White Data: Habitual Humanity, #2

By J. M. Tompkins

Naomi isn't perfect. But she needs to be.

 

America is split. Unemployment is high. Having a good citizen score is the key to a good life. Or is it?

 

Naomi Wilcox wakes from unconsciousness only to learn that she's going into surgery and her son, Sean, is in a medically induced coma. And he's going to need a liver transplant to save his life. Sean's chance of survival is tied to Naomi's citizen score and that's not looking too good. She must figure out a way to save her son - at any cost.

 

Read White Data now to experience a terrifying not-to-distant dystopian future of America.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Creativity Untamed, LLC
• Release date: Aug 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201082741

Book preview

WHITE DATA

Novella 2

Habitual Humanity Series

Year 2070

J. M. Tompkins

Copyright ©2019 by Creativity Untamed, LLC

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Cover Illustration by Rebecacovers

Cover Photo by DmitriyRazinkov

Typography & formatting by Typographer Creativity Untamed, LLC

Editing services provided by Darcy Werkman (AKA The Bearded Book Editor)

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This novella is dedicated to my husband and my son. They are the reason I smile every day.

Contents

WHITE DATA

DEDICATION

TUESDAY | MARCH 25, 2070

TUESDAY | MARCH 25, 2070

WEDNESDAY | MARCH 26, 2070

THURSDAY | MARCH 27, 2070

FRIDAY | MARCH 28, 2070

SATURDAY | MARCH 29, 2070

SUNDAY | MARCH 30, 2070

MONDAY | MARCH 31, 2070

MONDAY | MARCH 31, 2070

TUESDAY | APRIL 1, 2070

TUESDAY | APRIL 1, 2070

MONDAY | APRIL 21, 2070

TUESDAY | JUNE 3, 2070

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

HABITUAL HUMANITY HAS BEGUN

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

TUESDAY | MARCH 25, 2070

Naomi Wilcox

Naomi heard a question. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t. Her head seared with pain. There was a reply, a female’s voice. Naomi registered a beeping sound somewhere behind her.

How’s her heart rate? asked a male voice.

The female responded but Naomi didn’t catch it.

There was a smell. Naomi breathed in again. It was a metallic smell, and maybe bleach—and another she couldn't identify.

Looks like she’s coming around, the female said.

Naomi, are you allergic to anything? the male asked.

What? Naomi tried to respond but her voice was too soft, or too weak. Both felt true. She attempted to open her eyes again and managed a small slit.

Are you allergic to anything? The male was so close now, his lips were right up to her face as he tilted his head to the side to hear her.

No, Naomi whispered.

No allergies, the man said to the nurse. He leaned over her again. Naomi, you’ve been in an accident and brought to the hospital. You’re suffering from internal bleeding and we need to do surgery immediately. I’m your anesthesiologist and I’m going to give you propofol. His breath smelled of coffee, and he had a surgical mask dangling from his ear. The lights over her were so bright that Naomi had to close her eyes again.

She didn't understand. What accident? A car accident? She tried to remember. They’d been headed to baseball practice and running late. Sean was in the car! A feeling of terror consumed her. My son? she said, pushing past the pain to make her voice heard. What about Sean?

The man looked directly at her. He’s here; we’re taking care of him too. Let’s focus on you. I’m giving you propofol now. He grabbed her IV pole and twisted a syringe into the port. She could now see the lights above her were surgery lights.

No, wait! Is Sean okay? She was desperate to know about Sean. She couldn’t go into surgery without checking on her son first. She’d put her own life on the line just to be there for him now.

The man leaned down to Naomi again. She tried to focus on his face. Stubble covered his cheeks and neck. She faintly registered people moving around behind him.

He’s going to be okay. We’re taking care of him too, he said again, but his forehead creased and he glanced away as he said it. Now, count to ten.

In a weak voice, Naomi counted while looking at the man, tears streaming down her cheek. One. Two. He had caring, brown eyes. He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She was terrified, more for Sean than for herself, so she held tight to this stranger’s hand.

Naomi was out before she got to five.

TUESDAY | MARCH 25, 2070

Naomi Wilcox

Naomi was groggy and confused when she woke again. She was on a bed, slightly propped up. There was an IV machine next to her making that damn beeping noise again. A woman in purple scrubs sat next to her on a stool watching a screen. She had a beautiful fro and purple makeup that accentuated her large brown eyes and matched her scrubs. Directly across from them was a desk where another nurse sat. Her perfectly straight blond ponytail bobbed as she typed on a computer, she glanced up to say hello to a tall male nurse in blue scrubs who was pushing a bed with another patient into the room.

She’s awake, he said to Purple Scrubs, nodding toward Naomi.

Purple Scrubs offered Naomi a friendly smile. Hi. I’m Amber. You’re in recovery from your surgery. I’m here to take care of you. What’s your pain level from zero to ten?

I don’t know.

Okay. Take your time. Amber pulled out a cell phone from her front pocket, tapped it a few times, and in a strong, direct tone said, She’s a three.

My son, Sean—I need to know about my son, Naomi said.

"Sean’s recovering from surgery and your husband is with him. As soon