Cheyanne: And Other Tales from Underground

By Casia Schreyer

When Ethan returned to Complex 48 he told his sister about his escape, and about the girl who helped him. But who was she?
There are two sides to every story. It's time to meet Cheyanne, the girl from the surface, who is swept along in Ethan's bid to change history.
Also included: "Fifty-Fifty" - Whatever happened to Martha, Devin, and Jay? Who was that strange, skinny man? And where did all these powers fro from?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Schreyer Ink Publishing
• Release date: Aug 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9781988853383

Casia Schreyer

My name is Casia Schreyer. I write YA/NA novels and short stories in multiple genres.I am married and the mother of two. I live in Southeastern Manitoba in Canada.

Book preview

Cheyanne

And Other Tales from Underground

With Bonus Story: Fifty-Fifty

Casia Schreyer

This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters are the original creation of the author, any resemblance to persons living or dead is unintentional.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials.

Cheyanne © 2019, Casia Schreyer

Fifty-Fifty © 2019, Casia Schreyer

Cover art © 2019, Andreas Ganz

ISBN 978-1-988853-37-6

E-ISBN 978-1-988853-38-3

For Avery

My inspiration for Cheyanne

And for Ms. K’s 3-4 class of 2018/2019

Thanks for all your questions!

Table of Contents

CHEYANNE

PROLOGUE: JANUARY

SEPTEMBER – FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

OCTOBER

NOVEMBER

DECEMBER

JANUARY

FIFTY-FIFTY

ASK THE AUTHOR

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MORE FROM SCHREYER INK PUBLISHING

CHEYANNE

PROLOGUE: JANUARY

Cheyanne and her friends were on the bus to the shopping mall to catch a movie. the streets were covered in ice-crystal sparkles. Not that the girls could see much through the fogged windows; not that they cared to look. They laughed and teased, paying as much attention to their phones as to each other.

The song playing on the bus speakers ended and Cheyanne quickly realized that the DJ on the radio was talking about a broadcast claiming to originate from a city under the city. She stood and hurried to the front of the bus, ignoring her friends’ shouts to come back and sit down. Can you turn that up? she said to the driver.

He frowned but turned the radio up.

…an impossible claim. The complexes were destroyed, everyone knows that, we’ve got a monument right here in our city. And yet, here’s some skinny, pale kid with his hair in his eyes, telling us he’s lived his whole life in an underground city. Now, I don’t know about you, but …

Cheyanne pulled out her phone and did a quick search. The video in question was trending so it didn’t take long for the search engine to return the results she wanted. She clicked the link and a familiar face filled the small screen. Ethan.

Christy came up beside her on the half-empty bus. Okay, Cheyanne, seriously, what’s going on?

Cheyanne pressed play as the rest of her friends moved closer. They watched Ethan speaking about the complexes and his mission to find the truth.

Who is he? Deana said. Where’d you find someone to help you with this?

What are you talking about? Christy said.

Deana rolled her eyes. Cheyanne’s been obsessed with this conspiracy theory for months.

I don’t think it was Cheyanne, Lela said, staring at her own phone. It’s all over the news. They don’t know where the signal is coming from. They’re reporting that NYC, Boston, and Philidelphia are all seeing it too.

I’m terrible with programming, Cheyanne said.

We know, Christy groaned.

That just proves it though, Lela said. Cheyanne couldn’t do this.

Deana glared at her friends. Have you all lost your minds? This is some sort of hoax. Maybe Cheyanne isn’t behind it, but it’s still a hoax and you’re all going to feel like fools for falling for this.

The video was still playing, now scrolling pictures and videos of the world they knew, of the city they knew. In one photo they spotted a bus with a ‘75’ route number on it, the same route they were riding now. Another showed the Fourth of July parade.

A new photo appeared on the screen, a photo of a parking lot and a teenage girl standing there, waiting, phone in one hand, a drink in the other, a long black braid hanging down her back.

Maybe, Cheyanne whispered. Maybe not.

SEPTEMBER - FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

Grade eleven. Only one year until graduation. Cheyanne and her friends came out of the orientation session buzzing with excitement. Getting the extra credits for my evening dance classes means I can drop the fashion course and it’ll leave me with an extra spare this year, and two extra spares next year, Cheyanne said. There was an obvious bounce in her step.

Good, Lela said. You can use that extra time to work on your coding.

Cheyanne groaned but she was still grinning.

Morning girls! said a voice behind the group.

What am I? Isaac muttered under his breath.

Adam just grinned and spun around. Hey Gorgeous, were you working out over the summer?

Gavin, the senior four student who had come up behind them, scowled. I thought you had a boyfriend.

I do, Adam said, licking his lips. But flirting with you is so exciting.

Deana laughed. Seriously, Adam? You’ll flirt with anyone.

You just don’t understand, Adam said, putting a hand over his heart as though she’d wounded him. You refuse to flirt with anyone.

Darn straight, Deana shot back, grinning. So, if you and Gavin are going to play all lovey dovey, I’m out of here.

Before Gavin could protest, Adam said, Don’t run away on my account. Vincent is waiting for me up by the art room. He waved at his friends and blew Gavin a kiss. Later Gators.

Deana threw an empty chip back at his back as the others hollered goodbyes and kept walking.

Gavin fell instep beside Cheyanne. How was your summer?

Busy. My brother wanted to do everything.

Brother? I thought you had a sister. Michelle. She was in my math class last year.

Lela rolled her eyes. You did notice that Michelle is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed ice queen and Cheyanne is Anishinaabe, right?

Yeah, well, I didn’t want to make assumptions, Gavin muttered.

No big, Cheyanne said.

Michelle never mentioned a third kid in the house when we talked, Gavin went on.

Cheyanne shrugged. He lives in a different foster home. He’s only eight.

Wow. That’s a big difference.

Yeah. But I don’t mind. Eight’s a fun age. He’s tall too so we can go on all the rides and stuff together. Our mom took us a bunch of places over the summer for our visits.

That’s cool.

A couple boys were lounging against the wall further up the hall. One hollered, Hey Gavin! We still on for tonight?

Count on it, he called back. He smiled at Cheyanne. You want to come?

Where? Christy said.

Just a little get together. Come on, Cheyanne, it’ll be fun.

I can’t, sorry. I have dance tonight.

Isaac nudged Cheyanne and flashed his phone at her. That’s my mom.

Okay. She smiled at Gavin. My ride’s here. Bye. She adjusted her bag and followed Isaac up the hall.

Gavin watched her go then turned to face Cheyanne’s friends. They were all staring at him and their expressions weren’t friendly.

Lela locked her arms over her chest. Why don’t you stick to senior four girls?

What? It was small talk. I know her sister. Relax, okay? See you around. He sauntered back the way they’d come, one hand in his pocket, one hand fussing with his phone.

After dance, Cheyanne hopped a city bus to the warehouse where her foster father worked as a supervisor. He always drove her home after dance class. The bus was busy at this time of day, but she managed to get a seat near the back just a stop or two after getting on. She put on her headphones and put on some tunes before pulling out her phone.

There was a new text message from an unknown number. Curious, she opened it.

~This is Gavin. What time are you out of dance? ~

~I’m out now, ~ she typed back. By the