Starve

By Malie Olivier

Dr Robert White does research on the influence of growth hormones, antibiotics and pesticides on humans. He warns the government but gets fired instead. His niece Samantha Locke gets sent to Children’s Camp 2 (CC2) after her mother kills her father. At CC2 she learns about the importance of food in a society where the economy has collapsed and what lengths people will go to so that they don’t starve.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Malie Olivier
• Release date: Nov 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370472093

Malie Olivier

Malie Olivier is a South African author and an ex-teacher. When she isn't busy writing she does proofreading, editing, translating and typing. She enjoys writing Science Fiction and Speculative Fiction books because the ideas and possibilities are endless.

Book preview

Starve

Malie Olivier

Dedicated to;

My family for their

support.

Starve

By Malie Olivier

Copyright 2016 Malie Olivier

Smashwords Edition

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

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Chapter 1

I was hiding in the bathroom when I heard the first screams start. I quickly switched my torch off and stood listening. Frantic struggles and cries for help surged out of the dormitory windows. I recognised all the voices that were crying for help but I was frozen in terror. My heart was racing and I was trembling with fear and revulsion. I could hear no footsteps outside the bathroom so I opened the door quietly, stayed in the shadows and looked towards the dormitory closest to me. The outside lights were off and I could only see the yellow glow of candles and torches; it was not a welcoming sight.

Macabre shadows flickered on the walls that I could see. There were sounds of scuffles and shrieks of sheer shock pouring in a stream towards me. I stayed in the shadows of the bathrooms and when I saw and heard no sounds close to me I snuck out. I hid behind the bathrooms overcome by nausea and fear. Those that were still alive were pleading to be spared and their cries for mercy travelled on the night air. I couldn’t help them. I am a skinny sixteen year old girl and I would lose my life. I quietly sobbed with helplessness and dread. I couldn’t bear to listen any longer to the cries and moans and needed to get as far away as possible. I still couldn’t hear or see anybody coming for me so I ran to the fence that was the furthest from the dormitories. I couldn’t hear the moans; only the sobs coming from my own mouth. I would need to be quiet if I wanted to survive this night. I cannot be found if I want to live.

I hugged myself because I was shivering from shock. Trembling I crouched behind a tree and tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. I calmed down and considered my options. I could stay here until somebody found me, I could go back to my dormitory or I could somehow escape from CC2 – Children’s Camp 2.

If I stayed hidden until somebody found me I would be as good as dead because the wrong people would be looking for me. If I went to my dormitory and participated in what was happening I would be dead inside. Ok, so definitely not the first two options. If I somehow could get over or under the fence I could maybe survive. I don’t think going over the fence is an option. The fence is about six metres high and electrified. I guess I’ll have to start digging. I search for something to dig with but I only have the moon’s dim light to see by. I don’t want to risk getting spotted so putting my torch on is out of the question. Eventually I spot a hard plastic container that I can use to dig a hole underneath the fence. It feels as though it is an old ice cream tub; although we haven’t had ice cream in years. It should do the trick if the plastic is hard enough.

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There have been no security guards at the fence for a week so I don’t run the risk of being shot. A month since we have seen any adults inside CC2; all the teachers and cleaners have left. Nobody has delivered food for a week and that is also when last I had anything to eat. I am starving and weak but keep on digging because the alternative is too sickening to contemplate. The plastic container breaks on the one side and I have to use the other side. My hands are hurting where the jagged edges puncture my skin making the plastic feel slick and sticky with my blood. I have to rest every few minutes because I can feel the energy loss the digging is costing me. The ground is dry and sandy and it shouldn’t take me too long to dig under the fence if the container doesn’t break. I feel dizzy and nauseous but I have to keep digging because I have to get out tonight while the others are still unaware of my absence. Eventually there is enough room for me to squeeze underneath the fence and I start running in the direction of the glow in the distance. I could only run for a bit and then I had to start walking. I don’t know how far away the dim glow is but I have to try and reach it tonight.

I don’t know what to expect when I get to the glow but it has to be better than the last few weeks have been at CC2. We have been getting less food every week and last week we got nothing at all to eat. I have to hope that I am not walking to my death. The road I am on curves often and I feel relatively safe on the road because there is dense vegetation that I can hide in if I hear or see something. I don’t even have a weapon to defend myself with but luckily I spot a thick stick on the side of the road. I am panting from the exertion of staying on my feet and end up using the stick as a crutch.

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How did I get to this point in my life? I ask myself this question an hour later when I collapse next to a road. I had tripped over my own feet because I was dizzy and had fallen down. I knocked my head against a rock and I can feel the blood trickling down my neck. My head is sore and I can’t focus my eyes so I close them again. I am shivering and shaking and I can’t get up. I think about everything I wanted to say to Julian and now I will probably never get to say it. My body has no energy left to move and my muscles are being consumed by my body to keep my heart beating. I am dizzy, nauseous and light headed as I manage to turn onto my back. My mind is playing tricks on me and I imagine that I am floating away from my useless body. I squint through the pain in my head and the last things I see are the stars in the sky.

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Chapter 2

My name is Samantha Lock and I haven’t always lived at CC2. I was born in 2024 in Johannesburg, South Africa. My mom and dad had been married for ten years before they had me. They had tried to have a baby but with fewer children being born they accepted the fact that they could remain childless. My uncle, a scientist, gave Mom and Dad some vitamin capsules and other tablets in the hopes of increasing their fertility. They were ecstatic when Mom found out that she was pregnant and then she had to have a lot of tests done to see if I would be normal.

You see about half the babies that were born were deformed in some way. There were the babies that were born with broken bones, without limbs, small skulls, deformed bones to name but a few. Often the babies would appear to be normal and die hours later of cancer, pneumonia, strokes or heart attacks. The cost to the government to care for all the ‘broken babies’, as they became known, was exorbitant. More adults became sick too with constant headaches, muscle tremors, anxiety, brittle bones and they died due to heart attacks, strokes, cancer and suicide.

The adults that were ill had to be confined to protect those around them as they became extremely aggressive and irrational and tried to kill anybody that came close to them. These adults were given huge amounts of drugs to keep them calm and easier to manage. This was the society that I was born into. The healthy people that were left in society had to care for the ill, deformed and dying. Taxes were high and many companies had to downsize due to the shortage of workers. It was not uncommon to have two jobs in order to survive financially. There were just not enough healthy people to keep the economy going.

I was lucky that my mom only had one job until I turned six although my dad had two jobs to make ends meet. The year I turned six was an awful year for our family. My dad became too ill to work and I stayed at home with him during the day. There was no money for me to go to preschool and dad needed somebody with him. He was suffering from terrible headaches that caused him to become unconscious for hours at a time. The slightest noise could trigger a massive headache so we became used to tiptoeing around the house. We could not afford to have him admitted in one of the care facilities and he was not at all aggressive. My mom then started working two jobs and for the first few months everything was fine. My dad had become skinny due to the constant nausea that the headaches gave him but he was not violent; in fact he was lethargic mostly due to the strong pain tablets he took.

I was always aware that I had to be quiet and my mom always told me what a good girl I was. On my birthday my mom took the day off