SUNDAY SERIAL

A story written by the readers of the Evening News and The Tribune

INTRODUCTION (Originally published Feb. 17, 2008)

If she had to rip the house apart with her fingernails and eye teeth, she was going to find it. Dresser drawers clattered to the floor, cabinet doors were flung open. She pawed through soup cans as the tears started. No luck.

God only knows where he’d been putting things since he came back, she thought. And where was he today? There certainly was no time to wait around for him. Five minutes, maybe.

Dogs were barking. She froze. They were definitely together, on the move. Probably looking for something, and if they were, it was definitely her. She didn’t have five minutes.

She retied her mother’s old boots, fast and tight. She grabbed an armful of meat and tossed it out the hole where her back door used to be. Would it distract them? Worth a shot; they sounded a block away, at most.

She limped down the three stairs, biting her lip. Without a last look at the only home she’d ever known, Simone ran.

— Written by staff writer Eric Scott Campbell

CHAPTER ONE (Originally published March 2, 2008)

The empty streets were nerve-wracking. The absence of the people who would normally be there, combined with the distinct feeling of being watched made the bile well up in Simone’s stomach. Still, she ran.

Running was difficult, but the pain in her leg and the fear in her heart acted as a counter-balance to the weight of the gun in her hand. She hated guns, even though they had been a constant presence in her life. Now there was no one here to rely on, and she had to take matters into her own hands, literally.

As she headed down an alley, Simone decided that she was better to be in the open, better to see them coming than to be ambushed in close quarters. The levee would be a good spot, and it wasn’t far away.

The strength of the Ohio would watch her back, and from there she could make her way along the floodwall to safety. But where could she really be safe? She knew the buildings downtown would be perfect, but the thought kept nagging her ... You always thought you were safe before.

The smell of the river, earthy and pungent, was comforting. She’d spent her childhood along the river, looking for fossils and searching for treasure in the piles of debris left by falling flood waters. She wondered if kids were still allowed to play along the river, but, of course, all of that was different now.

Simone snapped back to reality, knowing there was no time for childhood memories. Although the gun would help, she knew she wasn’t going to make it alone. The pain in her leg blurred her thoughts and turned her stomach as she ran down the empty streets, but she was spurred on by the sound of the dogs barking again. For a moment, she wondered if Eli was there looking for her. No ... by now he would have realized that she had taken off for the streets. Suddenly, it hit her. She knew where he would be. He would go to where they had met and spent so many hours talking about everything imaginable.

As she took a right onto Bank Street, she noted that the town looked sad and empty, but ominous at the same time. Their Southern Indiana town wasn’t quite ready for an evacuation — doors had been left open as people had fled, possessions dropped as those rushing on the streets searched for their loved ones. Simone adjusted her grip on the gun once more, fearing for her life now more than ever. She’s seen enough movies to know that when you’re this close to safety you’re also in the most danger. Never before had the trip to the New Albany Inn seemed so painful and grueling, though she could not recall a time when she had wanted to get there faster.

Her breath created puffs of clouds against the chill as Simone eased through the doorway, past the broken glass. So many memories ...

— Written by Tony and Hannah Smithson

>> ABOUT THE AUTHORS OF CHAPTER ONE:

Tony and Hannah Smithson (collaboration)

CITY OF RESIDENCE: Floyds Knobs

EDUCATION AND CAREER INFORMATION: Tony has a bachelor’s degree in English from Indiana State University, and has recently accepted the position of vice president of production for Bliss Communications, Inc. in Janesville, WI. He has spent most of his career in newspaper operations. Hannah is a freshman at Floyd Central High School, and does not yet have a job.

HOBBIES: Tony enjoys spending time with his wife, Melaney, and their three children (Eli and Amelia, in addition to Hannah). He is also an avid home brewer. Hannah spends her time reading, writing, playing piano, and taking time with her friends. Both Tony and Hannah are active in church and community activities, and they occasionally enjoy embarrassing themselves on the golf course.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN PUBLISHED? If so, what and where? Tony has had articles published in trade journals, but has not written professionally. Hannah has not, to her knowledge, ever been published.

WHY DID YOU WRITE CHAPTER ONE? This was a father-daughter project, and it let us share our imagination. We had fun with the various crazy twists and turns that were possible (inbred hillbillies? No. . .), and we worked together to craft a story that would answer some questions, but not too many. Regardless of the resulting 500 words, the process brought us together and allowed us to connect and learn about ourselves and each other in a fun way.

CHAPTER TWO (Originally published March 16, 2008)

Still she had the feeling of being watched, even followed, or were her nerves playing tricks on her. As she crossed the threshold, glass crunched beneath her feet, she prayed Eli was inside but she knew she couldn’t call out to him; she would have to search the Inn room by room.

As she made her way through the first floor her anxiety grew, if something jumped out at her could she, would she shoot? What if it was Eli? As she climbed the stairs her knuckles turned white and numb from gripping the heavy gun so tight, it felt like it might crumble in her hand. As she climbed the stairs to the third floor the fear and despair that overtook her was almost more than she could bear, she started to cry silently as she entered the room she and Eli shared and found he wasn’t there.

As Simone sat on the edge of the bed and hung her head, all she could see was her mothers‚ old boots, staring, mocking her, saying “dry it up sister and do what needs to be done.” Anger tore at her that the only memory she could muster up at the moment was of the woman that raised her to be tough, sure she had great memories of the river and the fossil beds, but her mother also used it as a training ground, she learned to fish, swim, shoot guns, cook and campout, her mother would say “like the pioneers,” but Simone didn’t want to be a pioneer, she wanted to do things like other little girls.

Then it hit her, as if her mother saying, “Come on Simone, you know what to do.” Simone remembered one other thing her mother had taught her and she knew she had to make it back to Water Street along the river.

Simone dried her eyes and said, “OK Mother, if that’s the way you want it!” She walked over to the window and slowly slid the curtain apart to check the street below. Seeing her way clearly to the river, her instincts tell her that things are not always what they appear to be.

As she starts down the stairs she hears the glass crunch, she hears the dogs sniffing her scent, growling deep within their throats, she must find another way out.

She silently steps back into the room, closing the door behind her, but it won’t latch, she’s trapped but remembers there is a secret stairway to the kitchen if she can make it to the second floor. Gripping the gun tight, she makes her way to the stairs, she slowly starts down, hoping none creak, all is good until the last step when she hears the creak and the dogs charge up the stairs. Simone runs to the hidden panel closing it behind her as the dogs crash against it.

They say that for every door that closes a better one opens, hesitating she isn’t so sure this is true.

She slowly opens the door ...

— Written by Beverly Knight

>> ABOUT THE AUTHOR OF CHAPTER TWO

Beverly Knight

CITY OF RESIDENCE: Jeffersonville

EDUCATION AND CAREER INFORMATION: 23-year ex-factory worker. Beginning college in May to enter the medical field.

HOBBIES: I enjoy arts and crafts, reading, family, and am a grandmother of five, with one on the way.

WHY DID I WRITE CHAPTER 2: I use to love to write long letters to people and feel it is a lost art. It was somewhat difficult to limit myself to 500 words, even though I did find it a challenge, I felt it brought out the creativity in me.

CHAPTER THREE (Originally published March 30, 2008)

Simone’s desperate hope of escaping before being caught, by either the dogs or their owners, crumbled when she made it to the front door of the inn and came face to face with a group of soldiers in camouflage, carrying rifles that were aimed at her. She stumbled backward at the sight of them and thought of turning back inside, but she knew there was no escaping their weapons. She dropped her own gun and slowly raised her hands. One of the soldiers approached, keeping his gun trained on her, and demanded, “Who are you?”

Simone hesitated while staring at the gun, and then replied weakly, “My name is Simone.”

The man sized her up for a moment, noticed her apparent state of exhaustion, and lowered his weapon. Stepping back, he asked, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you leave in the evacuation?”

Simone began to feel the tension in her mind and body slowly dissipate in the presence of these men as she realized that she need not be afraid of them. She lowered her hands and began to explain.

“Before the evacuation, my husband was part of the military unit that was stationed here to protect us from the … the invaders. I was told they killed him when they came and started destroying the city, but I don’t believe it. He told me that if anything happened he would find me. He wouldn’t leave if there was an evacuation. He would stay here and we would find each other. So, when they began evacuating I stayed behind because I know that he’s not dead. I don’t know how I know — I just do.”

“What is your husband’s name?” The man asked.

“Eli. Eli Mueller,” Simone replied.

The soldier shook his head slowly, knowingly. “I don’t know your husband, Ma’am, but I know that you can’t stay here any longer. The invaders left once, but they’ll be back. They’ve already made their way as far west as Cincinnati and they’re expected to be in Louisville and Indianapolis at any time. If your husband is still here, we can only hope that he will leave soon. We are the last unit left in the area and we are leaving right now. You’ll have to come with us.”

Simone shook her head and began backing away. “No. I don’t care what you say, I’m not leaving without him.”

Before the soldier could react, a loud whirring sound erupted in the sky. They all turned to see a group of small, black objects moving on the horizon, floating discs suspended in midair. Simone and the soldiers stood watching them for a moment, and as they watched the objects slowly became larger, their sounds louder.

No one said anything, their eyes transfixed on the flying forms. After a moment they finally came to their senses and the soldiers instinctively prepared their weapons.

“We don’t have time to discuss this,” the soldier told Simone. “If you want to come, come. But we’re leaving. Now.”

— Written by Emily Reed

>> ABOUT THE AUTHOR OF CHAPTER THREE

Emily Reed

HOMETOWN: Clarksville

EDUCATION English Major at Indiana University Southeast

HOBBIES: Reading, writing, music, enjoying time spent outdoors and with family and friends

WHY DID YOU WRITE CHAPTER THREE: I wrote chapter three because I enjoy creative writing and it and it gave me an opportunity to come up

with something new and fun. I liked answering some of the questions that have been brought up in the two previous chapters as well as bringing new characters into the story. Anything a person does is a learning experience, and writing this excerpt showed me how much fun it can be to add to someone else’s ideas.

CHAPTER FOUR (Originally published April 13, 2008)

As the soldiers trained their expert eyes on the approaching discs, Simone wrestled with the idea of taking off on her own. But the truth was, she felt a refreshing sense of security in the company of the militia. And glancing down at the cold, steely, black gun in hers hands, she realized with an ominous shudder that she carried the means to join them.

With a deep breath, Simone hoisted the gun up, nestling it into a comfortable position in the soft crevice of her shoulder. When the soldier shot her a questioning look, she returned a grave smile, thinking, “Simone Mueller, you only have one shot. This is what Eli would want you to do.”

Even after having been briefed by the head soldier on what their work entitled and what was expected of her should she choose to join, Simone was steadfast in her decision to stay.

Just as she was about to cock her gun, a lone shot pierced through the silence of the desolate street. And as the last unit of soldiers opened fire on the advancing invaders, Simone wheeled around, searching for the source of the firing. She caught sight of someone or some thing, she couldn’t be sure, just as it was scuttling behind a nearby building. Being careful not to put too much pressure on her bad leg, Simone took off — knowing that if her one shot didn’t hit its target — she was as good as dead ...

— Written by Jessica Foster

>> ABOUT THE AUTHOR OF CHAPTER FOUR

NAME: Jessica Foster

CITY OF RESIDENCE: Georgetown, Indiana

EDUCATION and/or CAREER INFORMATION: Sophomore at Floyd Central High School

HOBBIES: I enjoy playing soccer and volleyball, as well as spending all the time I can get with my close friends.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN PUBLISHED? IF SO, WHAT AND WHERE: I had an article of mine published in The Courier-Journal. I wrote it for “The Best” section, about the many wonders of a Tide-2-Go pen.

WHY DID YOU WRITE CHAPTER FOUR? Rummaging through the paper one day, this series randomly caught my eye, and I immediately jumped at the chance to come up with something to add to the story. Having the opportunity to get my work published and out there for everyone to read and enjoy would be an incredible feat.

________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER FIVE (Originally published April 27, 2008)

“Well, I suppose you’re going to say this is my fault,” Eli said, his drawl a little thicker than his Indiana roots would have suggested.

Instinctively, Simone spun around and pointed the gun in the direction of the voice. Part of her couldn’t believe it was him, and the other part was so motivated by fear that her muscles were working on pure adrenaline. “Of course it’s your fault you son of ...” but she couldn’t finish her sentence, as the tears came uncontrollably.

And of course, it was Eli’s fault, but that wasn’t important now. What was important was that they take this opportunity and make it count.

“What were you doing hiding behind the building?” Simone asked, still shaking.

“Sweetheart, those friends of yours aren’t who you think they are,” Eli said, motioning in the direction of the soldiers.

Eli went on to explain that the “spacecrafts” that she had seen earlier were actually unmanned reconnaissance aircraft sent by the government to rescue her. Also, the soldiers that she came so close to joining were actually part of a group of terrorists who had duped the public into thinking that they were military units fighting off “aliens.” Once they had taken control of the media outlets, the rest was easy. Apparently people do believe anything they read. Simone was shocked speechless, but Eli filled the silence with a plan.

“And I need to plant this baby,” Eli pulled out a small microwave tracking beacon, “smack dab in the middle of their headquarters, so our boys can take care of them once and for all. They knew no one else would be able to infiltrate the terrorist-controlled areas, so they sent me.”

“But how are you going to be able to get in their headquarters?” Simone asked, having finally regained control over her motor skills.

Eli smiled, “I’m not, sweetheart. You are.”

This was all still buzzing in Simone’s mind as she followed the men in their grey-green uniforms along East Main and into the new YMCA building. Of course, she thought, it was the ideal location, with its view of the river and commanding presence in the area.

The plan she had hatched with Eli seemed so simple, but at the same time it was brilliant. It had to work.

“Can you tell me where the vending machines are?” Simone asked, “I’d kill for a candy bar.” Although the soldier from the hallway escorted her to the vending area and watched as she fed her money into the machine, he soon got tired of waiting for her to decide, and drifted off down the hallway.

Reaching in to get her candy bar, Simone slipped the transmitter in to the tray and clicked the power on. “Zero bar, my favorite,” she said as she turned toward the exit.

As far off artillery locked on to the location, Simone thought about how appropriate it was. In a few minutes, zero would be all that was left of this place.

— Written by Tony and Hannah Smithson

>> ABOUT THE AUTHORS OF CHAPTER FIVE

NAME: Tony and Hannah Smithson (collaboration)

CITY OF RESIDENCE: Floyds Knobs

EDUCATION/CAREER INFORMATION: Tony is Vice President of Print Operations for Bliss Communications, Inc. in Janesville, WI. He has a bachelor’s degree in English from Indiana State University, and has been pursuing his MBA at IUS. Hannah is finishing her freshman year at Floyd Central High School, and still does not yet have a job.

HOBBIES: Tony enjoys spending time with his wife Melaney, and his three children (Eli and Amelia, in addition to Hannah). Tony also enjoys outdoor activities and home brewing. Hannah enjoys reading, writing, playing piano, sewing, and thinking up new ways to change her hair.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN PUBLISHED: Chapter One of the Sunday Serial was a real thrill. Also, Tony has published some articles in newspaper trade magazines.

WHY DID YOU WRITE CHAPTER FIVE? Having started with Chapter One, we enjoyed watching the directions that everyone took the story. Chapter five was one last chance to take over, and it was a real challenge to wrap everything up in 500 words.