Author's Note

Ok so the people have spoken. I will share the 8 chapters I have!! Let me start with a bit of context...

When I read stories I am always wondering about back stories. I feel annoyance when characters just seem to magically have powers or skills that don't feel earned. No Mary sues/Gary stus hehe. Even if the character work I do doesn't make it into my final novel, I think that having that structure, in my mind at least, makes the characters more believable when I write them because I  as the author belive them.

In writing After Humanity for example I needed to know how Alice and Magnus met ( that's where the backstory chapters evolved from). I needed to know how Alice had the skills she seemed to have (that's where Alice's book came from!) Well there is one more character/storyline I needed to justify, at least in my own mind... Kathryn & Alice.

Alice's care for Kathryn is ultimately why she didn't speak to save Rachel's life from Magnus's trade (well one of the reasons). So why did Alice care for Kathryn so much? How did she become Alice's presumed heir?

You may or may not remember Kathryn telling Rachel the story of how she was bought at auction. (if you need a refresher, its chapter 20 of After Humanity). Well when I went to write that part of the chapter I had a vague idea of what had happened but... I couldn't seem to write it down. I had to actually write that mini story ( from both Alice and Kathryn's pov) in order to have Kathryn summarize it lol. A bit of extra work on my part but it was worth it. Once I had written that short bit of story? I was able to finish the chapter. That little snippet evolved into more chapters. A book from Alice & Kathryn's pov that covers Kathryn's journey to Magnus's estate, Rachel's time on the farm, and ends with Alice's death & Kathryn taking over her position officially.

Will I finish that book? I don't know. I have about 55k words but not all clean lol. What I do have however is the start of Kathryn and Alice's story. It begins with a very similar line to Voices of Humanity:

"I was born lucky"

Alice starts her book with the same sentiment. Acknowledging her "luck" within... a very rough reality. Kathryn's story is very different to Alice's but nonetheless they share some key similarities. That's what this book is meant to explore. How did these remarkable strong women come to be who they are? How did they survive? What drew them to each other? And with those questions... here is the story of how Alice and Kathryn first met.....

*Please forgive that its a bit messier than other work I might have posted. Its still very much a draft

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Chapter One

Kathryn

I was born lucky, at least as lucky as one born into this age could be given my species. Humans had long since lost any standing in our world and the sibla ruled with an iron fist. No human was permitted to go unaccounted for.

The free human enclave I was born to was peaceful, set at the foothills of majestic mountains that provided cool fresh water from melting snows each spring. We were asked to give up only ten citizens a year, far less than most. In return for our sacrifice, the sibla who maintained our village provided us with electricity, safety, and ample rations. They wanted us healthy and fat after all.

My mother had been blessed with seven surviving children, a true accomplishment given the lack of medical care we had access to and the cold winters that often left us encased in a world of ice.

We were truly happy in our small home. I suppose it was crowded once my youngest sister Lydia was born but she was such an easy baby, and later a helpful child, that I never resented giving up part of my bed to share with her. Quite the opposite. I enjoyed her happy company and became so close with her that many joked I might be her true mother. But with luck like ours, it was bound to run out.

I remember clearly the day the town leader came to our door. Decisions for the cull were made by a group of elected officials once a year. They would pick from among the most bountiful families. Those that might be struggling to feed every mouth given their size. Our family had been added to the lottery before. We'd never been selected. I think some part of me thought we never would be. It made the shock of reality all the more surreal when it finally came.

My mother was remarkably calm when they gave her the news. She was more practical than I. At eighteen, I was still of an age where I believed myself invincible and my family by extension. Mama had the wisdom born of experience. Enough to know that no human in our world was truly safe.

"You will have 48 hours to give us your decision, the man told us. One of your family will go with the sibla to preserve our community. The individual must be prepared to sacrifice for the good of all."

The individual must be prepared to sacrifice for the good of all

It was our village's motto. Ingrained in us from birth. To keep our people alive, we must be prepared to sacrifice everything. To keep our people free, some would have to offer up their lives.

Mama didn't talk about the messenger once he left. She went about her daily chores as if nothing was amiss, clearly expecting we would all do the same. I didn't question it, though I knew the reality wouldn't go away with denial. There was no reason to frighten the younger children who still did not understand. Not before a decision had been made. But as the day grew late, I could not keep the worries from my mind, no matter how much I wanted to emulate Mama's composure. One of us would be sacrificed.

Papa was too old to qualify as a suitable offering. The sibla would not accept older males. Besides, our family relied on his ability to provide us with money and food. My mother was the caretaker of our home. My youngest siblings still needed her. But who then would be lost? I couldn't imagine any of my siblings being tossed to the wolves.

I knew the tradition. The youngest child of the family was most likely to be offered up. Sibla preferred their victims young, and many believed it was best to keep those offspring who had already survived the earlier years of childhood when they were more susceptible to illness...

Lydia.

She was only four years old. The youngest among us by far. But she was my little sister! One of the sweetest, kindest, children to ever grace this earth. How could we possibly sanction her death? How could we allow any of them to die!

When my father came home that night, he and my mother quickly went out to the shed around back, instructing me to feed all my siblings so they might speak in privacy. Of course, I ensured the others were cared for but, as soon as I could, I left my sisters and brothers to their meal and slipped out, creeping to the place my parents had sequestered themselves to decide our family's fate. As soon as I approached the shed, I could hear my mother sobbing quietly from within.

"I won't do it," she said. "I will sacrifice myself. They have to be willing to take me!"

"Kristin, you know they will not," my father replied. I saw him take her in his arms through the crack in the door as her cries of grief rang out again.

In that moment, I felt myself moving forward, acting independent of all rational thought. My hand was on the door, I was interrupting my parents' private moment of suffering. It didn't matter

Both looked to the door in surprise as I closed it behind me.

"Kathryn," my father began, but I didn't let him finish.

"Let me go."

As the words left my lips, I knew it was the only option. My brothers and sisters deserved the chance to live. I was the oldest and only I could spare them. I couldn't bear watching any of them die.

"No," my mother said, finding her voice as the shock of my request registered in her brain. "Absolutely not. I am going and that's final!"

My father didn't respond at all. He simply stared in silence. He knew what I did. If we did not offer one of the children in our family, the town leaders might choose for us.

I shook my head, strengthening my resolve. "Papa's right," I said. "They will not accept you as a tribute. They might even take more from our family as penalty for our selfishness."

I wasn't sure if it was true, but I saw my mother's eyes widen in horror at the prospect. I went to her and took her hand.

"We know what will happen to the children," I said, "but if I am taken, there's a chance I might survive."

As I spoke the words of reassurance, I felt my stomach churn uncomfortably. I indeed might survive sale to the sibla. I was old enough to procreate. But a life of slavery? Producing children to feed the hungry appetite of monsters? I knew I might be better off to be sold for my flesh. Still, Mama herself seemed somewhat calmed by my reassurances.

"You promise you will do everything you can to survive?" she said, clutching my hand with desperation. "Be certain to follow all commands. To be obedient and sweet. Maybe you can still have a life..."

I nodded, though I knew it wouldn't matter. The fate that met all tributes would be horrific. A life of suffering beyond imagine. The only real unknown was how long that suffering might last before a butcher's knife put an end to it.

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My father was the one who went to the town leaders with our decision, a sealed envelope with my name. From then on, I felt as if everyone outside of my home treated me just a bit differently. It was as if I was already dead. As if they were trying to distance themselves from my cursed status.

Though the date the sibla would come to collect their bounty was never fixed, thus preventing any from running at the last minute, I tried my best to prepare myself every morning for the inevitable. Each time I hugged my siblings and parents I imagined it might be our final moment together. After the first week passed, I began to wonder if the waiting was more torturous than the decision itself had been, my nerves frayed as my reality more firmly cemented itself in my mind and true fear set in.

It was a dark cold spring day when the trailers finally arrived. Frost still clung to much of the grass, and the clouds overhead were a dreary gray. The perfect setting for my death march. I was barely given the time to hug my mother and the two sisters who were home when the sibla came calling with their cold blue eyes and compassionless stares.

"But my husband!" My mother begged as they bound my hands. "At least let me get my husband so he might say goodbye. And my other children" Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"It's alright, Mama," I tried to console her as I fought to tamp down my own terror. "I'm ready. We knew this was coming."

"Don't go Kathryn!" my youngest sister cried out, trying to run towards me. My mother had the sense to hold Lydia back as one of the sibla cast the young girl a hungry look.

"Tell the others I love them," I said, allowing myself to be led out the door without struggle. "Tell them to be brave."

I had no more time to speak before I was shoved into the cold.

The sibla men hadn't given me time to grab a coat and I was already shivering as the light sleet dripped down from the sky, coating my hair and clothes with its icy wet, my heavy breath hovering around my face in white puffs. Of course my captors were well protected from the weather in warm waterproof coats that repelled the onslaught from above, cementing my new status as one of an animal. A slave.

The men led me mercilessly towards the trailers parked in the center of town as if taking a condemned man to his execution. I knew that was exactly what they were doing. As I was forced into line with the other men, women, and children being offered in payment for the sibla's continued protection it was clear we were all condemned.

One by one, each of us was forced to step forward and give our names. A tall sibla man took note of our ages and confirmed that all were accounted for before sorting and loading us all into the cramped cabins of the vehicles designed for animal transport. I was about to step into my prison when a cry broke out from the watching crowd.

"Kathryn!"

I turned back to see my mother and father standing there, all of my siblings around them. I wanted to run back and embrace them one more time, but I had only taken two steps in their direction before I felt a sharp sting against my shoulder.

"Move on, girl," a hard voice commanded. I saw the sibla who had stuck me with his wooden baton. He raised it again in threat and I cowered back.

"Now!"

With a final backward glance at my family, I tried to give them hope. I mouthed "I love you," praying my eyes conveyed all the love I felt for them. I wanted them to know that I was at peace. That I was glad to sacrifice myself for their sake. As I was pushed into a dark cell alongside other terrified girls from our town, I could do nothing but pray my attempt at a final message was successful. That this act would spare them further suffering. I would never see them again.

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And so Kathryn's journey begins. Of the eight chapters I have 5 belong to Kathryn. 3 to Alice (just so you know). Interestingly enough? Kathryn originally spoke to me in third person. I even had the idea at one point to write Alice in first person for this book ( she has only ever spoken to me in first person) and Kathryn in third person. But in the end? I think her voice is distinctive enough to hold in first as different to Alice. We shall see if you agree! I will post the next chapter on Monday.