Extant: The Coelacanth Project Book 1 by Sarah Newland

Author:Sarah Newland [Newland, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hiking Hedgehog Press, LLC
Published: 2019-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18: Nautilus Chambers

The screech of metal on stone broke the silence in Natalie’s cell. She rose from her cot and sat on the floor beside the panel presenting her meal.

“Hello Chef,” Natalie spoke to the wall. “What have you brought for me this eternal twilit eve?”

The panel swiveled around with a cup of water and a sandwich.

“Ah, delicious.”

As always, the Chef remained silent. Natalie lifted the cup to her lips and drank. She spat the water out onto the dirt floor.

Ugh! It’s salt water!

The panel began to revolve again and Natalie hastily scooped up her meal before it perished beyond the wall. To her surprise, the incoming portion of panel was not empty. A neatly folded pile of cloth occupied the small shelf that typically held her food. Natalie shoved the sandwich into her mouth and unfolded a navy form-fitting tracksuit with a silver embroidered nautilus shell on each arm. She nearly choked.

“You have got to be joking, Chef,” Natalie muttered around the bread.

Natalie picked up the rest of her new uniform and a thick piece of paper slipped out from between the folds of clothing. It was a photograph.

Her fingers traced the familiar figures gathered around the long wooden table beneath the lantern-lit pavilion. Uncle Christopher sat at the head of the table, his beard still black and his belly less round. Natalie sat between her parents with her head resting on her wrist, undoubtedly engrossed in a book hidden in her lap. Her mother and father sat on either side of her. Her mother, frozen in time, twisted a curl of Natalie’s ponytail between her fingers. Her father laughed at something as he held her mother’s hand in front of Natalie’s plate. His hair had not yet started to grey.

Leo and Tawney hung over the sides of their chairs, desperate to get a clear shot to fling food at Owen. Mr. and Mrs. Merrick passed Leo loaded forks of food for shooting, while Mrs. Davis fought to take Tawney’s away from her. Owen lifted two empty dinner plates in defense, hiding behind his parents as they engaged in conversation with Tawney’s father.

Brant sat next to his mother. Like Natalie, he was oblivious to the chaos going on around the table. His mother smiled warmly at him, her wig slightly askew, as Brant filled her plate. She knitted profusely, working away at a ball of rich red yarn, while Mr. Smith chatted happily with Natalie’s father.

It was one of the few Formal Fridays that distinctly stood out in Natalie’s mind.

This was the last time we were all together.

“Chef,” Natalie called. She wasn’t asking; she was sure now.

I know you’re there.

“Where did you get this?” She assessed the photograph again and thought of a more pressing question. “Chef, who took this?”

We’re all in this picture...so who was watching us?

“Chef!”

“Shh!”

Natalie stared at the wall, hardly daring to breathe. The seconds passed into minutes, but no further sound came from beyond the panel.

Did I imagine it?

The screech of the panel turning sounded again and Natalie jumped.

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