NANO: The Travellers (Prologue and Chapter 2/24?)
abigbluebox and I have been working on a story called "The Travelers" for nano we decided to post them here. We're alternating chapters between us and she's posted the prologue over on her journal, so here's a link.
Story Summary: They traveled to escape the fall of every universe. They are far more advanced than we are and now...they are here and they live among us. Nothing ever happens in this small Georgia Town of Stonewall. That is, until the lights came.
Title: The Travelers
Author of Chapter: abigbluebox
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Chapter Summary: She knows it's wrong, but her life for the sake of the human race, including her husband? That was a price she was willing to pay.
Prologue
And here's Chapter 1 under a cut.
Title: The Travelers
Author of Chapter: country_who
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Chapter Summary: Samantha was growing up in a small town of Stonewall, located in the Georgia Piedmont. Her heart was set on ranching for the rest of her life, but sometimes things still feel wrong when everything seems so perfect.
Chapter 1: Just a Little Georgia Town
(1952)
She lounged back on the rocking porch swing; it groaned its protestation, as she leaned back into it and tilted her head back. The green grass embezzled with the jewels of early morning dew stretched in front of the white washed house. It made the softest, almost undetectable rustling as the summer wind blew over it. The blue skies that stretched for miles in every direction were dotted with clouds like soft cotton balls, floating care-free on the breeze. Birds swam in the invisible tides of the air; their calls echoing around the serene landscape of rolling hills. The sounds of horse’s hooves and cattle braying added to the symphony that filled the teen’s ears.
It might seem perfect-ideal-but, being born and raised on this ranch that went back three generations before her, made this just your average, everyday sight.
Nothing ever seemed to happen in this town. She was sure was that her home town would have been called one-horse if anyone had even bothered to learn its name. Sometimes, she would dream and think that her heart was drawn to something outside of a town, which was really only around to connect the ranches of the area. Sometimes, she would dream of travelling far away and seeing what the world had to offer, but then-on days like today-she couldn’t dream of anywhere else she’d rather be…
~//~
A four year-old taught the only life that her family knew, this ranch. She would go to the one-roomed school house, and she loved every minute of it, but she loved the ranch more. Without any older brothers (or brothers at all), this ranch was destined to be hers. And, she’d be darned if she was going to make her parents regret having a girl.
Book-learning was all fine and dandy, but it was work, sweat, and tears that were gonna get the ranch to be a success…
~~~
By the time she was ten, she could rope and ride with the best of them, and maybe even a bit better. The skill and knowledge let her race through the rolling green hills for hours after chores. It got her to wake up before even the rooster to complete her tasks and spend the rest of her day riding Trek. Her whole being morphed with the chestnut gelding whose legs moved with such precision someone might have thought he was a machine instead of a steed. They raced their own shadows, felt their first taste of freedom, and maybe that’s when it started. Maybe that was when she was tainted.
She had always assumed that seeing her little world from the back of a horse was the best reason to stay, but she never thought it would give her the urge to leave.
~~~
She was seventeen and schooling at the rickety old building had quit advancing three years ago. Now, she was ready for a full time education as at become rancher’s daughter and later a true-blooded rancher.
So, she swapped reading, writing and arithmetic for a shovel and bales of hay.
And so, the ranch made its way to a permanent place in her heart, and in turn, she gave herself to the ranch.
~~~
Last week, as she scrubbed saddle pads and shook them out across the wooden fence, a wise man came out. His steely blue eyes examined the land behind her shoulder, more on instinct than trying to ignore her.
The teen’s young, piercing, emerald eyes gazed into the old, judicious ones that belonged to the man she had known longer than any boy of a passing fancy. Their gaze ran over the rolling hills, grazing horses, and pine trees swaying in the distance, but never meeting the girl’s.
Years of being raised by the owner of those eyes had taught her that his eyes may scan the land, but his heart and mind were locked on her eyes. She knew they were peering deeper into her emerald depths further than any other person could, even if they used their eyes.
A small smile spread across the wise man’s lips, and the teenager couldn’t tell if he was content at taking in the sight, or glad from something she had done or was about to do.
“This is all gonna be yours someday,” he muttered, and for the first time in a long time his eyes really did meet hers.
A wide smile spread across her face, and she nodded, but something still felt missing. She broke his gaze and turned back to the area that surrounded her. What could she possibly be missing? A small town, nice folks, a living, and one of the most breathtaking places that God had ever made on earth, there was nothing else to hope for.
Except, maybe someone to share it with…
~//~
As her mind drifted back, she hadn’t realized that her eyes had lowered to a close and that the “wise man” was standing behind her.
“Samantha,” he said sharply, pushing on her shoulder with a hand covering a leather work glove.
Startled, she jumped to her feet and stumble off the steps, falling less than gracefully off the porch and onto the ground. Getting to her feet (slowly this time), Samantha brushed off her jeans and stood up straight. Arms crossed across her chest, as she tried to look affronted.
“Dad,” she started, but he cut her off with a leather clad hand.
He wasn’t a large man by anyone’s standards. He was a more than a hair shy of five and a half feet high-on a good day, but his build made up for it. His thick muscled arms were seldom without the familiar burn of exertion and a sheath of shiny sweat. A thick mop of gray hair had grown where blonde once grew. Steel blue eyes that creased at the corners from the years of sun exposure and squinting.
His name was John Smith, but everyone called him Buck. No one even remember if he had gotten the nickname from the number of Buck’s he had killed or because he was about as tough as ten of them put together. Either way, no one had the guts to ask him personally.
He would often chuckle to his wife that they were getting worked up over nothing and you could call him Sue and it wouldn’t make a difference to the way he acted or ran his ranch.
“Work now, day-dreamin’ later,” he said with a thick drawl that you could only get in the foothills of Georgia.
“Yes, sir,” She said, as she tugged her boots on from their place on the porch.
Casting one last glance over her shoulder, Samantha took in the sight of her father, and she couldn’t help thinking that she’d like to find a man like her daddy someday.
~//~
Rubbing the back of his permanently red neck, Buck smiled and watched the fleeting figure of his only daughter. She was a dreamer to say the least, and it baffled him to no end. His mind always seemed so in touch with reality, and never seemed to drift away from it. It never had a reason to, everything was so right and-dare he say it-perfect. But then again, the love of his life, June, was in touch with her surroundings on a level that he was sure was not humanly possible, and she was the biggest dreamer he had ever met.
He glanced around at her as she stepped out the white washed house. A long summer dress swirled around her ankles, as the sweet breeze seemed to embrace her a little tighter than anyone else.
Auburn hair fell back over her shoulders in a sun kissed orange cascade of curls, and the source of his daughter’s green eyes stared back at him. A smattering of freckles ran over the bridge of her nose and cheeks giving her a childish look that really didn’t do justice to her forty-seven years of living life to the fullest.
~//~
They got married in the little, old church in town, happy and grinning like a pair over overwhelmed teenagers (after all that’s all they really were). Her vibrancy and glowing personality contrasted his stoic character wholly and added new levels to the phrase “opposites attract.”
He was never a man of many words, but that was never a problem for June, she could read him as well as she could read the Good Book (and that was saying something coming from the late Preacher Stogan’s daughter.)
Buck had known that they were perfect for each other as soon as he let his guard down. The rough and tough ranch hand that finally made and found his way in the world with a gorgeous wife and daughter couldn’t be steel all the way through after all. No, there was definitely something soft deep within him, and it was softer than the most luxurious down.
~~~
Arms that could bale hay from sun up to sun down and could split logs straight down the middle cradled the most delicate buddle that had ever filled his eyes. It was probably best that he never spoke for the sake of hearing his own; because, right now he was rendered speechless.
~~~
Buck gave her a grin and tugged off his gloves, shoving them in his back pocket and approaching his wife with a gaze that could only be formed after nineteen years of marriage and over thirty just knowing each other.
His calloused hands cupped her cheek, turning from leather to velvet in his first second of contact. He didn’t say anything (nothing needed to be said) as he gently kissed her lips and pulled back.
“Your daughter’s always got her head up in the clouds,” he told her gruffly, a twinkle in his eyes and chuckle laced in his voice.
June gave a short, offended laugh.
“I was under the impression you had a mighty big part in her comin’ into this world,” she told him.
“Yeah, but she got her fantasizin’ brain from you,” he replied.
“Good thing too,” she replied flippantly.
A low grumble escaped from the base of Buck’s throat as he chuckled and scratched behind his neck.
“I s’pose so,” he capitulated softly, as he lowered his eyes a bit to take in the full image of his wife. ‘Had she always been this stunning?’
“Anyways,” June brought his attention back to the present. “I think it’s ‘bout time you head into town and get some feed and whatever else we’re missin’ ‘round here.”
He nodded mutely and strode off.
Story Summary: They traveled to escape the fall of every universe. They are far more advanced than we are and now...they are here and they live among us. Nothing ever happens in this small Georgia Town of Stonewall. That is, until the lights came.
Title: The Travelers
Author of Chapter: abigbluebox
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Chapter Summary: She knows it's wrong, but her life for the sake of the human race, including her husband? That was a price she was willing to pay.
Prologue
And here's Chapter 1 under a cut.
Title: The Travelers
Author of Chapter: country_who
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Chapter Summary: Samantha was growing up in a small town of Stonewall, located in the Georgia Piedmont. Her heart was set on ranching for the rest of her life, but sometimes things still feel wrong when everything seems so perfect.
Chapter 1: Just a Little Georgia Town
(1952)
She lounged back on the rocking porch swing; it groaned its protestation, as she leaned back into it and tilted her head back. The green grass embezzled with the jewels of early morning dew stretched in front of the white washed house. It made the softest, almost undetectable rustling as the summer wind blew over it. The blue skies that stretched for miles in every direction were dotted with clouds like soft cotton balls, floating care-free on the breeze. Birds swam in the invisible tides of the air; their calls echoing around the serene landscape of rolling hills. The sounds of horse’s hooves and cattle braying added to the symphony that filled the teen’s ears.
It might seem perfect-ideal-but, being born and raised on this ranch that went back three generations before her, made this just your average, everyday sight.
Nothing ever seemed to happen in this town. She was sure was that her home town would have been called one-horse if anyone had even bothered to learn its name. Sometimes, she would dream and think that her heart was drawn to something outside of a town, which was really only around to connect the ranches of the area. Sometimes, she would dream of travelling far away and seeing what the world had to offer, but then-on days like today-she couldn’t dream of anywhere else she’d rather be…
~//~
A four year-old taught the only life that her family knew, this ranch. She would go to the one-roomed school house, and she loved every minute of it, but she loved the ranch more. Without any older brothers (or brothers at all), this ranch was destined to be hers. And, she’d be darned if she was going to make her parents regret having a girl.
Book-learning was all fine and dandy, but it was work, sweat, and tears that were gonna get the ranch to be a success…
~~~
By the time she was ten, she could rope and ride with the best of them, and maybe even a bit better. The skill and knowledge let her race through the rolling green hills for hours after chores. It got her to wake up before even the rooster to complete her tasks and spend the rest of her day riding Trek. Her whole being morphed with the chestnut gelding whose legs moved with such precision someone might have thought he was a machine instead of a steed. They raced their own shadows, felt their first taste of freedom, and maybe that’s when it started. Maybe that was when she was tainted.
She had always assumed that seeing her little world from the back of a horse was the best reason to stay, but she never thought it would give her the urge to leave.
~~~
She was seventeen and schooling at the rickety old building had quit advancing three years ago. Now, she was ready for a full time education as at become rancher’s daughter and later a true-blooded rancher.
So, she swapped reading, writing and arithmetic for a shovel and bales of hay.
And so, the ranch made its way to a permanent place in her heart, and in turn, she gave herself to the ranch.
~~~
Last week, as she scrubbed saddle pads and shook them out across the wooden fence, a wise man came out. His steely blue eyes examined the land behind her shoulder, more on instinct than trying to ignore her.
The teen’s young, piercing, emerald eyes gazed into the old, judicious ones that belonged to the man she had known longer than any boy of a passing fancy. Their gaze ran over the rolling hills, grazing horses, and pine trees swaying in the distance, but never meeting the girl’s.
Years of being raised by the owner of those eyes had taught her that his eyes may scan the land, but his heart and mind were locked on her eyes. She knew they were peering deeper into her emerald depths further than any other person could, even if they used their eyes.
A small smile spread across the wise man’s lips, and the teenager couldn’t tell if he was content at taking in the sight, or glad from something she had done or was about to do.
“This is all gonna be yours someday,” he muttered, and for the first time in a long time his eyes really did meet hers.
A wide smile spread across her face, and she nodded, but something still felt missing. She broke his gaze and turned back to the area that surrounded her. What could she possibly be missing? A small town, nice folks, a living, and one of the most breathtaking places that God had ever made on earth, there was nothing else to hope for.
Except, maybe someone to share it with…
~//~
As her mind drifted back, she hadn’t realized that her eyes had lowered to a close and that the “wise man” was standing behind her.
“Samantha,” he said sharply, pushing on her shoulder with a hand covering a leather work glove.
Startled, she jumped to her feet and stumble off the steps, falling less than gracefully off the porch and onto the ground. Getting to her feet (slowly this time), Samantha brushed off her jeans and stood up straight. Arms crossed across her chest, as she tried to look affronted.
“Dad,” she started, but he cut her off with a leather clad hand.
He wasn’t a large man by anyone’s standards. He was a more than a hair shy of five and a half feet high-on a good day, but his build made up for it. His thick muscled arms were seldom without the familiar burn of exertion and a sheath of shiny sweat. A thick mop of gray hair had grown where blonde once grew. Steel blue eyes that creased at the corners from the years of sun exposure and squinting.
His name was John Smith, but everyone called him Buck. No one even remember if he had gotten the nickname from the number of Buck’s he had killed or because he was about as tough as ten of them put together. Either way, no one had the guts to ask him personally.
He would often chuckle to his wife that they were getting worked up over nothing and you could call him Sue and it wouldn’t make a difference to the way he acted or ran his ranch.
“Work now, day-dreamin’ later,” he said with a thick drawl that you could only get in the foothills of Georgia.
“Yes, sir,” She said, as she tugged her boots on from their place on the porch.
Casting one last glance over her shoulder, Samantha took in the sight of her father, and she couldn’t help thinking that she’d like to find a man like her daddy someday.
~//~
Rubbing the back of his permanently red neck, Buck smiled and watched the fleeting figure of his only daughter. She was a dreamer to say the least, and it baffled him to no end. His mind always seemed so in touch with reality, and never seemed to drift away from it. It never had a reason to, everything was so right and-dare he say it-perfect. But then again, the love of his life, June, was in touch with her surroundings on a level that he was sure was not humanly possible, and she was the biggest dreamer he had ever met.
He glanced around at her as she stepped out the white washed house. A long summer dress swirled around her ankles, as the sweet breeze seemed to embrace her a little tighter than anyone else.
Auburn hair fell back over her shoulders in a sun kissed orange cascade of curls, and the source of his daughter’s green eyes stared back at him. A smattering of freckles ran over the bridge of her nose and cheeks giving her a childish look that really didn’t do justice to her forty-seven years of living life to the fullest.
~//~
They got married in the little, old church in town, happy and grinning like a pair over overwhelmed teenagers (after all that’s all they really were). Her vibrancy and glowing personality contrasted his stoic character wholly and added new levels to the phrase “opposites attract.”
He was never a man of many words, but that was never a problem for June, she could read him as well as she could read the Good Book (and that was saying something coming from the late Preacher Stogan’s daughter.)
Buck had known that they were perfect for each other as soon as he let his guard down. The rough and tough ranch hand that finally made and found his way in the world with a gorgeous wife and daughter couldn’t be steel all the way through after all. No, there was definitely something soft deep within him, and it was softer than the most luxurious down.
~~~
Arms that could bale hay from sun up to sun down and could split logs straight down the middle cradled the most delicate buddle that had ever filled his eyes. It was probably best that he never spoke for the sake of hearing his own; because, right now he was rendered speechless.
~~~
Buck gave her a grin and tugged off his gloves, shoving them in his back pocket and approaching his wife with a gaze that could only be formed after nineteen years of marriage and over thirty just knowing each other.
His calloused hands cupped her cheek, turning from leather to velvet in his first second of contact. He didn’t say anything (nothing needed to be said) as he gently kissed her lips and pulled back.
“Your daughter’s always got her head up in the clouds,” he told her gruffly, a twinkle in his eyes and chuckle laced in his voice.
June gave a short, offended laugh.
“I was under the impression you had a mighty big part in her comin’ into this world,” she told him.
“Yeah, but she got her fantasizin’ brain from you,” he replied.
“Good thing too,” she replied flippantly.
A low grumble escaped from the base of Buck’s throat as he chuckled and scratched behind his neck.
“I s’pose so,” he capitulated softly, as he lowered his eyes a bit to take in the full image of his wife. ‘Had she always been this stunning?’
“Anyways,” June brought his attention back to the present. “I think it’s ‘bout time you head into town and get some feed and whatever else we’re missin’ ‘round here.”
He nodded mutely and strode off.