Outcast: Unraveling Sanctuary, #1

By Kali Zunn

Go, Emma. Stay alive and be safe. I'll make sure they don't come after you, but you must never come back.

Emma has grown up in a secluded compound of women that managed to survive the great disaster that destroyed much of the world. Yet, since birth, she has been regarded as a misfit. An outcast.

Forced to live a life of constant supervision, suppressed emotions, and extra punishments, the only bright spot in her existence is the small taste of freedom she gets during the annual camping trips beyond the compound's imposing gates.

Until one day she learns the Mothers will no longer allow an outcast to live among them. Emma runs to save her life, but the odds are stacked against her.

Winter has arrived, and it is harsher than anything Emma had experienced at the isolated compound of women and girls from where she escaped. However, Emma has found a safe place to stay with the Moore brothers.

When all hope seems lost, will the men who find her be her saving grace? Or will the Mothers' cautionary tales of dangerous, violent men prove true?

Little does she know, these men have no intention of letting the young woman who has captured all their hearts slip from their grasp. They intend to prove that Emma can trust and depend on them—always and forever.

When a series of unexpected and seemingly impossible discoveries are made, will Emma be able to trust them? And more importantly, will they be able to trust her?

 

 

**Your wishes have all come true. Same story, but in one book. Follow Emma on her increasable journey of love and acceptances.  You're all very welcome.**

Kali Zunn

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kali Zunn
• Release date: Sep 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393060765

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Chapter 1

Life in the compound

Rules. All I had were rules. So did everyone else in the compound, but I was different . Not the same perfect child the Grandmothers and Mothers were hoping for, but last week a spark of hope filled my soul.

The Grandmothers had granted permission to let some of us go on a week long camping trip, for the first time in over a decade.

We could camp just outside the compound to save gas, but the Grandmothers wanted us to learn how to catch fish and swim, which required travelling to the lake nearby. This camping trip would be my first taste of freedom. Merely a few of us were bold enough to sign up, me included. Even though adventurous, I made certain to delay placing my name down because of my position within the compound. When fifteen other names appeared on the sign-up sheet, I felt it safe to write my name.

The camp was to test our survival skills. The best part would be having free reign over the campsite to explore. Even though we’d be gone for simply a week, I savored the thought of being free from the confining spaces of the compound, for however long I could.

A gentle tap at my door brought me back to the present before it cracked open and my sweet, shy friend, Sister Beth, peered inside. With a suitcase in hand, her small frame hovered at the entrance as her gaze, hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses, found me. Tucking a lock of wavy, brown hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture, she inquired, Sister Emma, are you packed?

I am, I acknowledged, taking my backpack off the bed and joining her by the door. I was waiting for you to arrive.

Sister Beth looped our elbows together as she brimmed with positive energy. I'm thrilled about the trip, are you? she declared with a giggle. I envied her for being able to chuckle like that. It had been a long time since they gave me permission to express such emotions.

Honestly, no. Have you looked at the selection of activities yet? I asked while we headed down the two flights of stairs. Sister Beth only put her name on the list to go because she saw my name on there. Even though I shouldn't show emotion, my lips tilted up slightly at the corners when I realized what she’d done. I would enjoy learning a unique skill or two to support the compound.

We breezed past the pleasure room and I gave a slight shudder. I didn’t like when we were sent there.

I selected the two nature hikes they offered and sand volleyball, she acknowledged, bringing me back to the conversation. She had an enormous grin. What did you pick, Sister Emma?

I held back my frustration as I responded, Unfortunately, I’m unable to choose. But I am grateful enough to observe some activities, like nature hikes, canoeing, campfire building, cooking and whittling. My response was emotionless. Mother Mary has chosen the activities for me.

Still an outcast, aren't you? Sister Beth stated with a shake of her head.

I breathed in the outside air as we left the building and walked on the path to the front of the compound where we were scheduled to meet for the bus. My gaze was focused on the large, open, metal gates that kept us in and the unwanted out.

She squeezed my arm that was looped with hers, trying to gain my attention once again. Sister Emma? 

Oh, yes. My eyes caught hers for a brief moment before returning back to the freedom beyond the wall. You know me so well.

Once at the open gate, I saw the bus as it pulled up in front, thrilled about our first trip outside the compound. The brakes squealed as the bus came to a halt and I took note of who was already there.

The use of vehicles after the volcanoes blew was different than it was before. The buses originally ran diesel fuel, but since we didn’t have access to it, we used the grease from our cooking as we cleaned out the filters regularly. It smelled sometimes, but it got us moving. Parts were harder to come by and it regularly took some tinkering to make them work. 

A few sisters were already waiting by the bus, probably brimming with excitement to escape the confinements of the compound.

Mother Mary, who was the shortest mother I had ever met, went to stand in front of the withered, yellow bus with the number 215 on the side. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt for camping and her long blonde hair was worn up in a tight bun. She waved to the person inside the bus as the doors opened, then turned around with her list in hand. Her sharp, steel blue eyes, that only accentuated her high cheekbones, dipped down to the list in her hand and checked it over. She wasn’t the meanest Mother of them all but came in as a close second.

My gaze left hers and found someone I always tried to avoid.

Sister Megan.

Her long blonde hair was straight and her radiant blue eyes held a smidgen of cruelty that exceeded some others. I’d overheard some older Mothers say her looks are unique, like an antique doll girls used to play with before the destruction. They called the toy a Barbie. It was Sister Megan’s beauty that had her favored beyond all of us. Her hate for me was strong, but I wasn’t sure why.

She and the twin sisters, Lilly and Rose, went to wait beside the old bus for their names to be called. Between the three of them, conversation flowed and neither of them paid any heed to Sister Beth and I.

Sister Beth leaned in and whispered in my ear, Do you think they’re planning something?

I wouldn’t put it past them, I admitted.

The Sisters Twins were born with beauty, just like Sister Megan. Both twins had short blonde hair that came to their collars (I suspected they cut it due to lice, but mums the word), chocolate brown eyes that went along with their high cheekbones, and perfect smiles. Despite their appearances and unearned favoritism, they were not the brightest teacups in our group. I’d give them an hour tops in the forest with us before they’d be praying to come back to the security of the compound.

I quickly picked a spot near the old bus for the two of us to wait for directions as Sister Beth continued to talk about the other ladies who were coming along with us.

After a moment, Mother Mary cleared her throat and started to speak. When I announce your name, you will enter the bus with your things.

The first name she called was Sister Jenna. She was another escort for the trip, and I was assigned to her. I watched her walk up to the bus in much the same dress as all of us, jeans and a t-shirt, and noticed her shorter height compared to the twins and Sister Megan. She held two bags instead of the one we all were assigned, and I wondered why she would require a double bag. Peeking around at the other sisters, I noted they all had two bags. I turned back, not surprised that the rules were different for me, and watched Sister Jenna’s brown hair swish along her shoulders as she turned to stand by Mother Mary. Her blue gaze swept over all of us just to land on me. She smiled, causing the scar from behind her ear to her jawbone to stretch, making it more noticeable. She gave a slight tilt of her head before turning back to Mother Mary, who had said some more names, then loaded up into the bus.

This trip was appropriate for her since she loved exploring and discovering hidden or forgotten things. It was a talent of hers. Back behind the compound walls, there’s a building that fell to ruins. It wasn’t far from the white boarding houses we lived in. The two of us used to explore there before we entered womanhood. Before I became an official outcast.

Sister Alyssa, Mother Mary called out. She continued to read off the rest of the Sisters’ names, including my own.

Once we had settled on the bus, Mother Mary climbed on board last and stood at the front ready to give us the guidelines. A brief rundown of the rules, ladies, she began as the bus rolled down the cleared road. She gestured with a hand to Mother Lisa, who was driving us. Mother Lisa and I will be the two camp’s directors on this trip.

I adored Mother Lisa even though she probably didn’t know it. Her dark chocolate skin reminded me of something sweet, and her black eyes and hair of long-ago cooled volcano magma. She also had the best singing voice in the compound and was the sweetest Mother to me of all. She still made me work just as hard, but she didn’t treat me any differently.

Once outside the safety of our compound, the road became rough, and Mother Mary grabbed a hold of one of the backseats. "You will, at all times, carry a whistle with you. If you become lost, give it three short blows, count to twenty, and then do it again. Mother Lisa or I will come looking for you. Once you have blown your whistle, do not move." Mother Lisa nodded in agreement with the rule as she drove.

Mother Mary kept steady as she walked down the aisle, handing everyone a whistle as the bus carried us down the empty, dirt road. When arriving at my side, she gave me one of her warning stares. Sorry, I don’t have enough for outcasts. Stick with your escorts.

I didn’t mind not getting one. I got lost once when I was about six. After that, my birth mother taught me directions. She taught me to find north from the magnetic pull within the ground, so when lost, my feet could find north.

I gave Mother Mary a sharp nod of understanding, and she moved on, continuing with her instructions. The rest of the rules are like the ones in the compound. Be kind, help others, lend a hand when needed, always...

Always be the best Sister you can be, we all replied in unison.

Mother Mary inclined her head in agreement. Correct. Follow these rules and we will all have a pleasant trip, she stated then worked her way to the front of the bus, signaling her instructions were over.

Whispers of conversation started to flow after a moment, and Sister Beth started to chat with me about all the exciting things we'd learn.  Somewhere in the middle of the conversation on what she’d learned in a construction class, one I was not permitted take, she stopped short with gasp and leaned toward the window. Oh my.

My gaze turned to the view outside and took in the wide, green, open field. A few deer were grazing in between the old and long forgotten buildings and piles of volcanic rock that were left over from earlier times. The buildings were abandoned years ago, before the worldwide disaster.

Sixteen of the twenty super volcanoes blew their tops within a week of each other. The compound, where I lived, kept only twenty-six women safe. It was once a place for women to hide from the human males that were cruel to the women. Spousal abuse, they called it. These men would physically hurt the ones they claimed to love. Belittled them so that the women themselves thought they were worthless. And worst of all, the men took advantage of what wasn’t freely given: the intimate act of showing your loved one how you feel. Some of the women said that death after that would have been a blessing rather than going through all of that again. Some of the men did kill them and got away with it.

The compound was a haven. A sign of hope. A place that saved battered and bruised women.

When the volcanoes erupted, the compound became home to twenty-six hundred women. They gathered the supplies they needed to survive until it was safe to leave. These women taught themselves how to do everything, from agriculture to veterinary medicine. Each learned a little and discovered what three areas they were most interested in.

I wasn’t allowed to choose.

The jobs I received were the ones no other Sister, Mother, or Grandmother would've ever thought of picking: fixing things that were broken. Unfortunately construction was out, because of the heavy equipment they used. The Mothers and Grandmothers thought I might get the wrong idea and use them for other purposes. 

I was the compound’s black dot, not fitting in their pocket books of desired looks.

The outcast with mismatched eyes. One green and one blue.

The unwanted, with my naturally bright red hair and black highlights.

The gangly giant who towered over the others.

What the elders from before my time would have called a freak.

I was the compound’s misfit.

It’s so... broken, Sister Beth whispered, bringing me out of my thoughts.

This was once a town.

It looks so sad seeing the buildings crumble into nothing but dust, Sister Jenna joined in from the bench across from us. I could see her twitching; her gaze was glued out the window. She longed to explore. I felt her pain.

Sister Megan snickered and declared, Broken, huh? Nothing is more broken than our Sister Emma.

Others laughed as I ducked my head and bit my lip to stop myself from retorting back. She was wrong. I wasn’t broken. That was rude, Sister Beth whispered to me. She’s wrong.

At thirteen, I found part of the compound wall crumbled away and managed to catch a glimpse of the outside world. It had been calling to me ever since. When the opportunity for the camping trip came up, my nerves had jumbled with excitement at the possibility of escaping the compound walls. Of escaping the hurtful comments and the judgmental stares of those like Sister Megan who thought I was broken, a misfit, an outcast.

Even though a safe place, I hated the compound and the secured walls that kept me trapped. This was my only chance to take a break from the walls that kept me inside where I was barely tolerated.

I watched out the window for the rest of the ride, and Sister Beth fell silent beside me. It took us a quarter of a day’s drive to get to our camping place, and along the way there was only wildlife to be seen.

When we arrived, Sister Jenna was the first one of us off the bus. Although I wished to be right behind her, I took my time. If I showed any kind of excitement in front of the Mothers, I would be sent to the pleasure room. It was a room I detested the most at the compound. I would be sent there sometimes for no reason other than saying ‘Good Morning’ to a Mother or a Sister.

My mother use to tell me the story of the day I was born. I’d shown too many emotions and that had marked me for trouble. The midwife wanted to kill me before I even had time to live. My birth mother had pleaded and begged to let me live. She is such a happy baby.

I was the only child she would have, due to complications during my birth. It was through her tears I was granted life. She died just after my sixteenth birthing day.

I understood why they wouldn’t want me to live.

My looks alone were an issue. Strawberry fuzz hair and mismatched eyes were not a good fit for their kind of perfect. When I began to grow, it became my height they didn't like, then my desire to learn and how easily it came for me. I was an overachiever by default. Humbleness was a learned trait.

I didn’t make friends well, and if I did, it was only a matter of time before we drifted apart.

Others shunned me, and the rest were afraid.

Sisters Jenna, Beth, and Daisy were the only ones who stayed true best friends. They knew more about me than anyone else because they asked.

I sighed, wishing Daisy were here with us. She wasn’t able to come due to her pregnancy.

We arrived at a campsite in the middle of a pinewood forest.

After a brief reminder from Mother Mary to stay with my assigned escort, everyone exited the bus. I quietly grabbed my things and followed Sister Beth, breathing in the clean fresh air.

The Sisters and I who hadn’t ever been camping watched Mother Lisa instruct us how to set up a tent. Being one of the oldest Mothers living in the compound, she knew these things best. You may have your own tent, or you can share. She turned her keen eyes my way. Sister Emma, you must share with both your escorts.

Giving a swift nod, I watched Sister Beth pick out a big tent, and Sister Jenna and I helped her set it up. With the three of us working together, the tent went up quickly.

Inside, the tent was smaller than my room at home but still big enough for all three of us to sleep. I waited off to the side while Sisters Jenna and Beth picked where they were going to sleep before I took the empty space against the back wall, furthest from the door.

When we had sleep arrangements settled, the three of us stepped out of the tent and zipped up the door. The late day sun heated our skin, but the cool wind chilled it as the three of us took in the other Sisters struggling with their tents.

Do you think we should help? Sister Beth asked softly.

Fighting back a grin, both Jenna and I said, Yes. We pitched in, helping set up two tents for the four Sisters. In no time at all, we had seven tents set up. Only Sister Megan was sleeping alone this evening.

Mother Mary gave us a few moments to explore the campgrounds and take in the three trails we would be walking later in the week. I finally let myself relax as we left the watchful eyes of the mothers, and Sisters Jenna and Beth never said a word when my posture changed. Nor did they say anything when I smiled freely. Seldom were there opportunities to show how I truly felt.

In one week at camp, I learned how to row a boat in the lake, catch, clean, and cook a fish (and everyone else’s because no one wanted to do it). I even learned how to hunt. Why we needed to learn how to hunt, I didn’t know, but I learned it just the same. I was grateful Mother Lisa had talked Mother Mary into actually letting me help out and learn. For the first few days I had sat and watched as the others did everything.

Sister Jenna showed me how to make a forest fort, and I taught her how to fish. When we discovered a skill, it was important to share it with others, to help everyone improve.

Excited about my new found skills, the week of camping flew by and soon it was time to leave.

We all took down our tents and cleaned up the campsite before we loaded on the bus to head back to the compound. Sister Jenna sighed as she sat back in her seat and we all waited for the bus to start moving.

I hope we get to come back. My heart agreed with her, wanting to return one day.

Back at the compound, all twenty-two of us were sent right to the pleasure rooms. More than anything, I wanted to clean up and shower. Somehow the pleasure rooms always came first. Twenty long, agonizing minutes later, I was free to clean up my camping things. I couldn’t stand being in that room for so long. It baffled me how the other women here loved the pleasure room. There were just so many other things I could be doing than lying on my back for twenty minutes.

Hey, Sister Emma! Sister Daisy called, swinging her perfect five-foot-five self into my doorway. Her wavy brown hair dangled down over her shoulder when she leaned in, blue eyes lit with curiosity. You’re back. How was camping?

It was educational, I replied unemotionally as I patted the side of my bed for her. Come on in. You can sit here.

I watched her place her hands along her eight month belly as she gave me an annoyed shake of her head before walking in and sitting. Drop the facade, Sister Emma, and tell me about everything. It's just you and me. No Mothers.

A small smile teased at my lips. "I slept in a tent and the