but I was so focused on figuring her out, that I let her continue for a while longer.

Janice was so young and beautiful, and she was probably wealthy if she grew up in Manhattan. I’ve seen plenty of famous socialites on cable TV become losers before they hit 18. What a waste. Drugs were one thing that I never messed with and she was a prime example of why.

What year are you from? I could tell she wasn’t from my time, even though we were dressed the same. There was just something about her that was different besides the New York accent.

She continued to look over my cuticles as she answered me and I let her because it seemed to calm her down, which helped my own nervous energy. She said, I was born in 1962. They ‘saved’ me in 1978. She made air quotes with her fingers as she said the word saved. Then she asked me, What about you?

The time travel crap was starting to weird me out. I felt like my head was going to explode, but I held myself together long enough to answer her. Um… I’m 17. I was born in 1995 and they ‘saved’ me in 2013 . . . This is crazy! Nope. I couldn’t keep it together after all. Why was I sitting there making small talk with some druggie, disco girl? I needed to get the hell out of my new prison.

I ran over to the rock wall searching for a door. Nothing. After I reached the glass front of our enclosure, where the public would be observing us from the other side, I beat my fists against the hard surface and screamed and screamed and screamed.

Then, I screamed some more.

Tried that already. It’s no use. Besides, the park’s not even open. Nobody’s here silly. Janice told me. She stood behind me, next to the cow, with her hand on her hip. I noticed she had fashionably tied some kind of vine around her waist to accentuate her curves under the hideous sack dress.

I didn’t care what she said, so I ignored her and kept beating the glass wall from one side all the way to the other, until I reached a point where I could see into the enclosure next door. What I saw was unexpected.

ECCENTRIC OR CRAZY

I climbed up a couple of the rocks and boulders that lined the side of our enclosure to get a better view of our neighbor. Some of the boulders were rough while others were slick. Some were moss and ivy covered making the wall green in places. Our enclosure seemed to be pie shaped and from what I deduced—thank you Advanced English for that word—our space was a quarter of one of those domes on the video. The boulders made a rock wall that covered the entire back of the pie-shaped enclosure all the way up to the top of the dome, but as the wall got closer to the front of the enclosure it dropped down a few feet leaving room to see next door.

Anyway, what I saw over the rock wall was unexpected.

A mature woman—as my mother said old women prefer to be called—was stretched out on a chaise lounge, fanning herself with a delicate and highly decorated fan. Her hair was silver and her cheeks were tinted with a circle of pink blush that stood out against her overly powdered white face. The gown she wore was extravagant, like she fell out of a Victorian era movie’s ballroom.

The space between our two enclosures was separated by the same glass as everywhere else, but surprisingly, I could hear her when she said in an English accent, Oh my. My, my, my . . . heavens, had I known I’d be having guests, I would have dressed in something more proper. She sat up and scooted to the end of her lounge chair, fluffing her skirts.

Have you come to hear me sing, young lady? she asked me.

Good job, Janice grumbled below me. It’s horrible and now she’ll be at it all night. I’ll never get any sleep. She stomped off to someplace in the jungle portion of our enclosure.

I turned back to the older woman. She was patiently waiting for me to answer her. Um. I don’t know. I was actually trying to find a way out.

No. No. No. You mustn’t do such a thing. They don’t allow that sort of behavior here. Now sit up straight and listen to your Auntie Josephine sing. That’s a good girl. She strolled over to her small stage and adjusted the bodice of her gown. She cleared her throat. And then she let it rip. OPERA. Holy mother, Janice was not kidding.

Lost in her own world, I left Josephine to her singing and continued up and around the back of the enclosure, scaling the rock wall. Back on the far side, where we shared a wall with yet another neighbor, I peeked over a boulder to see who inhabited the space. It was empty as far as I could see.

The space was rocky with lots of strange trees and tall grasses. I couldn’t see beyond ten feet or so.

Raarrrrrr! I fell backward and probably about six feet down to the ground below, when a hairy, mud covered face popped up in front of mine. Ouch, my butt.

Whoa! I gasped. So, I learned that the space next door wasn’t empty, and in doing so, I had nearly peed on myself.

After getting back on my feet, I rushed around trying to find Janice. I pushed through the jungle and found two small huts made of bamboo in a little clearing. Janice was sitting outside one of them inspecting her toenails.

Breathlessly, I asked her, What the hell is on that side of us? I pointed in the direction of the thing that had growled at me.

Some kind of cavemen from what I can tell. Pretty entertaining. Bunch of morons trying to make fires, she said. Thanks by the way, for getting Derby all fired up.

Auntie Josephine? I didn’t know. Sorry. I could still hear her belting it in the distance. She seems sweet though.

Whatever. I’m going to bed. That’s your hut and here’s a water pouch for you. She pointed to the structure to the right of hers. They brought it in this morning for you. If you need to shower, use the waterfall. It’s also for drinking. Latrine’s that way . . . close to the wall. It’s pretty gross, but at least it drains somewhere else. Guess the zoo didn’t want everything to be that authentic. Janice tossed me the water pouch and then crawled into her hut and left me to my own devices.

I caught the pouch with no problem, but then I dropped it on the ground as soon as it made contact with my hand. Ugh! Gross! I squealed. I couldn’t believe I actually squealed, but she threw me a freakin’ animal skin pouch to put water in. She had to be kidding.

I spent the rest of the evening exploring the enclosure, without the animal skin water pouch. I saw everything there was to see except a way out.

LIFE ON MARS

The park opened mid-morning on my second day. I could hear laughter and yelling. I could smell coffee and sweets, and when I crawled out of my hut and out of the jungle, I could see them. Aliens. Strangers. Future us.

They were all dressed differently. I could pick out dozens of different eras; hippies, 1950’s housewives, futuristic metallic clothes, men with bowler hats, children dressed similar to how I used to dress, even people with clothing from like King Arthur days. It was all making my head spin. Why were they all dressed so randomly? It didn’t make any sense, and I wasn’t able to come up with a single explanation.

The confusing groups of spectators were pointing, giggling, whispering and reading computerized informational screens on the outside of our enclosure. Children were standing on their tiptoes to get a better look. Since Janice was still asleep, all they could see was me, wild eyed and terrified. I scrambled back inside the safety of my hut and hugged my

Reviews for Zoo

[myntop · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book kept me intrigued and on the edge of my seat the entire way through. I love the main characters so much, and the supporting characters have such depth! I love that there will be more to this story in future novels, but I also love that it can be read as a stand alone and still seems complete, you're not left hanging to the point where you think you will BURST if the next book doesn't release tomorrow. I would definitely recommend this book to any fans of the dystopian genre, those who liked The Hunger Games, The Maze Runner, and those types of books. After reading Zoo, I will be looking for Tara Elizabeth's other novel.