Writer’s Voice #180 – ANOMALY
Better late than never, eh?
HUGE thanks to Brenda Drake, Cupid of Cupid’s Literary Connection, Monica B.W. of Love YA, and Krista Van Dolzer of Mother. Write. (Repeat.) for all their hard work and dedication to this contest! I can only imagine how much time and effort it takes to run a contest of this scale ;o)
Also, GOOD LUCK to all the peeps who made it!! I will be reading as many as I can!
Here we go…
Sloan’s not a killer. So when she’s next to get her brain scanned for the government initiative, Project Reform, she never expects to end up in the Desolate, an island full of teens marked as future killers.
On the island, she makes a reluctant friend in her roommate, who has a general dislike for every human except Lane—the one guy Sloan hates most. After an attempt to escape with her new friends, Sloan accidentally shoots and kills the warden in self-defense, making her question her own morality. When her roommate gets brainwashed and becomes a killer herself, Sloan hatches a plan to rescue her new friend from the notorious Dark Hill, a prison on the island for the worst of the worst.
As if that weren’t enough to keep her toes curling in her red sneakers, Sloan goes on the run against her will with the arrogant Lane and their relationship heats up. They stumble onto a plot against the government and discover a drug that’s turning the teens on the island into actual killers.
Sloan has a decision to make–save herself or save humanity.
ANOMALY is a 68,000-word young adult futuristic thriller that explores the critical moments on one island in the year 2059.
I wasn’t a killer, so I had no reason to be nervous about the brain scan, but something tugged at me, something raw and unknown about today.
My fingers shook as I reached for my locker. I flexed my hand, willing the shakes to stop.
Relax, Sloan. But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Someone yelled in the congested corridor, cutting off the words rotating in my head. I slammed my fist against the door. Why couldn’t it just close on the first try?
Voices squawked and shrilled in the hallway, like flocks of birds just let out of their cages.
I glared at the door. “Locker close.” It gaped open, like a mouth during a scream.
It always did this when I was late for class. You’d think I’d remember the correct voice command after three years. I glanced down at my clear wrist-phone.
Numbers hovered above my wrist in electric blue, while an ad for Coke Pure projected into the air beside it, then disappeared.
“Locker shut,” I growled.
The door closed as if it was purposely trying to make me late.
Hurried footsteps clomped behind me. I turned as my friend and resident gossipmonger, Jasmine hurried up to me. “Sloan!” Her face lit-up at the possibility of spreading more rumors.
I rested my head on my locker. “Did you finally reach your gossip quota?”
“Smart ass.” She leaned against the plastic doors and wrapped a lock of her pink hair around her finger. “Zege didn’t pass his brain scan.”