Aeaea: Book One

By J.M Freeman

An isolated island cut off from the rest of the world holds many mysteries that fearless Oaklynn is determined to reveal. With the pain of losing her parents at a young age and being responsible for looking after her younger brother, she is forced to grow up faster than the rest of her peers.

When yet another earthquake strikes the island, Oaklynn finds herself in deeper trouble than she has ever been in before. A new foe arises, and she is shocked to uncover the truth behind his identity. Trying to stay alive, she teams up with her brother Nolan and closest friends Axton, Xavier, and Zara. It is up to them to decide whether or not they leave everything they have ever known behind or take a chance exposing every well-kept secret.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887318042

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Part 1: The Citizens

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Part 2: The Central Zone

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Part 3: The Realization

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

About the Author

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Aeaea

Book One

J.M Freeman

Copyright © 2023 J.M Freeman

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88731-803-5 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88731-804-2 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my wonderful family, especially my mother and Judy, without whom I would not have had the courage to make this book come true.

Part 1

The Citizens

Chapter 1

Loud laughter echoes in my ears as I slowly come back to reality. My bare arms feel the gritty sand press into my skin while being crushed under the weight of my body. My head pounds as Axton's firm grip lifts me to my feet. Of course he's here. He's always watching over me.

I finally steady my legs beneath me. There's enough of my vision back to see them. Our town's bold and brave, Axton, is being cheered on by my younger brother, Nolan, and a few of the other neighborhood kids. In my grogginess, I see that my brother looks happier, still dejected but not so broken. Axton's body is as sturdy as a concrete wall, as strong as the former Axton bridge that used to connect our land, Aeaea, to the Central Zone. Nolan was tough once too. At least that's what I remember before our parents died.

Back then, every morning he would get up and play tackle football with Dad. Dad would get on his hands and knees and try to make it from the living room to the bedroom while Nolan had to try and stop him from crossing the doorway. Nolan, being so small, would try his hardest to pull on Dad's arms or wrap himself around Dad's thigh to slow him down. It always made me laugh when Dad would tease Nolan on how close he was to tackling him. But nowadays, it has become a struggle to get Nolan out of bed before nine o'clock. No more high energy and, especially, no more playing tackle football with Dad.

Back to reality, I see hanging from Axton's belt loop the world's most rustic pocketknife—copper red, half-torn holder, and the dullest blade. Mr. Kyree, Axton's dad and the island's headman, gave the knife to Axton years back on his tenth birthday. He told Axton the knife was handed down through his family, and now it was time for him to pass it along to his only son. Axton takes that thing with him everywhere, insisting not to leave the house without it. He won't let anyone touch it, or at least won't let me touch it anymore. Even though it was an eternity ago, I still remember how I accidentally dropped it in a small river we were crossing on the way back to his house. The puny knife was scratched up and discolored. The last thing I wanted to do was stand around for half an hour waiting for him to fish it out of the river. But Axton fought so hard to get it back, teared up even, so I couldn't just leave. It turned out just fine. My brother showed up and helped us find it wedged between some rocks. Sometimes when I find a new knife at our local thrift shop, I give it to Axton. He has finally stopped giving me dirty looks.

New knives. No dirty looks. This is the closest thing I will ever have to a friendship.

I brush my tangled jet-black hair from my face and pull my hair into a messy bun. Long tendrils fall slightly on the back of my neck. I pick up my dust-covered baseball cap and throw it on my head as I pull the tangled mess of hair through the back, trying to keep the wind from blowing hair into my face. In the distance, I see the faint outlines of five other boys laughing and running off in the opposite direction—Axton's gift to me by scaring them off. I look back to Axton and storm off toward my house.

Our side of town, the West Side, is usually crawling with young children playing in the streets, accompanied by dads and moms with tired-looking eyes and wrinkled clothes. Many have stopped trying to control their kids, afraid of wasting their breath. But this evening, the streets will be empty. Cars in driveways will be locked, although most cars on the island no longer run because of the inability to get gas. The East Side kids have made their appearance, so may as well stay inside the rest of the day, if you don't go crazy.

Our house is just on the edge of the island. I have to pass through one of our biggest neighborhoods, Pig Town, just to reach my front door. While the buildings in Pig Town are run-down, the gorgeous natural landscape surrounding us makes it more tolerable. The town name stuck when the East Siders kept calling the run-down buildings pig pens. There are only dirt-covered paths; tall, lanky trees holding colorful leaves; and small creeks bending this way and that displaying unique-colored stones.

The door remains unlocked as I often forget to lock it whenever I leave the house.

Shutting the squeaky door behind me as I step into the entryway, I make a quick glance to the right, into Nolan's empty bedroom. He has not yet returned home. Quickly, I kick off my clunky black boots and set them by the front door. I pass by the kitchen island noticing small crumbs from last night's dinner lingering on the marble countertop. Halfway between the kitchen and the living room, the flooring switches from tile to a clay-colored carpet. Making my way to our sliding door at the back, I take a few seconds to straighten the pillows on our L-shaped sofa, which stares at an empty wall. Normally, there would be a TV set up for entertainment purposes, but I am only told of the stories of having such a device from my parents. All TVs were removed a while back before Nolan and I were born as Mr. Kyree made a rule that any news that was not from around here was not important and could corrupt our minds. I guess it was in the best interest of the town.

Stopping in the warm morning sunshine pouring through the door, I wiggle my toes in the carpet before sliding open the back door. I always prefer going outside with no shoes. It's something my mother always did, and I guess I just started to follow along in her footsteps. Right now, the water is so still I can't hear it crash into the rocks below. Concealed by my house, I walk out the back door to our backyard, which isn't very big at all, and climb over the fence to reach the small embankment on the other side.

Separating us from the Central Zone, in fact enclosing all of Aeaea, is a huge body of water. The theory is, it's supposed to scare anyone who gets too close to the edge. There are predators that live in the water—groups of killer whales, dolphins, and sharks. Since our property slopes down toward the water, Mr. Kyree found it necessary to install the fence close to the land's edge to prevent people from accidentally falling off into the water. The wrought iron fence stands about six feet tall. Mr. Kyree made that change immediately after the wood fence crumbled a few too many times. You could tell he was clearly tired of rebuilding it. This small area of land between the fence and the water is my safe haven. As soon as I'm over the embankment, I retrieve my drawing pad from a crack in the rock wall. Whether high waters or not, most citizens here don't like to get this close to the water. Just on the other side of the embankment, there is a flat sandy spot just big enough for two people to sit. Though there is no clear path on how to get to the sandy spot, I have come here more often than not, and I have mastered the best and safest route to get here.

I found out years ago that you can find food here if you have a fishing pole and some bait to hang over the edge. My parents knew how to fish and taught Nolan and me all the tricks we needed to know before they died in a car accident ten years ago. I was eight then. It was worse for Nolan as he was only five and didn't understand that they weren't coming back. I try not to talk to him about it.

Even though sitting this close to the edge is frowned upon and can cause you to get a pretty bad reputation around here, I believe more people would try it if they could just see the beauty I see. Most are not willing to risk their life to see something amazing and explore beyond our land. My drawing pad is worn with age as the corners of the pages are no longer straight and pointy. I always find a secret spot to keep my drawing pad; that way, Nolan can't find it. I can't risk him seeing my drawings and finding out what goes on in my head. Mainly, I draw my dreams from the previous night. They never make any sense to me. Either way, if Nolan found out about my dreams, it would make him more uneasy than he already is.

In the winter, I never come to this secret spot as it's too dangerous, and I don't want to risk falling to my death. Aeaea's winters, you have found a way to keep me away from the edge, I whisper to myself. I hear faint voices coming from the street, and I rush to hide my drawing pad and make my way back to the house. Even being on the edge of our property, I still worry sometimes that someone will find out about this spot and report me to Mr. Kyree.

When I was little, I scared my parents' friends by talking about the edge, about the people who would occasionally drop off supplies, and about the Central Zone. I soon realized that this would only cause more issues. So my parents taught me to hold back my impulses to share what I had seen. I mainly entertain myself. Do my work quietly. Make small talk with the kids I pass by on the street. Even when it's just Nolan and me at home, I try to avoid discussing anything that has to do with our parents—like memories we have of them or our feelings about them or even if we remember what they look like. Nolan might start asking the wrong questions, and what would happen then?

When I enter the house, there stands the only person who knows just how to get me fired up. Xavier Warner. I can feel muscles in my fists tightening and my face getting redder as I shut the sliding door behind me. The sight of him standing there brings a frown to my face. Xavier says he always gets greeted with a frown when he comes to see me.

Get into any tussles lately, little Oaklynn? asks Xavier. By the way, you left the front door unlocked again.

I hate it when he calls me little. When we first got introduced shortly after my parents' death, I was with Nolan. Even though I'm older, I'm still shorter. When Xavier found out I was Nolan's older sister, he made it official to start saying little in front of my name. I finally had enough of him calling me that, that I started proving my strength to him and a couple of the neighboring kids by challenging them to push-up and pull-up contests. I almost regretted it because I then had to hold up my now new reputation. But I got satisfaction out of it.

Look what I got. Xavier holds up his phone with a video playing on the screen, and he laughs. It's a video of me getting my butt handed to me just moments ago. I take it in my hands, pause the video, and look closer at my disheveled body lying on the ground, slowly zooming in to make the picture bigger. A video like this could be just enough to push Axton's parents over the edge.

Huh, still humble as ever, I say. He must have been nearby watching the fight go down. What in your right mind told you to just stand there and take a video?

Just my good nature. You know I live for excitement in this good little town, says Xavier. I was rooting you on.

Well, everyone got a little show today, didn't they? I say as I push the phone back in his direction. Axton was there to end it, of course. I roll my eyes.

His expression changes at the mention of Axton's name. Oh, of course he was. He's the town's hero. How could he let down poor little Mommy and Daddy? Suddenly, his voice changes into a stern father-figure role as he mimics the tone of Tyler Kyree. Make sure to be home before midnight, son! He steps closer to me. And may you always— He puts his hand on my shoulder.

I glance down at my right shoulder where his hand is now resting, and a small grin appears on my face. Follow our rules! I finish his sentence with equal annoyance in my voice. We have to make fun of him now because as soon as we step outside, not a crack of their names may be spoken about poorly.

I pull my shoulder out from under Xavier's calloused hand. He could be real competition for Axton. Dark, black hair, sun-kissed skin—they even have the same body structure. But they are somewhat friendly acquaintances, at least in a weird, humorous way. Most of Xavier's friendships are created in unique circumstances.

That's why Nolan and I, with our introverted personalities, always feel out of place. We are outcasts. The memories of my parents come to me in my dreams. Our parents always used to pull Nolan and me away from the other children when we were younger. Even some of the other parents would give us strange looks and duck into their houses as we passed by. I grew up right next to Axton before they moved further inland. Our parents got super close as we were always playing together, and we became one big family. Since almost no one talked to us anymore, Axton's parents took us under their wing after our parents died. Well, they tried to anyway. I was always disappointing them by rebelling under their household rules. I try to remember the good ol' days before the death of my parents, but all I can see is the strict rules of Tyler Kyree and Marissa, his wife. I try to see things from their point of view but, to be honest, I'm not willing to conform like the rest of them.

Xavier looks back down at his phone with the video of my fight still on the screen, looking at it closely while I stand there studying his thoughts. We settle down at our round kitchen table. From this place, we are out of view from any windows, but I still have a clear view of the front door, which is solid, except for a small window toward the top of the door. The day is now quiet, just the gentle breeze is echoing off the loose shingles on the roof. Even though the sky is a baby blue and not a cloud is in sight, all children have been removed from playing outside by overprotective parents. Everything would be great if more people weren't afraid of every little noise, if this whole day was spent laughing and enjoying the sun, even sitting by the edge. But instead, everyone has shut themselves off from the world.

I think I'll hold on to this video a while longer, Xavier says quietly.

Why? I ask.

Just in case you get an idea, run off, start talking crazy, or come up with your weird little theories like you do, says Xavier.

I can't even look at him. All I want to do is yell at him.

We have so many young ones running around. You wouldn't want to scare them with your nonsense now, would you? he adds firmly.

There is so much more out there that can scare them. But, of course, I don't want them to be scared, including Axton's younger sister and Nolan, and you may as well include most of the parents too because how would they be able to live in fear all the time? Who would be the one to get close to the edge and collect