New beginnings

Chapter 3 "Jules"

"I can't believe we got out of there, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you though," I say behind a cabinet door as I search for food. "Mhm." I hear in the distance. I check the other cabinets and find some dusty cans of food. I rifle through them to see what our options are. Looks like we have beans and ravioli. "Hey what do you have a taste for, beans or ravioli?" I ask. "Definitely ravioli," Aaron responds. I pull out two cans and begin to search for some forks I find some plastic ones under the sink. I set them on the counter and begin to crack open the cans. Thank god for pull tabs I think to myself.

"here," I say as I hand him his can and fork before I sit down. He grabs his food and moves his legs back for me to sit down. Before I can even start eating my food, he's already scarfing his down. "So, what are we going to do next?" I ask in between bites. As he shovels ravioli into his mouth he responds, "Hideout here for a bit I guess, and rest up before we leave." He sets his can down on the floor. "Gives us time to better think about what the hell we're gonna do next." I continue to eat, "Sounds good to me." I say with a mouth full. I tell him to get some rest before I get up to explore the shack.

I get up and walk around before I spot a door. I open a door to a room with a bed and what seems to be some leftover belongings. The first thing to really catch my eye was a satchel hanging from the bed frame. I open the bag and inside is a journal and some papers. I open the journal and there's a name on the inside cover, James P. Carter. I flip the page to find the first entry from over 20 years ago.

June 10, 2125

I finally escaped that hell hole of a place. I found this abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere. It's in pretty good shape though I just hope it's far enough to where he won't find me. I can't go back to that shitty place again, I just can't. What they did to me in there was inhumane. Constantly being strapped down and injected with god knows what. So, far nothing has happened from it, but I do feel kind of weird. But that could just be from the adrenaline and not being stuck in one place all the time. Well, all that's next is to find some hope of society from here and get some food cause I'm starving.

Sincerely,
James P. Carter

Who the hell is James P. Carter? Was he talking about the same place we just came from? How is that possible? The crazy-ass scientist there doesn't even look that old, I think to myself. I flip through the journal for more answers but all he talks about is his day and what he's found. But then some pictures fall out. I pick them up and there's a man with what appears to be part stone skin. He's standing in front of this shack. There's more but he's just doing normal things like nothing's strange about having stone skin at all.

Maybe there is a chance for us to live normal lives outside of that place. Especially since this guy did so many years ago. I rifle through the papers and they seem to be drawings of the place he was talking about. As I look through them, I realize it's definitely the same place we just escaped from. After I finish looking through the journal and papers, I put them back in the satchel for later. I look around the room and spot a closet. I open the doors and there's a few old clothes in there. I look through them and find an old leather jack. I take it off the hanger to get a better look at it. And it's actually kind of cute, so I slip it on. It's a little big but that's okay, gives me room to layer when needed. "What are you doing." I jump and turn to see Aaron standing at the door. "Nothing just exploring a little bit. I say. "Find anything?" He asks. I turn around to grab the satchel of the bed. Yeah, actually I found a journal from this man named James. Turns out he escaped from the same place as us. Really, lemme see." Aaron says while reaching for the satchel. I hand it over to him and he grabs the journal out and starts flipping through it. "James P. Carter... Wonder where he is now." He mumbles as he shuts the journal and shoves it back in the bag. "Who knows," I say.